#bringing some positivity towards unraveled bc I feel like it

[clarity2electricboogaloo]

This is silly idc

Im excited for unraveled. I think it’ll be fun

[loveandlegacy]

these are from the storyboards for s1. the text on this is small but there's a little note on there that says:

when viktor comes to jayce, he walks from the light towards the dark. jayce will be the dark side of viktor.

ig this could be purely a note about blocking/staging but viktor's color story has always struck me in that his color script feels very pointed if you compare his first and last scenes.

his opening scene is one of the very few times we see him in daylight and iirc is only one of four times that the sunlight is warm, clear, and direct. most of his other daylight scenes are overcast or cold with the exceptions of jayce's trial where the daylight literally disappears bc the council room windows close lol, his childhood encounter with singed, his argument with jayce on the bridge where the smoke from the handmade incendiaries turns the sunlight hazy, and the moment when he's about to jump from the filtration tower and jayce talks him down. viktor has a weird relationship to light like literally and also symbolically lol.

even here! in this opening scene where the sunshine is quite warm and the colors are very muted/gentle and the shadows are visibly penetrable ie not pure chiaroscuro, he is still standing literally half in light and half in shadow. two poles he has to choose between essentially, dark side light side.

compare this to his last scene where the like. thematic arc of his story comes to a very pointed conclusion about which pole seems to have captured him

he's like....swallowed up by shadow and the light that falls on him is either red from the blood moon or bounce light from the council spotlights. in fact his and jayce's positions have completely flipped from the note in the storyboard and it's jayce and mel aglow in literal halos of light with viktor washed in darkness. even viktor and jayce's physical positions have switched: in the opening scene, viktor's standing and jayce is sitting. in this closing moment, jayce stands and viktor sits.

like i said i always assumed viktor's progression from light into dark was a color scripting choice and not something that might have come up at the storyboard stage even tho the two aren't necessarily mutually exclusive. it also never occurred to me to think of jayce as having really anything to do with viktor's 'dark side', but it is a cool lens to use to receive their first meeting and it adds some weight to the way that relationship reverses by the end. viktor becomes worse for his knowledge of hextech/the hexcore (a thing heimerdinger warns him about), but that avenue was only really available to him in the first place because he decided to help jayce.

jayce's arc on the other hand has him emerge from the shadows of ignorance more or less — he goes from having his head in the clouds about magic to having to reckon with what piltover has done to the zaun in general and to viktor in particular. like someone stepping into the light, he sees clearly what hextech/piltover and a kind of heedless pursuit of progress as guided by fear has wrought when he kills a kid in silco's factory. and from there develops a final clarity about his beliefs and ethics. he is quite literally glowing with the force of this certainty in his last moments with the council...but none of this would have happened had he not befriended viktor.

i don't think jayce is like a purely negative influence on viktor's life or that viktor is a purely positive one on jayce's or anything just to be clear. i think the whole point of the lighting/color story is that these two people bring out both good and bad extremes in one another, and the reversal of their polarities on those extremes is a very sad story about a friendship unraveling despite everyone's best efforts to correct the course

[sstargirln]

HEYYYY GIRLLLYYY IDK IF U REMEMBER ME FROM UR LAST BLOG BUT IM UR BIGGEST FAN FRFR

okok so imagine this like hear me out. i have two actually!

so rafe cameron licking tequila off of you as like a dare or something and obv smut to entail

orrr him doing lines off of you which I'm not even sure would work lmaooo but i'd go feral over that shit!!

xx

HOLLY OFC I REMEMBER YOU OMG (im gonna do the tequila one bc idk how the coke one would work really but i will get back to u)

TW : smut MDNI - oral fem recieving , alcohol , mentions of making out , PUBLIC sex

word count : 655 (i went a little cray this was supposed to be short)

¡! ❞ a/n: you're topper's ex in this

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everybody was so wasted. you could barely remember the events of two minutes ago, let alone the beginning of this long game of truth dare or dare. discarded bottles and clothing littered the ground of topper's living room, and the ring of people began to get smaller and smaller as people passed out or went home. two random girls had been dared to kiss, and they were making out passionately in the middle of the circle.

"okay enough, lesbos." topper pushes them apart, earning a groan from some. "next." one of the girls grazed her eyes around the circle, landing on rafe.

"i dare you to lick tequila off of someone's pussy." a roar went up from around the circle, and a lazy grin spread across rafe's face. he hummed and glanced at topper as his smile widened, flashing his canines in a wildly attractive way.

"y/n." your name rolls off of his tongue nonchalantly and you bite your lip. topper's jaw tightens, but he grabs a half-empty bottle of tequila from the floor and tosses it to rafe.

you were so drunk you didn't even think, crawling towards rafe and sitting on his lap. "lay down for me, pretty girl." he said lowly, pulling your dress to pool around your ankles and pulling your panties off with a hooked finger. "so gorgeous, aren't you, love?" he crooned, grabbing your tit in his large hand and slowly palming it as he poured the drink onto your stomach.

you had forgotten all about the others in the room, so incredibly needy for his touch. your hips bucked against your will as his fingers traced your navel. looking at you through heavy-lidded eyes, rafe brought his face down to your abdomen, licking up the trail of sweet liquid he had dripped onto you. his hand continued to tease your breasts, playing with your nipples. you whimpered as his warm mouth left your body, and his head perked up at the sound. "someone's desperate, huh?" he smiled, "be patient, pretty girl. m' gonna make you feel good in just a little."

your head seemed to cloud over with his words, a knot forming in your stomach. rafe left another pool of tequila right by your entrance, close enough that your pussy throbbed in anticipation. he spread your legs open a little wider, bringing his tongue back to lap up the alcohol. the tip of his tongue brushed your clit ever so slightly and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body. he moved his mouth off of you again, but he seemed to be going faster now, his eyes turning dark. he poured a whole shot's worth of tequila on your pussy, right above your clit. he slurped up the drink before latching his lips onto your sensitive spot.

you let out a loud moan, grabbing his head to keep it in position. not that he needed coaxing. he was moving feverishly now, gliding his tongue up and down your entrance as his fingers moved to tease your clit. the tequila lay forgotten while he expertly ate you out, earning moans and whimpers from you. "fuck, rafe." his eyes almost rolled on hearing his name in your mouth like this, and he moved faster around your pussy.

"the tequila!" someone yelled. you could barely hear over your own noises, so close to that knot in your stomach unravelling. just as you were about to cum, rafe lifted his mouth with a pop!.

you whimpered and bucking your hips, moving your fingers down to touch yourself. rafe grabbed your arms and shoved them above your head. "come on baby. hang on a little longer." you shook your head and you could feel tears form in your eyes.

rafe grabbed the bottle of tequila with one hand and poured the rest onto you in one quick motion. it took two movements of his tongue on your pussy again to set you over the edge, climaxing in a loud scream. as you panted for breath, rafe lifted his head with that grin on his face. the room was silent before a loud roar erupted from the audience.

"gotta do that again sometime, eh pretty girl?"

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¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2023

[a-kookie-with-my-tae]

TEASER

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Music Producer!Reader

Genre: Angst (bc I hate myself apparently), Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Reader is emotionally constipated, Koo just wants love, yelling, crying, why do I do this to myself, omg the tension between these two I can't even

A/N: This teaser seems super angsty but I promise the full fic is really fluffy, too! The reader just is really battling some trauma and inner demons and all the confliction that comes with it. I know this is pretty long for a tease, but I got a bit carried away writing, haha. I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

Masterlist

"Why do you always do that?" My hand freezes on the handle of the door, pausing my escape as his words resonate sounding as if he was speaking directly into my ear even though he was positioned on the other side of the room. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I state firmly, albeit shaky. I turn my head slightly to the side toward him, my eyes planted firmly forward. 

He scoffs. "Am I just crazy then?"

His voice cracks as it rises in pitch and volume, maddened at my anesthetized tone. I hear the sound of shuffling footsteps as he paces the length of the small studio we occupy. I almost smile at the habit, Jungkook always tends to pace when he's in his head.

"I mean, I can't be imagining things, right?" I hear him pause in place, assuming he's now facing me. "You have to feel it, too."

He says it almost as a question rather than a statement. I hang my head, eyes focusing on the light gray carpet as they start to well up. I take a deep, shaky breath as I try to gain my composure. I can never hold anything back with him, that's always been the problem. I thought I was as cold as ice, hard as stone. But near him I'm nothing but glass. He always seems to shatter my facade, pull out the emotions I locked away long ago. 

The urge to turn around and face him is near impossible to subdue, but I somehow managed to push the feelings down. I can't allow myself to feel for him. He's unreachable, even if he wasn't the most sought after man in the world. I can never compare to who he is. If I tried, I'd only fail. He's a shining light, a beam of beauty and I would only swallow him up in my darkness. I haven't allowed myself to love anyone in a long time. Loving him would only break me. 

My breathing stutters as I feel movement in the room. I don't even have to turn around to know that he is standing directly behind me. 

"You have too..." This time his voice is almost a whisper, his soft breath brushing the back of my neck. My hand falls from the door as they ball up in a fist, fingernails digging into the skin of my palms to hold back from reaching for him. The tears in my eyes start to fall as I fight the urge, my heart shattering in the process but I steel myself still.

I feel his hands hover over my arms, my body sensitive to his slightest movement. They shake as he tries to decide whether or not to touch me, knowing it's wanted but feeling it unwelcome in the current circumstances. I can feel the confliction in his mind. 

Just ignore him. He can never be yours, no matter what he says. Stick to your guns, Y/N. He's just another boy...

They sound like a lie, but the words still bring me reason, a new resolution, reminding me why I'm attempting to escape. The room feels heavy with tension as he waits for me to speak, our breathing the only sound.

But the silence is deafening.

My eyes dart back and forth as I try to put words together. A confession and a lie dueling for dominance in my head as my mouth stutters for a singular thought. 

I suck in a deep breath as his hand touches my fist, unraveling my fingers. 

"Turn around." Jungkook says softly, fingers intertwining with mine.

I turn my head to the side, still not able to make eye contact with him. I know as soon as I see his sparkly doe eyes filled with everything I'm terrified of... whatever resolution I have will shatter.

"Jungkook..." My voice cracks as my tears fall heavier. I clear my throat before straightening my spine and facing back toward the door, my eyes zeroing in on the handle. "Jungkook, let me go."

"Why?" His voice echoes through the studio as he raises his voice in exasperation. "Why can't you look at me?"

He grasps my hand harder as I try to pull away, tugging me toward him as my back hits the firmness of his torso. Even in my current state of mind, his touch still sends tingles throughout my whole body, melting me into him as my body betrays me. It brings me warmth in a way I've never known, and along with it the pain of knowing I can never allow myself to bask in it. 

"Because I'm not doing anything." The words don't even sound true to me, but I still try to fool myself into believing that I'm not lying through my teeth.

"You're lying!" He shouts. He pulls away from me, turning around. My body shrinks into itself at the loss of him, cold and numb. He laughs darkly.

I turn around, confused as to what could be bringing the laughter. I regret the decision immediately.

He's more disheveled than I've ever seen him before. I don't even have to see his face to know the agony that's in his eyes. His hands are buried in his hair, tugging it at the roots as if pulling it in all directions will somehow ease his frustration. 

He turns back around and his eyes lock with mine. My heart shatters at the state of him, cheeks red and tears streaming down his face. Whether they're from heartbreak or anger, I don't know. But, my resolution is slowly breaking away at the sight. Confusion, confliction, frustration, and pain all swim in those beautiful doe eyes and I hurt even more than I thought was possible seeing it. 

"You feel something, too! I know I'm not crazy. There's something here, I know it. But every time I get close, you run away..." His eyes bore into my very soul as he pauses, looking like a mad-man. The fact that I'm the cause if it makes me conflicted. On one hand I want to run and tug him into my embrace and tell him that it will all be okay. But on the other... I know it will only make it worse if I give in to that urge.

Slowly, he steps back toward me, reaching for my hands. This time I let him.

"Why do you always run away?" He whispers as he stares at our intertwined hands, a small crease forming as his brows furrow.

I look down at our hands, his fingers almost playing with my own. His are warm in mine. They feel as if they belong, sending warmth up my arms and to my chest. 

I take a deep breath before speaking. 

"You scare me, Jungkook." I admit, the whisper almost deafening.

There's a pause as he muddles over my words.

"Why?"

His hand reaches for my cheek when I don't respond, his fingers wrapping around my jaw and behind my ear. He gently turns my face up until I lock eyes with him, all the feelings that have been rushing through his mind can be seen clear as day in them.

"Why do I scare you?"

He pushes further, the crease in his forehead deepening. He steps even closer until our lips are mere inches apart, causing me to have to look upward to meet my eyes with his.

"What are you so scared of?" His voice raises as his lips curl.

"Because you're someone I can see myself falling in love with!"

My eyes stare at his chest, rising and falling with each jagged breath he takes. 

The silence seems to last forever before he's finally breaking it with a whisper.

"And what if I want you to?"

.

.

.

And I fall.

[bittersweetmorality]

can i please get a hawks hurt / comfort fix please 🥺🥺 like him waking up from a nightmare abt his childhood and u comforting him and cuddling him and making him feel better:)

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR THIS REQ IM GUNNA KISS U ON THE MOUTH ANON. YES !!! ugh hurt/comfort hawks is my biggest guilty pleasure bc i am one sad mf but i am a whore for hawks fluff . best of both worlds <3 also ! i'm so sorry it's short :(( 1,053 words is definitely short for my standards but ! i'm working on a lot of MHA stuff rn so keep an eye out ^_^

also this fic is definitely based off the song “First Day of my Life by Bright Eyes” cuz i listened to that song on REPEAT while writing this 😁🙏 definitely recommend listening to it while reading besties

— i love you more

☾ genre: hurt/comfort hawks fic !

☾ pairing: hawks x gn!s/o reader

☾ warnings: details of nightmares, heavy angst that pertains to emotional/physical abuse, cursing, just very sad and scared hawks :(

☾ w/c: 1,053

he was back in the dark living room— the one he was sure he escaped many years ago. the painfully familiar walls, despite the years of constant effort he put into repressing the memories. the memories of his father grabbing him by his neck with unrelenting strength, and thrusting him up against them, letting his breath ridden with alcohol and pure indifference fan against his cheek. the kind of indifference of a predator about to kill.

and all around him, no matter how much he sealed his eyes closed, covered his ears with all of his strength-- the retched smell of alcohol and his rotten memories were suffocating him.

why was he back here?

his heart began to race, feeling the way his fingers lost all heat and he felt his legs lose all bearings. his breathing an erratic, shaky pace, his eyes feeling cloudy from panic and pure fear as he scrambled through his dreadful surroundings in hopes of some sort of exit. but every step he took was completely useless. no matter how fast his legs moved, he still stood in the exact place he started.

he couldn’t escape.

footsteps could be heard echoing around him, getting louder and louder. it was haunting, like this moment was an exact replica of a night from many years ago. with his fixed position right in front of his father’s couch, and the weather of the night eerily quiet, as if the world was also terrified of the man slowly getting closer and closer to the helpless boy in the living room of a man who never loved him.

“keigo,” a gravely voice slurred from the other room, “keigo, fucking answer me. i know-- know you’re there.” he recognized it all-- the hiccup between his words, the genuine anger in his voice when he addressed him.

keigo blinked, and when he opened them again, his father appeared right in front of him, a large, half-drunk translucent bottle in hand.

"why the fuck didn't you respond? i fucking-- fucking called you, didn't i?" now that he was just mere centimeters from his ears, his voice sounded even more terrifying than his memory could ever bring justice.

his gaze followed the arm of his father that was holding the bottle, that was beginning to rise, and came straight down towards his head with pinpoint accuracy--

and keigo's eyes snapped open.

a thick sheen of cold sweat collected all over his shaking, trembling body. he wasn't able to identify his surroundings, his nightmare replaying itself with seemingly more lucidity than the first time. he still saw the haunting figure of his father at the foot of his bed, and as his breathing came in sharp, short breaths, he felt you sit up immediately.

you shot up from your slumber at the sound of keigo's sobbing, his knees pulled up to his chest, and his face buried between them as you saw his body shake violently. you've never seen him this unraveled; in this much pain.

"keigo? honey?" you softly called out, gently reaching out to him.

as your hand caressed him, you felt him tense under you for a split second, causing him to shoot up from his position to look at the source of the contact. as his eyes fell onto your gentle touch, he collapsed into you without thinking twice, holding onto you for dear life while you cradled him on instinct.

"hey... shh... baby, i'm here. you're safe. it's me, yeah? no one else is here except me and you," you shushed. you knew he occasionally suffered from devastating nightmares, and because of it, you were able to know exactly how to calm him down.

although his sobs didn't seem to subside much, you could feel the way he began to relax into you, as if he was aware that it really was you, not a part of his terrifying nightmare.

he knew you were always there for him.

you shifted from your upright sitting position into a lied down, comfortable spooning position, holding him against your chest while carefully stroking his hair. you waited until he had calmed down enough before trying to speak to him again.

"...nightmare," he mumbled against you.

"i figured, baby," you planted a soft kiss against his hair, "i've got you. you're safe."

he sniffled in response, nuzzling his face deeper into your embrace. you softly rubbed your palm over the expanse of his back to soothe him, and ultimately ground him-- remind him that this was the real world, not the nightmare.

"he was back." keigo shuddered.

you couldn't help the small droplets forming in the corners of your eyes, "honey... i'm so sorry. so... so sorry. i know how scary he is. but..." you took a deep breath,

"but he's not here. he's not back. god, i wish i could get rid of him inside your head like we were able to in reality. but right now, it's only me. me, and your comfy bed, and your comfy blanket, and your comfy pajamas, yeah?" you lifted his head up by his chin to make him look up at you as you spoke.

"yeah?" you repeated.

he slowly nodded.

"yeah, j-just you. and... and my comfy blanket..."

"mhm, your favorite blanket. the fluffy one you like to run your fingers across. why don't you try it right now, sweetheart?"

he took many deep breaths as he held the blanket close to him, running his fingers through it to remind himself that he was okay-- his father wasn't here, because the nightmare wasn't real.

the blanket was real. the calming lavender scent on the bedroom was real.

you were real.

he took one final deep breath, opening his eyes to look at you again. your face illuminated by the soft moonlight, perfectly casting your concerned, but gentle expression.

"thank you..."

you could barely hear the words that escaped his lips, but even so you knew how much he meant them.

"of course, keigo... i'll always be here. always. you know you always have me, and i'll be here to remind you no matter what."

he finally released all of the tension in his body, fully relaxing in your warm embrace.

"goodnight, sweetheart," you whispered, planting one final kiss.

"...i love you" he whispered back.

"i love you more."

masterlist

[ukai-simp-services]

hot cocoa

oikawa x reader domestic fluff

(could be interpreted as a female reader but its pretty gender neutral tbh)

warnings: slight cursing, suggestive content, french kissing, play fighting

a/n: this fic WILL be posted on my ao3, go give me some love ;) @ supernotcool

++ quick note beforehand that you don't have to read: ok so this whole fic was based off an actual day I had like, two days ago, but obviously I don't have a boyfriend or I probably wouldn't even write as much fic as I do. but I DID spend the day making a snow man with my dad and drinking hot cocoa by the fire so, all I really added was a pretty fluffy brown haired boy to make it cute and a little spicy. anyway. I just felt like telling y'all where I got my inspo from bc I personally LOVE when writers do that. anyway enjoy y'all, I hope there's not grammatical mistakes. im still new to writing fics on Tumblr so give me some feedback please!

 Finally, a day off. How long has it been since your school shut down for a snow day? Had to be two years at the very least. You had been itching for a day off for so long now, especially with all the upcoming exams you had, life had become a lot of all work and no play. Same thing goes for your boyfriend of 2 years, Tooru Oikawa. Because of his strict volleyball schedule - and having university on top of that - your boyfriend had a packed schedule. Sure, you complained about work and school, but you always knew Tooru had a much heavier weight on his shoulders than you did. Still, he always managed to seem more upbeat than anyone else you knew, he always seemed to have time for you and gave you all his attention. Which is why it was no surprise that your loving boyfriend was more than excited about today’s day off and he intended to spend every second with you.

 As if you don’t already live together…

  You were seated at the kitchen table, mug of coffee in one hand and your phone in the other. You mindlessly scrolled through instagram as you took periodic sips of your coffee, enjoying the peacefulness of your apartment. In the window next to you, a moving picture of a lovely snow storm was taking place, begging for your attention. You took your eyes off your screen for a moment to watch the storm unravel before you, it was calmer than it was last night, but the wind still certainly shook all the trees. A warm smile planted itself on your face, content with the abundance of snow you were receiving, considering its been a couple years since you last got to experience this. 

 Your blissful moment of silence was soon broken by the sound of your boyfriend, slamming the door to your bathroom open and revealing his robed body oh-so dramatically. 

 “Do you really have to make an entrance even when leaving the shower?” You asked half-bored and half-amused. 

 “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy every second of it.” Your boyfriend smugly replied, making his way over to the table with you. 

 You shook your head, biting back a grin, “You’re so humble, Tooru.”

 He giggled out an, “I know.” 

  You continued your scrolling on your phone, becoming a bit bored of it after awhile. Your boyfriend circled around the kitchen table and planted himself behind you in your chair. The familiar smell of an earthy-floral cologne mixed with fresh mint filled your nostrils as he wrapped his arms around your body lightly, letting his chin rest on your shoulder. You hummed lightly at his soft touch, becoming slightly engulfed in it.

 “You know what we’re doing today, right?” The fluffy-haired man questioned.

 “I don’t, what are we doing?” You wondered, curiously.

 “Playing in the snow obviously, duh.” Your boyfriend replied so matter-of-factly.

  You chuckled at his words, you knew he’d want to enjoy the snow today - as did you - but you weren’t expecting him to ask so early. 

 “Yes, we must, but can’t I shower and study a bit first?” 

 Your boyfriend stood up from his position abruptly, making you turn your head towards him. 

 “Y/n, under no circumstances am I letting you do school work today, it’s our one day off.” 

 “But-“ 

 “Nope, no buts.” He grabbed your arm and tugged you out of your chair, “Now come on, let’s bundle up.” 

 “Tooru-“ 

 After a solid 20 minutes of you complaining to Tooru that you still needed to shower and him assuring you that you’d much rather take a hot shower after being in the cold - he was right of course - you two managed to bundle yourselves up in a few layers of thick clothing, ready for the cold outdoors.

  Waddling down the stairs of your apartment to the front door, you struggled to put on your snow gloves, hoping and praying that no skin between materials would be exposed. Oikawa followed behind you, adjusting the fluffy beanie that covered his forehead. The two of you stood before your front door, staring at the silver door knob in anticipation. 

 “Ready?” You two asked in synchronization. 

  You giggled, then tugged the door open, exposing the blinding white scenery before your eyes. Your boyfriend smirked to himself, before unexpectedly picking you up bridal style and running out the front door, kicking the door closed with the heel of his boot. 

 “Oh my god- Tooru! Put me down you idiot.” You exclaimed, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. 

 “Not after calling me an idiot I won’t.” He smirked down at you

 “Tooooruuuu.” You whined, the noise bringing attention towards the two of you from a family in the next apartment. A couple with their two kids, who were currently making snow angels and now giggling at the sight of you and your child of a boyfriend. 

 “What’s the magic word?” The stubborn man persisted. 

 “Flatty-kawa.” You teased, only making the man’s grip on your body tighter.

 “Hey, no fair! I swear you and Iwa-chan love to mess with me.” He dropped his head sullenly, feigning sadness. 

  You rolled your eyes at your dramatic boyfriend, “Oh boo-hoo, you know you love us.” You stuck your tongue out at the end of your sentence. 

 Oikawa chuckled, then smirked once remembering his true intention of holding you like this. 

 “Oh god, what are you-“
 

  Your boyfriend responded by swinging you into a pile of snow, your body flailing in the air for a good second before plummeting to the ground with a muffled “oof”. 

  The mischievous man above you couldn’t hold in his laughter, his eyes squinted shut and his cheeks tightened as he doubled-over in hysterics at your expense. You remained in your exact position, laying flat on your back with the cushion of the snow under you as you stared up at the blue sky above you. You slowly sat up, burning death glares into the side of your boyfriends head, as he laughed so hard that he had to bend over and hold onto his knees. You took advantage of the state he was in and reached over to grab one of his legs. You tugged as hard as you could, but curse your athletic boyfriend and his very toned legs. He only laughed more at your failed attempt to trip him, but all laughter was soon dismissed as he took a step and slipped on some ice. Your idiot of a boyfriend tumbled down next to you with a frightened look in his eyes, his right arm catching his fall. 

  Now was your turn to laugh, you fell backwards onto the snow as you clutched your stomach from laughter. It took you a few seconds of controlled breathing to calm yourself down. 

  “Wow, now that was pretty funny Tooru, I have to say-“ 

  You're cut off by your boyfriend tackling you on the ground, pinning your arms down - as best as he could with gloves on - and tickling your sides. Once again, there was only so much he could do with the amount of layers you had on. Even so, you still twitched and squirmed from the contact, slapping your boyfriends strong arms to stop.

 “Please- Tooru. I’m..I’m still so out of breath from befor- NO MORE PLEASE.” He tickled you relentlessly, you were about ready to kick him in the balls before he stopped. 

 “Alright, that’s enough payback I guess.” The boy grinned from above you, clearly very happy with himself. You were too out of breath from the previous laughing plus the tickle attack to retort. 

 “Yeah, yeah.” You lifted a shaky, glove-covered hand up to caress his face. He ignored the cold feeling of the glove being pressed against his face and just smiled down at you. He leaned in slowly, lips barely brushing yours. You felt your body heat up, despite being in the snow, from his action. He teased you by not breaking the space between your lips. You tried to go in for it yourself, but he quickly pulled away, smirking down at you.

 “Tooru…” You meant to whine, but it came out as more of a breathless whisper, coated with desperation. 

 He noticed this and leaned in close again, this time kissing your cheek.

 “Hm?” He tested you. 

 “Kiss meee.” You pucker your lips for him, he couldn’t help but grin at your desperation.

 “Fine.” He gave in more easy than you expected, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was simple, it felt as if it would be quick and he would pull away, but he moved his lips rhythmically to deepen the kiss, turning it soft and sensual. You two slowly made out, your arms still pinned by his hands and your back still pressed into the snow. You only noticed then that his knee was in between your legs, had it been there before? 

  The longer you two made out, the more desperate the kiss became. Your two bodies aching for warmth had you guys grabbing at each other mindlessly. Oikawa was the one to pull away.

 “Y/n, we have a snow man to make!” The chocolate-haired boy released you from his grip as he sat up. 

  You pouted at him, clearly flustered and he knew that. Your cheeks were tinted a rosy pink, he was unsure if that was from him or the cold weather. He hoped it was him.

 “No pouting, you’ll get more of that later, I promise.” He winked at you while offering you a hand up. 

  Your eyes lit up at his words, as much as you hate to admit it. You took his hand and let him pull you up onto your feet. The two of you became preoccupied for the next 20 minutes, evidently dedicated to the snowman you were constructing. You packed while Oikawa rolled the snow, making a dream team of snowman builders. 

  After struggling to keep the second part of the snowman’s body upright - and a lot of you bossing around Tooru to help you pack more snow - you two were finally able to start forming the head.

 “Wait! Hold that thought, can you run inside and get buttons, a carrot and blueberries?” You interrupted your boyfriend’s rolling.

 “Sure thing baby, but why blueberries?” Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows.

 “You'll see don’t worry, I'll go look for sticks while you’re gone.” You rose to your feet and dusted off the snow on your pants.

  While Oikawa ran inside, you made a small trip around the outside of your apartment building, collecting a few sticks in your hands. You returned from your loop around the area to see your boyfriend exiting the house with his arms full. You jogged up to him and helped him with the items, the both of you returning to your snowman. You kneeled down and again, both of you were at work. You let Tooru smooth out the lumpy pieces of snow while you prepared your items. 

  You started with the eyes, using two black buttons. Then, proceeded with the carrot, as a nose of course. Next, the blueberries were placed one after another, curving into a smile. Lastly, you stuck the two sticks into the snowman’s body for two arms. You sat back content, admiring the work of you and your boyfriend.

 “Wait.” 

  Tooru realized that you forget the classic 3 buttons on the snowman’s torso, so he reached over and placed them himself. 

 “Beautiful, baby.” You praised your thoughtful boyfriend for his addition. 

 The two of you stood a few feet away from your snowman, arms intertwined as you admired the creation before you. Obviously, you both pulled out your phones and snapped a quick picture. 

 “Ooh, almost forgot.” You tugged your boyfriends arm to settle down onto the snow again with you, “We have to sign our artwork!”

 Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, as he had never heard of such a thing before, “Sign?” 

  You nodded, “Mhm. Me and my dad used to always make snow angels side-by-side in front of our snowman, to kinda sign it somehow. Does that make sense?” You inquired your boyfriend by looking up at him. 

  His heart absolutely melted at your sincere words, he smiled at you warmly in return. 

 “Yes baby, it makes sense.” 

  The two of you laid side-by-side in the snow, far enough apart to move your arms and legs back and forth. Once finishing, you stood up carefully - to not wreck your snow angel - and helped Tooru up too.

  You both embraced before your creations, cheek pressed to his chest as you gazed at all the love you two created. Cocoa-colored eyes flickered away from the snowy sight to bore down into yours, forever staring into each others souls. You stood on your tip-toes to place a soft kiss on your lover’s lips, one which he returned graciously. 

                                                             - 

  An hour later, Oikawa was found in the kitchen boiling a kettle of water, preparing to make you both hot chocolate. He worked diligently, adding marshmallows and whipped cream to his creations, then deciding to add a sprinkle of cinnamon too. 

  You emerged from the bathroom, hair freshly wet and combed through, but dressed warmly in a pair of sweatpants and one of your boyfriend’s hoodies. You circle the kitchen table and plant yourself behind Tooru, wrapping your arms around his firm torso. 

 “I got the fire place to work.” The boy in your hold spoke proudly.

 “Really? I knew it felt warmer in here. That’s great baby, thank you.” 

 He hummed a welcome in response, adding the last finishing touches to your drinks. 

  You pulled away as he handed you a red Christmas mug, filled to the brim with whipped cream and cinnamon. You brought the mug to your lips, noticing how your boyfriend leaned against the counter behind him, awaiting your reaction. You sipped the hot drink cautiously, enjoying the rich chocolate taste that invaded your mouth, the whipped cream and cinnamon really complemented it too. Your eyes lit up in delight, already telling Tooru that you loved it without words. 

 “Fuck, that’s delicious.” You cursed causing a chuckle from Oikawa. You always found the funniest way to say things during such soft moments, and it always amused the hell out of him. 

  You both seated yourselves on the sofa in front of your fireplace, soaking in the warmth from the flames. You sat back in the couch comfortably, the two of you intermittently sipping at your cocoas and rambling to each other about everything under the sun. After finishing your drink not long after Tooru, you placed the mug on the coffee table in front of you, then scooted yourself closer to your boyfriend. The flames of the fire had died down a little, but they were still there to keep you two warm. You wrapped your arms around your boyfriends waist and nuzzled your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his divine scent. 

 “Thank you for today, I had a lot of fun.” You mumbled softly into his skin.

 “Of course, so did I. I wanna make so many more memories like today.” Tooru confessed, nuzzling into your damp hair. 

 You looked up at him, gazing into his rich eyes once again. It often felt as though you’d never get over the way his gaze made you feel. Years and years could go by and you’d still melt under his stare. 

 “Me too, and I know we will.” 

  He smiled down at you, cheeks warm from your beauty and the burning fire 5 feet away from him. He softened the smile on his lips to fit in between yours, caressing your cheek with his hand as he enveloped your lips in a kiss. This time, the kiss didn’t end abruptly after heating up. It only got hotter and hotter, ‘till both of you pulled away breathless. The breath of air lasted a few seconds, before you grabbed his face and continued the passionate kiss again. Lips massaging each other and both mouths full of the other person’s tongue. You tugged at Tooru’s hair, eliciting a moan from him, vibrating from his body into yours. He took this action from you as a sign to pull away and begin kissing the sensitive skin on your neck. You breathed heavily at the contact, tangling your fingers in his hair even more. After a few moments of pure bliss, you felt your lover pull away. Almost disappointed, you looked up at him with furrowed brows. He simply stroked the smooth skin on your cheek and spoke so low and so soft that he was barely audible. 

 “Let’s make love by the fire tonight, darling.”

[kaminobiwan]

stargazing

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader

summary: Existential musings under the stars. Real Disney Princess moment here, folks. (Obi is the princess obviously)

a/n: The prompt demanded it be given to Padawan!Obi. I simply complied. Also, I sprinkled some of my astronomy knowledge in there, bc uni. Thank you AST 104.

This was part of my 175 follower celebration (still open), requested by the ever lovely @highcouncil! Please, for the love of all that is holy, do your Obi-Wan Kenobi-loving hearts a favor and read her amazing work. You’ll thank yourselves for it.

“That one’s the Burning Snake.”

Obi-Wan points to an ambiguous spot in the sky, his too-big robes flapping across his face. He shakes his arm, readjusting the folds, and gestures again.

“Sorry — that one.”

He hears you toss a snort over your shoulder, your back to his as you lean on each other to stay upright. Both of your necks are craned towards the constellations that dapple the ink-black backdrop blanketing Coruscant, and the night is soundless with the exception of your voices.

“Are you sure you’re remembering these right? I’m pretty sure you were reading that starmap upside-down earlier.”

“Was not,” he exclaims, though there is some truth to each of your statements. He’d quickly corrected the map before too long, and he was sure of his memorization after spending so much time in the archives. Positive.

You shift against him, seemingly placated, and he relaxes too, careful not to tug on the Padawan braid behind your ear. It’s predictably still sore after Quinlan had tangled your braids together in a practical joke only three hours ago, the two of you too engrossed in your readings to notice that the Force was being manipulated against you. It had taken fourteen minutes and half a jar of flounut butter to unravel the knots that had formed in the fray.

You gesture towards a star in the distance, and Obi-Wan follows your lead. “What’s that one, then?”

His answer comes immediately. “The Eye of the Pirate. At least make it a challenge for me.”

Your noise of lofty glee jolts him from his position, and he nearly falls flat on his back as you maneuver your body above him so that you’re face to face. Though from his point of view, you’re upside-down. “It was a trick question. The Eye of the Pirate is only visible from Corellia.”

He frowns, his hands moving to cushion his head. “No, it’s not. We can see it from here, too.”

You make an unpleasant face at him, but he thinks it’s rather cute from this angle. As soon as the thought passes through his brain, though, it’s gone. He shuffles away to hide his face from you, but you’re too close to escape.

“You’re wrong. Not every red star is the Eye of the Pirate, Obi!”

Truthfully — and it’s not just because he doesn’t want to admit he might be incorrect — he’s not sure if the star is in fact the one he claims it to be, or whether he’d mixed up Coruscant with Corellia in his studying. But he’s desperate to get out of your line of sight — even though it’s late into the evening, the moonlight pouring into the Temple garden illuminates the entirety of the landscape, and no doubt his embarrassment along with it.

Ever since you’d started to call him Obi, it was hard to handle being in close proximity to you. The physical reaction his blushing upper body always displayed was definitely not something Qui-Gon would be pleased by.

“Okay, maybe it’s not!” He retorts, and you tumble down next to him with a laugh. He blinks some of your hair out of his eyes, but doesn’t ask you to move away from the spot you’ve placed your head, snug into the juncture between his shoulder and neck. Much better.

“Enough with the quizzing, anyway.” Your murmur brings him back to the stars, and he has to remind himself not to turn his head to look at you. “Let’s just take it all in.”

“But you love quizzes.”

“Yes, when the real thing isn’t right there in front of us,” you tease, and Obi-Wan clamps his mouth shut once more. “It’s called stargazing. Not star-analyzing.”

“There is such a thing as — ”

“Shh!”

He fidgets in the grass, unsure of what to do in the silence next to you. As he connects the dots between the clusters of stars across the dark expanse, his memory supplies endless cascades of information and astronomic facts, filling his mental capacity to the point that —

“Obi-Wan.”

Your voice is hushed, as if you’ve just woken up from slumber, but he hears the slight command in your words. “Yes?”

“I can hear your thoughts from here.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

You lean up on your outside elbow, tilting towards him and tucking your hair behind your neck before it can prick the skin of his forehead. “Aren’t you the prodigy of meditation among your crèchemates? What’s wrong?”

Instead of meeting your eyes, Obi-Wan shrugs, and feigns a stretch. “Just having trouble, I guess.”

“You guess.” You echo, unconvinced, but lay back down regardless. “You’re worried about something.”

“I’m not worried, I’m restless. It doesn’t seem right to be stargazing if we’re not going to at least study them. We both have upcoming assignments, might I remind you.”

As if you could have forgotten. Your mission to Halcyon was all you’d been talking about the past week. Still, you’d gushed more over your excitement at hearing his stories than chronicling your own. Obi-Wan had promised to tell you all about the planet of Naboo upon his return to the Temple.

“You’re fretting over the trade dispute? I’m sure you’ll be able to handle the Federation representatives. Though I’ve read that Neimoidian workers regularly compete amongst themselves, and the winning team gets to eat the other — !” You catch the look he sends you out of the corner of your eye, and he allows himself a half-smile as you bashfully fall silent. “Sorry. Probably not what you want to hear right now.”

The apology wasn’t necessary. You both know it. But sometimes, he appreciates that you’d rather it still be said.

“I’m just…feeling unprepared. Luminara and Shaak Ti both faced the trials at my age, and I thought I’d be ready. But I can’t even tell if Qui-Gon thinks I am or not.” You’ve stilled beside him, but he feels you latching on to every word. “I don’t know.”

“You are ready,” you say simply.

“Yes, and if I am, then what?” He asks, to no one in particular. He knows the stars have as much a probability of knowing the future as you do. Maybe more, judging by how often Qui-Gon called to them in exasperation. “Everything changes. I can’t help but feel as though nothing will be the same, soon.”

You’re quiet for a moment, but then he hears what sounds like a chuckle from you. He raises a confused eyebrow, but doesn’t shift his body.

“Obi, of course everything will change. Nothing can stop that,” you say, reaching your fingers out and upwards. “Even the stars can’t prevent themselves from growing and dissipating. Eventually, they’ll all turn into nebulas, or supernovas, or black holes in violent implosions.” You trace an imaginary line across the air, drawing your own constellation, joining together specks that Obi-Wan imagines must be hundreds of parsecs apart. His eyes follow the pattern as you go. “You’re not a star.”

He blinks. “I’m not?”

Immediately, he wants to palm his face, because obviously he’s not a star, no matter how luminous Master Yoda professes him to be, but he just hadn’t known what you meant and now he’s gone and made himself sound like an idiot. But you continue, unfazed, as if you’d predicted he’d respond in kind.

“You’re not,” you repeat, and lower your hand down to your stomach. “You can choose what you become. You’re not born with a predestined fate. You have control.” Obi-Wan feels his body sink further into the ground, and some voice in the back of his head has the agency to surmise that you sound much wiser beyond your years right now. “What matters most is whether you take that control, or give it back to the universe.”

And now, he’s silent, because how in the name of the Force is he supposed to respond to that?

But you bound up again, high-spirited and bubbly and not nearly as prophetic as you had been a second earlier, and conclude, “At least, that’s what Master Koon says.”

He groans as you release a peal of laughter, and slumps further into the dirt. “Did you seriously just recite one of his lessons to me?”

“No! I made it much more interesting,” you clutch a hand to your chest in mock displeasure, and Obi-Wan crosses his arms. “I mean, I ad-libbed along the way, but I still meant what I said. I don’t think it’ll do you any good to worry.” As you speak, he lets his eyes unfocus towards the stars, white and yellow and blue diamonds alike blurring together in a disjointed mosaic. The tip of your nose rims the edge of his vision, and he exhales slowly with what feels like relief, though he isn’t completely sure. But you seem to be more at peace, too, and your voice even drops to a solemn resonance. “What you ask for tends to come and find you. Serenity, wisdom, trouble…”

“I’ve definitely heard him say that,” Obi-Wan muses, and he knows you’re hiding a grin next to him.

“It’s true,” you reply.

You both lay in the garden for several long moments more, until the voices of your masters can be heard calling your names.

Neither of you get up, despite it. A smile of his own creeps up his cheeks, and Obi-Wan knows you’re thinking exactly the same thing he is.

“Pretend we’re asleep so they’ll have to carry us back to the dorms?”

“Master Koon might break another arm, but yep. Worth it.”

“Worth it,” he agrees, and closes his eyes.

[locktobre]

Could you expand on your idea of Emily Willows seeing/communicating with ghosts? (sorry for asking so many questions hdhfhhdhf I really like Barbie, especially PCS)

Oh boy, that’s a doozy... I honestly don’t feel like I have very much, as I haven’t had the idea for very long, but I’ll talk about what I do have! (I guess I came up with it last year, but for me, that isn’t really a long time.)

I’ve mentioned before, but I debated for a long time about even bringing Reginald and Isabella back, bc it has a lot of implications about life and death in the barbieverse. I’m currently operating on the assumption that while ghosts can exist, as souls trapped here on the mortal plane, if they ever cross over to the great beyond--that’s it. They’re gone, for good, and can’t ever be brought back.

Now, that goes against Marie’s appearance in Christmas Carol (which I used to justify having ghosts in the first place), since she clearly wasn’t hanging around that whole time... But as I mentioned the other day, Eden is actually a lynchpin in my barbieverse (the Brilliant Echo timeline, specifically). The universe would unravel if she ended up in that bad future, so an exception had to be made for Marie to come back. It was a one-time-only deal, and not something that can be done by just anyone. Certainly not Emily, in any case. (I’m still debating on who facilitated the Marie visit, as it could be one of two ppl. It might end up being both of them working together. But that’s way down the road.)

Anyway, I joked the other day about the possibility of Emily seeing more ghosts, but honestly, I don’t think I’ll end up doing that. Having ghosts at all feels like it raises a lot of questions, and I don’t really want to open those cans of worms, so setting very rigid rules about it seems to be the best compromise. And even aside from that, I don’t think a lot of ppl would even become ghosts in the first place; I really do like the classic rules of sudden/violent deaths and/or unfinished business being the reason they stick around. So she’ll most likely only ever see Reginald and Isabella, and her power will probably never expand in any way. I could change my mind later, but right now, that’s what I’m thinking.

And also, just like... seeing the two ghosts is more than enough drama, honestly.

The way I envision Isabella is very specific, but basically, she struggled a lot with paranoia and she’s very guarded. It got worse after she died, due to her being convinced she was murdered, but she had actually made some progress due to going to a therapist for the majority of her death. (Yes, I send a ghost to therapy. Yes, her therapist knows she is dead.) She managed to get to a place of... not really no paranoia, but much less. And then, she finds out that she was, in fact murdered, so suddenly all of her fear feels VERY justified, and that’s a huge setback. So her 18 years of trying to deal not only with her anxiety but her grief over the death of her child suddenly feels like it was all for nothing. She was murdered and her baby is alive and she missed her daughter’s entire childhood.

On Reginald’s side, he had always tried to support Isabella as best he could, but the one thing he was adamant on was that his sister would not murder them. Like, she’s mean, sure, but murder? That’s a step too far. Especially after seeing her with students, he knows that she can be cruel, but killing her own brother and his family? Her queen? She wouldn’t! She couldn’t! And then he finds out that she did, so not only does he feel duped for believing that she wasn’t capable of it, he feels guilty for not being on Isabella’s side all those years. Isabella doesn’t exactly hold it against him that he didn’t believe her, since she’s well aware--especially after therapy--that her fears were not always rational, but it is kind of an ‘I told you so’ moment that neither of them ever wanted to be true. And obviously, he’d grieved for Sophia, too.

On the side of the living, Sophia is thrust into a role she never wanted and now has a million responsibilities she wasn’t prepared for, and she’s got to deal with all of the princess stuff while also having to deal with the re-opened investigation into her parents’ murders and Dame Devin’s subsequent trial. Her life isn’t her own anymore, it belongs to everyone else. And she doesn’t even know how to feel about Reginald and Isabella. And she especially doesn’t know how to deal with everyone comparing her to Isabella, her appearance, her mannerisms--is anything really her? Is this what it’s going to be like for the rest of her life, being compared to her dead birth mother that she doesn’t even remember? How is she supposed to deal with that?

So when Emily first stumbles across Reginald and Isabella, they’re still reeling. They desperately want to reach out to Sophia, of course, but they know that they’re really in no position to talk to her right away, nor is she ready to see them. Or even if they should reach out to her--would it help her to know that her parents aren’t really gone? Or would they only be serving themselves?

And there’s also the question of if Sophia is the only one they should talk to. Should Reginald tell Delancy that she still does have one family member left who’s good and believes in her capacity to change, that he knows she doesn’t have to become her mother? Should Isabella speak to her father and half-sisters, and tell them that she’s wanted to reach out to them for 18 years? The more ppl that know a secret, the greater the chance that it will get out--altho, in this case, probably no one will want to broadcast the fact that they’ve spoken to a ghost, but still.

And kind of in the middle of this is Emily, who’s 13 and in no position to be moderating this kind of discussion. She wants everyone to be able to talk to each other, for the family to be reunited, but she understands that it’s a multi-sided thing. She offers up the compromise of acting as a mouthpiece, if they don’t want to talk to anyone directly (since ghosts can manifest themselves at will, if they wish; Emily’s special bc she can see them in their state of rest), but even that doesn’t do much good. As far as anyone else knows, she’s obviously never met Reginald and Isabella, so she can’t exactly say with authority that they would be proud of Sophia, or that Isabella misses her father, or anything like that. It would just sound like a platitude.

I don’t even know what side I’m going to come down on, tbh. It’s such a multi-layered discussion, especially with Isabella and her father--he’s already grieved for her, so is it fair to tell him she isn’t (quite) dead? She now knows, firsthand, what it’s like to grieve a child and then to suddenly find out that child is alive and that she’s missed so much--and she would be putting her father in that same position. Is it selfish? Or is it more selfish to never reveal herself, especially with the way that she died angry at him, since he carries that guilt around, even if she ended up moving past it (in therapy). I may end up compromising on that front, and have Isabella write a journal or a letter, something that Emily can “discover” in the palace and pass on to Isabella’s father. Maybe.

As for Sophia... It’s trickier, but I’m leaning toward her finding out. Maybe not for awhile, it might take years, but I think they would eventually tell her. She might be the only one, tho... But then, at some point, does Nicholas need to know? Especially after they’re married, is it a secret that still needs to be kept from him? And, again, I don’t think there’s a single good answer, bc it’s just... such a weird quandary to find oneself in. There’s pros and cons to every side.

So... That’s where I am with Emily and ghosts, right now. And that’s why I feel like just the two is enough, bc it just dominoes out so quickly and becomes a LOT of emotional turmoil and moral dilemmas. As such, Emily will also end up seeing a therapist at some point, for sure, but all things considered, I think she’ll end up being remarkably well-adjusted lol.

[roominthecastle]

Ok so since you’re a believer/supporter of Agnes Gate I have this question. Lizzy’s memories were wiped, but how do you explain Red? What does he know/suspect? How do you explain his behavior? Where does he stand in all this? Hope you got my point because I’m sick and I’ve lost my ability to think clearly and transform thoughts into words 🤒😂

*cracks knuckles*

Yes, you’re coming across clearly, anon, these are all valid points/questions, and I hope you’re feeling better.

Now “believer” is a strong word but I do believe there’s enough wiggle room in current show canon to accommodate this theory. In other words (bc I really don’t want anyone to misunderstand me here): there’s still enough story space for this idea to emerge but there is no direct, overt proof that it is there or that it will.

So consider what follows NOT a proof post but a simple, albeit long AF - thought experiment that presupposes two things:

Liz and Red slept together while on the run (canonically that’s the period when Agnes was conceived)

Liz’s memory of this has been either altered or removed by Dr. Krilov

Now, behavior was, in fact, the one thing that initially put me off this theory bc I didn’t think Red would be willing to just step aside if he suspected he might be the baby’s father. BUT the following seasons revealed a couple of good reasons why he would not speak up (Kirk and the never-ending list of other hostiles, Liz’s “I hate your guts” phase, Liz clinging to Tom, Liz’s selective memory - courtesy of Krilov, fake-DG & the issue of the suitcase, an illness).

They also continued to show just how apt both Red and Liz are to not deal with stuff that’s not an immediate threat (e.g. Liz’s ‘I love you’ which they both willingly continue to just not address), and the thing is: despite not contesting paternity in any overt way, Red never actually stepped aside.

I think this paternity issue and its various complications - from Red’s perspective - can be separated into 4 major time blocks:

S3B

S4

S5A

S5B–present

Even if there’s a reason for Red to think he might be Agnes’ father, I don’t believe he works off anything more than mild suspicions in the S3B–S5A period.

During this time, his relationship with Liz is rapidly unraveling and several other roadblocks and threats emerge that likely discourage him from openly broaching this issue. Then he gets to raise Agnes for 10 months, which provides the perfect opportunity to safely run a paternity test and maybe even another genetic screening (they made a point of telling us that baby Agnes was getting a standard one back in S3 + it was emphasized how having the correct info about her parents’ medical history is crucial for accurate testing - info Tom couldn’t provide). The beginning of Red’s collaboration with Dr. Stark roughly dates back to the time period when he had Agnes with him. If Red has a hereditary (late-onset) illness, he could have been driven to seek a cure once the tests confirmed his suspicions, and he’s now testing it on himself to make sure it works and is safe before giving it to Agnes.

IF.

– more on all this behind the cut – (apologies, mobile users)

- [ S3B ] -

Confirmation of the pregnancy is a wedge between Liz and Red, and it’s Red who screws up first when he rejects the baby right off the bat and tries to bury himself in work. It understandably hurts Liz and the tense tone of their interactions begins to snowball. The main issue concerning Red’s behavior in S3B, right after Liz tells him that she’s pregnant and he bounces back from his initial rejection, is that he becomes “suffocating” and more committed than ever to keep her and the baby in his orbit (which also alarms and later sets off Mr. Kaplan). Red has little sense of boundary, he starts isolating Liz, and he barely tolerates Tom’s presence. When he makes an effort to tolerate him, that’s bc he is trying his best to respect Liz’s choices/wishes (just like in “Ruin”) regardless of his own feelings, but it doesn’t prevent him from repeatedly trying to push Tom out of the picture. He saves him from going to prison but he still has a hard time dealing with Liz having a close relationship with him. This also echoes his original plans for Tom: being there for her but also keeping his distance. This, in turn, echoes his original “invisible benefactor” role he cast himself in (and both of them clearly crossed these lines as the years went by – more on this later).

Despite telling her that he’s known about the pregnancy for some time, Red does not act out until after Liz doesn’t deny that Tom is the father. Red knew about the pregnancy already, he had weeks to vent and get used to the idea, so his spiraling is kind of puzzling unless it’s not the pregnancy itself that sets him off. The only thing he wasn’t sure about was paternity (why?), so the only emotionally logical reason for his weird spiral is that part of him was still hoping that the baby was not Tom’s (tho, in theory, nobody else was in proximity other than the two of them + a more closer look at the timeline reveals that Tom was, in fact, nowhere near Liz when the baby was conceived).

But when Liz didn’t deny it, that’s when it became too much for Red: he didn’t want to have a child (for several reasons) but what he wanted even less was Tom to be confirmed as the father. Then his entire outlook on this subject changes by the end of the episode (after reminding himself how Katarina, too, dreaded having a baby but changed her mind completely). This also brings that Samar/Aram conversation to mind where she tells Aram how being around him changed her attitude towards having children, but now she cannot raise one bc of her condition.

But back to 312 and the “I’m pregnant” moment:

This whole conversation is just weird. Red is tense from the moment he sees Liz at the Post Office, then feeds her the answer to his own question, presenting it as a statement: “I assume Tom is the father.” Why not just give her the opportunity to name him? What this feels like is him giving her an out instead, and his closed-off, prickly, I-am-being-very-inconvenienced-by-this behavior (and Tom’s enthusiasm) is practically willing Liz to take it. And she hesitates for a moment, then instead of saying “yes” she just says, “I haven’t told him yet.” And this is where Red’s barely civil behavior veers into total assholery rejection, then he does a 180 at the end of the episode. By then Liz is sufficiently pissed off and is already pushing him away and sliding back into Tom’s arms. So in many ways ep 312 is where things truly turn and then get worse, and it all happens over Tom, essentially.

After this fallout, we get the episode where Red is thinking back to Josephine who was maneuvered into marrying an abusive scumbag for strategic reasons (as usual, we have parallels too). It was all arranged by a third party, which reminds me of Mr. Kaplan referring to Tom as her “confidant”, which makes me wonder about the extent of their off-screen interaction. Mr. Kaplan was doing everything to tear Red and Liz apart bc she saw that bond as fatal to both and a danger to the baby. Maybe she arranged that 2nd session w/ Krilov (who might have planted images that switched Red and Tom like he did w/ the fire memory where the roles were switched around), then she tipped Tom off, urging him to rekindle his relationship w/ Liz (his proposal was so out of the blue, I still don’t know what to do w/ that).

When Liz wants to give up the baby for adoption, she is told that she has to discuss this with the father, too, as his consent is also needed. Liz says the father is busy with work, then she has 0 conversation about this w/ Tom and goes to Red who, now being very pro having the baby, tries to talk her out of it. He also sabotages Tom’s teacher job and, at the same time, swoops in and presents Liz with a trust fund he set up for the baby, insisting that it’s for the child. As far as symbolic actions go, this one is screaming “I am the provider, not him”. And if it’s not clear enough, he also spells it out by telling her Tom’s not worthy of being her husband and of raising the baby. But it’s too late. Liz rejects him and clings to Tom. She even re-watches the video of Tom being interviewed as a potential adoptive father, which we saw in S1. Liz has been show to chat with potential adoptive parents, so her watching Tom’s adoption agency interview kinda makes it look like she picks Tom to “adopt” Agnes.

S3B is the time period when the threat from Kirk starts emerging. Mr. Kaplan also begins to view Red and Liz’s bond as sth to sever and Red himself as a threat to Agnes, saying that the baby hasn’t even been born yet but is “already paying the price for her association” with him. Then Liz kicks Red out when he asks to see the newborn baby, and soon after Liz’s “death”, Tom tells him that Agnes would only need protection if Red remained in her life. The three of them manage to gaslight Red to such an extent that he completely breaks down. He begins to contemplate ending it all and wanders around, cataloging the reasons.

And that episode-long contemplation is where we get to see (his version of) Katarina in this exact position, her pain at losing the man she loved at a time when there was so much anger and tension btw them, at not being able to raise her daughter, and all her reasoning for committing suicide (all paralleling Red’s). We can also glimpse Red’s innermost thoughts/feelings regarding Liz, Agnes, and Tom. He says “her mother is dead. All she has is the father.” Somehow he cannot bring himself to call Tom “her father” and this is reflected in future real-life interactions w/ Tom as well, when he switches between calling Agnes “Elizabeth’s child” and “your daughter” in his presence. Liz similarly switches btw calling Agnes “my” and “our” around Tom, and initially she refuses to refer to Agnes as anything but “my baby” even after Tom corrects her. It’s almost like both she and Red need some time to adjust. She does. Red? not so much.

Dom further adds to Red’s crushing guilt by reminding him how his choices doomed Liz like they doomed Katarina before. But then he also reminds him that he still has a reason to live as there are others out there who depend on him (“God help them.” - I LOVE Dom). So Red returns to make sure Agnes is safe and to exact vengeance for Liz’s death, two goals which are tied in his mind as he claims that the only way to protect Agnes is by killing Kirk who’s responsible for Liz’s death. He makes a deal with Tom: he lets him participate in the hunt in exchange for being allowed to spend time with Agnes. Again, this whole exchange has a vibe of negotiating visitation rights.

And Red’s interactions w/ Scottie give us a feel for why he will not argue much in the future when Liz decides to pick her to look after Agnes: Red calls Scottie “a brilliant strategist” who - despite Red’s visceral dislike of her - is a suitable “guard” as long as she believes Agnes to be her granddaughter. So not giving any reason to undermine that belief is in the little girl’s best interest (for now).

- [ S4 ] -

This is a period dedicatedto the overarching theme of “truth vs. appearances”, and we have afew interesting ideas and info snippets introduced that can help furtherexplain Red’s behavior if (he suspects that) Agnes is his.

First of all, we meet Kirkand gain some insight into the relationship dynamics of the past - dynamicswhich reflect those in the present.

Mirroring is a curiousfeature that’s utilized right at the beginning, in 401. It’s briefly touchedupon (here) but what makes the Red-Kirk-Liz scene especially interesting isthat the mirroring btw this exchange and the Red-Tom-Agnes one in “CapeMay” is not merely visual but also verbal, giving some weight to thesuspicion that they are linked by design. In both scenes we have the“designated dad” in a room with his daughter while the real father(Red is not Liz’s father but in 401 he “stands in” for real Reddington) is separated and looking in from the outside. On top of that, the dialogues are verysimilar, too:

Red (401): Are you okay? || Red (319): She’ll need protection.Kirk (401): Unlike you, I’d never hurt my own daughter. || Tom (319): Only ifyou are in her life.

And to push it even further,Kirk’s words (“What I desire is to raise my child. To watch hergrow.”) reflect Red’s innermost wish he voices in 319: “ I’d giveanything to be a part of that child’s life […] see her, hold her, watch hergrow.” And this also echoes Liz’s fantasy she shares with Red when theyare on the run. And Red’s retort to Kirk in 401 (“She was never yours toraise.”) also matches Red’s dance around the issue of Agnes’ paternity in319 where he refuses to directly call Tom her father, paralleling Katarina’s pain that she feels due to being separated from her daughter.

So I think what we can statewith certainty here is that there is confusion around paternity inboth scenes.

As the season unfolds, we dolearn that Kirk was a “cover dad”, designated as such by Katarina formultiple reasons (that happen to match Liz’s reasons for wanting to“escape” Red in S3 and be with Tom instead):

best chance at a normal life: Kirk did not work as an agent or any kind ofoperative, he had a (relatively) stable life in Russia. Katarina wasmarried to him and they lived together until real Reddington, believing Mashato be his daughter, took their daughter back to the US.

safety: asRed put it, “Your safety was guaranteed because Kirk believed you to behis daughter.” This belief was cemented in by a fake DNA report andentries in Katarina’s journal where she writes about their relief that Mashawon’t be exposed to the genetic illness that plagues Kirk’s family as it canonly be inherited by sons.

“no other path”: despite loving Reddington, Katarina accepted that she was never gonna endup with him. The circumstances were forever against them. This is why she began distancing herself from him and this is why she didn’t want to know ifhe was Masha’s father.

If Katarina had written apro/con list for her baby, I bet it would have looked a lot like the one Liz wrote, exceptit would have said “Kirk????” instead of “Tom????” But, as Redtold Liz, being Katarina’s husband didn’t make Kirk her father, which is apotentially relevant observation given how Liz kept trying to marry Tom at allcosts to force a “normal family” into existence that was never more than anillusion + how she was trying to distance herself from Red.

Those three main reasons abovealso provided the motivation for a cover-up that Kirk refused to acceptas the truth until multiple tests confirmed it when he fell ill and needed agenetic donation from a blood relative. As Red pointed out, “You saw whatKatarina wanted you to see.” This also echoes Mr. Kaplan’s words to Red atthe end of S3: “You saw what we needed you to see.” which might godeeper than “merely” faking Liz’s death and could be a hint at Kaplan’srole in arranging the 2nd memory manip session with Krilov.

In this season, Red alsostruggles with appearance vs. truth, with the cost/benefit ratio of deceptionsand false assumptions. This happens indirectly when he “auditions” hisnew cleaners in a pristine white apartment where one of his friends wasmurdered. He is both upset and marvels at how clean everything looks –“your cleaners removed even the memory of his blood”.

This practicality takes on asymbolic meaning as it carries over into Red’s relationship with Mr. Kaplanwhom he calls his confessor: “every trespass I committed, expunged.Cleansed as if it never happened.” Mr. Kaplan claims that Red betrayed Lizand held her “emotionally hostage”. These are rather extreme accusations… unless Red and Liz slept together while on the run and Redconfessed this to Mr. Kaplan. Now that act could be easily and understandablyconsidered trespassing by her, a crossing of a line that never should have beencrossed (= a betrayal). Red felt rage when he learned that Tom had become intimate with Liz. He considered this a betrayal, too, and Tom an immediate threat. He went about correcting the situation the same way Mr. Kaplan goes about correcting Red’s behavior in S3B-S4. Perhaps the trigger was the same type of trespassing too.

Mr. Kaplan makes it her mission to separate Liz and Red,and it all begins back in S3, around the time somebody hired Dr. Krilov to takecertain memories from Liz. Red is very close to directly confessing his feelings for Liz in 302. If he ended up confessing that he’s in love with her and they ended up in bed, that can be considered “a truth” about him that Liz uncovered – a truth that someone who doesn’t want them to be together would definitely object to.

Mr. Kaplan urges Liz to “do what yourmother never had the courage to do: walk away from Raymond.” IF Red and Liz slepttogether and Agnes was the result, then Dr. Krilov’s 2nd memory manipulationdid what Red’s cleaner(s) did in the white apartment: the “trespass” got “expunged”. Even the memory of it.Truth became elusive and assumptions took its place (like “I assume Tom is thefather.”).

Red is trying to complete a white puzzle in the white apartment,which takes on potential relevance after we can hear him compare memory toa jigsaw puzzle in 514. The possible relevance? Maybe he’s wondering (puzzled, if you will ;) why Lizacts as if nothing happened between them on the run, as if her memory of it were wiped clean. And while it is undoubtedly simpler and safer thisway, and it’s best to leave that topic alone, it is hard for him to accept, esp with Tomin the picture and taking on roles Red wishes to be able to fill, roles Liz now rejects him in.

In this episode we can also hear Gale make a pointed, suggestive remarkto Liz about her time with Red in S3A: “What was it like on the run withhim? Did he charm you?” And all this happens while Mr. Kaplan is hell-benton tearing Red and Liz apart for the sake of all of their safety, claiming thatRed’s presence in their lives is a threat to Agnes, Liz, and also to himself.

Memory manipulation - or the presence of holes in one’s memory - has itsown “footprint” in the show. It usually manifests as images drifting outof focus and echoing voices. There are two instances where this happens to Liz with no apparent reason. One is in 308 when she is in a gas stationbathroom - already pregnant - staring at her reflection in the dirty mirror. The other is in 317when Red marches towards her in the church, calling out her name and interrupting her and Tom’s wedding -both are situations where her baby’s father and her husband are likely on her mind. In317 she even connects the two by saying she wants to build a life with thefather of her child and Red keeps pleading with her to not marry Tom.

We are periodically reminded that Red is a Proust fan, and Proustjust happens to be the author of À la recherche du temps perdu (In Search of Lost Time) - a monumentalexploration of the various connections that web reality, perception, and memorytogether. The concept of involuntary memory originates from this novel series,and we can see this in action on The Blacklist, too, when Liz’sburied memory of the night of the fire gets triggered in 222. It’s also possible that she was close to being triggered in those twoscenes mentioned above, and maybe she won’t even need Krilov’s help in regaining the memories she’s lost the 2nd time as they could also be triggered unexpectedly by the smallest, most random thing - a smell, a taste, a voice, a gesture.

The white apartment incidentalso coincides with Liz, Agnes, and Tom moving to a new apartment. Redhas a hard time adjusting to this change, to no longer being able to see Agneswhenever he wants (and he was visiting her regularly while they were in his safe house, always showing up w/ the request to see her in particular), which brings the downside of deception into focus: separation. And Redstruggles with this despite understanding the safety that lies in it and inhiding truths - something Katarina knew a lot about, as well.

It’s not surprising that he soon starts musingabout the importance of truth (in 412):

“You said something before. The truth doesn’t matter, that the only thing in this world that matters is just the appearance of truth. I fear you might be right about that. Lately I find that the truth has become… so elusive. Often imaginary. But in the end, it’s all that we’re left with, isn’t it? What is real, what you can taste and touch and feel. The words that pass between us as we look each other in the eye are… all we have to hold on to. The truth. I hold it dear.”

then he proceeds to make a cuckoo clock forAgnes in the following episode (x, x). His first remark on how he is no longercomfortable with the idea of dying at any second also pops up in 412, and itgets reaffirmed in 415, in the same episode where the bad guy of the weekexpresses the same sentiment: his reason for clinging to his miserable life is fatherhood andhe wants a family even if he is barred from being physically present in their lives.

Red faces this issue, too. Tom remains Agnes’ (designated)dad and Liz’s husband while he is now kept away. He stillkeeps prodding that family unit, though, keeps teasing Tom about his pastand keeps involving him in missions to strip away his thin veneer of “normaland safe” to prove to Liz that she is mistaken about him. (sidenote: Tom also“takes over” the sentiment of Liz - and Agnes - being his future; thisis Red’s “thing”, has been since S1)

Meanwhile, Red keepsflip-flopping between accepting Mr. Kaplan’s accusations and rejecting them (“Maybe I am the person you need protection from.” vs “She was wrong to think Elizabeth and Agnes were safer without me in their lives.”). Hecannot seem to make up his mind as others join the chorus of blaming him forhow badly things turned out.

This is also the seasonwhere Red has an awkward and out-of-the-blue exchange with Cooper about thelatter’s sick daughter (414), and in another ep (404) - one featuring a parentand child sharing the same disorder - Red is asked point blank if he has achild with special needs but he doesn’t answer.

His personal struggle with appearancevs truth, however, is temporarily suspended when Liz blindsides him with the DNA test in 422. Despite his visible discomfort, Reddoesn’t correct Liz’s false assumption because it happens to provide theperfect cover he so desperately needs to find the skeleton Mr. Kaplan unearthed.But this strategic move comes with the price of having to keep his silenceabout Agnes for the foreseeable future. Thanks to Mr. Kaplan’s parting gift andCooper’s (accidental?) “antidote” of running that DNA test and providing cover, Red is now backed into a corner where the only way topreserve his secret is by not challenging appearances.

- [ S5A ] -

this block is nestledbetween two high-impact turning points: the DNA test and Tom’s death. The DNAtest locks Red into a false role, that of Liz’s father, which holds throughoutS5 and to a lesser extent in S6. The only reprieve is the 10-month period duringwhich he gets to take on the role of father in Agnes’ life (=inhabiting thetruth). Liz spends this time unconscious, which I find quite symbolic, as well (her being not conscious of his true role).

The DNA test is both a curseand a blessing. Red undoubtedly enjoys the sudden warming of his relationship with Lizbut he clearly does not enjoy her referring to him as “father”. Everytime it happens, we can see him wince, cringe, or glare in silence. But it happensto be the perfect cover for him to keep searching for the skeleton since it preventsLiz from asking the very questions he doesn’t want her to wonder about.

So Liz confrontinghim with the DNA test closes the window of opportunity Red still had in S3B andS4 to contest paternity. This turn of events also forces him to prioritizepreserving his secret over almost everything else (he is only ready to give it up when he thinks Liz’s life is at stake), so the struggle we can see him having in S4 - the onebtw appearances and the truth - promptly takes a back seat as keeping upappearances becomes the #1 strategic necessity.

That being said, Red still onlydoes the bare minimum (= not denying it outright) to play father to Liz. And this time block brings some interesting remarks about geneticsand secrets, which may have more significance than simply serving as empty redherrings until the impostor reveal hits at the end of the season.

Smokeydrops some comments about being “just like daddy” and having “noway to avoid the family curse” because “DNA is what it is.” Onthe surface this ties into the (beyond grating) tendency of some characters to blame-shiftand refuse to take any responsibility for their shitty life choices. But what makesthis exchange stand out is the wording “family curse” becauseKatarina uses a similar phrase (“this accursed disease that has afflicted his family for generations”) to describe Kirk’s condition.In 506, Tom also remarks to Red that “family secrets” always comeout. And now Red is sick and is in need of a pioneering geneticist’s help to find a cure. Somehow I don’t believe this is all just coincidence. + judging from those (brief) (glimpses) we get at Agnes, she is already a lot like her dad. ;)

Ep 504 in particularhas some curious details because they don’t line up with Red and Liz’s pretendrelationship but they do line up with the idea of Red having “a familycurse” that puts Agnes at risk. In this episode, asoldier gives up her child to get him out of harm’s way, but when the child presentswith an incurable disorder, she takes him from his adoptive parents, thencommits suicide to provide the donor heart needed to save his life. Witnessing this,Red remarks that “given the same circumstances, I’d like to think I’d beas brave as her. I know I’d wanna be.”

And then Tom dies, Liz endsup in a coma, and Red is left to take care of Agnes. If she is his, this 10-month period gives Red the perfect opportunity to finally confirm it and, asI mentioned above, have her tested for whatever disorder he knows he - and thus she too -carries. The timeline is always tricky on this show but by my rough estimateRed invested in Dr. Stark’s gene hacking research around the time he still had Agnes or not long after.

- [ S5B–present ] -

In this period, Red shouldalready have confirmation about paternity, about whether or not Agnes is atrisk, and Dr. Stark is already working on the cure for both. However, theskeleton and all the threats attached are still out there, circling them, and Liz is stillunder the impression that he is her father, which Red cannot push back againstif he is to keep his main secret secret.

We’ve seen how far he is willing to go tokeep his identity hidden, so letting Liz believe he is her father is really notall that out there for this guy. Only life-and-death situations can push him to reveal certain things, so it might be unruly genetics that will end up forcing his hand this time around. If Agnes needs treatment, that’s gonna be tricky to administer w/o somebody eventually noticing.

Red is still in a false role for now but its confines have weakened since he realized that Liz now knows he used to be someoneelse.

WhenLiz decides to go away for a while and entrusts Agnes to Scottie, Red questionsbut eventually goes along with her decision. “It was what youwanted,” he tells her later on. Even locked in his assumed role hecould have dug his heels in and claimed that he had a say in this matter, but he letLiz make the decisions and respected them. It carried way more risk to let her disappear alone than to let Scottie take Agnes, yet Red did not argue and did notrepeat the mistakes he made in S3B when things got so out of hand, Liz began toresent him and he was genuinely worried he was suffocating her. So he did what everybody toldhim to do in S4: he let her - and Agnes - go. And then she came back to him.

But for now, it is best if Agneshas safe distance from both him and Liz. In 520, Red told Jennifer that she was notabandoned but protected. That’s Agnes, too. Red may detest Scottie but he doesacknowledge that she is an excellent strategist with the skills, insight,motivation, and resources to keep the little girl safe. Shebelieves her to be her granddaughter, which - imo - in Red’s book ensures her loyaltyno matter how he feels about her otherwise. And in ep 512, we can see that Redknows exactly where Agnes is and, knowing him, he has his own invisiblemultilayered security web in place, monitoring everyone in Agnes’ life 24/7 and sendingdaily reports to him.

Whenhe and Liz observe Agnes from a distance at the end of the episode, the topic oftruth once again emerges, making it the third time that Agnes and talk of“the truth” co-occur: one is earlier in this episode (“If I misseven one more day with [Agnes] than is absolutely necessarybecause you’re not being completely honest…”)and the other is the cuckoo clock scene in S4. Red tells Liz heknows how hard this separation is and that they want the same thing here, whichechoes his remark in S4 about how they are in lockstep where Agnesis concerned. It also reminds me ofhis stunned reaction when Liz shares her fantasy with him in S3 (“I’mwalking in a park with my husband. Inbetween usis our little girl. I’mholding her hand in mine… and Inever let go.”). They do want the same thing and they are on the same page about Agnes, but everything else is still in disarray. For now, there is safetyin separation and keeping up appearances, even uncomfortable and painful ones.

In 514, Red gives us and Liz areminder when he points out that in the criminal underworld you can neverreveal how important someone is to you without making them an instant target. Theshow continues to provide examples of this specific danger, and the cases thatdirectly touch upon this topic “borrow” elements from Red’s situation: in518, Mosadek’s son is abducted by business associates because they suspect himof being an informant, and in 610, criminals attempt to extort money from a fatherwhose daughter was born premature with a condition to which there was no cureat the time, so the father came up with one.

Ep605 is extra curious because it features the story of a guy who never knew hisfather and only learned about his identity when he was unexpectedly summoned to the readingof his will. Van Ness was fighting an illness, too, and decided to change hiswill to include his only son that nobody even knew about. His last written message to himwas: “I loved your mother but didn’t have the courage to stay withher.” Van Ness’ seat and vote in an international criminal syndicate are also automaticallytransferred to his heir, making him a target for various reasons. It’s also a reminder of what kind of dangerous entanglements thechildren of international criminals have to deal with once their family ties arerevealed. In this episode, we also get a reminder from Aram that “in arelationship, the truth always comes out.” and Dembe continues toplead with Red to be honest with Liz, tell her the truth and leave the rest to fate. Red, however, stubbornly keeps his silence.

Theparallels btw Red/Liz and Samar/Aram also continue in S6, and what Samar tells Aram in 613has potential relevance to deciphering Red’s perspective and reasons for not speaking up about Agnes. Samar says that she made peace with the idea that she was never gonna havechildren (back in S3, she told Liz she picked career over family) but meeting Aram changed everything. After that, she wanted nothingmore than to try and balance the two, to build a family with him. But now that she knows she has anirreversible condition, she cannot raise a child, and she feels he deservesmore than what she can give.

Ifeel all these sentiments also play a role in how Red evaluates the possibilities of hisrelationship with Liz (even if Agnes is not his). His initial reaction to the baby was rejection,remarking that a child would make their difficult work infinitely harder. But then he changed his mind. In 319, he confessed that hewould give anything to be able to raise Agnes but he was also painfully aware of the factors preventing him from realizing this wish.“Your baby deserves more than we can provide,”Mr. Kaplan told Liz right at the moment she decided to separate her from Redfor good. This idea also emerges in 614, when Red notices Liz staring at thephoto of herself with Katarina, and tells her that the photo represented everythingKatarina wanted but couldn’t have after she became a hunted woman. Being a fugitive himself, Red facesthe exact same problem. And now he alsohas an illness to overcome, so him having the same attitude as Samar - i.e. writing himself off as notbeing a suitable match and accepting not being with “the one” - feels right on the mark, imo. Katarina also shared in this heartbreak where realReddington and their daughter were concerned. She, too, had to let go of what she really wanted.

bottom line (bc it’s time to wrap this up): everything that’s happened since Liz confronted Red with the pregnancynews has been discouraging him from “coming out” as Agnes’ father:

initial uncertainty regarding paternity

Liz’s growing resentment towards him that culminated in a faked death

Tom + Liz choosing him over and over again coupled w/ Red starting to accept that Tom somehow makes Liz happy while he only manages to bring pain and hardship into her life

the constant threats and Red’s growing worry that he might indeed be athreat to Agnes and Liz

the unexpected DNA report that was also the perfect cover

Red’s emerging health issues

Liz’s missing memories (without which how would he even begin to explain it or have any hope she will not freak completely or worse?)

But we are in a period now where there is tangible improvement regarding these main issues. Red now knows whether or not he’s Agnes’ father, so that uncertainty is gone. Tom is dead. Liz’s resentment subsided and she knows Red is an imposter yet loves him anyway and told him so. He also knows about Krilov’s 2nd interference that explains some of Liz’s behavior. His illnessis being treated, too. But the risks and threats in their lives still remain. For now they are mitigating this by staying away from Agnes, but if theimprovements hold, hopefully the time will come when this issue of paternity - along with some other questions - can be broughtforth and sorted between the two of them.

[parkjmini]

Precarious // 7

mafia!bts: park jimin precarious: adj. dangerously insecure or unstable Psychotic, that’s how he viewed himself. He was a precise hitman who never made a mistake, until now. Set on an all kill mission, he brings back more than just blood stains. word count: 2183 warnings: explicit language, fluff? maybe?? 

[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] 7 [ 8 ]

summer is here now so i hope i will be able to update more frequently ((: pls let me know if i should add smut to this story bc im torn ive never written it b4 but it could fit well in some parts ??!!

The many floors disappeared under your feet. The elevator shooting up smoothly. The glass was clear all around you. Tiny people scattered below and became out of sight. The elevator was rather frightening because it was window all over, even under your shoes.

It stopped and a ding noise caught your attention. Jimin was on his phone the entire time, scrolling through emails and text messages. Several business men stepped inside, carrying briefcases and neck ties secured at their collars. Another stop followed with another ding. The elevator was slowly becoming crowded. 

The men eyed you with a mischievous glisten. An uncomfortable chill ran down your spine and you followed their many eyes to your slightly exposed chest. The dress was cut low, but Jimin said he really liked you in it. 

Peering over, Jimin was still glued to his cell. He felt your pleading stare and he looked up. His eyebrows knitted together at your expression of help and slyly checked the other expressions of the business men. 

Rolling his eyes, he scooted over in front of you and blocked the view of anyone else. His chest was pressed up against yours. Your eyes drinking up his own. His scent wrapped around you. His arm was placed at the side of your head, the other holding his phone so he can continue his previous business.

It was the first time you’ve been so close to him. Even sleeping, you two kept a good distance away from another. This position though, there was no personal space. You were so close that you felt his soft pulse of his heart; you could see every pore on his porcelain face. 

Your back was pressed up against the glass window to make room for Jimin to squeeze in front of you. As he was distracted by his device, you rested your head in the crook of his neck. His cologne filled your nose, musky and cool. He tensed up and turned his head to gazed upon your sudden affection.

He gulped and looked away. He shoved his phone into his back pocket and drew you closer, which you didn’t think was even possible. His hand held you by your arm and his cheek pressed against the top of your head.

You two stood like that for a few more floors and you contemplated about what your new life has become, how you ended up in Jimin’s arms.

“When you said you were going to take me somewhere, I didn’t know you meant you were going to take me out to lunch.” You whispered across the fancy dining table that was draped with a beautiful pearl tablecloth.

He smiled and you pretend that it didn’t shock you. His grin was stunning; the right amount of elegance and charm traced his curve. “Why are we whispering?” He leaned forward as well to answer you, his voice never above a hush.

The restaurant was at the very top floor with massive windows instead of walls. The other diners wore lavish dresses and nice suits. You sat with Jimin in a white sundress and him in a casual hoodie and black ripped jeans. It was relatively quiet, the only noise being the jazz music that played softly in the background.

“Are you sure we won’t get kicked out for under dressing?” You glanced around as a waiter approached your table. 

“I don’t think they’d dare to.” Jimin relaxed into the red cushioned chair. The waiter unraveled your silver utensils from their cloths and carefully arranged them next to the plate.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Park. How may I be at your service?” He bowed and you couldn’t hide your amusement. Jimin smirked and folded his hands in his lap.

“The usual and strawberry champagne in the cooler.” The waited nodded and hurried away.

“Well if I knew it was going to turn out like that, I wouldn’t have regretted wearing this dress.” You groaned.

“Aren’t you use to this though? This kind of treatment shouldn’t be new for you.” Jimin shaded and you glared at him before answering.

“Yeah, but my parents always made us dress up despite the occasion. They said that we would get kicked out if we showed up in casual wear. Also, I’ve been stuck in your mansion for the past month that, I guess, I’ve forgotten how it feels to be treated like a high class individual.” You shot back and the only reaction he gave was a yawn.

“But it’s still nothing new. This doesn’t stray far from your previous life.” 

“It’s a little different. I’m sure my family wasn’t as A-list as you guys are.” 

“We’re only A-listers because they know we won’t hesitate to kill them. They’re scared of us.” Jimin kept his voice low and his eyes hooded.

“I’d be scared of you too if I knew the crimes your gang commits.” You said before the waiter came back with a bottle of champagne. He poured it into your tall wine glasses and you could swear you saw the same sparkling bubbles in Jimin’s dark eyes. The bottle of stars reflected against his, thirsty to devour. The universe swimming in the pool of dark brown. It made you forget how hard he shaded you. 

“Strawberry, what a funny choice of flavor.” You sipped the liquid, a strong fruity taste hit your palette and the sweetness covering every inch of your mouth.

“You did say you like fruity drinks.” He remembered from last night. You hid your growing smile behind your fist, afraid that he’d see how happy he just made you. 

Throughout lunch, Jimin couldn’t help, but fidget underneath the table. His sweaty palms twitched at the sight of a loose strand of hair or when your hand was across the table. He craved to touch you again, to be so close he could hardly breath anything else, but your slight fragrance. 

He’d wish days like these would last forever. Jimin could spend hours listening to you speak. He wouldn’t mind staying with you for an eternity, if only you would ask him to. Being in your company relaxed him more than any method of meditation that Namjoon made him practice. 

Your smile, the lovely expression that he hoped to never leave your face. How stunning you looked with creases around your eyes and lines drawn on your cheeks. Thinking about you only fed the flame because it only made him want to be with you. Touching you was a whole different story. 

Feeling your pulse and soft skin under his palms thrilled him uncontrollably. His dopamine levels surpassed the standard high. It was almost unbearable, but how he only wanted more of it. Holding you felt better than killing and that was a feeling he thought nothing would ever top. He often wondered how he would feel if he kissed you. However, those thoughts didn’t last long because it scared him. If he already felt so good by your simple touch, kissing you would make him explode. He wouldn’t be able to control himself. 

After lunch, Jimin drove for hours up a mountain to arrive at a meadow. The clouds were scattered and resembled white streaks in a blue background. A warm breeze ran against your unclothed arms and carried your hair with it. There was nothing, but tall grass and flowers. Hills rose and fell at the horizon. The empty space that surrounded you stretched so far. Civilization was nowhere. Just you, Jimin, and an open area to yourselves.

“What is this place?” You took off your shoes and dangled them from your fingers. You stepped off the rocky road, and onto the soft dancing field. Jimin observed how you twirled in your enticing dress and giggled with complete joy — the happiest he’s ever seen you. So entirely free and let go. So enchanted by nature and wonder.  

“My… well, now, our secret place.” Jimin correct himself shyly and joined you. He allowed the wind to cast him toward you. You lent out your hand for him to take it and with a small hesitation, he took it. Pulling him forward, you guiding him in a simple two-step spin. 

“How did you find it?” You managed to ask in the midst of laughs.

“I drive around a lot to find a perfect place to do meditation.” 

You stopped and jumped. “You meditate?!” Your voice echoed into the vast land that captured you two.

He nodded and you proceeded to plead, “please teach me.”

Jimin walked you deeper into the meadow, to the point where even his car and the road were out of sight. You sat down, criss-crossed, on a random spot on the ground. Jimin followed, sitting directly across from you, and you mimicked what he did with his hands.

“Now, you just close your eyes. Deep breaths and focus on the noises around you.” Your eyes were closed and Jimin saw how your eyebrows creased, concentrating hard on the sounds. 

After a few quiet seconds, you burst into laughter, no longer able to keep the serious facade. Jimin’s laughter mixed in splendidly with your own. 

You opened your eyes and looked behind him, “this is quite a marvelous view.” But even though you thought the view was pretty, Jimin thought you were prettier. 

The two of you must have been there for a really long time. You had watched the sun go down and the baby blue was washed out with a darker, navy sky. The clouds turned into specks of glimmer, reminding you of the champagne you had earlier. 

Jimin laid down next to you, his eyes glued to the galaxies above. The wind flew away and now, you were left with a warm stillness.

“You were right. I do like it here.” You whispered. 

“You’re very predictable.” He answered back. Turning over, you glared at him.

“Oh, am I?” You enticed and Jimin didn’t even bother to acknowledge your new position. He nodded, his head ruffling the grass. 

You had no idea what had come over you, but you kissed him. At first, it was merely to prove a point. But then, Jimin’s hands traveled to your face and you didn’t want him to let go. You didn’t want him to pull away. 

There was a rapid escalation, something that neither one of you could handle. Jimin became passionate and slightly opened his mouth to take you in. He moved, still connected, to be over you. Your back fell to the grass and Jimin held onto your waist. 

A loud ring broke the heated trance, but Jimin didn’t budge. He continued to kiss you, gripping onto every part of your body that he could hold onto. You pulled his collar closer, afraid that he would suddenly stop. Neither one of you cared about the other person on the line, who was urgently trying to come in contact with Jimin.

It was only until whoever it was kept calling and his phone kept going off. “J-Jimin.” You pushed at his shoulders. He groaned aggressively and pulled away. He hovered over you still, just staring down at you. 

You probably looked like a big mess, both of you were breathing so heavily. Your heart rate slowed down from the intense intimate scene. The ringing continued and Jimin, obviously angered and annoyed, pulled out his phone from his pocket. You kissed him one last time for safe measures. He blinked at your expressionless face and leaned back down to peck you again.

His thumb slyly slid the answer button as his lips danced upon yours once more. “Where the fuck are you?!” Namjoon’s voice was low and menacing, causing you two to break the kiss.

“Meditating.” Jimin paused and waited for his boss’ response.

“Get your ass back here. We got business to handle.” With that, the call ended. Jimin’s head fell into his palms and a heavy sigh fell from his swollen lips.

“I’m sorry, we have to go.” Jimin spoke after a few seconds.

“It’s fine. I had a great time today.” You patted his exposed knee and played with the loose thread from his ripped jeans.

“Really?” He analyzed your face, trying to catch any lies that you might have been hiding. 

You embraced him in your short arms and snuggled your tired face in his fleece hoodie. His hot hands held your back and he kissed the top of your head sweetly. “How many times do I have to say it for you to believe me?”

“Three more times.” Jimin smirked, a new and exhilarating sight. 

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth before repeating your previous line three more times, “I had a great time today.”

The pesky notification noise went off again and Jimin checked his device. You peered over and saw the message before he turned off the screen.

“You better be back within the next 10 minutes.” 

Jimin pulled you up by your hand and sprinted to his car. A small sweat droplet lined his brow and you could tell how genuinely terrified he was of Namjoon.