#Straight answer would be probably nature documentaries

[altocat]

What's Sephiroth's fave tv show

What he'll tell you: Some stuffy old history program

What it actually is: Bluey

[happyimagines]

Chicago PD: Jay/Reader

I was always told to never drive angry. I was told to take a deep breath, and then drive. And maybe if I did, I wouldn’t have had to skid and swerve and hit the curb with enough force to know that my car would need to go to a shop. The moon had taken its place in the night sky, and thankfully I had stopped on a street that was lit with enough lamps to feel slightly comfortable waiting for a tow. Slightly.

Taking a needed breath to calm myself, I went through my contacts. It was a night off, one that didn’t come around too often. And one that needed to be taken advantage of. That also meant that there was a chance that Kim wouldn’t answer her phone. After a few rings, it went to voicemail. Knowing that Adam and Kevin’s would do the same, I still attempted to call only to end up with the voicemail messages.

Finally, I called Jay.

The phone was answered after one ring.

“Aren’t you meant to be on a date?” He asked chuckling. Behind his voice, there were people singing karaoke.

“Supposed to be.” I sighed. “Look, I know it’s our night off, but I need help.”

“Are you okay?” There was an edge to his voice that told me the humour he answered with was gone.

“I’m fine. I hit a curb, and something’s wrong with my car. I called a tow and I don’t want to wait alone.” I took another deep breath.

“Okay,” Jay said after a beat. “Send me your location, I need to pay my tab. Do you want me to stay on the line?”

“Sending it now, and no, I’ll see you when you get here.”

Thankfully I hadn’t stopped too far from Jay’s location, probably Molly’s, as his car pulled in behind mine ten minutes after we hung up. I opened the car door and stepped out.

“What happened?” Jay asked as he met me at my car.

“To the car or the date?”

“Both!” Jay knelt down and began looking at my car to see what kind of damage I had done. As he did, I noticed him looking up from the car at my outfit from the date.

“Well, I think I damaged the axel. Something ran out, I think it was a cat or something and I swerved and hit the curb.” I kicked the tire lightly as I explained. “As for the date, we sat down, and then he got a phone call. Turns out that another girl he was interested in was free and he left.”

“Wait, he stood you up after you guys got to the restaurant?”

“Exactly! Thankfully we didn’t order anything, because I’m sure I would’ve had to pay his bill too.” I pinched my nose. “I basically got angry and left after him and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Makes sense. The guy’s an idiot by the way.” Jay offered with a smile. I smiled back and shivered as a gust of wind blew towards us. “Do you want to sit in the truck?”

“Yeah,” I nodded and followed after Jay towards his truck. He opened the passenger side door and gestured for me to get in. Once he got in, he started the car and the heating came on warming us.

“Thank you.” I said after sitting in silence for a few minutes. “I appreciate this.”

“Of course. I saw you calling Kim and Kevin and figured I’d be next.” Jay shrugged his shoulders and I looked at him. “They were singing at Molly’s when you tried to call.”

“Oh.” I nodded. “I thought that was a dying whale and you were watching a nature documentary.” I joked causing Jay to laugh. “But seriously, thanks.”

“You’d do the same if it were me.”

Before I could reply, the tow truck arrived. I began opening the door and as I did, Jay raised a hand to stop me as he got out and made his way to the tow truck driver. I watched as he spoke with the driver as the car was hooked up and he took the information as to where the car was going to be taken.

“I know a guy, and he’ll probably be able to get the car running back to normal by tomorrow night.” Jay told me getting back in. He handed me a business card of the garage he sent the car to. “I’ll take you there tomorrow.”

“Oh, thanks.” I took the card and put it into my bag. “I can just call a cab and I’ll let you get back to Molly’s.”

“Are you kidding?” Jay looked at the clock. “It’s like seven, if you want, we can get something to eat. You said it yourself that you didn’t eat. Besides, you’re already dressed for a date.”

“Is this your way of saying you want to take me on a date?” I teased. Jay rolled his eyes.

“How about we just get something to eat?” Jay asked before starting the car.

[existentialterror]

do u think dr light would enjoy skyrim?

You know, uh, my initial thought is that she doesn't play video games. But I think this is part of a deeper problem with my authorial process. Like, you know in a computer game like the Sims, when your sim sits down to play its own computer game, and you squint at the computer game and there's some dumb nonsense going on there - like that's where my simulating power runs out. Unless their media consumption is a big part of their character (e.g. if I have a musician character, they of course listen to music and have opinions), all my characters feel like they ought to listen to Iron & Wine and watch nature documentaries and not have any strong opinions about fiction. Like, huh! That doesn't sound right, statistically speaking! Which is to say, I guess I'll stretch myself and revisit my answer. She doesn't regularly play video games, and whatever she does play usually aren't, like, RPG or shooter type games. She might enjoy Skyrim. I think she has picky and arbitrary taste in fiction. (There are like exactly three television shows that she's watched every single episode of and practically no other TV.) That said, every now and then, a colleague will try and convince her to get into something, and mostly she'll suck at it and won't be interested, but roughly every 2-3 years she will get really into something, lose like 2 straight weeks of productivity, and then uninstall it and refuse to touch that game ever again. I don't know what all of these games were - probably some of them weren't ones you'd expect - maybe Skyrim was among them! She has definitely told Vaux with a straight face that if Factorio, Farming Simulator, any Bejeweled clone, or Starcraft ever appear on her computer again, he will need to shoot the computer, with a gun, for the good of the planet.

[wannaberp]

— WHO IS HAN JUEUN?

she’s an EIGHTEEN year old wannabe, born DECEMBER 20, 2004. she’s currently undecided regarding companies and lives by the words “rise and shine, princess. it's time to sparkle.”

maybe you should learn more or ask her a question.

▶ PLAY THE CLIP [ dream_reality.mp4 ]

the questions are a little tacky, admittedly. it's exactly what she would expect from a television crew, but this is a mountain she'll eventually have to cross anyway, so why not just cross it now?

they seat her in a high chair and direct her to look straight into the camera. she takes one last look in the hand mirror she brought herself, straightens out her hair and then clears her throat. it's the same routine she's been going through since she was young that it comes out habitually. she doesn't even have to think about it.

what's your dream?

how cliché. jueun can't believe that they still ask these questions. she's pretty sure she read some news article about schools banning the question because it's setting up kids for pressure so early on in their lives. of course, it doesn't matter to her because her dream had been laid out for her ever since she was a child.

"to be a star, of course. i've always wanted to be on televion," she states before giving the camera a beaming smile. her signature smile, the one her mother spent hours training her on. while it may not look the most natural anymore, it's certainly won her many pageants in the past. "because if i'm not on television, then who will be, right?" jueun lets out a chuckle as a way to lighten up the atmosphere and convince people that she's joking.

it kind of works because the producer behind the camera is laughing, but jueun thinks it could be because they've got good footage for the documentary. she knows how show business works.

how will becoming an idol help you accomplish it?

now here's the tricky part because she never imagined becoming an idol. sure, she thinks the bright lights and cute outfits would be cool to perform in, and she could probably bring in a good number of fans. however, the life seemed like more work than she'd like. nevertheless, she still agreed to this interview for a reason, so she squeezes out an answer.

"i like the idea of people looking up to me and admiring me. making that connection with people whom i may never see the faces of is something really fascinating. there's no other job in the world that would allow me to do that."

it's a bit rehearsed, and she doesn't mean all of it, but she does love the idea of having people admire her. that part is true, anyway.

[matzsmith]

I feel this. Anyone who can't understand why we'd abandon ship on a conversation for a golden retriever giving me that look is clearly missing out on one of life's greatest joys. We don't have the same priorities in life. Like, how could you not want to drop everything for a little furball? It's just common sense at this point, really. Makes me feel better knowing I'm not alone in this. Though it's not like I care what people say, especially when it comes to doggos. Exactly, it's just basic respect, isn't it? Some people seem to forget that dogs have their own boundaries, just like people do. I'm always amazed when someone comes straight up and just starts petting without even checking in. It's such a small thing to ask. Some dogs love the attention, but others, not so much. Mine's a bit hit or miss, depending on his mood. So yeah, a bit of awareness and politeness goes a long way. That's all I can think of, being reunited with him soon. They really are! The most loyal beings and we're really lucky to have them. Have you? A movie about dogs, that's right up my alley. I'll have to tune in. I hope you get your puppy interview soon, I think it's something everyone should get, really. It's really hard to focus on responding the questions but it's worth it, and we answer more cheerfully with pups sleeping on us or constantly jumping on us. Same here! If I had the time, space, and sanity to handle it, I'd probably have a dozen dogs running around by now. It's so hard to resist when you see all those faces looking up at you, but yeah, having someone to talk some sense into you when you're getting carried away is a lifesaver. Otherwise, I'd be knee-deep in dog toys and chewed-up shoes. Gotta remind myself that it's better to give one dog the best life possible than stretch myself too thin with a pack of them, no matter how tempting that is. Well, maybe one day you can still find a way to blend the two, acting and helping animals. Maybe being a part of a documentary or a campaign that raises awareness for animal welfare. You'd be doing what you love while supporting a cause that's close to your heart. Sounds like Maverick and Bobby would cent percent get along. Bobby's convinced he's some kind of stealthy hunter, but he's never even come close to catching one. He'll go tearing after pigeons or squirrels like he's on a mission, then stops halfway, completely baffled when they disappear up a tree or fly away. He suddenly realises he's not equipped for that next step. That's so good, innit? Someone that lets you dream big but also knows when to reel you back in just enough so you don't get completely carried away. Sounds like he knows you well enough to let you have your fun without letting it all spiral out of control. I think everyone needs someone like that in their life, especially if they're the type to dive headfirst into wild ideas. I'm naturally someone who gets excited about new ideas and just runs with them, no matter how impractical they might be. I've definitely had a few moments where I'm about to commit to something crazy, and then someone close to me asks if I gave it a second though and that's when I realise, maybe I'm getting a bit ahead of myself. Bless them. Right! I've seen what TikTok can do to people. I appreciate being a spectator in that world. I keep a safe distance and just enjoying the best bits. I get enough laughs from my mates' sends, and that way I can stay in my comfy little bubble without getting sucked into the endless scroll. Honestly, it's a skill to know when to dip your toes in and when to just enjoy the view.

I’ve never related to anything more in my life. You could be telling me the worst of best of news and I’m sorry, but if there is a dog walking by, my attention span will swerve from you to that ball of fur immediately. Thankfully most of the people around me know what I’m like so they wouldn’t take offense. And I mean anyone who doesn’t understand that the only place the attention can go if there is a dog around, is to the dog, is not someone that I’ll get along very well with anyways. Yeah no I’m a dog owner myself, so I completely get it. I feel the same. It’s sort of like the common sense that you don’t go up to a pregnant lady and touch her bump without consent. Some dogs are not keen on getting the pets and we have to be aware and careful for that. It’s respectful to be polite and ask after all. Sorry sorry, I will stop immediately. You will be reunited in no time, I don’t doubt it. They are the only ones to be around on the worst of days aren’t they? You can never truly despise everything in your surroundings when you have a dog. So am I! I’ve even made a movie strictly about dogs like? Make it make sense. I’m very vocal about loving does so it makes no sense. I’m talking to my manager about it, she needs to make it happen. Getting a second one was honestly the best thing ever, so if you want someone to talk you out of it? I’m not the one. Seeing my first dog interact with my second one too? Enough to make any heart melt I swear, having a house like a doggy daycare would be a dream. But the time? Sadly not existent. I’m lucky to have someone talk some sense in to me when I’m being completely irrational. Right? I’d like to think so too. If it wasn’t for this acting thing working out, and don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful it did - then I would absolutely work within something that helps animals. You’re probably not way off there then.. Has he ever caught one? I mean my Maverick loves to chase the squirrels in the forest. She even starts climbing the trees I swear. Thankfully not far enough and at some point she realizes that standing there and looking up at them is not going to help. Yeah ten years on, he’s learned the ropes around me and my wild ideas. I’m glad at the same time that he keeps me sane, a lot of the times.. god knows the things I would’ve done and would do if he wasn’t there to keep my mind at bay and somewhat stay realistic. Hey at least you get to enjoy is, at a safe distance. I think you do well in that. You can still get a good laugh but not get stuck in it so you’re completely lost in it and all of the sudden it’s 3AM. Cause trust me when I say.. that’s what Tiktok can do to you.

[five-rivers]

While You Still Can

For Ectober Day 2: Scream

.

Warnings: Accidental self-injury, repeated injury, minor blood, muteness.

.

The first time Danny got laryngitis was the day after returning from the bad future. He’d been a bit of a baby about it, too, because not being able to communicate effectively while already feeling like garbage and being depressed wasn’t great. Jazz had been very understanding about it all.

He got it again the next time he used the Ghostly Wail, and resigned himself to the inconvenient side effect. The Wail was sort of a last resort power to begin with, since it drained so much of his energy and left him vulnerable. He hoped that with time and practice it would get better.

He hoped in vain.

The day after Tucker's resignation from the student body presidential race, Danny, Sam, and Tucker splayed, exhausted and still slightly sandy, in Sam's basement. They'd settled on watching a nature documentary at some point, although none of them were really paying attention to it.

Tucker sighed heavily and readjusted himself so that his legs hung over the arm of the loveseat he’d commandeered. “So, I’m tied with Danny for most frequently possessed,” said Tucker.

“Seems like it,” said Sam, lazily twitching her foot to kick Tucker’s. “Unless mind control doesn’t count as being possessed.”

“Ugh. I hate this. Do you think we should try to practice throwing off overshadowing again? I hate that, too.”

“Dunno. Danny, do you think that would do any good?”

Danny, because he had the attention span of a caffeinated squirrel, tried to answer verbally. This was painful and did not work well.

The sound from the documentary briefly dissolved into something that wasn’t quite static. All three teens sat up, straight and wary of any ghostly intruders.

Danny’s ghost sense did not go off. Danny, who hadn’t been looking forward to how his ghost sense would feel against his abused throat, sighed in relief.

“Wait,” said Sam, “the static- Danny, was that you?”

Danny shrugged. If it was, it wasn’t on purpose.

“Maybe… Can you try to talk again?”

That would hurt. He made a face.

“I know,” said Sam. “But if it was you, don’t you want to know?”

“Could be the start of a new ghost power,” said Tucker, lying back down.

Danny rolled his eyes, but once again tried to speak. Once again, the sound of the documentary cut out, replaced by something else. Something that wasn’t words, but also wasn’t just random noise.

“Weird,” said Tucker. “So. New power, I guess. Do you think you’ll be able to do that without your voice gone?”

Danny shrugged. It wasn’t like these things came with a guidebook. Also, this didn’t seem particularly useful for anything except getting his friends’ attention when he was temporarily mute.

“I wonder if it works on recordings,” mused Tucker. “It’d be useful for making sure no one catches you transforming on film.”

Ah. That was true.

“We’d have to test it,” said Sam.

Danny dropped back onto the floor. He didn’t want to do anything today.

“Later?” suggested Sam. “Maybe once your voice is back?”

Danny gave her a thumbs up.

.

Danny’s voice came back the next day, as usual. Trying to mess with audio electronics had no effect, so they sort of forgot about it and ignored it. It wasn’t important.

They didn’t think it was important.

Danny kept using his Ghostly Wail as a trump card. His voice always took a vacation afterwards, but never for too long. Never long enough for Danny to worry. His parents were making noises about bringing Danny to the doctor, maybe a throat specialist. But they were ridiculously easy to distract.

Everything was normal. Everything was fine.

Until Technus came by with a massive upgrade, courtesy of Vlad, Danny suspected, and Danny had to use his wail twice in a row.

He managed to cap the thermos before he doubled over, coughing. Blood speckled the asphalt below him. Which was disturbing for a number of reasons, not least of which being that he was in ghost form, and shouldn’t be bleeding red at all.

He heard a gasp, and twisted in a way that probably would have broken a normal, human spine.

Sam and Tucker were looking at him with a great deal of consternation and worry.

“Dude…” said Tucker, softly.

Danny winced, and his rings flickered.

“Don’t do that now,” said Sam, scoldingly. “Shoot. We need to get you to Frostbite or something. That’s- Oh my gosh. Frick.”

Danny grimaced. They’d seen him more beaten up, but this amount of blood from the mouth probably was a more disturbing image than bruises and random cuts.

His rings flickered again.

Tucker swallowed hard. “We’ve gotta… Um. Somewhere to transform. Yeah.”

“Alley,” said Sam, pushing.

Danny let go of his transformation as soon as he was out of sight, and leaned against Tucker. He was so incredibly tired. He coughed, lightly, and more blood dribbled from his mouth.

“Oh, gross,” complained Tucker. “Are you, ah, jeeze, you’re not okay.”

No joke.

“Frostbite,” said Sam. “Danny, you up to- What am I saying, of course you’re not. Tucker, you’re going to have to drive.”

“Uh,” started Tucker.

“Since I’m going to be dealing with first aid stuff.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah, I can drive.”

.

Danny wheezed as Tucker made another wrong turn and almost plowed them into a half-melted wall. Sure, the Speeder could phase through just about anything here, but that ‘just about’ was a significant concern.

Plus, going too far that way would put a lot of extra time on their journey. Like. A lot. Some kind of fourth spacial dimension nonsense.

“Sorry!” said Tucker. “Did your parents update the controls or something?”

They had, but Danny couldn’t exactly explain how at the moment. He shrugged.

Eventually, they did arrive at the Far Frozen. The yetis took one look at Danny’s pale face and the blood dripping down his chin and rushed him away to their hospital. Frostbite arrived, and the next hour or so was a whirlwind of tests and scans, particularly of his neck and throat.

They… looked worried. Which made Danny worried.

They gave him good painkillers, though, and lying on the ice bed did wonders for his tension.

Frostbite came back. “Great One,” said Frostbite. He settled himself, fur shifting. “Your Wail is an amazing power. From our scans of your core, it looks like you are also going to develop other vocal powers.” He paused. The silence stretched long and deep. Normally, Danny would have tried to fill it. “But,” said Frostbite, finally, “those powers are not compatible with your human vocal cords. Using them damages your human vocal cords.”

Danny nodded.

“Your ghost half will replace them,” said Frostbite, “but they… they would not be at all the same.”

Danny tilted his head.

“You are probably confused, because you speak in your ghost form, but the structures are very different. You… You would be unlikely to be able to communicate in a way humans would understand, without significant practice. Not while you were in your human form.”

That… didn’t make sense. He communicated with people now. Frostbite and the other ghosts communicated just fine.

“It’s just the type of ghost you are,” said Frostbite. “You are… powerful, Great One, bound to a powerful and painful path. I am sorry for that.”

There was something so pained and apologetic in Frostbite’s tone that Danny started shaking his head. He hardly knew what he was saying, and he still couldn’t help but reject it.

“I am sorry, Great One,” said Frostbite, “but if you keep using your Ghostly Wail, your human half will become mute.”

Frostbite knew, then, just like Danny knew. Danny wouldn’t be able to stop using his wail. Not while people were in danger. He couldn’t abandon people he could save.

Tears collected in the corners of his eyes.

It made him want to scream.

(While he still could.)

[spencers-renaissance]

Shovel Talk

Summary: Hotch and Emily find out about Derek's relationship with Spencer and decide it's time for a chat.

Tags: fluff, humour, est. rel., protective!derek, emily, and hotch, relationship reveal, mentions of past hurt spencer

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Inspired by this post by @penemily that I couldn't stop thinking about. Honestly I love this fic so much lol.

Derek isn’t quite sure how he’s found himself in a vacant office after hours, crowded into an office chair with broken wheels as the two most intimidating FBI agents he knows stand over him.

“Either of you want to tell me what the hell’s going on?” Derek asks, bewildered by how quickly his evening had changed. One minute he’s sneaking looks at Spencer over his computer screen, and the next he’s hauled off to a private room like some sort of hostage.

He’s not scared, but he’s definitely a little pissed off. It’s nearing 10pm and all he wants to do is go home with Spencer, curl up on the sofa and eat take-out in front of the TV as they celebrate closing a case in their own way. He used to celebrate by going out for a drink, falling into bed with a stranger if the opportunity arose, but a quiet evening on the sofa with his boy in his arms is surprisingly satisfying these days.

Hotch raises an eyebrow. “We know,” he says simply, something fierce behind his words.

Derek’s heart skips a beat. It’s not hard to figure out what it is he’s talking about. He and Spencer had started dating a couple of months ago but had decided to keep it under wraps for now; something so young and beautiful was too precious to expose to all the inevitable eventual complications just yet. They’re so ridiculously smitten, though, that he’s not exactly surprised two profilers paying close attention had figured it out.

Ignoring the quietly humming nerves starting up in his stomach, he mirrors Hotch’s raised eyebrow, trying not to look as affected as he feels. “So… what? You wait for Spencer to go to the bathroom to lure me to an empty office to beat me up?”

“Maybe,” Emily replies, voice dry.

Behind the nerves and the posturing, Derek can’t feel a small twinge of hurt. “Look, guys, we expected it to be a bit of a shock, but we thought you’d at least be happy for us—”

“It’s not a shock,” Hotch interrupts.

“What?”

“It’s not a shock,” Emily repeats. “Everyone saw this coming a mile off. We’re not surprised.”

Now, he’s even more lost. “Look, can you guys just sit down? You towering over me is creeping me out, man.”

“Good,” Hotch says easily.

Irritation takes over, and he stands up. “You know what, if you’re gonna be funny about it, I don’t actually have to be here.”

Before he can actually make to leave, though, Hotch is shoving him back down into the chair, old metal and plastic creaking under the force of his caught-off-guard body hitting it again. “Stay.”

“What is going on?” Derek explodes. Maybe under different circumstances he’d be able to profile the situation but as it stands, he’s stressed and confused, desperate only to be allowed to leave this dark, cramped room and take Spencer back to his place. It almost surprises him that all he craves in such a weird and unfamiliar situation is cuddles and a nature documentary, but he’s been with Spencer long enough for it to be approaching normal. The younger man’s probably back at his desk by now, wondering where he is, and Derek would hate for him to be worried. He just wants to go home.

“Derek, we are happy for you and Spencer,” Emily finally explains. “But we couldn’t in good conscience let this go on without having a… chat.” Her face twists into the faux charming expression he’s watched her use to disarm unsubs countless times. It stings a little that she’s using it on him.

He splutters a little as a realisation dawns on him, equal parts bemused and offended. “This is… this is a shovel talk!”

“Yes,” Hotch says with a straight face, his expression tight and intimidating as he tilts his head to the side slightly, clearly entirely unaffected by Derek’s emotions. “This is a shovel talk.”

Derek feels himself relax, tension easing slightly. “Guys, I appreciate the sentiment, but Spencer’s my boyfriend; nobody wants to protect him more than I do. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m pretty sure we could give you a run for your money,” Emily says, her expression quickly transforming into something far more dangerous and challenging than only moments previously. “Spencer has something every single member of this team would die to protect. And if you get in our way, then we’re going to have a problem.”

“Emily, what, we’re friends.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, shrugging easily, “and I love you. But Spencer is my little brother, and I would do anything to stop him from getting hurt. As long as you don’t interfere with my primary mission, we’ll be fine.”

Hotch speaks before Derek can get a word in. “Derek, I knew Spencer long before you did. I remember the first time Gideon brought him to one of our lunches, and I saw something in him that made my heart ache. It didn’t take me long to realise that what I saw were the scars left by incredible deep-seated pain. Spencer has been through hell and back throughout his life, and he’s been hurt repeatedly by people who were supposed to protect him, including Gideon. I would do anything to prevent him from getting hurt by someone like that again, you hear me? Anything.”

As confusing as this all is, Derek can’t help but feel touched by Hotch’s earnest, emotional speech. Most of his nightmares these days revolve around Spencer getting hurt, and it’s kind of reassuring to know that he has so many people in the world who will stop at nothing to prevent those horrible dreams from spiralling into reality.

He can’t help but smile a little. “I’m glad he has you two,” Derek says honestly, looking between them, “but I can assure you that if I ever hurt Spencer for some unfathomable reason, your services wouldn’t be needed. I would hate myself enough for all three of us.” Even just considering the hypothetical possibility of hurting Spencer makes his stomach turn: it’s enough for him to know that he wouldn’t need Hotch and Emily to hold him accountable to that, his own self-loathing would be punishment enough.

It seems to appease Hotch and Emily, who Derek realises look sort of like intimidating twin mafia bosses standing over him like this, and they finally step back a little, posture relaxing.

“Well, what are you waiting for then?” Emily says, smiling for real this time. “Get your boy and get home. It’s getting late, you know.”

He rolls his eyes at her as he makes his way to the door.

“Oh, and Derek,” Hotch says, laying a hand on his shoulder, turning him before he can leave, a genuine smile on his face too, “I am actually happy for you and Spencer.”

Derek grins at that. He really is a lucky, lucky man. “Thanks, Hotch.”

“What was that about?” Spencer asks, his features twisting in curiosity as Derek makes his way across the bullpen to his boyfriend, Hotch and Emily emerging from the same room moments later.

Derek doesn’t answer properly, laughing instead. “You got some good friends, you know that?”

Spencer nods, still looking a little confused, but clearly deciding to let it go as he slings his messenger bag across his body, standing up from his desk. Derek slings an arm around Spencer’s shoulders, leading him towards the exit as his insides twist at the adorable blush that colours Spencer’s cheeks so prettily.

“Derek,” he hisses, “shouldn’t we be leaving separately?”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he chuckles, looking over his shoulder. Spencer does the same, blushing even fiercer as he spots Hotch and Emily leaning against the railing, overlooking the bullpen with all-knowing looks on their faces.

“Oh my god,” Spencer mumbles, clearly embarrassed, but Derek just laughs again as they leave the bullpen and approach the elevators.

“Come on, pretty boy,” he sighs happily, sliding the arm around his shoulders to rest at his waist, fingertips pressing into the small frame of the boy he’s already falling in love with. “Let’s get you home. That penguin documentary awaits.”

“You’re gonna watch Emperors and Kings with me?” Spencer’s happy exclamation and the delighted expression on his face only warms his heart further, and in that moment he decides that he wants a happy Spencer and another nature documentary within his reach for the rest of his life.

Surprisingly, it’s not as terrifying a thought as it might once have been.

(If Derek thinks the shovel talk from Hotch and Emily is bad, though, it’s nothing compared to the one he gets from Penelope. By the end of the next day, he’s somehow reduced to tears that are both happy and the product of extreme terror, on the receiving end of a ‘baby girl’ ban for keeping it from her for so long. In the end, he decides that it’s probably an alright price to pay for everything beautiful that his life has blossomed into over the last few months.)

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @jellejareau @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @queerminalminds (taglist form)

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

Would you know of like. Hobbies to start/things to do that don't require any physical objects or money, bc I have neither and have no idea what to do with myself. (I mean, that's all of the time, not bc of the virus since my school is still in session, but it might also be helpful for other people rn maybe? idk)

that’s a great question! starting off, i have a distractions tag that has lots of links for games and sites that can help pass the time, and some other posts that i’ll link straight to here, along with other interesting things i can find on my blog:

100+ Legal Sites to Download Literature

free online courses from Harvard / free online courses from MIT

24 Invaluable Skills To Learn For Free Online This Year

learn origami

free art programs

educational youtube channels

freerice.com (answer questions and donate rice)

hobbies masterpost

yoga for beginners (if you don’t have a yoga mat, you could probably make do with a towel)

free documentaries

youtube channels for exercise

learn things for free!

free online language courses

learn american sign language / signschool / asl resources

PBS Nova / PBS Nature

free Windows applications

read this if you want to start pirating media

look up the apps Overdrive, Libby, and Hoopla for free digital content from your local library

language pod company

37 best websites for learning a new skill

download photoshop and sai for free

internet resources for education

best educational websites

libguides

huge google drive folder of free essays and books on social issues

primewire (a site that collects streaming links)

some of my tags:

gardening tag (if you have a yard, you might be able to plant some things you already own, like garlic or tomato seeds)

yoga tag (again, you don’t have a yoga mat, a towel should suffice)

exercise tag

writing tag (for improving your writing skills)

adulting tag (you might learn some stuff)

school tag (even if you’re not in school, lots of interesting resources)

some youtube videos/channels:

Mystery Science Theater 3000 (Complete, Ordered MST3K Collection)

Bob Ross

Watercolor by Shibasaki

How It’s Made

TEDtalks

Li Ziqi

What I’ve Learned

Bon Appetit test kitchen

Lush How It’s Made

Gayle

Body Positive Yoga

search “singing lessons” and you can find lots of videos to help you improve your voice, no matter how bad you think you are

failing all else, Cracked can always keep me occupied for hours.

if anyone has any youtube channels or sites they recommend, please comment or reply and i’ll add them. take care of yourself, everyone.

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Multi-Dimensional Pt. 5

 In which you have a genius idea to take these suckers out, you accidentally do something you’re not supposed to, and you take the taller bit of your friends out. 

----

And then, you realize, that it's getting deeper into October.

As it got deeper into October, the dwarves and hobbit remain in your house. It's been a total of 2 1/2 weeks, now, and you can tell they're getting antsy from staying in one place for so long.

Like, around halloween time.

An idea strikes you in the head like a bag of bricks, and right away you realize that you're a genius.

You're sitting on the couch with Bilbo, Oin, and Bofur when the lightbulb goes off in your head suddenly, and once it does you hop to your feet and run upstairs at top speed, successfully baffling everyone idly watching the nature documentary you put on.

You pass Dwalin and Balin while you zoom to your bedroom, and when they see you run past them like freaking Speedy Gonzales they're both super confused.

Right away you grab your laptop off your bed and pull up a window.

The keys of your compute clack softly while you type in your town as well as 'Halloween Festival' and the first few results as well as images on the Google engine prove your theory.

Every year here people dress up in advance and celebrate throughout the duration of the week leading up to it. Of course, the trick-or-treating only happens on the day of, but there are a plethora of other things for people to do during that week.

People dress up, children go on field trips, there's a festival, and even the grocery stores have little events they put on to promote their business.

You've never really gone before since crowded places aren't the most comfortable for you, but you actually feel a little giddy about taking them all to see the town with you.

Right away you know you're going to have to buy them all costumes, but for the last week you've been pet sitting this rich couples Rag-doll cat, Princess, and your going rate is $18/hr for a week... Do the math ;).

You're going to get paid later in the day today after you drop her back off at their house, and that's not even accounting for the other animals you've been watching for varying amounts as well.

So, essentially, you're gonna be perfectly fine financially.

Anyways, as soon as you're done doing your little bit of research there on your computer you close it and leave your room again, hopping down the stairs with a big bright smile on your face.

When you reenter the living room, everyone is gathered there and looking at you expectantly.

At first, you don't do or say anything since you're super confused, but when the silence begins to drag on for too long you ask hesitantly, "Uh... Is everything alright? What's going on?"

"Well, you left to your room very quickly." Bilbo comments, standing up from his spot on the couch, "But from the smile on your face, I'm assuming it wasn't because of anything bad?"

You nod your head and sigh, leaning down to pet Mittens who is rubbing herself against your legs, "Yeah, everything's fine. It's great, actually." You pause for dramatic effect, then add, "I just figured out a way to take all of you out! Like, to see the town and stuff!"

"You have?" Thorin asks, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Mmhm!" You stand up straight and nod your head quickly, bouncing on the balls of your feet, "See, I figured I'd probably be able to take you and maybe Kili, Bofur, and Dwalin out at some point... like, if some of you were to groom yourselves different or wear hats...," once more you stop your speech and realize that may be offensive, "N-Not that I think there's anything wrong with how you look-"

"Nobody is offended, I'm sure. Go on." Thorin urges, amusement present on their faces from your sudden frantic backtracking so you don't offend them.

"R-Right, uh... anyways, you guys are taller so I knew I could probably bring you along sometime, but I wasn't sure how to get everyone else to come along, and then I realized that this next week is the week leading up to halloween!" You say it like it will answer all their questions, forgetting that they probably don't know what halloween is.

Silence passes by for a few seconds as they wait for you to go on, and when you don't Kili asks, "What's 'halloween'?"

"Oh, yeah, it's like, a holiday where children dress up and go to peoples houses to get candy. And when I say dress up, I mean in costumes." You rub the back of your neck while you explain and add, "In my city, the place we are now, we celebrate throughout the whole week. There are games, festivals, and lots of events... and there are people running around in masks all of the time. So I can get some of you costumes and then I can bring you all along!" Your smile returns as you pick apart the details, and it seems your excitement is contagious.

"Wait, so we will get to walk around the town and see other things?" Nori questions, looking over at his brothers with a smile.

"Yeah, but I gotta get you costumes first. Like, ghosts and some masks of different things. But if we wanna make the most of our time then I should probably go now."

You turn after that and go to the counter to grab your purse, pausing when Balin asks, "So it's a holiday where people run around in disguises, getting candy, and playing games as a community?"

Once again you nod your head, turning around to look at him with the same bright smile on your face.

"So, anyone can be anyone?" The older dwarf asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Yeah, pretty much." You look down and go through your purse, making sure everything you need is in there before walking over to put on your tennis shoes.

"Even the man who was here the week before?"

Now that certainly gives you a pause.

Before you were never worried about it, but now with what's happened with him, you aren't so sure that it's so safe anymore.

"Um... yeah, I guess." You'd rather not think about it, so you start to tie your laces up. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Well, you already said that you can bring some of us, so why not do that now? Just to make sure?" Balin asks, though it's more of a 'you should really do it cause we're gonna freak out if you don't'.

You don't respond and instead finish tying your shoes first, thinking over his request.

When you're done doing up your shoes you turn and see that they're all looking at you with similar expressions of worry, and it makes you sigh, "Okay, fine. But whoever goes can't wear their normal clothes cause people will be weirded out. The halloween thing doesn't start for another day."

There's a moment of silence while some of them exchange looks before Thorin speaks, "You mentioned Kili and myself first. Surely that should be fine."

"Um..." You look between the two and tilt your head to the side thoughtfully, arms crossed over your chest. "Sure. But your hair is definitely going to stick out, Thorin."

He nods his head in understanding.

"And what about me?" Kili asks eagerly. It seems he's really excited about finally being able to leave your property.

"You're fine, I think. Am I taking both of you?" You inquire with furrowed eyebrows, walking a few steps forward.

"You might as well." Kili says with a big silly smile.

Well, you can't argue with that logic.

You shrug your shoulders and head up the stairs again, "Alright, go get changed into some of the clothes I gave you."

---

Once they're dressed in t-shirts and sweatpants (you didn't know their sizes so you got whatever would fit at the time) you observe them both with narrowed eyes while rubbing your chin.

"Hm... On a scale of 1 to 10, I give Kili a 9 and Thorin a 6." You say after a moment, turning to look at everyone else and get their opinions.

"What is the scale referring to?" Fili pipes up suddenly, looking up at you.

"How convincing they are."

"Why do I get a 6?" Thorin grumbles, looking at you pointedly.

"Your hair." You reply simply, walking over with a hair tie stretched between your fingers, "Hold still."

You gather his hair over his shoulders and pull it back, putting his hair through it and wrapping it around until it's nice and tight.

As soon as you're finished, you step around him and look to see if it's made a difference, and when you've determined that it's good, you smile, "Okay, now it's at least an 8." You turn towards Kili and ask, "Your hair is fine, right? Or do you want me to put it up?"

He doesn't say anything and neither does anyone else, and when the silence persists you raise an eyebrow, "Hello? Earth to Kili, I just asked you a question."

"Uh, no, you don't have to, thank you." He shakes his head and seems to come to some sort of realization since he starts to smile at his uncle in that big teasing grin you've, unfortunately, become accustomed to.

You nod your head and skip back over to the counter, swiping your keys off of it before heading to the front door.

"Come out whenever, I'm gonna get my car started."

Once you're out of the house some of the dwarves begin to laugh, and Kili pokes fun at his uncle, "Thorin, you have quite a red face, are you sure you can go?"

Thorin glares at his nephew and replies coldly, "She meant nothing by it."

"Right, but is that disappointment I hear?"

The glare he throws his nephew is so withering it could suck the life right out of a flower, but Kili is no flower, so he only laughs more.

"She offered to do yours too, you know." Fili adds when he begins to feel bad for his uncle.

Kili pauses his laughter and glares at his brother, "But she didn't do it."

"She would've."

"Oh hush, you're just upset that she didn't ask to do your hair." Kili shoots back, glaring at his brother.

"I am not, because unlike everyone else, I knew she meant naught by asking." He shoots back with a smirk.

Kili huffs indignantly and glares at his brother, saying no more as he heads out the door after you.

Thorin turns to everyone before following and states, "Try not to destroy anything while we are gone." His voice is firm and he waits until he gets nods from them all before leaving after you.

---

Once you're all in the car you put it into drive and go, turning up the radio so the car won't be completely filled with silence while you drive.

Occasionally, you'll glance at Thorin in the passenger seat or Kili in the back, and each time you do they're looking out the window at the passing scenery with awe.

"If you're impressed now, wait until we get into the big city." You comment suddenly, smiling to yourself while you watch the road ahead.

And when you do arrive in the city, they are impressed indeed.

The gasp that leaves Kili when you drive through the first big street draws a giggle from you, and when he presses his face against the window as you pull into the parking lot of the seasonal halloween store, your smile grows even bigger.

Even Thorin is impressed by all the wonderful things around, and when you turn off the car after parking you turn to look at them, "Thoughts so far?"

"It's wonderful." Kili breathes, looking at the bright, moving signs and huge stores all around.

"Yes, I don't believe I've ever seen anything so grand before." Thorin agrees, looking over at you with a smile of his own.

"Well if this impresses you, wait until we get inside the store. Try not to get scared."

---

The three of you eventually make it inside, and when you do they are in awe once more.

The seasonal store is dark with black painted walls and bright white florescent lights, and there are various halloween and horror things everywhere.

When you walk in there is one of those electronic jump-scare things, and while you were expecting it, the poor dears behind you weren't.

The witch thing pops out and cackles loudly, saying one of her many phrases, and as soon as she does both Kili and Thorin freak out. And when I say freak out, I mean 'pulled out some small weapons they decided to bring and screaming' freak out.

Luckily there is no one around at the moment, so you step between them and the witch and laugh nervously, "Put those away please. We're gonna get kicked out if anyone sees you with those."

They look between you and the electronic woman a few times before slowly putting their knives away and relaxing their stances.

"Thank you..."

"What is that?" Kili asks, glaring at the ugly jump-scare machine while you walk past it.

"It's a halloween decoration designed to scare people. And it seems like it worked too." You reply easily, looking back at them with a more mischievous smile.

Kili looks around slightly nervously and grumbles defensively, "I wasn't that scared... Uncles screams are what startled me."

"My screams? Kili, let's not lie now, clearly you were horrified." Thorin says disapprovingly, shaking his head.

"Aw, you guys are cute." You purr jokingly, waltzing up to the kids costumes isle.

They stop arguing after that.

You browse through the messy shelves quietly for a little while, trying to find the best ones, when you see a doggie in the cutest ghost costume.

A squeal leaves your lips when you see the cutie pie and you cup your cheeks as an adoring expression comes onto your face.

Without hesitation you hop over to the owner and ask excitedly, "Where did you get that?"

The man with the dog looked up quickly upon hearing your excited yelp and when he saw your exuberant form he smiled too, "I bought it a week ago here. They're near the back."

His answer fills you with joy, and you continue to stare at his pupper for a moment before he says, "You can pet her if you want, she doesn't bite."

He doesn't need to tell you twice.

You kneel down right away and scratch behind her ears, and her tail begins to wag wildly at the attention.

It seems that she likes you just as much, because she takes a seat and leans into you when you scratch her all over like you do with your dogs. It's at that moment when you begin to wonder if she'll fit in your purse.

Before you can finish your calculations and plans on stealing this mans dog you hear someone clear their throat and you realize then that you forgot all about Thorin and Kili.

You turn your head and see the two of them standing there with amused expressions on their faces.

Upon realization that they're watching you, and have been for a little while now, you jump to your feet and feel your face heat up. "I-If you make fun of me I'll leave both of you here." You threaten very unconvincingly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Kili starts to laugh but he doesn't say anything about it, looking at his uncle who also releases a few chuckles of his own.

You glance back at the man and see that he's looking at them, and you realize he probably thinks Kili's short stature is a little odd.

"U-Uh, thanks for letting me pet your dog!" You say quickly, heading back over to the two of them with a blush on your cheeks.

You turn back to the shelves of costumes and the man and his dog walk away, and once their gone you glare at the two of them half heartedly. "You guys are total meanies." There is faux bitterness in your voice when you speak as well, and it only brings more laughter from them.

"I only find it cute." Kili states, smiling good naturedly before continuing, "Every time you see an animal you get very excited."

"Cause I love animals."

"Yes, we can tell." Thorin muses, stepping up next to you to look at the spiderman mask in your hand.

You tap your foot against the ground a few times before putting the mask back.

A ghost costume for Bilbo; check.

That is all.

You literally don't have anything for anyone else, and honestly you're beginning to think that it's impo-

And then another idea hits you.

Class of middle/high-schoolers in a fantasy club. It's farfetched and barely believable, but most people won't say anything about it out of fear of being offensive, so it's perfect!

You don't have to buy them costumes at all (minus Bilbo), all you need is stuff to make them look less like dwarves and more like children pretending to be dwarves.

It sounds easier than it actually is, but you think you can pull it off. All you need is some netting, makeup, wigs, and nose and scar wav and you'll be set.

Once you get this idea you run away from the kids section with the ghost section and head toward the halloween makeup isle, seeking out the items mentioned previously without hesitation.

You find what you're looking for in minutes, and once you've got everything you zoom to the checkout since you're going to need to look up some tips on how to pull this off.

You're so excited you nearly forget to make sure Kili and Thorin are still with you, but once you see them you smile in relief and pay for everything.

Once you're all back in your car, Thorin asks, "I thought we were going to get masks?"

"Well, we were. But then I had an amazing idea consisting of pretending you're all students or something who invested in really expensive dwarf costumes. It's perfect, 'cause no one will ask and we'll get lots of compliments."

Thorin nods his head slowly and puts his belt on like you showed him, but before you go you turn and look at Kili expectantly.

The young dwarf doesn't say anything at first, but when your staring consists he asks slowly, "What...?"

"Put on your seatbelt."

There's more silence until he puts it on, raising an expectant eyebrow at you, "Is that better?"

"Much."

[whump-town]

Red Fish, Blue Fish

This is for @genevievedarcygranger (i'm sorry you deserve better than whatever this is)

Hank chilling with Hotch but it's sad bc I don't know how to do happy

On Thursday Hank sits out on his front porch with his banana mushed in his right hand and his sippy cup in the other. He waits, as he does every Thursday, for the sound of Hotch’s old Jeep to pull into the driveway. The car doesn’t look like anything he’d drive but it’s one of the last things he has of Haley’s - the Jeep they bought together in Seattle. Her dream car. He drives it now for practicality and because as he gets older silly things make him sentimental. And he just loves this old car.

And Hank loves it even more.

Hank grows agitated - a deep feeling in his stomach making him just as upset as the mashed banana he now wants off his hands. Savannah steps out on the porch with him, having left knowing he’d stay put because he’d never miss Hotch pulling in for anything. She’s got a wash rag and drags the warmed cloth over his face and hands. Taking what’s left of the banana and tossing it into the grass for a bird to eat.

“Come on,” Savannah picks him up. “We gotta get you dressed.” Hank goes even if he’s a little confused. Every Tuesday and Thursday for as long as Hank can remember he’s spent the work day at Hotch’s. Occasionally, (if Hotch has a doctor’s appointment and when Jack has breaks from college) that planning gets mixed up and Hank doesn’t take it well. They come rarely because over the last three years Hotch just doesn’t schedule appointments for those days and Jack is nearly twenty-one and spends his breaks doing other things. Not hanging with his dad.

Hank realizes Hotch isn’t coming when Savannah starts to draw him a bath. He fights her even though he typically loves baths. “No mama,” he tries to push himself out of her arms. He wants to go back to the porch. Hotch can’t come unless Hank is down there to watch for him. “No mama no!” He cries when she’s triumphant and places him down in the tub. “Hops,” he reminds her with fat tears rolling his cheeks. “Hops comin’ mama. Hops.”

She washes the rest of the banana off of him, sighing, and trying not to get upset herself. “Hops isn’t coming baby.” He hadn’t come last week either but Hank had been too distracted by Uncle Spence making a surprise visit to notice. Which was entirely the point of Spencer coming on Hotch’s normally scheduled days. Savannah knew she wouldn’t be as lucky this week. Hank had noticed, he’d realized how long it had been since Hotch came around. And she’d still let him think Hotch was coming this morning. She needed the hour to gather herself, to call Derek, and be certain. To reassure herself of what’s happening.

Hank stops fighting her. His little shoulders drop and he sniffles pitfully as he lets her wash his body back off. “Not comin’?” he mumbles. Hotch always comes. He picks Hank up from DayCare early and they go to the park for ice cream. All it takes is one phone call and, even with other plans, Hotch will diverge his path to get Hank. How many lunches has Hank been to? Eating a banana muffin, seated on the ground, and leaning against Hotch’s leg while he and Emily talk over coffee in some dusty cafe’s bookstore. How many prestigious academy lectures? Laying on the floor and coloring while Hotch guest speaks in one of Reid’s classes.

Savannah stops and looks at her son. His little eyes are full of far too much sorrow for someone so small and typically full of such overwhelming joy. She wipes one of his tears and frowns when he sniffles, rubbing his nose with the back of his chubby fist. “We’re going to Hops’ house,” she tells him, “but you can’t see Hops. Not today, okay?” She cups his cheek, “Hops is sick.”

He didn’t tell anyone. Not Emily the Tuesday after he found out over their weekly coffee. He couldn’t. Not with Hank sitting in her lap and struggling to identify words he recognizes from One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. Not when he’d dropped Hank off knowing the treatment plan he agreed to would probably mean he’d eventually be too sick to take Hank every week. But he couldn’t say it out loud and make it true.

Last Monday he arranged for Dave to pick him up from the hospital after the surgery the oncologist thought would be minimal and a successful measure to get the cancer out of his body. With its success chemo could eradicate the rest and Hotch would manage to get through the whole mess without anyone having known a thing - the best alternative, in his opinion.

But his heart never does well under the stress of anesthesia.

“Sick?” Hank repeats and he turns this over in his head. Sick. He knows what to do. He nods his head, “o’tay. Gonna help?”

Savannah stops and refrains from the truth which is that there’s nothing they can do. This is all Hotch and the doctors. They’re only going over to his house - you know, she doesn't even know why they’re going over there. Dave and Emily have taken up a semi-permanent residence. Garcia’s bringing food and with Garcia comes Reid because he won’t say no to food. Derek’s over to put up a bar in the shower and he’ll be sucked into staying for dinner and wants her there so he doesn’t have to be alone. With all their normal babysitters there, Hank has to come as well.

With a hesitant nod, Savannah agrees. “Yeah, baby, we’re gonna help.”

Hank packs a bag to keep himself entertained under the helpful guide of his mother. He refuses the books she wants him to take and informs her moodily that he wants Hops’ books and not trucks. He can’t read the books at Hotch’s house but Savannah caves and decides that’s a problem for later. With his little bag on his back, he leads Savannah to the bathroom. Asks for the bandaids - stickers, he calls them - under the understanding that ouchies and fevers are the same as whatever is wrong with Hops and a bandaid will help. Savannah lets him take three. They’re just bandaids and it’s not a big deal.

His bandaids in one hand and his sippy cup in the other, Hank lets his mother put him in the car seat with no complaint. He’s forgotten his mother’s statement about not seeing Hotch and grows eager, excited as they take the familiar turns to get to Hotch’s house.

Derek meets them outside, his tension apparent to Savannah. He’s upset and she gets out, leaving Hank in the car out of earshot while they talk softly outside. Derek wipes his eyes of the tears trying to boil over, frustrated with himself for being upset and Savannah rubs his arm. Comforting him where he almost wishes she’d pressure him to pull himself together. She pulls him into a hug, holding him for a moment while he struggles to get a hold of his emotions. He’s scared and it hurts to see Hotch like this but he can’t and he won’t leave the team here alone. It isn’t fair and they could all use a little of Hank’s magic right now.

But Hank could care less about any of them.

He wants one person and one person only.

“Hank!”

Hank Morgan has had four-years to understand what everyone else around him leans blindly into. There is no need to knock, no shout in warning as he runs for the door of his favorite person in the whole world. His father can’t understand it, no one really can, but Hank loves Hotch. And after two weeks of missed Thursdays with no playing in the garden and napping to the sound of nature documentaries voiced by people with weird accents Hank is eager. He’s blind, he’s desperate and despite his father’s tone of voice he still fully expects to throw the front door open and find Hotch.

“Hank -” Derek tries to grab his son by the shoulders and stop his rapid pace towards the house. But even on baby legs the second he’s placed down on the ground, he’s running. Derek needs to give him a warning for what lies ahead but Hanks is on a roll with his excitement leading the pack. He slips right past his dad giving an excited little shout as he goes. It takes him a second to get up the steps, his legs too short to just run straight up them.

But Hotch isn’t standing at the front door.

Uncle Dave meets him instead on the other side of the door and cocks an eyebrow that’s humorous and light despite the way that the dimly lit living room strangles any chance at a good mood. “Where are you running off to short stack?” He’s not given a chance to answer as he’s lifted up, smothered in affections that he only pays half a mind.

Hank lets them kiss at his face. He limply goes into Spencer’s arms and just holds still while the genius squeezes the life out of him. Not even a single comment when Penelope has to brush tears from her eyes to accept him into her arms. He goes from person to person, answering their silly questions and sitting still with the understanding that he’ll end up with who he wants. He gets to Emily though and there is no Hops sitting beside her. No grumbling Hank has grown accustomed to hearing when the two of them are in the same room.

“Want Hops,” he tells Emily softly because if anyone can tell him where to find his rogue friend it’s Emily. In the way that he knows his mom is always with his dad, that Uncle Spence and Penny arrive in the same car, he knows that, typically, where Emily is there will eventually be a Hotch.

Emily smiles - a smile where her sadness is far better hidden than any of the others - and takes on a teasing tone. “Silly old Hops is taking a nap, ” she tells him with a shake of her head. She redirects him, hopes to distract him. “So, why don’t we go get a snack instead? Penny brought cookies and I think Hops has popsicles.” She kisses his forehead and stands, pulling him along with her. “What’re you thinking? Red popsicle?”

Hank turns over her shoulder, looking in the direction of the living room. He spots Hotch’s room, the door closed and the lights off. There he is, Hank knows. He’s in his room.

“Look—” Emily squeezes him, jerks his attention to the open freezer. “You want a squeeze?” She points to the box of GoGo squeez applesauce. The ones Hotch always keeps on hand for Hank. Typically, he can’t refuse them but Hank isn’t bothered with them. Emily sighs, “alright. Here, let me put you down. We’ll see what he has in the cabinets.” The second that Hank is on the ground he’s walking away. Leaving Emily in the kitchen trying to decide if these smiling gummies are half as good as they look.

Hank goes back to Hotch’s office, fingers trailing down the wall as he goes. He’s heading for the books he knows are for him on the lower shelf. He does take a moment to touch the covers of some of the larger books, ones he can only barely reach. Hotch steers him away from them but Hank likes their deep colors and their golden designs. It only makes him more curious as to what lies inside them. Mostly, he just wants to understand. That curiosity he has to know everything he can about the people around him. How his dad works with a hammer - he’s so strong it’s crazy. What Uncle Dave does with all the foods he puts in the pots and how it ends up tasting so good. And, more than anything else, what’s in these damn books.

Hank has his own shelf full of books that were once Jack’s and others that are a collection of books Hank has left here and ones that Hotch buys him when they go to bookstores. Hank decides on Dr. Seus a yellow book with fish - he has a hard time with the color yellow and as he pulls it down to take it to Hotch he’s excited to inform Hotch on it’s color. Though, he thinks it’s green.

It’s not hard to manage to get back to Hotch’s room, no one’s paying him any attention. Penelope is crying again and Savannah is rubbing Derek’s back, all of them listening to Dave talk somberly. They’re odd, Hank thinks, but that’s okay.

He pushes Hotch’s bedroom door open and is disheartened to find it so dark. No matter how many times Derek assures him there’s nothing in the dark and no matter how many times he’s taken a nap in this very room… he’s scared. Hesitantly, Hank steps into the dark back still close to safety. “Hops?” he asks softly. He can see something move on the bed, the hiss of something softly trailing through the room. Something beeps and it makes him jump and Hank bolts for the side of the bed. Running blindly to the side he thinks Hotch is at.

“Hops,” Hank frantically sweeps his arm over the side. He’s just a little too small to make it up the side by himself but he tries frantically. “Up Hops.”

Hotch coughs, squinting into the dark. He’d heard the door open - removed from himself in a distinctly drugged kind of way. In the back of his mind, the seemingly only alert part of him, assumed it was Dave back with more pills to swallow. Tiny fingers grab his wrist and Hank’s pleading, his fear, cuts through the fog idly. Hotch is pleasantly surprised to find Hank - afterall, he’d been more alert this morning enough to try and fight Dave over his typical day. Dave had been right though, Hotch isn’t well enough to watch after a toddler. Hank hits his side and the world brightens, pulled to focus by sharp pain that steals his breath.

“Please,” Hank cries. “Hops?”

Hotch can’t pull himself upright but he can vaguely make out Hank by his side. Little fingers holding onto the blanket. “Easy, ” Hotch whispers. He offers Hank his hand, grunting when the toddler quickly attaches himself to it. He’s sniffling, still crying as he grunts and struggles to climb up the side of Hotch's bed. His legs are a little too short but he makes up for it with determination. “Almost there, ” Hotch praises, moving his hand and giving the back of Hank’s pants a little pull to get him the rest of the way up.

Hank melts straight into him. Pushing his face into Hotch’s side and holding him, both arms around Hotch’s chest and holding tight. Hotch places his hand on Hank's back, rubbing it until his little sobs die down. “What are you crying for?” Hotch holds him close, ignoring the dull ache across his chest. After being stuck in this room, drugged and laying in the dark, he needs all the help he can get. He needs Hank with all his little questions and his snacks.

Hank calms down, sniffling sadly as he pops back up and rubs at his eyes. He looks down at Hotch, taking in this new situation. There’s a tube snaking around him and Hank can’t tell where it goes in or if it does but he frowns because he knows it must hurt and he doesn’t like that. Even the canal running Hotch’s nose. Gently Hank leans forward and touches it, frowning. “Hurts?”

Hotch shakes his head, “no. It doesn’t hurt.”

With a grunt, Hank adamantly accepts this. Hotch doesn’t lie so Hank trusts him but… it looks like it hurts. Hank leans against Hotch’s chest, curled up facing him. “You takin’ nap?” Hank asks.

Hotch nods his head, “something like that…” He keeps one hand on Hank, keeping the boy from getting too excited and rolling off the bed. Hank settles down close to him, scooting as close as he can. Half sitting on Hotch’s left side facing him. Hotch reaches up, ignoring the pull of his muscles, to place his palm to Hank’s face. “You gonna lay down with me?”

Hank grins and shakes his head. “Nuh-uh!” He pulls out his book, setting it down on Hotch’s chest. He scoots himself along the side of the bed, all clumsy baby movements, until he can move Hotch’s arm around him and lean against Hotch’s side. Putting his back against Hotch and laying his head on Hotch’s shoulder. Pulling his hand around him and into his lap. “Read?” he asks, cracking the book open and showing Hotch the page.

He hasn’t got a lot of energy, feels himself slipping with the simple strain of talking and watching Hank move in the dark of the room. He’s ashamed to admit, to even think, that he can’t sit up and hunt down his reading glasses and get through a simple children's book. Not even with Hank twisting around to look up at him like that. “You know the words, buddy.” Hotch has read it to him so many times and Derek even more. He gets a kick out of saying the words before them, and knows what each page says. “Why don't you read it to me?”

Hank frowns, looking at the book, and back at Hotch. He wants to read the book but he doesn’t know how. “You’ll help?”

Hotch smiles and nods, “of course I will.”

Hank settles back down and opens the book. The room isn’t really bright enough but Hank can see the page well enough. He skips the first page. There are big words and not enough pictures. “One fish,” Hank touches each fish as he goes. “Two fishes. Red fish and blue fish.” He looks back to Hotch and he nods, he’s right. “Black fish and blue fish and old fish and baby fish and green--”

“Yellow,” Hotch corrects softly. It’s not important that he’s getting the words wrong so much as the color. “It’s a yellow fish, see?”

Hank nods and repeats after Hotch. “Yellow fish and fish with a car.” He flips the page and lays his head down on Hotch’s side, curling up closer. He sits up, “can I have blankets?”

Hotch nods and Hank cheers softly and sits up. It takes him a moment but he scurries down beside Hotch, tugging the blanket up around him. “Comfortable,” Hotch asks and Hank frowns, trying to figure that out. It takes him another moment and Hank knows what it is - he sits up and pulls Hotch’s arm around him. Letting him lean back and he nods. It makes Hotch laugh a little, smirking. “Good.”

Hank lays his head back down on Hotch’s side and opens the book.

Derek finds them ten minutes later. Hank is just looking at the pictures, humming softly to himself as he traces the fish with his finger. Hotch is asleep, breathing not sounding any better than it had before but the room feels brighter. Things not so dense.

"I wondered where you ran off to," Derek whispers as he steps in.

Hank looks up from his book, "found Hops."

Derek nods, "yeah, I see that." He won't move Hank just yet. It's as calm as Hotch has been since he came home and Hank is being good. It keeps both trouble makers out of everyone's hair. "Will you watch him for me?" Derek asks playfully. "Seems like you're doing a good job."

Hank nods, attention going back to his book. "Yeah, I'm watchin'."

Derek leans over the bed and kisses Hank's head. Stopping for a moment and just looking at Hotch. His face pale and his breathing still not right.

"Hops is okay, daddy."

Derek clears his throat and nods. As he's walking out he hears Hank start the book over. His soft voice reading out, "one fish, two fish--"

[maaneskin]

you, you, you. han jisung

note: she’s done,, she’s finally done when i tell you i’m crying but as always she’s not very good lol

is mc a stoner?? probably

description: as class president, jisung should probably care about the skateboard you have with you in class, but he doesn’t. why? because he’s very much in love with you

warnings: h jisung breaks an arm, hospital visits, skateboarding

wc: 6.5k new record omg

one.

as the class president, jisung should care about the skateboard you always had with you, and placed under your desk during class. but he didn’t. in fact, you could probably throw all the desks and chairs out of the windows, and he wouldn’t find any problem in it.

all his friends knew it, and boy, oh boy, did they make fun of him. out of everybody at the school, he had to be in love with you; a history and science genius, skater, who only hung out with your 5 friends. 

he couldn’t help it, though. the combination of your charming personality, brain, and skateboarding skills — all of it made him weak in the knees. (not to mention he found you insanely attractive, especially when you rode your board.) 

you were friends. kinda. not really. you knew him and he knew much about you. the two of you never talked outside of good morning’s and if you had a question about homework or an event, something jisung was relatively sad about.

jisung remembers the day he began crushing on you. he remembers it clearly. like it happened no longer than 10 minutes ago. he remembers seeing you skate slowly besides ryujin as she walked. one of your hands on her shoulder, letting her make you roll along, the other holding a cup from a local coffee shop. he remembers seeing you laugh as ryujin made big motions with her hands as she babbled on about something. seeing you in that moment made something inside him click and before he could register or stop it, he developed a crush. a crush that eventually turned into something deeper.

“god, you really just find the bare minimum attractive,” seungmin came up to the table his best friend was sat at, with a judging face.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” jisung moved his head from it’s resting spot on his hand and made eye contact with his friend.

“i’m talking about you being in love with a junkie,”

oh yeah, someone once started a rumor that you and your friends were junkies and did drugs behind the school. jisung never believed them and did his best to shot them down whenever he heard it, “(name) is not a junkie,” he huffed. 

seungmin rolled his eyes, “if you say so,” 

jisung shot his friend a look, but didn’t get to say anything before a certain cat like person eagerly sat down next to seungmin, “what are we talking about?” felix asked, beaming with his usual happiness.

“jisung being in love with a junkie,” seungmin answered, smiling at his friend.

“(name) is not a junkie,” jisung repeated, throwing his hands out to emphasize his words. his eyes drifted from his friends to you and your friends sitting in the back of the library, laughing. his eyes fell to under the table, where you usually kept your board when you had it with you. it wasn’t there, and it made him furrow his eyebrows.

“he’s doing it again. observing a junkie who’s in love with their skateboard,” seungmin spoke like he was a commentator on a nature documentary, making felix giggle and jisung roll his eyes with a smile.

“shut up, kim,”

“hmm,” seungmin pretended to think about jisung’s words, “you know, i don’t think i will,”

rolling his eyes, jisung couldn’t help but breath out a laugh, as felix giggled again, “you’re so stupid,”

“at least i’m not in love with someone i’ve never had a conversation with,” 

“low blow,” felix gasped dramatically, whereas jisung rolled his eyes and turned his attention to his homework.

after finally getting felix to concentrate on his work, silence fell over the three. but jisung still couldn't help himself; he kept stealing glances at you and your friends — though, mostly you. you just looked so beautiful with your head thrown back as you laughed at yuna and lia’s bickering. he let out a quiet sigh as he rested his head on his hand again, eyes directed to your figure.

seungmin noticed his friend’s staring, “the bare minimum,” he whispered, grinning when jisung reached over the table to hit him on the arm.

“shut up,”

“why don’t you just talk to them?” felix asked innocently, happy he could stop studying for the time being.

jisung leaned defeated back in the chair, his eyes drifting to you again, “they won’t like me,” 

seungmin and felix shared a look. seungmin sighed deeply. he and jisung were close; they told each other most things — that included crushes, and to say jisung talked about you would be an understatement; he always found a way to bring you up in a conversation. it frustrated seungmin to no end, if he was being honest.

“jisung,” the youngest of the three began, only continuing when he knew jisung’s attention was on him, “you’re a great guy. you’re funny, smart, not ugly, passionate, and so much more, and if (name) doesn't like you it’s their loss,” he spoke honestly.

jisung was at a loss for words and so was felix. seungmin. kim seungmin just said something sweet that wasn’t sarcastic.

seungmin’s face flushed red, looking down into his english textbook, “stop looking at me like that,”

jisung snapped out of his daze and reached over the table again, grabbing seungmin’s hand, “thank you, min, i needed that,” jisung mirrored the smile that broke out on seungmin’s face.

“why do you never say stuff like that to me?” felix suddenly whined, holding onto seungmin’s arm, pouting when the other two laughed.

two.

“hey class pres!” 

jisung stopped dead in his tracks. he knew that voice. your voice. he turned around to see you half jogging to catch up to him, “hi, (name),” he smiled awkwardly. much like seungmin said, he had never had a conversation with you, so he had no idea how to carry or present himself to you.

you smiled to him, smoothing out your white uniform shirt, “class pres,” 

praying you didn’t notice how he was following your movement, he gulped, “uh, so, what-what do you want?” 

“uhm, well,” you scratched your arm, “i need your help with…something,” 

“with what?” jisung was suspicious.

“uh, well, mr. choi took my skateboard and i need it back,” 

“and you need me for that?” 

“you have keys to the teachers offices?” 

jisung squinted his eyes at you, “yes?” he said carefully, although it sounded more like a question. his eyes widened when it hit him what you alluded, “i can't do that!” 

“please, class pres, it’s only gonna take five minutes max,”

covered in disbelief, jisung looked at you gaping, “i could lose my status!” his eyes were wide, “i've worked hard to become class president and a member of the student council!” 

there was a strict policy about how no students were allowed in the teacher's lounge without a teacher, and jisung was not about to break it.

widening your eyes and clapping your hands together, you made eye contact with the boy in front of you, “please, i’ll pay you back, i promise,” 

jisung gulped; your pleading made him feel a lot of things. he stared into your eyes, getting lost in them, “i’ll help,” he muttered before he could stop himself, “but if we get caught, you’re taking the blame,” his heart melted when you nodded enthusiastically — you were so cute.

motioning for you to follow him, jisung tried not to show his red cheeks. he probably shouldn’t have been so nervous about simply walking with you, but this was the closest he had ever been to you. he tried not to notice how your hands occasionally brushed against each other, to no avail; everytime it happened, everytime your fingers brushed against his, he felt like his hand was on fire. in a good way.

definitely in a good way.

as you approached the door to the teachers lounge, jisung felt more and more tense — he didn’t even want to think about the amount of trouble he could get in. he would get months worth of detention, his friends were all gonna leave him after he got kicked from the council, his reputation was gonna go down the drain, he was gonna lose everything, they were gonna kick him out of the school-

“aren’t you gonna unlock it?” you asked, standing a behind your class president 

jisung blinked blankly at the door, “sorry,” he mumbled, hands fumbling with the keyring he had been trusted with when he became apart of the student council, “i’m just nervous,”

“i can tell,” 

jisung could tell you were smiling.

“i can do it if you don’t want to,” you offered, licking your lips; they were really dry.

“no, no, i can do it,” jisung finally unlocked the door, softly opening, sticking his head in to see if anybody was there, “it’s empty. be quick,” 

nodding, you went past him and into the empty room, eyes darting around the room, searching for one of your most prized possessions, “there,” you whispered, eyes landing on the colorful skateboard. it was on the top of a tall shelf — you needed a chair to reach it, and the only chairs in the room were spinning chairs. 

jisung, on the other hand, was starting to shake. this was too much for his nervous heart to handle. his eyes became comically large at the sound of footsteps nearing the corner. only teachers came down here, so the chances it was just another student was slim. 

telling you someone was coming would only alert the teacher someone was there and that would only result in something that would make jisung feel bad. in the midst of his panic, he peeked into the room to see you trying to balance on a chair, that only added onto his panic. 

he quickly shut the door and tried to look normal, as the person rounded the corner. it was a teacher, the english teacher to be exact. she was known for being overly strict and just straight up mean.

“hi mrs. lee, how are you?” he chuckled nervously.

she eyed him suspiciously, “han jisung, what are you doing down here? you know you’re not supposed to be here,” 

you were leaning against the door, skateboard in hand and a new scratch on your knee, “c’mon, class pres, say something,” you pleaded in a whisper.

as if jisung heard you, he came back to his sense, “well, mrs. lee, i’m looking for ms. han, but it seems like she’s not here,” jisung tried his best to look genuine, and apparently it worked, for mrs. lee hummed and nodded, before walking over to the war wore, grabbing her jacket. shooting the student one last doubtful look, she left around the same corner she came from. 

jisung tiptoed after her, making sure she walked away. when there was no sight of her, he let out a deep sigh of relief. 

but his relief didn’t last long, before the realization that he just lied to a teacher kicked in, “oh my god,” 

walking out of the teachers lounge with a grin on your face, you went over to the boy looked like he had just seen a ghost.

“you good, dude?”

jisung was bewildered as he looked at you, “i just lied to a teacher,” 

“yeah, and it was a solid one,”

“i just..lied to a teacher,”

you rolled your eyes but smiled, putting your skateboard on the ground, making sure it was stil before putting both your hands on jisung’s shoulders, “it’s okay,” you shook him gently, “you did great — no harm done,”

jisung finally looked at you; though he felt terrible he broke the rules, the smile on your face was enough to lessen the guilt. the perfume you were wearing was intoxicating to him.

“thank you for the help, class pres. you’re pretty cool,” you removed your hands from his shoulder to pick up your skateboard, with a small smirk on your face, “we should hang out sometime. i’ll see you around,” 

astonished, jisung stood still, not saying anything. at least not before you were almost around the corner, “you can just call me jisung, you know,” he called after you.

barely turning around, you said loud enough so he could hear you, “i prefer class pres,” with that you rounded the corner and left jisung alone.

putting a hand over his heart, jisung was breathing heavy, “what the fuck,” he mumbled, before fishing his phone out of his pocket to text seungmin about where he was so he could tell him about what the fuck just happened.

“by the lake behind the school” seungmin responded within two minutes, and jisung was on his way.

“kim seungmin, kim seungmin, kim seungmin, kim seungmin,” jisung repeated to himself, as he approached the younger, who was doing homework at a table, “kim seungmin, kim seungmin, kim seungmin, kim seungmin,”

“shut up, would you,”

ignoring seungmin’s words, jisung threw himself onto his friend, resulting in seungmin making a line across his notes, “jisung!” 

“guess what?” jisung ignored seungmin’s words once again in favor for himself.

“what?” seungmin glared at the other, not that he noticed.

jisung’s eyes were wide and his hands were moving around animatedly as he told seungmin what happened in great detail. when he was done, seungmin’s eyes were as wide as jisung’s

“you what?”

jisung sat up straight, “i know,”

“you what?!”

“i know!” 

“so- wait, you helped (name) get their skateboard back by sneaking into the teachers lounge and then you lied to mrs lee and then (name) said you were cool and that you should hang out,”

jisung thought it over, “yeah, that’s about it,”

“dude!” seungmin was amazed, but he didn’t know wether it was the good kind or the bad kind, “that’s great! — i mean, not the part where you broke into the teachers lounge and lied to mrs. lee — but you talked to (name)!”

“they’re so,” jisung let out a dreamy sigh — seungmin faked a gag.

“you’re so in love, it’s disgusting,”

“you’re so mean, i’m not,” jisung huffed, looking out over the open field, made of grass and asphalt. students were scattered around doing their own thing, including you and your friends, who were laughing and talking, while walking — you skating — across the asphalt to get to the street.

you noticed jisung and waved, to which he turned bright red and waved back.

“gross,” seungmin commented with an eye roll.

“shut up, kim,” 

three.

walking with his hands in his pockets, jisung kicked a few rocks out of his way. the hood of his hoodie was up so his slightly greasy and messy hair wouldn’t been seen; he hadn’t bothered taking a shower before leaving, only giving himself a quick wash in the sink. the black sweatpants he was wearing hadn’t been washed in an embarrassing amount of time and the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath the hoodie was picked up from the floor he hadn’t vacuumed in way too long. but it didn’t matter to him; it wasn’t like he was going somewhere special, just to the movie theater to watch a movie by himself, so he didn’t bother making something out of himself today. 

but he regretted it deeply when he saw a familiar white sweatshirt and colored skateboard. what were you doing here?! and why today when he looked like literal trash?! “what the fuck! fuck no, fuck no, fuck no,” jisung was cursing himself, while trying to hide himself by pulling his hood further down his face. he prayed to whatever gods were up there, you wouldn’t see him, and if you did, he hoped you wouldn’t recognize him. unfortunately his prayers went unheard, as you saw him just before he took the first step into the theater.

“class pres?” 

he visibly cringed, turning around, “hi (name),” he singsonged awkwardly.

you quickly caught up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “class pres,” you grinned, and jisung took notice of how happy you looked, he also took notice of how you held your skateboard. he especially noticed your hands — the veins adorning your them and how long your fingers were (okay, maybe he had a hand kink, like hyunjin once said). 

“what movie are you watching?”

jisung’s eyes snapped to yours, his cheeks reddening. he cleared his throat, “uh oh, just- just one of the reruns,” he hoped he didn’t sound as awkward as he felt.

you hummed, “wanna watch one together?”

if jisung’s face wasn’t red before, it was now. his eyes widened, “uh- s-sure,” 

you smiled and walked into the theater, one hand gripping jisung’s wrist, the other holding your board.

jisung thought he was going to explode at the skin contact. this was the first time you ever touched him. it was the first time he was close enough to touch you actually. he knew you were a touchy person, having seen you doing a lot of skinship with your friends and simple acquaintances. 

he was brought out of his thoughts when he heard you speak to the teenager behind the counter, and was about to protest you paying for both your tickets when you turned to him, handing him his, “i could pay my own ticket, you know,” he mumbled, but you heard him clearly.

“think of this as a thank you for breaking the rules with me,” you smiled, before dragging him with you to the snacks and soda, where jisung paid. you tried to stop him, but quickly found out jisung could be stubborn when he wanted to.

“you didn’t have to pay everything,” 

jisung was almost sure you were pouting, but you were walking behind him so he couldn’t see, “but you paid for my ticket,” he smiled, sitting down on one of the chairs, you next to him.

he was right — you were pouting, and god, you were adorable. he cooed internally and had to refrain himself from pinching your cheek. he settled for a small grin before leaning back into his seat.

the movie wasn’t as good as jisung remembered; the animation was terrible and the voices were weird, and it seemed you thought the same thing, because the second you stepped outside the theater both of you burst into laughter. 

“that was awful,” 

“right!” you grinned, dropping your skateboard on the ground, putting a foot on it, “i don’t remember it being that bad,” 

jisung smiled brightly to you, feeling like he might explode if you looked any better.

“do you wanna hang out?” you licked your lips as you asked. 

jisung froze slightly, your words flowing around his head. you asked him if he wanted to hang out. you asked him. you were so much cooler than he could ever be, why did you want to hang out with him?

“uh, we don’t have to,” you said after not getting an answer, “i'll just see you monday, class pres,”

jisung, you idiot, say something! “wait! no, i- yeah, we can hang out. sorry, i zoned out,” jisung was sure if you smiled any brighter he would go blind.

“great! where do you wanna go?”

you ended up getting streetfood — sharing a small serving of tteokbokki by the mall close to the theater, “i could’ve paid,” jisung pouted when you placed the tteokbokki between the two of you on the bench, sticking his tongue out at you when you did it to him. 

you handed him a pair of wooden chopsticks, grinning, “you should’ve been faster then,” 

after throwing you a non-threatening glare, the two of you ate and talked. the conversation was natural and not awkward at all (despite jisung stumbling over his words constantly).

jisung’s heart was beating fast. the entire situation was surreal for him. he had been crushing on you for ages, and now, here he was, eating street food with you after watching a movie. wasn’t that basically a date? jisung wasn’t sure, but it sure did seem like it. his heart sped up as he looked at you.  you looked so contect, sitting there with him, eating — slightly — overpriced tteokbokki.

the sun was framing you beautifully, highlighting your face. his eyes directed to your lips, just as you stuck your tongue out to lick them, removing some sauce.though he tried to look away, he couldn't help it. he wanted to lean in and kiss you, press his lips against yours in a soft manner. subconsciously, he licked his lips as he stared at yours.

“jisung?” you waved your hand in front of his face, with a cheeky smile, “is anyone there?” 

“huh? yeah- yeah! me- i’m here,” he stumbled over his words. his face heated up. why was he like this?! he hid his face in his hands when you giggled, face heating up.

“you’re adorable,” 

jisung’s face to even hotter at your words, and he let out a whine, “shut up. you’re making me all,” he made a strangled noise, making you laugh — jisung could physically feel himself fall more in love with you at the sound. your laugh was lovely.

you were lovely.

his breath hitched when you cooed at his cuteness; this was too much for his fragile heart to handle, “stop it,” he whined. his whining didn’t do anything other than make you tease him even more.

when you had leaned back again after getting done teasing him, you ate the last few pieces of tteokbokki, while jisung checked his phone, “it’s getting late,” 

using your sleeve to remove some sauce, you asked, “what time is it?” 

“almost eight,” 

“shit,” you muttered, getting up from the bench, “i have to get home. i’ll see you tomorrow, class pres,” 

“why do you always call me class pres? you can just call me by my name...please,” 

you smiled softly, rolling your eyes, “okay, han jisung. i’ll see you tomorrow,” 

jisung watched you skate away with a pounding heart; you called him han! he let out a dreamy sigh, leaning back on the bench, hands over his face. he was happy, oh so happy — you had hung out! he, han jisung, hung out with you, his crush since forever! and if he had been reading the signs correctly, you liked being out with him. pride filled his chest; he had made you laugh a lot, and the sound was music to his ears.

“jisung!” 

a deep familiar voice ripped jisung from his thoughts, “felix?”

felix sat down right next to jisung (almost on him, but jisung didn’t say anything), “what are you doing here? i thought you said you were going to the movies,” 

jisung smiled at how cute his friend was — felix’s doe eyes on full display for him, “i did,”

“then why are you here?”

“i met (name),” jisung in took a sharp breath, as a bright smile grew on the youngers face, “we saw a movie together and went here afterwards,” 

“that’s great, sung!” 

“felix!” hyunjin called out when he finally saw his friend, “don’t run from me,” he huffed, sitting down beside to felix, “hey sung,” 

jisung smiled at the taller, “hi,”

“jisung was with (name)!” felix told hyunjin excitedly, eyes sparkling.

“(name)? (name) (full name) (name)?” 

jisung’s face got hot for the nth time that day, “yes,” 

“dude! that’s great!” 

“yeah,” jisung muttered, warmth filling his chest. it was great, really great.

four. 

from (name) <3: come outside

from (name) <3: n wear long pants

from (name) <3: or don't,,  that's up to you but we're gonna skate so u probably should

jisung rubbed his eyes with the ball his hands, before reading the texts again — you wanted to hang out with him again? after the fiasco that was your last time spending time together?

you had went home with a shirt drenched in coke because jisung dropped the bottle and then opened it right after, already forgotten he dropped it. he cringed at the memory.

panic was filled him. what should he do?! a light bulb went off over his head — kim seungmin. jisung’s fingers quickly tapped through his phone and found seungmin’s number, calling him. he bit his lower lip as he waiting impatiently for seungmin to pick up.

“what do you want?”seungmin sounded nothing less of annoyed as he answered his phone, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the sleep.

“(name) wants to hang out!”

“okay? and? what’s the problem?” 

“what’s the pr- dude! i can’t!” 

“then don’t,” seungmin was tired.

“no, i want to,”

“then do it,” 

jisung groaned, “you’re not much help, you know,” 

“don’t care, break a leg,” seungmin hung up the phone right after, leaving jisung moping. jisung moves the phone from his ear and looked at it in shock. 

from (name) <3: hurry!!!!!!

shaking seungmin’s hang up off him, jisung hurriedly threw on clothes — hopefully they were clean — and ran to the bathroom to make himself look presentable. water ended up all over the counter when jisung wet his face, “sorry mom,” he muttered, cringing at all the water, before making a run for it to the front door, shouting a quick “bye” to anyone in the house.

the bright midday summer sun made everything bright, making jisung temporarily blind. when he could see again, he saw you resting on the sidewalk across from his home, rolling your skateboard with your shoe covered feet, eyes closed whilst you enjoyed the warmth of the sun. to jisung, the sight was ethereal — you were practically glowing.

“(name),” he called out when the sound of a bird tore him away from his thoughts.

“han! you came,” you smiled, standing up and did the few meters of skating to get to him.

“of course i came, you told me to,” he blushed, taking a step back at the closeness.

“oh?” you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile finding its way onto your face, “you like being told what to do?” 

is jisung was red before, he was sure was now; his face looking something like a brand new fire hydrant, “i-i don-don’t- what? no- no! i-“ 

“i’m kidding, han,” you grinned, watching him stammer — he was so cute, “let’s go,” 

“uh, where are we going?” 

grabbing his hand, you pulled him with you, your skateboard in hand, i’m gonna teach you how to skate,” 

“what?- no, my- my balance is terrible,” 

“i know; i’ve seen you trip over nothing multiple times,” 

“you have?” jisung’s heart skipped a beat — you noticed him.

“of course i have, you’re quite popular, you know,” 

“am i?” this was news to jisung. 

“what do you mean “am i”!?” you stopped abruptly, making jisung bump into you, “you don’t know?” 

“know what?” you were staring at him in awe, and jisung flustered to no end.

“you’re one of the most popular guys in our grade,” 

a strangled noise came from the back of jisung’s throat in surprise and confusion. the sound made you laugh — oh, that heavenly sound jisung had become addicted to i just a few weeks.

“we’re here!” 

jisung scanned the area; it was mostly empty, except from a few kids playing on the smaller ramps. this was good, it would save jisung from the embarrassment he was about to experience.

“it’s not that difficult,” you laughed, smile widening when jisung’s grip on your hands tightened, so he wouldn’t fall off, “relax your knees. you’re shaking,”

“stop making fun of me,” jisung said loudly, pouting while trying to balance on your skateboard. you were right, he was shaking. the muscles in his legs were 

“i’m not!”

“you are!” he whined. this was a lot harder than you made it look like, and the fact that you were holding hands didn’t help in the slightest. jisung yelped loudly when the board disappeared from under him, landing flat on his butt. 

“oh,” you gasped chuckling, walking over to help him up, “i told you to relax your knees,” 

jisung grumbled, taking your hand and pulled himself up from the ground, “shut up, it hurt,” he rubbed the spot with a groan.

“sorry,” you said, still giggling, are you okay?”

while nodding, jisung couldn’t help but smile; you were so cute. he got onto the board when you asked if he wanted to try again, this time with relaxed knees. it went better, though he still didn’t dare to stand on his own, too afraid he would fall again. 

after a few tries, he let go of your hands and stood on his own, arms out to each side, “i’m doing it!” he cheered, as your skateboard rolled on the concrete.

you laughed at his enthusiasm, “you are!” 

jisung’s smile grew wider, while he slowly lowered his arms. he quickly found out that was a mistake, for before he knew it, the board disappeared under him and he landed on the ground, this time on his arm — he’s pretty sure he heard a crack.

the door opened, making you stand up. jisung walked out first, his mom following him closely. his arm was in a white cast; you winced. that was your fault, partly.

jisung’s mom ruffled his hair, said something to him, and gave you a smile when she walked out the front door to the hospital. he gave you a tight smile, while you approached him.

“you okay?” 

“i mean,” he held up his casted arm with a small smile, “but yeah, i’m okay, it’s just my arm,”

“i’m sorry,” you apologized.

jisung furrowed his eyebrows, “for what?” 

“i shouldn’t have let go of you,” 

jisung could see how bad you felt — it made him sad, “i let go of you first, and besides,” he lifted his arm again, “i think it looks pretty cool,” a warm feeling spread in his chest when you smiled relieved. 

“it does,” your eyes danced over his casted arm, “can i write something on it?” 

“sure! wanna get out of here first, though?” 

you nodded and left the building, jisung holding his casted arm. 

a noise left you in distress when jisung tried to take a look at what you were writing, “don’t look!” you gripped the ink pencil harder.

jisung whined, “i wanna know what you’re writing,” 

“and you will, when i’m done,” you huffed.

jisung sighed loudly and over dramatically, “fine,” 

silence filled the air at the brick bridge you were sitting on, legs dangling over the water. a gentle breeze brushing up under yours and jisung’s clothes, giving both of you goosebumps. jisung’s eyes followed the running water as it ran under the bridge, while you were bend over, writing on jisung’s arm.

you leaned back up, “done!” 

“i swear if you drew a dick-“

“i didn't,” you laughed, making him do the same. before his eyes could reach his cast, you covered it with your hand, “don’t read it yet,” 

“why not?” jisung blinked.

“i don’t want to be here when you do,” 

“why not?” 

you raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging on your lips, “do you always repeat yourself?” 

“not always,” 

chuckling, you swung your legs over the bridge and jumped down, landing firmly on the pavement, “i’ll see you later, jisung,” you got onto your skateboard and rolled away in a slow speed, saluting to jisung when he call out a “get home safe” after you.

jisung did as you said and didn’t look until you were out of his sight. his own fingers were covering it, preventing him from getting an accidental peek at what you wrote. after you were out of his line of sight, he waited another five minutes, before removing his fingers. 

“i like you a whole lot — we should date” with a heart beside it.

jisung’s breath hitched as his heart began pounding. he read the words you wrote over and over again, engraving them in his mind. 

“i like you a whole lot — we should date” 

“i like you a whole lot — we should date” 

“i like you a whole lot — we should date” 

he whispered the words to himself, tasting them. you liked him a whole lot and said you should date. the fear that this was a dream hit him, and he pinched the skin on his bicep with his uninjured hand, “ow,” 

that hurt; this was not a dream. this was real life. holy shit. you wanted to date him! what the fuck?! you wanted to date him? jisung was a mess, a flustered mess as he sat alone on the brick bridge in the edge of town, legs hanging still over the water, a swarm of butterflies in his stomach.

five. 

“just ask,” 

“i can’t just ask,”

“yes, you can,” seungmin rolled his eyes and flicked jisung on the forehead, making said boy rub the spot and pout, “what’d you do that for?”

“you’re thinking too much,”

“am not,” the older mumbled, still rubbing the spot, soothing his pain.

“jisung, just ask,” 

“what do i even say?! “hey, (name), i like you a lot, can i be your boyfriend?””

“yes,” seungmin said with a deadpan expression.

jisung blinked, “i can’t say that!” he whined, “that’s stupid,” 

“you’re stupid,” 

jisung’s gaze fell down to his casted arm. (“dude, when i said break a leg this isn’t what i meant,” seungmin had stressed after finding out about jisung’s broken arm.)

it had been three weeks since he broke it arm and had gotten it casted. it had also been three weeks since you told — wrote — jisung you liked him. it had been three weeks since jisung had talked to you. he didn’t mean to ignore you! actually, he had been wanting to talk to you during the time, but he had no idea what he would say, so he ended up not speaking with you at all. you probably thought he didn’t like you back and ignored you because he hated you or something. the thought of you being sad made him feel terrible, especially since it would be his fault.

jisung took in a sharp breath and walked into the classroom, seungmin behind him, rolling his eyes at how nervous jisung was. jisung had literally nothing to be nervous about — you had already confessed; jisung knew you liked him, why on earth was he still nervous? it made no sense in seungmin’s mind. if jisung just got it together and asked you out his problem would be solved.

seungmin dumped his backpack down onto the floor, as he sat in his seat. from where he was sat he had a clear view of both you and jisung, both of you looked sad, you more than him. seungmin shook his head; this was stupid, so utterly stupid. 

class went by, but jisung weren’t paying attention in the slightest, his mind was filled with you — you and your sparkling eyes and pretty smile. he had sighed more than he could count during the lesson, attracting attention from almost everybody in the room, you included. when the bell rang, jisung didn’t move until seungmin came up behind him and nudged him on the shoulder.

“do it now,” seungmin vaguely pointed his head in your direction.

jisung bit his lip, “now?” he mumbled, looking at you while you were packing up your things. he sighed for the nth time when seungmin nodded sternly. he walked with slow steps, shoes never leaving the ground fully. when he stood in front of you he ran a hand through his hair, “(name), can i talk to you?”

yeji glared at him before you could do anything. you were sure she was going to throw hands if you didn’t stop her. putting a hand on her arm, you pulled her back, scolding her lightly, before turning to the male in front of you, “i guess,”

jisung licked his lips, feeling himself shrink under yeji’s glare, “alone, please,”

nodding, you nudged yeji on the arm, saying you’ll meet her in the cafeteria. she hesitated, but left with seungmin and the rest of the class. when all were gone, you spoke, “so...what do you wanna talk about?”

“i-” he in took a deep breath, “i’m sorry for ignoring you...especially after what you wrote,” subconsciously he put his hand over his cast, “i didn’t mean to, i just..i panicked,”

your face fell, a lump forming in your throat, “it’s fine if you don’t like me back, i would just prefer you didn’t ignore me,”

“i do like you,” the words fell from his lips before he could stop them. his face flushed red as what he said registered in his mind, “i do like you,” he repeated in a smaller voice, “that’s why i panicked. it’s- i’ve liked you for so long, and then you confess that you like me, and it was just a lot to take in,”

a smile  grew on your face as he talked — rambled. he was so cute.

“and i’m sorry for ignoring you, really i am, and if you don’t mind i would like you take you on a date,” jisung looked at you for the first time since he started talking, and to say he was surprised by the smile you had on your pretty face, would be an understatement.

you stepped closer to him, not missing the way his breath hitched, “i would love to go on a date with you, han jisung,”you grinned, cupping his face, before connecting your lips, just as jisung’s mind went blank.

your lips felt like heaven, this was heaven, jisung concluded as his lips were pressed against yours, like he had imagined many times, only this was a million times better. jisung was sure he could spend forever and longer kissing you. warmth filled him as his lips moved with yours. when you pulled away jisung was in a daze, mind fill only with you, you, you.

you brushed some hair out of his face, leaving a last peak on his lips, “i’ll see you later, angel,” you smiled to him, slowly letting your fingers drift from his, before walking to your friends with a hot face.

jisung stood frozen in the same spot long after you left, only moving when seungmin and felix came into the room. 

“did you do it?” felix asked eagerly, almost jumping in place.

jisung didn’t — couldn’t — respond, still caught up in the feeling of your lips on his.

seungmin snorted, “i think he did, and more,”

“they kissed me,” jisung muttered, his heart warming, “we kissed. i kissed (name),”

“nice done, sung,” seungmin complimented, smiling warmly as a grin broke out on jisung’s face.

jisung’s face flushed once again when he remembered what you called him, “they called me angel,” 

as the class president, jisung should care about the skateboard you always had with you, and placed under your desk during class. but he didn’t. in fact, you could probably throw all the desks and chairs out of the windows, and he wouldn’t find any problem in it, especially not now, not when he’s your boyfriend and you call him angel.

[sytco]

common blessings [joochan]

pairing: childhood friend!hong joochan x reader

word count: 3.5k (!)

requested: "toothrotting fluff ft. joochan"

dedicated to @sahiflowers.

a/n: im SO SO sorry this took so long and i hope u like it even a little and that it makes u smile thank u for being so patient ily!! ily!!! reminder im always here for u!!

In which you find that time is meaningless when Joochan is not by your side.

~

wonderboy.

-

Sometimes, you speculate whether Joochan has some kind of genius for finding you as soon as the school bell rings, signalling the end of another day.

Today, he surprises you behind the auditorium where you lean against a maple tree, hugging your bag to your chest, because you’ve skipped your last period (Introduction to Psychology) in favor of lying on the grass so you can watch the clouds in peace. And Joochan smiles a fond, fond smile because you have that look on your face again that you only get when you’re lost in thought.

“Missed me?”

You tense from shock before relaxing at the sight of your boyfriend who widens his arms so you can walk right into them.

“How’d you find me?” Your voice is muffled in the fabric of his vest and Joochan reaches up so he can play with the back of your collar.

“Just had a little hunch you might be here.” And this is the answer he always gives, accompanied with the same smug smile each time.

You pout even if Joochan can’t see it. “That doesn’t explain anything.”

“Well now,” he says in an affected voice that sounds like the narrator from that National Geographic documentary on penguins the two of you watched last week, “I can’t afford to have you getting your hands on all my secrets, can I? I’ve got to keep some things to myself so that in ten year's time, you’ll still think I’m the most amazing and magical boy in the universe.”

It’s ridiculous, you think, how it’s nearly winter but the way you can feel the laughter that starts in his chest and electrifies you to your fingertips is more than capable of keeping you warm and making you feel like you’re really alive.

“Doesn’t matter if I find out all your secrets or not,” you mumble, “you’ll always be the most amazing and magical boy in the universe to me.”

From the courtyard around the corner, you can hear Jaehyun shouting a loud “Oi Joochan!”.

Joochan ignores him and instead casually pecks your cheek with a kiss that feels like a blessing. “Always?”

You tilt your head as though unsure. "Well… for at least fifty years, probably.”

“Fifty?!” Joochan echoes in mock outrage, and you playfully poke his side to which he flinches slightly.

“I was lying. I meant for all of time ever.”

And despite him doing his best to hide it, your boyfriend melts instantly, burying his face in the crook of your neck where he’s probably smiling his brilliant smile that feels like the sun against your skin.

Jaehyun’s voice interrupts the peace and quiet once again with a noticeably louder and more panicked tone.

“Hong Joochan! We’re going to be late for soccer practice!”

Joochan groans exaggeratedly and you can’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “Wish I didn’t have to go to stupid practice,” he grumbles.

“You know, I’ll wait for you in the library until you’re done,” you offer and Joochan perks up - if only slightly because your arms still feel like heaven after years of loving you, and two hours of kicking a ball around (while Donghyun and Jibeom brainstorm inventive ways to trip each other up, much to Coach Lee’s chagrin) just can’t compete. He tells you as much in the way his arms tighten around you.

“You’re the best,” Joochan declares suddenly, “I might be the most amazing and magical boy in the universe, but you’re the best.”

You snort. “Go to practice already before Jaehyun starts going spare, wonderboy.”

Joochan kisses your forehead one last time before he detaches himself from you with a dejected sigh and picks up your bag, slinging it over his shoulder despite your protests. “Walk with me to the oval?”

You slip your hand into his hand only to find it a perfect fit and wonder briefly if there is anywhere in this world you would not walk to with Hong Joochan, the boy who has a smile like sunlight and a personality like a billion shooting stars.

“Of course.”

*

fm.

-

There is the occasional moment in which you wish that your boyfriend wasn’t so exceedingly talented in nearly every field he tries his hand at, because the various extracurriculars that Joochan (being the naturally energetic and enthusiastic person he is) involves himself with have an awful way of making tremendous demands on his time towards the end of the semester.

Right now is one of those moments when Joochan trudges into your room and dives face first onto your bed without even bothering to shake his coat off. “So what was it today?” you ask in a voice that betrays your concern and Joochan can’t help but smile at it.

“Theatre rehearsal,” he yawns, “then string quartet practice. Also an hour of soccer drills with some of the boys. Even though it’s a Saturday.”

You get up from your chair at the desk so you can sit on the bed where Joochan immediately moves his head onto your lap, lifting your hand and resting it on his hair. You absentmindedly start stroking it, staring out the window at a soft grey sky.

“Did you eat?”

Joochan shakes his head. “No time. My dumb E string broke again so I barely managed to have half an apple before we went straight into a new Mozart piece today. Think we might perform it at the next concert. You’d come, right?” And he asks that in a self-assured tone, because he already knows what your answer is going to be.

You give it to him anyway because there’s no point in hiding your blatant admiration for all that he does. “No matter what.”

“And just to see me, right?”

You fake a pause that has Joochan peering up at you suspiciously.

“You do know I have friends who aren’t you that are participating in the concert, right? Like Jangjun and Sungyoon?”

Joochan scowls. “But none of those hooligans are your boyfriend, who - in case you forgot but I do know you’d never - is me.”

“That’s quite true,” you concede before leaning down to kiss his cheek with a smile that makes Joochan’s stomach fill with butterflies which are probably colored pink and green and blue. It never gets old, he thinks: your talent for turning his world upside down in a look or a word or an action. And you don’t even know you’re doing it most of the time.

“Mean,” he accuses but in a half-hearted manner and your smile only widens because you know that Joochan is supremely happy despite his exhaustion, if the way his brow has smoothed completely and he has started drawing little stars on your knee is anything to go by.

There’s a gentle lull in the conversation while you continue to run your fingers through Joochan’s hair, and especially his fringe. It’s almost as though time has passed you by, leaving you together in your own little reality where things like hazy futures and big concerts and broken violin strings do not dare draw near.

“Wanna order something later on for dinner?” you ask quietly.

“Maybe,” he grins through closed eyes, “but nap first.”

Your radio continues to run, and you drift in and out of listening to the DJ duo while watching the rain finally fall outside.

“It’s been pretty cold recently, hasn’t it?” one of the DJs opens the conversation after a small stream of ads.

“Sure has, pal. And speaking of the cold, apparently our first snow of the season is scheduled for next week Friday!”

“So do you have any plans lined up with a special someone?”

“Just had to remind me of how single I am, didn’t you”- rambunctious peals of laughter crackle from the speakers - “but maybe some of our lovely listeners will send in their plans for next Friday.”

“I sure did - and wow, they’re already pouring in! Do you wanna read one out?”

“Let’s see… Listener ha_miii_ran says: ‘I’m planning on confessing to my crush of two years. I’m pretty nervous about this so I’m hoping the two of you will wish me luck!’ All the best of luck to you, Ha Miran-nim, from the both of us. I don’t know how you’re planning on it, but hopefully the first snow will act as a good luck charm for you!”

“Yeah, good luck Ha Miran-nim!” the other DJ chimes in. “Be sure to update us on how it goes!”

“Well, we’ll be back with some more stories after this excerpt from a famous piano concerto - maybe some of our more classically-inclined audience will recognise its globally renowned composer.”

A beautiful melody begins to play and you’re on the cusp of losing yourself in the music when you are most abruptly interrupted by a sleepy, but decisive, “Gershwin.”

You blink down at Joochan. “What?”

“It’s Gershwin. The composer. Don't you think your boyfriend's clever for knowing that?"

“I thought my boyfriend was asleep, actually,” and you narrow your eyes.

“I was,” Joochan protests, “I only woke up when they were talking about the snow or something. And then they talked about that person who’s confessing to their crush of two years - got me thinking about how I can relate because I vividly remember having a crush on you for at least three before I could muster up the courage to confess. Which ended up working out for the best, you know,” he adds in a thoughtful tone, “but sometimes I’d get so nervous just thinking about it that I couldn’t sleep at all. Anyways, I’m really hungry now, so can we order something soon please?”

Maybe it’s the way he so nonchalantly wears his heart for you on his sleeve, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you as though you have strung the Milky Way itself together and made a gift of it to him. Maybe it’s the way you simply realize that you might not be able to live with yourself if you were to lose your boyfriend, ever. But for whatever reason it is, a thousand smiles bloom in your heart and you lean down to give Joochan a kiss that hopefully tastes like everything you cannot possibly put into words.

“Anything you want,” you whisper, and Joochan draws a heart on your knee in response.

*

enchanted.

-

You’re outside the auditorium again but in front of it, this time, and not behind. The post-concert hubbub has died down, mostly owing to the fact that much of the audience has left already whether it’s to a late congratulatory supper or down to the boardwalk where fireworks are scheduled to go off at midnight. The bouquet of lily of the valleys in your hand trembles slightly as you use your other hand to fumble around for your ringing phone.

“Hello?”

“You’re waiting outside, right?” Joochan asks.

“Yeah, I am.”

“See, Donghyun, I told you I was right about - wait. Wait! Don't move!”

And then you have less than two seconds to process exactly what is happening before your boyfriend catches you up in a running embrace that sends the world spinning in a flurry of snow and stars and kisses that Joochan plants all over your cheeks. He remains blissfully unaware that somewhere in the vicinity, Donghyun has started making gagging sounds at your very public display of affection, punctuated by Jaehyun’s giggling. (You pay them no mind.)

“Did you enjoy the concert?” he asks, fond expectation twinkling in his eyes.

You nod too much. “You were incredible,” you tell him honestly, and Joochan beams.

“I was, wasn’t I?” he says in a satisfied voice as he pulls you closer. “Guess all those hours of practice paid off.”

“It’s almost like that’s the whole point of practicing,” you tease.

“It’s lucky you’re cute and I’m hopelessly in love with you,” Joochan crinkles his nose in contrived distaste for your little jab before hugging you again so he can hear you whisper just how proud you are of him, right into his ear.

And the two of you stay like that for a little before you remember the gift you brought with you.

“For me?” And the look in his eyes reminds you of how he looked at you when you first told him that you loved him too - or maybe of every time you’ve told him that you love him too.

“Who else?”

He snaps up the bouquet, pressing it against his nose and inhaling deeply with a smile. "This is a nice surprise."

"They mean 'return to happiness'," you say, gently touching a little white bloom that looks like a star against the backdrop of Joochan's black school blazer. "Thought it was cute. And the florist was sold out of roses anyway."

Joochan laughs with the warmth of a thousand sunbeams and puts your hand in his so he can start gently tugging you away.

“But your violin”- you begin protesting.

“But nothing,” he shushes you as the school gets smaller and smaller behind you in the distance. “I don’t even want to see that thing for a week. Hey, and guess what - I found a secret place for just you and me so we can watch the fireworks without being pressed up against everyone else like sardines in a tin can.”

“You and I are going to watch the fireworks?” you echo, surprise colouring your voice.

Joochan’s exhale turns into a giggle. “Who else?” And you dig an elbow into his side, hiding a smile at his antics.

The two of you stroll down quiet streets and you lean into your boyfriend’s comforting warmth. Most shops are closed with the exception of some fast food chains and convenience stores, but you notice almost none of them now as Joochan picks up the pace, his excitement bleeding into the quiet song he sings that floats up in the air and is lost somewhere in the stars above.

“Here we are,” says Joochan proudly and he helps you up into the little gazebo at the top of the hill you hadn’t realized you were climbing. “Take this,” he adds as he tosses you a torch that brightly illuminates the space you’re in as soon as you switch it on. You turn to the rustling sounds on your left, finally seeing the wooden bench that Joochan is busy spreading a rug over.

“You planned this beforehand?” And there’s a note of wonder in your voice - the same kind that only Joochan ever seems to be able to evoke. “I thought we were going straight home.”

He gestures for you to sit next to him with a charming smile and you do so immediately. “Told you I can’t give up all the secrecy. Not yet.” Or, he thinks privately to himself, not when you look at him like that.

The golden light from the torch casts long shadows over the grass and gives Joochan’s face a nearly ethereal glow that reminds you of summer sunsets despite the cold. You slip into a soft and easy silence - one that comes from memories built upon memories, resulting in a code made up of gazes and touch that only the two of you will ever understand. And so when he squeezes your hand gently, you instantly open your arms for him to sink right into.

There’s only a few minutes left until midnight when you finally speak.

“Joochan,” you murmur.

“Mm?”

“You ever think about where we’ll be this time next year?”

Joochan shifts his posture slightly. “Often, actually. Especially when I go to sleep at night and think about tomorrow - then I’ll wonder if it’ll even remotely go the way I want it to.”

“And how do you usually want it to go?” you ask.

“Someone has a lot of questions today,” Joochan remarks with a droll look on his face that makes you laugh briefly before his expression sobers. “But usually I want it to go safely. You know? Everything in its proper place and things like that. And more importantly, I want to know all the time that I’ll be able to see you.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking out over the view of the city. If you squint, you can just make out the boardwalk by the beach and the crowds of people who have gathered there, young and old alike. “I’m scared sometimes.”

Joochan frowns. “Scared of what? I’ll fight it off for you,” and he waves a threatening fist at nothing in particular.

“The future, I guess. It sounds silly but… sometimes I don’t know if we’ll always be okay. Like this, the way things are right now. Whether it’s tomorrow or next year or even after that.” Your voice fades in volume until it’s nearly lost against the threads of your scarf, and Joochan’s heart breaks a little when he hears it: the genuine uncertainty and timid fear that seeps past the smile you give him in an effort to hide it.

“Why do you think we might not be okay?”

You look down at your feet, almost embarrassed by your own honesty. “Well, people… change, Joo. They move places, and have goals to achieve and dreams to chase down. And we’re not immune to that either.”

It’s Joochan’s turn to be silent for a bit as he mulls over your words before he straightens in your hold, turning his face towards you so he can affectionately bump his nose against yours. “You’re right,” he says in a voice that mirrors your sadness, “and it would be a lie to say I don’t think about the same things you do. But”- and he leans in to give you a quick kiss that’s shaped like a smile - “it’d also be a lie to say that every dream doesn’t feature you in it. Because every dream of mine that I’ve ever had places you centre stage.”

He kisses you again, a little longer - a little more wistfully.

“You see, the real problem here is that you have me perpetually thinking that I can’t do any of this without you,” he says simply. “Whether it’s late night phone calls or early morning messages; or maybe we’ll find ourselves having to book flights for each other, holding bags full of gifts that remind us of us. And maybe it’ll be hard and maybe I’ll wake up some days, knowing I won’t be able to see you. But that doesn’t mean we won’t be okay.”

You swallow and Joochan watches you carefully, the urgency in his eyes prompting him to lift your chin so you can see it too.

“Even if we change,” he continues in a whisper, hoping you will understand the heart in his words. “And we should. And we will, and we’ll still be okay. You believe me, don’t you? Seeing as I’m the most amazing and magical boy in the universe?”

Somewhere, midnight comes and goes and the fireworks start, dousing you and Joochan in bursts of coloured light.

“Of course I do,” you smile with eyes that glitter with tears of relief and he pulls you into a tight hug, so tight you can feel every movement of his rib cage as he breathes in and out.

For once, you do not feel that fear deep down that threatens to taint your time with the only boy you think you cannot live without. And so you unreservedly hold him in return, fingers running through his hair as he tells you that he loves you, over and over again.

*

up, up and away.

-

There had been a time during your childhood when your one greatest wish had been to go see the stars.

So your friend Joochan, in all his clumsy sincerity, had done his best to make you a rocket out of a box he’d found at home. He’d then brought it to your house after he’d finished it, blue marker staining his fingertips and glitter shaped like stars lost in his thick fringe.

The two of you had sat in it together and looked up at the moon, holding hands from childish innocence and recounting thrilling tales of adventures you’d never had. And before having to go home to bed that day, he’d made you a promise that present-day Joochan complains about not being able to fulfill.

“I know I said I’d take you to the stars,” Joochan sighs in displeasure from where he lies on your bed, right next to you, “but while your boyfriend is exceptionally talented, you do know I’m no astronaut, right?”

You hold his hand in response and look into his eyes that sparkle with mirth and deeper in, shine with a love that always gives you peace.

It may be that Joochan will never be able to keep his promise of taking you to space in a real, functioning rocket. But, as you drop a kiss on his mouth that soon widens into a brilliant smile, you can’t find it in yourself to really care.

After all, it’s hard to miss the stars when for you, they all start with Joochan and end with him.

-

if u liked this please consider dropping a like and reblogging with ur thoughts because feedback is!! always appreciated thank you!!!

[elencelebrindal]

Saw the passive abilities question, so now we have to ask: what passives would all the golds have?

I am SO sorry this took me so long to answer, but here I go!

Of course, I went the "creature the zodiac sign is linked to" way.

Aries:

You know how rams headbutt each other to assert dominance? The Aries Saint has the ability to headbutt people without gaining brain damage as a result. Well, jokes aside, rams can charge at incredible speed before attacking and have considerable endurance, so maybe the latter is what I can give the Aries Saint as an innate ability? Fights between rams can last for hours, so I bet the Aries Saint can keep fighting for much longer than a Saint normally can.

Taurus:

Rather than an ability, I would say the Taurus Saint has a tendency of being red-green colorblind, as bulls generally have dichromacy. In addition to that, I'd say the Taurus Saint is always the strongest, at least on a physical level, because bulls have incredible strength.

Gemini:

Well, I don't know? The gemini zodiac sign literally represents twins, so... I have no idea what kind of ability I could give the Gemini Saint, aside from an innate capability of bickering with their twin.

...

Okay, I'm done joking. Gemini represents Castor and Pollux, the Dioscuri, who are known for being excellent hunters and horsemen. With this in mind, I'd say the innate ability of the Gemini Saint is exactly that: riding and hunting. And this Saint can hunt anything.

Cancer:

... I thought I had no idea of what do write here, because, well, the constellation is literally just the crab that bit Hercules while he was fighting the Hydra. There's nothing associated with it, save for this fact, and that it was placed among the stars by Hera. But then I remembered that I'm supposed to take into account the animal itself as well, and crabs? They can themselves so well you can't notice them even if you walk right past their hiding spot. So this is what the Cancer Saint's ability. Hiding. Which, if you ask me, is an extremely useful ability, no matter how proud the Gold Saints are.

Leo:

I wanted to say "the Leo Saint has the ability to run after a laser pointer" so bad, but then I remembered that one video I watched of lions being completely uncaring of laser pointers so... guess the joke died before existing. Anyway, the Leo Saint is probably known for ability to deliver short but powerful attacks, just like real lions. They don't have much in terms of stamina - remember, we're still in the superhuman category here - but they are powerful by default. Also, using the Nemean lion to my advantage, I'll say the Leo Saint can't be wounded easily. Just for a silly comparison: if another Saint lands face-first into the ground, there's going to be blood right away; is a Leo Saint lands face-first into the ground, there's still going to be blood right away, but only because Leo would kick in the teeth whoever slammed him on the floor. Basically, it takes effort to draw blood from a Leo Saint.

Also, a Leo Saint that's also a woman has a more refined hunting instinct, because I watched way too many documentaries in my life and I know that a lioness does 99% of the hunting work and it's better at it.

Virgo:

Does the ability of never getting laid count?

This one is tricky, because Virgo represents Astrea, the celestial virgin and goddess of innocence, purity, and precision. Since these don't really qualify as abilities, I looked into her mythology and remembered that she's closely associated with Earth. Because of this, I believe the Virgo Saint's ability is to communicate on a deep, spiritual level with the essence of Earth and its creatures. Which is not too far from what's actually depicted in canon, after all.

Libra:

The Libra Saint can always find the perfect balance. Doesn't matter if it's physical or metaphorical, Thanos would die of envy for how perfectly balanced everything is for this Saint. Aside from this, which is more of a practical ability, the Libra Saint has also the amazing capability of being always able to find loopholes in laws (Libra represents justice and law, so... yeah), and can always know if someone is innocent or guilty.

Scorpio:

Oh, here I go, let me butcher my sign completely. My first thought was that the Scorpio Saint is actually venomous (god, I hope I used the right word, we only have ONE in Italian for poisonous and venomous). Not like a certain Pisces Saint we know and love, of course. Just like with Taurus, it's a characteristic and not a passive ability, but I do have something else as well.

And that something else is an ability to survive even in the worst, most dire conditions. Scorpions, unless you straight up crush them under your foot, are extremely difficult to kill. They have a tremendous immune system, they literally don't drown, they can slow down their metabolism when there's no food around, you can freeze them completely and they'll just walk away once thawed, and they can live in harsh climates with no issues. In light of this, the Scorpio Saint is extremely difficult to kill, and can resist most life-threatening conditions with ease. I'd say is a good passive ability to have, for sure.

Sagittarius:

It goes by itself that the Sagittarius Saint has the innate ability to be absolutely amazing with bow and arrow, but another passive ability they have is horse riding. Lastly, since the constellation actually represents Chiron, the Sagittarius Saint is an excellent mentor and teacher, better than anyone else.

Capricorn:

Goats can climb near vertical surfaces, and so can the saint of this constellation. It's a really useful ability, especially when it comes to stealthy missions and the like. Alongside this, the Capricorn Saint is probably a really good swimmer, since the constellation is half goat and half fish, although not as good as the Pisces Saint.

Aquarius:

Oh, here we have some troubles. The Aquarius constellation represents Ganymede, Zeus' freaking cup-bearer. He's a hero, yes, but he's known for having enchanted Zeus enough to gain a place in the Olympus as an immortal. What does this leave me with? A Saint that has the air association of the sign, the water association of the constellation, and the fascinating beauty of the myth.

Let's just say that the Aquarius Saint has the perfect mastery over ice (which is canon) because air and water? Come on, it's the only thing I cant think about. That's the passive ability, an insane control over water and air that translate in mastery of all ice things. Plus the ability to enchant even the gods, because the Pisces Saint is not the only enticing person of the Sanctuary.

Pisces:

I'd say the passive ability of the Pisces Saint is swimming like a mermaid, aka quickly, efficiently, and without needing as much rest as a normal human. Some powerful Saints can also find themselves able to breathe underwater, but it's a rather rare ability that doesn't show up often, and not many are willing to try breathing underwater just to make sure.

And that's it, since the other somewhat passive ability I love to give every single Pisces Saint (and not only the canon ones) is venomous blood and plant toxins immunity.

I don't know if I nailed or failed this answer. I'm mostly going off of stuff I know out of the top of my head, because I'm a sucker for nature documentaries and documentaries in general, so there might be some stupid things sprinkled here and there.

Doesn't matter.

Once again, sorry for taking so long, and thank you for the interesting ask!

[camels-pen]

A Half-Ghost in its Natural Habitat

DannyMay Day 15 - Nature

Summary: After becoming the laughing stock of the school thanks to the so-called ‘hero’ of Amity Park, Wes decides a little payback is in order.

Ao3 Link

~

Wes knew Fenton was Phantom.

He tried to be civil about it, tried to talk to the guy like a rational, mature human being.

But this? This means war.

---

“Whaaaat? Pfff,”—Danny pulled at his collar—“Me? Phantom? That’s ridiculous!”

“You look exactly the same except for your eye and hair colour.” Wes held out his hands and began counting off on his fingers. “Your name’s a stupid pun. You slip up and call the Fentons ‘mom’ and ‘dad’. You hang out with Foley and Manson who literally have no other friends.” Two indignant “Hey!”s cut him off and he sighed.

“Look, I’m not asking for you to reveal yourself to everyone and risk getting shot at by your wacko parents 24/7. I just wanna know I’m not crazy about this.”

Danny slapped his back. “Wow you’re such a kidder! Seriously where do you come up with this stuff?”

“I literally saw you transform in the bathroom, like, ten seconds ago.” The boy’s nervous grin twitched.

“HA! That’s so funny, dude!” He forced out a few laughs and turned to the crowded hallway, waving his arms. “HEY EVERYONE! WES HERE THINKS I’M PHANTOM!” There was silence in the hallway for a few seconds before most kids erupted into roaring laughter.

“Fenton?”

“That spacey dweeb?”

“He’s not even dead!” That comment got even more laughs out of the crowd, many now directing their laughter at the basketball star. A vibrant blush spread across his cheeks and ears that only served to feed the laughing fire. Then a low voice beside the shorter boy spoke up.

“That was a little harsh, don’t you think?” Manson asked, nudging her friend's shoulder.

“I panicked, okay!”

---

Wes scoffed. 'Panicked' his ass. That stupid charade the ghost boy put on was all an act. He and his friends were probably laughing at him for being caught without any hard evidence to back up his claim. Honestly, as a member of the journalism club he should’ve known better than to make accusations without any proof on hand, but that didn’t excuse the other boy’s actions.

He thought back to the countless snickers behind his back, the pictures people took when they thought he wasn’t looking, the stupid Instagram memes with his photoshopped head. Curse this small town and its rabid high schoolers thirsty for entertainment. Wes clenched his fist around his pen. Then he took a deep breath and relaxed. It didn’t matter; all of this would go back to the way things were very soon. He smirked to himself.

The ghost boy and his friends wanted to make him the laughing stock of the school? Fine by him. After all, two could play the humiliation game.

“Wouldn’t that be ‘four’ since there’s three of them and one of you?” Wes slammed his journal shut.

“Shut up, Kyle!” He threw a pillow at the door. “And get out of my room!”

---

We find ourselves in the ghost boy's natural habitat. A large overcrowded prison of sorts filled with countless meaningless tasks for the ghost boy and his pod to fall asleep doing. There are large groups of humans moving around them like they are but a few steady rocks weathering the push and pull of a mighty tide.

Oh, it seems to have heard us, let’s wait and see how long it takes to—ah there it is.

“Uh, Wes, what are you doing?”

The ghost boy is attempting to communicate with our cameraman, but it doesn’t seem to be saying anything intelligent.

“Dude, that’s not even a good British accent.” And now the nerd is stepping in to help its leader.

“Is this about that joke from yesterday?” Its nervous now, pausing to rub at its neck. “Sorry if you’re normally shy about that stuff, but, uh, it was a really good joke.”

Fascinating. The ghost boy seems to have completely forgotten the hint it gave our determined cameraman the other day.

“Hint?”

Indeed. Hard evidence is the only way it will give a straight answer so we at Weston Documentaries strive to acquire said evidence.

There is also the matter of humiliating payback that is part of our mission statement. Thus our brave cameraman has volunteered to follow you closely for the next couple days or so to capture much needed blackmail, er, valuable footage as necessary.

Oh look, it's groaning now.

“Just don’t be a creep about it.” My my, in less than a second it looks like it hasn’t slept in years! What an impressive feat. “That’s more accurate than you think.” It even knows how to mumble and lower its voice. Amazing. Though one has to wonder why it didn't do that the other day instead of making our handsome cameraman the laughing stock of the school.

“Better yet, why don’t you just leave Danny alone and go back to your dumb jock stuff.” Our cameraman must tread lightly here, goths tend to be very territorial when it comes to their pods. This one in particular has been known to break kneecaps. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” A smile caught on camera? Quite the rarity our boy has filmed today.

Blaring alarms are going off. We believe that is the indication that there’s a ghost around, isn’t that right? Goodness, the ghost boy seems to be getting quite pale. Of course, that’s because it must find a place to change forms away from all the prying eyes. Ghost boys are a typically shy and private species after all.

And he’s off! Let’s hope our trusty cameraman can keep up!

“Will you knock it off?! This is serious!” Now we see the agitation from the ghost boy in a display of glowing green eyes. “They’re not—ugh, just get to safety, moron!”

It’s almost breathtaking how easily the ghost boy jumps over trash cans and nearly flies around corners. But our cunning and athletic cameraman has no equal when it comes to parkour.

Kick through the doors! Slide down the railing! Weave through the crowds! Jump up the—

“What the hell?!” Wes slipped on a book and tumbled to the ground, camera lens cracking as it smacked against the tile. He turned back to see a redheaded girl smiling at him.

“Oops! Sorry about that; I can be so clumsy sometimes. Here let me help you up.” She walked in front of him and accidentally kicked the camera into a large group of stampeding students. “Darn, I actually didn’t mean to do that,” she mumbled to herself before apologizing again.

Wes clenched a fist and pounded the tile. “This isn’t over, Fenton.” He watched the casing break open as it was launched into a wall and ground his teeth. “Not by a long shot.”

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression, radio version. Ep 15, Jan 2016.

Kaoru introduces the show's concept first, and then welcomes Joe. Joe comments on how Dir's Budokan shows are due to happen in less than a week. Kaoru also says that he will have done a talk event in Shinjuku the previous day ('will have', as the show is pre-recorded).

Kaoru then reads out the show's contact info and gets straight on with the first topic. He begins by saying that over the new year period, and during time off many people will have been watching movies. Joe asks Kaoru how often he goes to see movies. Kaoru says he goes to the movie theater maybe 2-3 times a year, and otherwise buys or rents DVSs. He also says he watches a lot on satellite tv services like Sky Perfect etc. Joe asks him which movies from the previous year have left an impression on him. He says there is always something that did, but he can never think of it off the top of his head when he is asked. One example he can remember is the movie, 'Zero Gravity'. He can actually say more about movies he wants to see. For example, 'The Act of Killing', a documentary movie looking into the minds of those responsibile for a mass killing in Indonesia (Joe thinks the movie is set in Thailand, but its actually Indonesia).

Kaoru also mentions the John Malkovich film, '100 Years', which is due to be premiered on the 18th of November in the year 2115 in Cognac, France. Until then, it is being kept in a safe which is set to open automatically in 100 years time. Kaoru is kinda interested in this safe. Invitations to the premier made out of metal have been sent to various people for them to pass on to their descendants. The inspiration behind the idea came from the amount of time it takes to make Lois XIII Congac, 100 years. Joe thinks this is an interesting idea when compared to the culture of instant consumption of new material that we have now, but wonders whether the film will resonate with audiences 100 years from now. He then considers that we do have movies from 100 years ago that are watchable, Chaplin etc, so maybe this has a chance. Kaoru says that we don't know how far technology will develop in the next 100 years. Joe asks Kaoru whether Dir would ever make a song to be released in 100 years if they were requested to? Kaoru answers that they would if they were ordered to. It would probably be something quite simple if they did. Something timeless, with a simple message that wasn't influenced by the trends of the age. He also says that he tries to do this anyway as it can lead to new discoveries. Joe thinks its weird that none of the people involved in the movie will be around when it is eventually released. This leaves a slightly bitter taste with Kaoru, as they won't ever have to take the criticism or responsibility for it.

Next they welcome Dobashi for the Tokyo Sports corner. His first topic is that the media compay 'Shin R25' had announced a list of 'Athletes you don't want to be friends with', after carrying out a survey on men in the 20s-30s age range in 2015. The results were as follows:

1) Soccer player Honda Keisuke.

2) Baseball star Ichiro

3) Baseball player Yu Darvish

4) Sumo wrestler Hakuko Sho

5) Skater Yuzuru Hanyu/Golfer Ishikawa Ryo.

etc etc.

Dobashi agrees with this list, stating these kind of people are harsh, and difficult to interview. In particular he mentions that Honda Keisuke is not a fan of Tokyo Sports. Why?  asks Joe...Well, says Dobashi, its because they've written a lot of pieces badmouthing him. (lols from the others at this). Dobashi had also heard that Ichiro would often fire tough questions back at journalists.

Joe asks Kaoru what he does when he's not in the mood to be interviewed, or he doesn't like the questions. Kaoru says its not so much of a big deal, because they only ever appear in quite limited sections of the media (music mags etc). So, as they are not usually all over the tv or newspapers etc, they feel quite free to answer in any way they please, or not. Kaoru is not sure if this is a good thing, as he wonders if the magazines will still put it out what he says in the way that he actually intends it.

Joe then asks Dobashi if Tokyo Sports confirms the content of articles with their subjects before publishing. Dobashi says they do sometimes, and he then goes into a long explantion about the inner workings of Tokyo Sports compared to other newspapers. Joe asks Kaoru how strict he is when it comes to checking his interviews before a magazine publishes. He says he does look out for instances where the interviewer has got his nuance wrong, and he will also cut sections that he thinks the members have gotten carried away with durng interviews. Dobashi says checking material with artists etc can be very tricky for newspapers, because they want to try to avoid any kind of censorship if they can, and maximise their freedom of press. Also, people are generally wary of the newspapers getting any kind of scoop on them.

Dobashi's next story relates to the news that journalist Tatsuya Kato, former Seoul Bureau cheif at Sankei shinbun newspaper, had been aquitted after being charged with defamation of the South Korean president for questioning her wherabouts in the hours after the ferry sinking disaster in 2015. This makes Dobashi think about how much the freedom of reporting is tolerated. Another point of interest is that in the 50th year since the normalisation of Japan/South Korea relations, the judge in the case indicated a desire not to inflame current Japanese-Korean ties. Dobashi wonders how much of the aquittal came from the potential dimplomatic consequences, and how much came from a desire to uphold press freedom. Joe comments that to him it feels wrong to only target the journalist who wrote the article, and not the newspaper that published it. Kaoru concludes that the eventual outcome of the case seems natural, considering the damage that would have otherwise been done to the slowly improving Japanese-South Korean relations.

Kaoru finishes by plugging his imminent Budokan shows, which were to be the final of the Arche tour cycle, but also a means of looking forward to whatever comes next. He says he gets in live mode about a week before a big show like this, due to all the prep that needs to happen in advance. Finally he invites listeners to carry on contacting the show as always via email.

Songs - Dir en grey/ Ruten no tou (acoustic ver.), Orange 9mm/Glistening.

[seasonofthewicth]

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 9

AN: a slightly longer one today guys, got myself all emotional with the rowaelin here and i hope it gets you too

masterlist - ao3

------ 

“He was friendly when he first came in,” Chaol’s normally subdued tone was full of energy as he spun his tale, eyes wide with excitement as he looked towards Aelin. “But then so quickly he goes completely crazy, shouting and ranting so loud in my face that Maeve has to come in and see what the problem is.”

Yrene laughed fondly at her husband as she rested a hand on his shoulder where she sat across the wooden staff room table from Aelin, “You could hear it all the way down the corridor.”

Aelin laughed as she took in Chaol’s wide eyed expression and Dorian’s restrained laughter, Yrene’s gentle grin and Nehemia’s cool smirk.

Her first parent-teacher conference at the new school was this evening, and to her absolute delight, her friends were busy spinning their horror stories. Admittedly, she was nervous for the event, and even though it wasn’t her first time it was always an unnerving experience at a new school. It was her opportunity to introduce herself to the parents as Miss Galathynius and show them who she was, what she had, and to prove to them that she was the best choice for their children.

Realistically, she knew she had no reason to be nervous, her class were a great group of children, they all tried hard and engaged enthusiastically with her lessons, but meeting their parents for the first time was important. Making her first impression as an educator was important, and she knew that people sometimes unfairly judged her. At her previous school she knew some of the parents had made some unfair and incorrect assumptions about her but she had tried not to let it bother her. Had tried to brush off their barely hidden insults about her styles of teaching and even her choices of clothing. She couldn’t change peoples’ opinions but she could try to change their lasting impressions of herself.

Dorian had assured her that the majority of the parents at the school were great, most were pretty chilled out as long as their child wasn’t falling too far behind, which Aelin knew hers weren’t. That said, it was Dorian who had prompted the story time session in the break room, wordlessly picking up on her nervousness and launching into every horror story he could remember from his years teaching.

Since their ill-fated affair he had cemented his place in her life as one of her closest friends, rivalling only Lysandra in level of familiarity and they had spent an increasing amount of time together. From coffee runs to lounging around the loft watching movies she enjoyed every moment they spent together and she was comfortable that there was no remaining awkwardness from their brief tangle.

She hadn’t told anyone the outcome of their date yet, she hadn’t had much time to catch up with Lysandra since, and it wasn’t something she was particularly keen to tell her roommates. As much as she loved them there were times that their typical guy nature made her hesitant to share, and her failure to sleep with her date was not something she felt like sharing with them.

She was especially reluctant to share that piece of information with Rowan, he had told her to forget about their moment in the kitchen, and she had tried. It just hadn’t worked out quite as she had planned. But she was resolved, she would get over him, and if having him think she was dating Dorian told him she was, she wasn’t complaining.

“It took five minutes for us to even figure out what he was yelling about.” Chaol continued, flashing her an exasperated look.

“Which was?” Aelin asked, already grinning in anticipation of whatever ridiculous answer Chaol could give.

In her experience Chaol was a by-the-book teacher. She liked him, he was pretty smart, straightforward and an involved and ambitious teacher, she couldn’t imagine him doing anything deserving of being shouted at by a parent.

“Chaol had, completely unreasonably,” Dorian drawled sarcastically, tossing his unstarted apple between his palms, “decided to offer his students a quiz for the last class of the week instead of one more hour of curriculum teaching.”

Yrene sketched a mocking gasp and Nehemia held a hand to her chest as she rolled her eyes at the story.

“Could you imagine such a thing?” She laughed, eyes dancing with mirth as she grinned over to Aelin.

Aelin shook her head in mock horror at Chaol, unable to fully hide her smile as she laughed along.

“How could you?” She asked, half laughing at the absurdity of the parent’s rage and half at Chaol’s over the top attempt at a dejected expression. “You aren’t actually making me feel any better about later, by the way.”

Yrene reached over to squeeze her shoulder, “You don’t need us to do that, they will all love you I’m sure.”

Aelin needed more of Yrene’s optimism in her life and admittedly the woman’s kind smile was infectious. She was also right, why wouldn’t they love her?

------

The documentary on the television hadn’t fully captured Rowan’s attention, it was something about an animal in the rainforest and he had missed the part where it’s name was given, but it would do for a lazy afternoon while the rest of his roommates were at work. The afternoons were one of his favourite times of the day, he had the loft to himself to read or watch or listen to whatever he wanted in the usually shared spaces rather than his ordinarily messy and somewhat cramped bedroom.

Being the only one of his roommates to not work in the daytimes had its ups and downs, the freedom and space was a definite pro, but sometimes it could be lonely sitting around the loft on his own, and the days Lorcan was off with him after working a shift were often ones he enjoyed the most. His friend had a sarcastic and wicked sense of humour that worked well with Rowan’s relatively blunt demeanor. He’d never tell him that though.

Of everyone in the loft he had known Lorcan for the shortest amount of time. Technically, but he didn’t count the years of Aelin being in his periphery as knowing her. They had met through Fenrys, and Rowan wasn’t convinced that even Fenrys knew how he had come to be friends with the surly male, their personalities weren’t ones Rowan would have expected to be friends, but years later Lorcan had managed to cement himself as one of Rowan’s closest friends.

He checked the time on his phone as the sound of the loft front door caught his attention, none of his roommates should be at the loft at this time.

Seconds later Aedion came into view, already shucking off his tie before launching himself onto the couch next to Rowan with a deep sigh. Rowan slowly turned his head towards his best friend, waiting for him to reopen his eyes before raising his eyebrows.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” He began. “But why are you here?”

Aedion laughed before rolling forwards to sit upright on the sofa.

“Turned in the final piece for one of our biggest accounts this morning so we all got the afternoon off.”

“Nice,” Rowan nodded, Aedion probably worked the hardest of all of them in the loft. He worked for a marketing firm that had a bunch of high profile clients and he spent many nights in the office working overtime. Rowan shared those unpopular hours, but was grateful he didn’t have the early mornings too. “What are you doing for the rest of the day then?”

Aedion shrugged. “Thought I could spend some quality time with you my friend. Maybe find out what you wanted to talk to me about the other day.”

Aedion’s smirk was predatory, and Rowan felt like a deer in the headlights. He opened his mouth then closed it again.

He had been more than lucky to have gotten away with it for so long, he was surprised Aedion had managed the few days of Rowan saying nothing before giving in and straight up asking.

Since Aelin’s date with Dorian the man’s presence had become a regular feature of the loft, each visit reducing Rowan’s desire to admit any of his feelings about Aelin to anyone, let alone Aelin herself. He had tried to avoid being in the room when they were snuggling on the couch or had quickly changed the topic when he had come up in conversation.

Message received. He was at least glad that Aelin seemed happy, and it was his own fault that it wasn’t with him. He had told her to forget it ever happened and she had. Why Aedion wanted to make him talk about it now was anyone’s guess, he just wanted to deal with it alone. Preferably by not thinking about it, or at least trying not to.

“Oh nothing,” He brushed it off. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Aedion raised a golden eyebrow, unimpressed with Rowan’s clear denial and he winced internally. He should have known better than to assume Aedion would have been satisfied with that.

“Are you sure?” Aedion’s question was all too innocent. “You sure it wasn’t about anyone in particular?”

Rowan gritted his teeth, knowing he was just going to have to let this play out.

Aedion took a moment, pretending to ponder his next words and letting Rowan stew in his anticipation. “Not even my darling cousin?”

Rowan felt his cheeks begin to burn as he chewed on the inside of his lip. Aedion was a smug son of a bitch, smiling at Rowan like a cat who got the cream.

Rowan took a deep breath in. “Don’t fucking tell anyone, okay.”

Aedion’s expression dropped into something slightly more serious.

“Pinky swear,” Aedion grinned at him and Rowan flashed him a glare.

“I’m definitely not saying anything if you’re not being serious.”

Aedion cleared his throat, making a show of sobering his expression. “I’m serious, okay, now go.”

“So you clearly know something went down between me and Aelin,” That was as good a place to start as any he supposed. “How did you even find out about that?”

“Lysandra.” Aedion’s voice was almost dopey as he said the woman’s name. Gross, even though he was happy for his friend it was gross.

“Nice to know you and your girlfriend have nothing better to do than gossip about me.” Rowan frowned.

“Believe me, we have better things to do,” Aedion’s grin took over his whole face. “It’s just when we’re done we move on to pitying you…”

“I said be serious.” Rowan said bluntly, embarrassed enough as it was.

“Sorry, sorry.” Aedion held his hands up. “Continue.”

“There isn’t much more to be said.” He paused, realising the almost uncomfortable truth in his own words. “She’s moved past it anyway, like I told her too, so that’s it. We’re good, no danger of that.”

The look Aedion gave him was pure pity and Rowan looked away fast.

“Ro,” His friend’s voice was soft as he said his name, but he struggled for anything more, clearly reading Rowan better than he ever wanted to be read.

Rowan shrugged. “It’s fine, we’re all good.”

Aedion opened his mouth to speak but Rowan interrupted before he could get a word out.

“You need to tell her about you and Lysandra.” He could only see the secret ending in disaster, and now he was involved. He owed it to Aedion to keep the secret, but the guilt of keeping it from Aelin was eating away at him.

Aedion sighed, “I know. We will, soon. It’s just, when? You know?”

“You need to do it soon.” Rowan told him, feeling somewhat like a parent scolding a child. “You’re only going to upset her, and keeping it all a secret longer is just going to make it worse.”

Aedion looked down to the couch they sat on, avoiding Rowan’s eyes.

“I know.” He sighed.

“I don’t want her to get hurt.” It was as much as Rowan was willing to admit out loud.

“I don’t either.” Aedion’s tone was defensive and Rowan sighed.

“Now,” He began, pushing off the couch and standing above his friend. “I have a shift at the bar, you coming?”

Aedion half-smiled up at him. “Alright, but I’m not paying for any of my drinks.”

Rowan scoffed, “When do you ever?”

Aedion rose to his feet, shrugging, “Just making sure.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, feeling as Aedion always made him feel, relaxed and amused with the usual hint of mild irritation.

------

The evening had passed relatively quickly, all of the parents she had met so far had been lovely and were well engaged in their children’s lives and education which Aelin always appreciated. She only had one parent left to meet, the father of her student Evangeline, a bubbly young girl who Aelin adored. The young girl was inquisitive and tried hard with anything Aelin threw at them, a perfect student in Aelin’s eyes.

A knock on her classroom door sounded and she jumped to her feet, calling out for them to come in as she rose. The man who came through her doorway was striking, his golden hair shone and his green eyes were bright. He was dressed in a sharp grey suit, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his tie was missing.

He held a hand out for her to shake and she caught a brief glance of a tattoo on his wrist, one that looked almost like a snake, peeking past his expensive looking watch.

“Archer Finn,” His voice was low and smooth, as he flashed her a polished smile.

“Aelin Galathynius,” She shook his hand firmly and smiled widely. “Please, take a seat.”

The man slid smoothly into the seat opposite her, and she forced her mind to focus on the task at hand, and reminded herself that this was one of her student’s fathers. No sign of a ring, her unhelpful mind added.

“Thank you, Miss Galathynius,” He folded his hands in his lap. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to speak with you about Evangeline’s progress.”

Aelin grinned. “As have I, Evangeline is a fantastic student, the passion she displays in the classroom is phenomenal. Her artwork-- she displays a level of true talent.”

“Yes,” His tone was clipped. “That is what I have been hoping to talk to you about.”

Aelin felt her smile freeze.

“Evangeline will not be participating in any art activities from this point onwards, I don’t believe they are of any value. To put it bluntly, they’re a complete waste of time.”

Aelin was frozen, paused in a state of shock at the man’s words.

“I unfortunately have to disagree--”

He held a hand up to stop her and she recoiled.

“Please, Miss Galathynius,” He huffed out a condescending laugh and Aelin felt her blood begin to boil. “As her father I believe I know what is best for Evangeline.”

“And what is that?” She asked dryly.

Archer Finn seemed to take a moment, raking his eyes from her head to her toe before meeting her gaze again. She could tell the look hadn’t been one of appreciation and she bristled.

“What Evangeline needs is a teacher who takes her education seriously, someone who understands that painting her pretty pictures is a waste of time.” The sarcasm in his voice had her clenching her jaw, but she tried to rein in her temper, remembering that she was still new to the school.

“Mr Finn, I--”

He held a hand to her face again and stood, buttoning his suit jacket as he did, and Aelin slowly rose out of her chair.

“Mr Finn, I have a masters degree in children’s education, I know the value of creativity in learning.” Aelin could hardly keep her voice steady as she spoke, barely concealing the anger the man in front of her had managed to unleash inside her in such a short space of time.

The man seemed to sneer at her words, looking down his nose at her as he frowned.

“You may well have, and I’m sure it was worth every penny to you.” He smirked at her, crushing her with only a handful of words. “Either way, Evangeline will be seeing a private tutor during your creative hours.”

The scorn in his voice burned her, hitting her in a deep part of her soul that wasn’t often exposed. She knew she was right, knew that she knew what Evangeline needed, knew that her methods of teaching had merit and worth. This sad excuse for a father was blind and arrogant if he thought he knew better than Aelin, but she was trapped. What more could she say to change his mind?

In her silence he had crossed the room to pause by the door before turning back to look at her where she stood dumbfounded behind her desk, clenching her fists at her sides and trying to compose herself.

“I’m glad we had this chat, Miss Galathynius.” With that he was gone, taking his smug and condescending atmosphere with him.

Her breath rushed out of her in a gust, burning her throat as she held back the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn’t believe him, Mr Finn. The audacity he had to walk into her classroom and speak to her like that.

She dropped back into her seat, resting both of her hands against the cool wood of her desk and focussing on all the knots and whorls in the wood, breathing deeply in and out as she centred her thoughts. She almost couldn’t believe how her evening had ended up and she let out a brief snort at the idea that maybe her story could now beat Chaol’s from this morning.

A knock at her door snapped her to attention, if Mr Finn had come back for another go at her she wouldn’t be able to bite her tongue this time. Her fears were sedated when a familiar head of dark curls poked around the door frame.

Dorian’s smile was bright and easy as he walked towards her, perching on the front of one of her student's desks.

“So?” He asked as he crossed his ankles in front of himself, the portrait of a male completely at ease.

Aelin only shook her head, unable to sum up her final visit in a few words.

“Have you ever taught Evangeline Finn?” She managed, hating how destroyed she sounded even to her own ears.

Dorian barely managed to cover his wince.

“Ah,” He sighed. “You met Archer Finn. How bad was it?”

She looked at the floor, holding back the flood that wanted to break through, she refused to cry in school over a parent, no matter how much he had riled her up.

“Bad,” She managed but her voice betrayed her, letting a crack rip through the word.

Dorian was around the desk and at her side within a second, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“What did he say?” Dorian asked, his tone gentle as if not to startle her.

Aelin sniffed. “Oh you know, the usual, dismissing my teaching and belittling my degree.”

She let out a self-deprecating laugh as she looked to Dorian whose brow creased at her words.

“Don’t listen to him. You know he’s not right.” She knew his words were earnest, but they couldn’t keep the doubt at bay and she shrugged out of his hold.

“I don’t know,” She looked away.

“Come on,” Dorian tried. “Let’s get a drink or something, take your mind off it.”

“Thanks, Dorian. But I think I just want to go home and be alone.”

Dorian’s mouth twisted as he considered it, probably weighing up whether or not to try again. Eventually he relented.

“Text me if you need anything, okay? I’m here for you.”

She lightly squeezed his hand before rising to pack up her things. His offer hadn’t tempted her, she did want to be alone, but maybe a drink wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

------

The bar was relatively busy, a few customers every so often had him drifting in and out of conversation with Aedion. Lorcan had joined Aedion at the bar not long after they arrived, grumbling about something or other that Rowan soon avoided, turning back to another customer after dropping off Lorcan’s pint.

A brief lull allowed him to drift back to his friends, wiping down a few spills along the bar as he went.

“It’s the fucking worst, all right.” The dark-haired giant complained, words muffled by the strong hand he ran down his face.

Rowan turned to Aedion for explanation who merely shrugged before lifting his empty glass to Rowan. He grabbed it and turned to refill it as Lorcan spoke again.

“I didn’t sign up for any of this, stupid regulations and reforms.”

Lorcan was clearly in a talking mood tonight. Rowan met Aedion’s eyes, a silent challenge, begging the blond man to speak first but Aedion just leaned back in his seat, taking a large gulp of his beer. Rowan flicked him the middle finger before turning to Lorcan.

“What is?”

Lorcan turned the force of his glare to Rowan who shifted against the unexpected heat.

“My stupid boss.”

“What about them?” Aedion finally joined in.

Lorcan sighed, a frustrated sound as if explaining it would be hard work. Rowan grinned a sharp flash of teeth at Aedion who rolled his eyes at their friend’s dramatics.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to drink.” Lorcan finished his drink in a final swig, placing the glass before Rowan ceremoniously.

Rowan scooped it up, sketching a mocking salute at his friend. “That, we can do.”

As he turned he spotted Fenrys making his way over from the door and he grabbed another glass to fill as the golden-haired man took his seat. He dumped the drinks in front of his friends with little finesse as Fenrys spoke.

“Why is Aelin sitting in the corner on her own?”

Aelin?

“Aelin’s here?” Aedion asked as the four of them turned to look where Fenrys had pointed.

Sure enough, Aelin was tucked away in a booth in the corner of the room. He hadn’t noticed her come in and Rowan could see the glum expression on her face even from a distance.

“Is she okay?” He managed.

“She doesn’t look okay.”

The three of them swivelled to look at Lorcan, matching looks of disbelief across each of their faces.

“Has she said anything to any of you?” Fenrys asked. “Anything to Lysandra?” With a look to Aedion who shook his head.

“Should we go over?” Aedion asked, an unsure twist to his mouth.

“If she wanted to sit with us she’d be here.” Lorcan said bluntly.

“Shut up, asshole.” Rowan narrowed his eyes. “I’ll take her a drink.”

-------

The glass of wine was cool in his hand as he made his way across the bar, skirting round tables of customers as he went.

“Hey,” His voice was soft as he reached Aelin’s booth, lingering by the edge of the table as she looked up at him.

His heart jolted at the expression she wore. Her beautiful blue eyes were wide and red-rimmed, her plush pink lips twisted into a pout. She swallowed before speaking and the hurt in her voice tore his heart again.

“Oh. Didn’t think you’d notice me here.” Her voice was quiet as he dropped into the seat opposite her and pushed the glass towards her.

“It’s kind of my job to notice who needs a drink,” He said equally quietly, leaning forwards and pressing his arms against the table between them. He had hoped his words would bring a smile but Aelin pursed her lips, debating, before reaching towards the glass and taking a sip.

At least there was that.

“You don’t-- I mean, you don’t have to answer... If you don’t want to, but,” He didn’t usually stumble over his words so much. “Are you okay?”

Aelin’s refusal to meet his eyes pretty much answered his question, but he still waited for her to speak.

She blew out a breath, the air teasing the fair strands of hair around her face as she looked towards the ceiling then back down to him.

“Not really.” She said as she looked away from him again.

He spared a glance over to the bar where his friends sat, watching him and Aelin, each with expressions of concern. Even Lorcan for all his grumbling before Rowan came over.

“What happened?” He asked as gently as he could.

Aelin took a sip of her wine, glancing around the bar and spotting their friends who quickly jumped back into their own conversation before resting her gaze back on him.

She shrugged, putting her glass back on the table before speaking.

“One of my student’s parents basically told me I’m a shit teacher today.”

“Aelin no,” The words left him in a rush, utterly raw in his desperation to reassure her. “Aelin, you have to know you’re not a shit teacher.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her pout still standing strong.

“What did they say?”

“Just that my degree is worthless and that I don’t know what’s best for the kids.”

Asshole. Fucking asshole.

If he ever saw the asshole who had said those cruel words to Aelin he’d-- He didn’t know what he’d do but it would hurt.

“Aelin, don’t listen to them. That’s not true.”

“It’s not?” Her question, in combination with her soft sniffle shattered him.

He reached out to lightly grasp one of her hands in his, gently toying with her delicate fingers.

“Of course not Aelin. You’re an incredible teacher.”

She drew her hand back to take another sip of her wine.

“How would you know?” She asked. “You’ve never seen me teach.”

“I don’t need to Aelin. I know you, and you’re everything a good teacher should be. Kind, caring, patient, passionate-”

“Okay,” She interrupted.

“I’m serious Aelin, promise me you won’t believe a word that asshole said.”

She scoffed, looking away from him yet again.

“Aelin?”

“Okay, I promise.” Her tone was resigned, but at least she had agreed. He didn’t know how much help he had managed to be, but he hoped at least a small part of her had listened.

“What are you doing sitting alone anyway? You can always come to us with things like this.” He knew without a doubt that the others would agree.

She brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and Rowan’s fingers itched to follow the motion but he held his hands together, now under the table. She shrugged as a faint blush crossed her cheeks and Rowan fought the warmth blooming inside him at the sight.

“Come and drink with us.” He said, nodding his head towards where the others were sitting at the bar. “Salvaterre’s miserable too so you won’t be alone.”

At that, Aelin’s lips twitched as the hint of a smile ghosted across her face, it was the closest he had seen all night and he’d take it.

“Why?” Her voice was quiet.

“Other than the usual?” He joked and she finally cracked a real smile, small but still there, and the relief that flooded through him was like lightning. “I think it’s something about his work or his boss, I don’t really know.”

He slid himself out of the booth and held a hand out to her, his final request, if she really didn’t want to join them he could accept that, but he knew he’d still keep an eye on her for the rest of the night.

Thankfully she stood, grabbing her things and leading the way over to their friends, and he sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gods. Over her head he saw Aedion flash him a thankful smile. She flopped onto a stool next to Fenrys as Rowan slid back behind the bar.

“So,” She turned to Lorcan, barely missing a beat. “What are you crying about now?”

Lorcan didn’t hesitate before lunging into his story, his own subtle way of making sure Aelin was alright and not dwelling on her issues.

“My new boss is an asshole. Turns up in Rifthold fresh out of headquarters in somewhere called Perranth, and thinks everyone should just bow down or something. Now, first of all, I’ve never even heard of Perranth,” He paused to take a bitter swig of his beer.

“Me neither,” Fenrys chimed in.

“It’s in Terrasen,” Aelin said after a sip of her own wine. The heaviness from before didn’t weigh on her face anymore and Rowan turned to serve another customer, hiding his smile. “I think I went once when I was a kid.”

Lorcan frowned at her but Rowan could tell it lacked it’s usual heat.

“Whatever,” Lorcan continued. “The point is, I’ve worked here for years, I know Rifthold and how things are done. Captain Lochan has been here all of five minutes and apparently knows all the improvements we need to make.”

The curl of Lorcan’s lips as he hissed his boss’ name prompted a small laugh, the guy must be a total hardass to have Lorcan so riled.

“What’s wrong with the improvements?” Aelin asked and Lorcan sighed.

“Nothing is wrong with the improvements,” He muttered and Aelin finally laughed, the tinkling sound washing over Rowan and settling into his bones.

“So what’s the problem?” Aedion asked after a moment, the question that they were all thinking and Lorcan shot him a glare, this time not lacking any heat.

“The problem is the Captain. So controlling and everything has to be done in exactly their way, constantly on me about my reports as well.” He rolled his eyes, clearly over talking about his boss and Rowan couldn't help from poking the bear one last time.

“Why don’t you invite the Captain here? I don’t know any problem a free beer couldn’t solve.”

“Absolutely not.” Lorcan said, shaking his head.

“Well I, for one, want to meet the famous Captain Lochan.” Fenrys grinned. “Especially if it would annoy you so much.”

“Don’t.” Lorcan said, a hair’s width below a growl.

“Why not?” Aedion joined in and Rowan watched the smile settling on Aelin’s lips at their friends’ antics.

He shook himself, laughing along as Lorcan slugged Aedion in the shoulder.

“Maybe find something to take your mind off it?” Fenrys suggested and Rowan knew where he was going would be fun. “Get a pet or something?”

“Just watch me, boyo.” Lorcan bared his teeth around the grin threatening to take over his own face. His pretend displeasure only just winning the battle.

The smile on Aelin’s face struck him again in its beauty, and he forced his attention away from her and back to the idiots now suggesting outlandish animals Lorcan could bring home as a pet.

He bit his lip as Aelin suggested a lion in response to Aedion’s tiger and thanked the gods again that she was smiling.

------

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