#every episode i watch just makes me appreciate it nine and ten more

[sallysellsseashellssundays]

Nine and Ten going absolutely insane every time Rose, Martha, Donna were in danger

vs

River having to break her wrist to get out of the angel’s grasp b/c Eleven wouldn’t help her  😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Husk with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

warnings: aged-up!reader [early to late twenties], spoilers for episode 4 to the season finale, mentions of physical abuse and attempted drugging, violence, Husk's language, dismemberment, mentions of cannibalism.

Hey guys, and welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fics, this time featuring our grumpy bartender and one of my favorite characters, Husk! :) This is a collaborated project with not just @isuckatwritingsobenice, but also with @vikkirosko, @witch-of-the-writing-desk, and @riddle-simp, who gave me honest feedback on the rough drafts and how to make it the best fic I could create before sharing it with the world.

If you would like to see more of Husk x Violet, please do let me know know in the comments section or as an ask! Like always, bullying is not tolerated here so if there is any implication of it happening here, this scenario will be taken down immediately. If you have nothing nice to say, do not say it at all.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see who will win the full house at the card tables tonight :)

Reblog to support content creators!

Husk isn’t gonna deny it. It ain’t like him to deny the truth when it’s staring at him right in the fucking face. He thinks you are a little bit of an oddball. You don’t smile, you wear the same outfit every day, and you don’t eat much either unless Niffty practically drags you to the staff’s dining room from wherever she found you hiding. Normally, it’s one of two places: out in the backyard, or the greenhouse, because you’re the hotel’s groundskeeper. And that was on your days off.

 Like Angel, you worked for an overlord, but your boss wasn’t that shitbag Valentino or Vox or Velvette. Your boss is Rosie, the owner of Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony. You were her personal secretary. You had been on her payroll for over ten years, working from nine to five unless you had to stay later. She did not seem to mind you staying at the hotel so long as it did not affect her reputation or your work ethic in any way. 

So far you’ve kept your word. Alastor actually seemed to be happy that you were around. 

Maybe. Husk couldn’t fucking tell what that son of a bitch is thinking anymore. But back to you. 

You, who believed in Charlie’s work.

You, who participated in each activity and helped around without getting paid for your time.

You, the expressionless ex-military soldier, has been on his mind recently and he did not like it. 

He lost the ability to feel anything years ago. 

Nonetheless he continued to observe you from afar. When you weren’t busy with watering plants, you were seen in different parts around the hotel with the others. 

You would sit with the princess in the parlor, comparing ideas on what tomorrow’s group exercise should be, even when the only two ideas you’ve suggested were shot down immediately by Charlie. She didn’t like the idea of group bonding through hand-to-hand combat but loved the concept of showing appreciation to one another through handwritten letters. Vaggie approved the former. The latter? Not so much. 

In the kitchen you would go through the cookbook with Niffty and Alastor, trying to decide on tonight’s dinner.  They allowed you to help out, at least when it didn’t involve cracking eggs. Apparently you were not very good at separating the yolk. 

When Sir Pentious was away from the hotel doing God knows what, he trusted you to look after the Egg Bois until he got back. You kept them busy around the greenhouse though they tended to make a bit of a mess. 

Angel started to work extra late at the studio after his show and tell presentation. Something about making a big commercial and Val wanted to make big bucks on this new product that the Vees were launching in a week. You must have noticed that something was off about him, but you didn’t say anything to him. No words of encouragement, no comforting hand on his shoulder. All you did was clench your gloved hands into fists, watching him leave and…unsure of yourself. What you should do. 

Husk heard you asking Niffty what were some of the kid’s favorite foods about that time, and she was more than happy to help you with whatever it was you needed as long as you left the kitchen sparkling when you were done. You were concerned about the kid. Least from what he could remember. He drank a lot that day. 

When he woke up much later after falling asleep at the bar, hearing your footsteps descend down the grand staircase and towards the kitchen. Groggily, probably stupidly on his part, Husk thought it would be a great idea to know what the fuck you were up to so early in the morning. Turns out you were trying to cook something, judging from how you looked at the ratty cookbook propped up on the counter and the wide array of ingredients spread out. 

He saw you cook  finely chopped onions, garlic, and minced ground meat in the large frying pan on the left side of the stove. You stirred something in a smaller sauce pan on the right side with a wooden spoon. He saw you handle all of the ingredients with great care, placing them in a baking dish  even when you weren’t wearing your leather gloves. A small shudder crawled down his spine at how the kitchen lights bounced off of the adamantium skeletal prosthetics that acted as your hands. 

He didn’t even wanna know how exactly you lost them in the Great War. 

Everything was soon laid out, layer by layer and placed in the oven. He didn’t know he stood there for so long, even when you began to clean up the kitchen with a rag. Time ticked by slowly, and then a delicious aroma tickled his nose even as he took another swing of the half-filled booze bottle he was holding. He was about to leave you alone, knowing you’d be fine when he saw you pull out the dish with your hands and no oven mittens on, you fucking moron! Then his mind remembered something that stopped him from making an entrance. You couldn’t feel anything with your prosthetics, not even as you placed it on the stove top to let it sit. 

A couple of hours later - maybe he can’t keep track of time anymore so it might have been the following morning - he saw you giving Angel a large paper bag every morning before both of you left the hotel, and telling him to have a good day. 

Angel grudgingly thanked you later on that evening when he got back…though did say your garlic bread needed some work. The next day, he gave you a paper bag, telling you to taste real Italian grub and try to replicate it. 

Guess it became a game between the two of you, ‘cause Angel was slowly being someone real and not some fake  whiny bitch. 

As odd as you are….you cared about everyone in your own way, even when the words that came out of your mouth angered someone or made them cry, you tried. You never asked for help unless it was necessary, trying to learn everything on your own. And you were smart, Husk will give you that. 

And he…he doesn’t know if he had the heart to tell you that redemption might not be possible. Unlike him, you still carried a spark of hope. You believe in the princess. He doesn’t want to be the one to see you reach your breaking point, to be dragged into a swamp of despair and get drowned in all sorts of addictions to cope with the pain. He was…anxious. No. He was scared for you. He wanted to help you but he was afraid that by intervening, he would just make matters worse.

It was better to just stick to the sidelines with a bottle of booze and watch everything happen like the bartender Alastor wanted him to be, right? Well, turns out he was wrong. 

One night after he made Angel a drink and called him out on his bullshit for being fake, the whiny little bitch stormed out of the hotel. Vaggie tried to make him go out and bring him out, but Charlie intervened. All she asked him was to make sure that Angel was okay. Do not force him to come back if he isn't ready. Obviously judging from the distraught look on her face, something happened between the princess and Angel. 

Husk did not know what or why, and he really did not want to play the role of a goddamned babysitter. Not when it was actually a slow evening and he didn’t have to hear these fucks bitch and moan for hours on end. But Vaggie’s glare, knowing Alastor would force him to do it because he fucking can and not knowing what would happen if he actually violated the terms of their contract, he left the hotel. The first place he went to were the streets. No luck. And no one had seen him. When he moved his search to the bars, he spotted Angel going inside one of them. 

Long story short, he was going to hang back and just keep an eye on Angel getting drunk off his ass with some shady sharks in a corner booth until he saw one of them pour something into Angel’s drink. He took care of the fucker, got Angel out, and listened to him. Angel Dust was not just an act. It’s who he needs to be. Drinking and getting high is his escape. He wants to be damaged so that he won’t be Val’s favorite toy anymore. 

Then when it seemed like they came to an understanding with a song, those bastards opened fire on the streets, targeting him and wanting Angel to come back to have some ‘fun’. Yeah, fuck no. 

That was when he heard car tires screeching against the asphalt, doors opening and closing with more shouting. Husk gritted his teeth. “Shit.” He turned to Angel. “Stay down. I’ll take care of this.” He pulled out his cards, ready to hop onto the roof of the pink Volkswagen they were hiding when he heard a  shnk, a high pitched squeal, then a gurgle. 

THUD.

Shnk.

THUD.

C-crack.

THUD.

“Who the fuck is this bitch?! Kill her, kill her you stupid asshats!” 

“Holy shit, toots?! The fuck - why is she here?!” Angel cried. Husk raised his brow, craning his head as far as he could without being in range of a bullet to see what was going on. There were only two people Angel called toots and he was pretty damned sure they were back at the hotel, safe and sound. Not one of them blitzing across the street, dodging bullets and slicing enemies down with a hunter’s knife in one hand, a large carpet bag in the other. 

He blinked. Nope. He was sober. Shit. He thought as you weaved between the shitheads, disarming, decapitating, and snapping their necks in no particular order. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were a weapon for the army.  When he saw a flash of movement from the smaller grunt, twirling a knife and aiming it for your head as you pumped lead into his friend, Husk made his move. Hopping onto top of the car and threw his cards. One cleanly sliced the asshole’s neck. 

He quickly made through the growing crowd, running towards you as he threw some dice into a hammerhead’s mouth. But when he turned his back towards them, he felt something light and strong coil around his neck, cutting off his air supply. 

Fuck. Garroting wire! Husk flailed around  scratching, kicking,  and trying to get loose but the fucker was too damned strong. Black spots began to appear in the corner of his eyes when he felt a white hot stinging pain graze his left cheek, then something warm and sticky with a metallic scent. Blood.

The body behind him dropped, and so did he, yanking the wire off  him and inhaling deep gulps of  precious oxygen. Husk looked up and saw Angel with a shit-eating grin and a Tommy Gun in his upper hands. 

“Eat lead, sucker!” The porn star cackled, firing several more bullets into the corpse and his buddies that were closing in on them. Angel grinned at him, extending a hand to help him up.”I told ya. I can handle myself, baby.” Husk felt a grin stretching his own face as the fella pulled out more weapons with more arms. Well….not something he was expecting. 

Between the three of them, they made quick work with the rest of the gang and their reinforcements. Like him and Angel, you were covered in grime and blood but you were all right. 

“Are you two all right?” You asked as you wiped off the blood from your knife with a handkerchief, the carpet bag by your feet and in pristine condition. “No limbs missing that weren’t missing before you arrived?” 

“Yeah, we’re good.” Angel said, putting away his guns and extra limbs. “More importantly, why the fuck are you out here instead of the hotel?!” He interrogated, his voice lowering an octave as he glared at you, stomping towards you. Before Husk could stop him, Angel grabbed  your cheeks with his hands and pinched them. “You know these streets are dangerous, toots! How many times do Vags and I gotta tell ya?! Come straight home when you’re done with work!” Then he blinked, his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror. “Toots,” He said slowly. “Y-you ain’t hooking up with anyone around here, are ya?!” He yelled, now pulling your cheeks outwards as if you were a cartoon character. 

You didn’t flinch from the cheek pinching or pulling; instead, you looked at him in slightly confusion. “I don’t understand. What does fishing have anything to do with this except that these men were quite literally loan sharks standing outside a nautical-themed bar?” You asked. 

“Toots.” Angel said warningly. “If you don’t give me a straight answer, I swear to fucking God I am going to yeet you off a rooftop.”

“ ‘Yeet’?” You repeated.

“[First Name], just tell us why you’re here.” Husk said, already feeling a headache coming on and in need of a drink. You turned your attention to him, then back at Angel before you spoke.

“Rosie sent me out on a last-minute errand to get fertilizer for her plants. But by the time I got there, the shop was already closed. I was on my way home when I heard the gunshots, and saw the two of you being pinned down. I was not going to leave my comrades behind when I could help them. So I did. And now,” You looked over at the bodies strewn across the street. “I have what I need. Two birds with one stone, as Rosie says.”

“Ya mean ‘kill two birds with one stone’, toots?”

“Yes.”

“So, by fertilizer, ya mean these schmucks that we just totally obliterated.”

“Yes.”

“Food for plants.”

“Carnivorous plants. And if the fertilizer is fresh, the better it is for them. Rosie loves her plants very much.” You said, pulling away from Angel and grabbed the carpet bag off of the ground, walking towards the nearest body. “If you do not want to be here, I suggest you leave quickly.” You knelt down, laying the bag down and opened it, laying out assorted tools. Bone saws, knives, a large roll of plastic wrap, etc. “Rosie says I have gotten much quicker at dismemberment.” You carefully peeled off your gloves, replacing them with gray surgical ones. 

Husk glanced at Angel, eyebrow raised. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing because the latter spoke up with a toothy grin. 

“Baby, I was a mobster long before I was a porn star. ‘Sides, hacking up a body all by yourself is gonna take you all night. Better to have more hands to get the job neater an’ faster, am I right Whiskers?” 

Husk smirked. “Can’t argue with that, Legs. Guess you’re stuck with us until this job is done. You got another bone saw in that bag of yours?” He asked with a grin, somehow…happy to actually be doing this. Who would have thought a new friendship started with cleaning up bodies?

You stared at them for a moment, obviously stunned because you must have thought they’d leave you here alone, before you pulled out two more bone saws and more rubber gloves. Your instructions were simple enough: the severed pieces couldn't be any bigger than your body, and they needed to be wrapped up tightly in the plastic wrapping or else you’d have to pay a hefty cleaning bill to get the blood out of the bottom of the bag. Angel’s extra limbs came in handy for the latter task. Between the three of you, quick work was made with the dead loan sharks and everything was loaded inside the carpet bag, and no one was the wiser. This was Hell, after all. Cannibalism, gun fights, and dismemberment was commonplace in these parts. 

You thanked him and Angel profusely, bowing your head to them before you shyly asked if they would be interested in getting a bite to eat. To Angel’s knowledge, the closest place that is still open late at night is Devil’s Diner, which is half a  block from Jackpot, the casino Husk had owned from his glory days as an overlord. The food wasn’t too bad there, and cheap too. 

Now that he thought about it, Husk had worked up more of an appetite after the fight and so did Angel. Better to do that than trying to cook something and waking up Niffty. So, the three of you went to Devil’s Diner. Of course, you tried to just have a cup of coffee, but neither he nor Angel were having it. Conditioning your body to minimize nutrients to complete a mission, his ass. 

Both he and Angel persuaded you to try the day’s special with some water plus dessert. Whatever you couldn’t finish, get a to-go box. Husk himself ordered a sandwich with chips. Angel got pancakes, sausage, strawberries, and a strong drink because he fucking deserved it. 

Conversation started slow at first, but as the orders were placed and drinks were served by their waiter, words were exchanged, and stories were shared. Angel revealed he had a little brother and more family down here, though he rarely talked to them anymore after getting into the show biz. Husk confessed that he used to be a magician in Las Vegas, showing off a trick with his cards. 

They shared a good laugh over Val’s shitty eyesight. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to count three bills, but it fucking did for the moth man.

You told them that you were once commissioned to help a playwright finish his newest script after being on a hiatus for many years, but he had been a difficult man to work with because he had no interest in doing anything else except drinking his days away. You had actually acted out a scene on the lake where the hero would journey home to be reunited with her father after vanquishing a monster. That was when you began to understand how grief affects people in different ways…and how your actions affected the people you had killed on the battlefield. People who had families and had one-day wishes that would never be fulfilled because they died by your hand. You are here in Hell because you are, you were, a weapon to be used in war. Reconnecting with people, with your emotions…it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. 

“That’s what being human is all about.” Husk said. “Ya make mistakes, ya regret the choices ya wish ya would have made, or should’ve made, and ya need to live with it.” He knew that better than anyone. 

“The old timer’s got a point but look at how far you’ve come!” Angel exclaimed, spreading his arms out as he began listing all the good things you have done and accomplished since you came to the hotel, though you still needed to learn how to bake real Italian bread, not just heat up the cheap frozen ones in the oven. Husk silently agreed with him, taking another swing of his whiskey. In the end, you got a to-go box, but Angel said he could take it back with him to the hotel. You still needed to deliver the body parts to your cannibal superior and Husk said he’d go with you. But you insisted that you would be fine on your own, and that he and Angel should get some rest. 

“Rosie will not let me stay long in the emporium with how late it already is. She’s very particular about keeping the lights on after business hours.” You said, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards into a frown as your gaze fell upon his wings. “Husk…you were twitching a little and I heard your spine crack earlier, and your voice sounded a little raspy. I do not know what the cause of your ailments beyond the scuffle with those loan sharks could be because I am not a doctor…but it would be better if you and Angel took it easy for the rest of the night.” 

Keep in mind that Husk had once been an overlord. Yes, he’s been out of the game for a while, he won’t deny it. But he was not going to admit that you might be right.  “There’s nothin’ to worry about, I’ll be fine. If I can handle a fight, taking you where you need to go will be a walk in the park.” He grumbled, ignoring Angel’s snickering. 

He watched you raise your hand, fingers outstretched towards one of his wings, and then you pulled it away to clench your hand into a loose fist. Husk saw your hesitancy isn’t because you were disgusted at the sight of them, or his appearance. Hell, you had more bloodstains on your clothes than him and Angel combined. No. You were hesitating because you were afraid that your touch might hurt him, or make the pain he was feeling worse. 

Husk grinned as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it forward and carefully coiling the gloved fingers around the outer part of the left wing near his forearm to give it a squeeze. “See?” He flexed the muscles. “I’m fine. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” It took him a second to realize how impulsive his actions were, seeing how your eyes widened and hearing Angel release a low, teasing whistle, muttering “Kinky~!” under his breath. Great. The kid wasn’t going to let this go, not even after a few drinks. Shit. Fuck. 

He tried to ignore the warmth flooding his face as he kept his gaze on you until you nodded your head, removing your hand from his wing. You were convinced that he was more than fine to accompany you back to Cannibal Colony, at least for the moment. You turned to Angel. “Are you going to be okay, heading back to the hotel on your own?”

Angel smiled toothily. “Toots, you should know me by now. Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked, holding up the to-go boxes as he turned on his heel, waving his extra hands over his shoulder. “See ya back at the bar! Ya still owe me a drink, Husker~!” Now that he left the diner, it was time for the two of you to make your exit. 

You walked down the steps and looked at him. “Ready?”

Husk nodded. “Yeah.” He then held out his paw to you. “Let’s get going.” You nodded, placing your hand in the center of his own, covering the golden-heart shaped paw  before he scooped you up in his arms, one claw under your legs and the other around your shoulders. You stared at him.

“What-”

“Hang on tight.” Husk did not give you a chance to respond, unfurling his wings to their full length before putting all of his weight on his back leg, catapulting the two of you into the crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Walking was fine and all, but as you mentioned, it was already pretty late. Why waste more time when he could fly there? 

So here you were, held like a princess with one arm wrapped around the carpet bag and your hand placed on his shoulder. But instead of screaming your head off or pleading with him to land somewhere, your attention was elsewhere. You were captivated with the multi-colored pin pricks of light down below,  your mouth partly open and [Eye Color] irises widened by a fraction. It was obvious that you hadn’t seen Hell from above. Or maybe you hadn’t traveled by air before. Either way, seeing such an expression on your face, one that wasn’t calm or expressionless like a doll who lived by someone else’s order.

You looked like a living, breathing human who had her own thoughts and could find beauty in the most bizarre of places. 

It almost made Husk consider extending this flight for a little longer until he realized he’d have to explain to you in great detail as to why he did decide to do it. So he brushed it off, and followed your instructions to your destination. 

Twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the stone steps leading up to the glass double doors of Rosie’s Emporium. The dimly lit streets were mostly empty, the bars were still open and echoed with raucous laughter and jazz. It was tempting to slip inside there for a drink, but Husk wasn’t too keen on being around cannibalistic drunks. Alcoholic he might be, he wasn’t that stupid. And he didn’t want you to get in trouble with the overlord who ran this place. She was your boss, not his. 

He watched you put a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out a small golden key. You put it in the dead bolt, twisting it to the left before pushing the door open. “Miss Rosie?” You called out, stepping inside the darkened establishment. “Miss Rosie, it is me. I am back.” 

A moment of silence enveloped the place, but only briefly because soon a tall, thin woman in a burgundy dress with an oversized hat and feathers materialized in front of you. She was at least two or three heads taller than you, smiling down with rows of sharp, gray teeth and pitch black orbs. “Oh there you are, I was startin’ to really get worried! Did John give you everything for my precious little sprouts?”

You quickly explained what had happened, how you could not see John because he had closed the shop by the time you got there but the fertilizer you collected from a gun fight you got into and came out victorious should be more than enough. Rosie was all but delighted, twirling in a small circle as she cooed.

“Ohh, I knew it was a good idea to hire you from the moment you came for the interview! I wish I could’ve seen you at work, using that bone saw and hacking away at corpses, but there’s always another day~! You know how many people come in wishing to have their husbands or wives ripped from limb to limb, at least the ones that taste bad! Ah?” She stopped dancing, craning her long neck to stare at him. “Who’s this you brought with you, [First Name]?” She looked over her shoulder, wagging a finger at you with a raised brow. “Come now, I know I said I wanted you to find a good fella someday, but this one’s way too scruffy for you and you’re much too young for him! Oh, I’m just kidding, I know you’re dedicated to your job! Well? Introduce us!”

You did, introducing him to the overlord as Husk and the hotel’s bartender. Alastor must have told her about him because she immediately called him ‘Alastor’s kitty cat’ and ‘how he used to be such a sophisticated-looking fella until he gambled against Alastor’. She laughed. “Well, small world, after all! [First Name], be a dear and take that bag into the back, will you? I’ll feed the little monsters myself, and you can go home! Oh, did you want some pinky fingers to go? I’ve got plenty of them and you probably didn’t eat dinner again, am I right?”

“Understood. And no thank you, though I will take up on the offer to try one of those roasted legs next time.” Husk almost gagged at your monotone words and Rosie’s cackle, but he had to keep his composure. As far as he knew, you were not a cannibal. And if you were…well, you probably wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help him and Angel, or at least order something from the Cannibal’s Section at the diner instead of force feeding yourself on the daily special. 

You might have only been gone for a few minutes, but it was awkward to stand near Rosie, the way she smiled at him like she was thinking about adding him to her menu for not dressing up in a vintage outfit. At least he hoped not. He could barely contain his relieved sigh when you appeared again, hands empty with no bag in sight. 

“It’s done.”

“Wonderful~! Now, you march up to bed as soon as you get in the door young lady! No staying up late!” She said, following the two of you to the door. “Give my regards to Alastor and tell that man he must come back soon! These halls have lost their sparkle without his lively presence! Oh! Before I forget~!” She snapped her fingers, and in a puff of dark red smoke, a large wad of bills materialized in your hands. “Here’s your paycheck! I know it’s a little early but I have a very important task for you to do tomorrow!” She grinned. “Go to town and buy yourself some new clothes for work!”

You faltered. “But -”

“Tomorrow is your day off I know, and I really, really love your enthusiasm when you try to come in to help around, but a proper lady of society cannot live on just one dress and a pair of boots! Oh, and you will also need to get a Hellphone in case something like this happens again! No ifs, ands, or buts! If Alastor throws a fit about it, I’ll talk to him! Now, shoo! Husker, be a dear and get my darling worker back to that hotel safely, all right?” She added with a wink.

Husk grunted exasperatedly but did not say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was go pissing off an overlord who just happened to be the Boss’ friend. So he just nodded, and followed you out of the door. When it shut behind them with a click, things got…awkward. Now that you weren’t carrying around a bag full of body parts, there was no need to fly all the way back to the hotel. Or at least that he thought you were thinking. 

But he told you that he didn’t mind, since Charlie was probably already worried about the two of you even if Angel had somehow managed to persuade her otherwise. So…you agreed, albeit hesitantly. Husk didn't waste any more time. He scooped you up in his arms and took off into the night skies, though with this being the Pride Ring, there was really no way to tell if it was day or night anymore. Cannibal Colony soon became another darkened spot, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight. 

As soon as the two of you made it back to the hotel, Husk had no doubt everyone would be giving him shit. Angel would make comments on his little ‘date’ went, which he’ll deny in every possible way, and the princess might be cryin’ from anxiety or relief knowing that two of you were all right. But that was then. This is now. And…he’s come to like holding you in his arms. 

“Husk?”

“Yeah?” He felt the arms around his neck tighten slightly…but not that it wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt…okay. Like you were trying to say something, but you struggled to find the right words to say without sounding like an ass. 

“Thank you…for everything.”

His lips stretched into a grin. "You're welcome." 

He felt the cold of your palms, it would seem, through the gloves, but it was not so important. Because as the two of you flew back to the place you called home, he saw you smiling down at the Pentagram in wonder, whispering the places you had visited and or wondered what they were or if he knew anything about them, to which he either answered yes or no. It was such a small smile, but how could he not commit not it to his memory? 

And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get a drink with you on a night around town. Or make one for you at his bar. He knew how to make a good non-alcoholic pina colada, even an alcoholic version of it. But who knows? He’ll take things one step at a time, and see what happens. 

What Husk did not realize at the time, not too far in the distant future, you would be the one to close the gap between them…and there would be something more between the two of you. Something that made his days in Hell just a little brighter. 

Taglist: @riddle-simp @kanroji-san @star-fawn21 @luthefriendlywitch @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @solandis-does-stuff @ladydoe8 @victheauthor @anielly-2010 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @bones4thecats @mmelionsblog @frompeach @nixie-writes @tired-of-life-86 @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @justamegafan @the-cat-queen-peasants @oucx @diamondzoey @alyriaschoenheit @lbcreations-blog @alastorsart @nunezs-stuff @sillypenguincats @theunknowntravel3r @imperfectbloodmoon @no1sillybilly @likesugarandcyanide @bladeismine @bones4thecats

[thirdeyeblue]

“Nine would have treated Martha better than Ten did”

I need to talk about this argument that never seems to stop circulating.

Note: Not a venomous/anti post. There’s more than enough of that across fandom spaces as is, and this is supposed to be a place for ✨sweet, blissful escapism✨

When making this argument, people seem to envision a scenario in which Nine never met Rose.

While I can appreciate a good hypothetical, recognizing Rose's significance to the Doctor (Nine and Ten) is essential to understanding why things with Martha played out the way they did in the first place.

In the third series, the Doctor is grieving. This grief is deliberately threaded into nearly every script, whether spoken aloud or not (and these are just a few examples):

He's burning in Rose’s wake the entire time Martha travels with him, which is why it’s so frequently called upon: It’s 100% deliberate in framing his grief. He grieved as Nine too, of course— having been fresh on the heels of the Time War — but then he met Rose, which changed everything.

Back then, he was still a rude, traumatized pain in the ass, but we watch Rose soften more of those jagged edges with every episode as they grow closer; as he lets his guard down and forms a deep connection with her.

He falls in love (against his better judgment) and it's game over.

And yes: provided S1E1 had been titled 'Martha', one can realistically assume things might have unfolded similarly to how they did with Rose. However, it wouldn’t have been that way just because the Doctor was Nine and “Nine was different” — it would be because he wasn’t already in love with someone else. The same can't be said for the start of S3.

Think of it like this: if Rose AND Martha had been in that cellar — if Nine had taken both of them along with him in S1 — we’d eventually be looking at the most melodramatic love triangle ever, what with him living in close quarters with two brilliant, gorgeous, compassionate young women... But Doctor Who is plenty “soap opera” as is with just one woman in the TARDIS.

(I certainly wouldn’t object to reading that fic, though)

Now, regarding the unrequited elephant in the room…

His inability to be romantic with Martha isn’t because he thinks her lesser, nor is it for lack of compatibility. It isn't because Rose is any better than her. It certainly isn’t just because he’s Ten.

It’s really only for one reason, which can't be denied — and now I’m a broken record:

He is still in love with Rose.

(cut from a tenrosedaily gif)

Nine is Ten, and Ten is only such a mess in S3 because he’s just lost the love of his life. Martha merely got caught in the crosshairs of a volatile Time Lord in mourning, and yes — it sucks. Absolutely.

But it also feels dismissive to chalk Ten and Martha’s relationship up to little more than some sort of mindless dance of pining, jealousy, and toxicity.

Ten trusted Martha with his life over and over again — and hers, with him. He constantly praised her brilliance, happily carting her around time and space with no intention of letting her go. In the BBC’s extended universe of novels/comics/cartoons/etc, there’s so much depth to their relationship: love and trust and trauma and sacrifice. They had their own special bond as mates, their own complexities — so it’s a bummer that it's forever overshadowed by the other things.

I’m not denying that there was a lot of stuff that sucked/was for sure toxic about Ten's S3 behavior, but so many of the things I've seen him catching flak for can be directly attributed to being A Clueless Fucking Alien Idiot (not a trait that’s unique to Ten) — as well as his flat-out obliviousness to Martha’s feelings.

So yes, I agree: if Rose never existed, he would have treated Martha differently as Nine. He also would have treated her differently as Ten. Certainly.

But Rose did exist, and when discussing canon, it matters.

“He tells me that he absolutely, 100% loves Rose... He tells me how my daughter; my wonderful, beautiful, clever little girl saved him from himself before… And he says that’s all because of me! I made her into the Rose Tyler that saved him.”

-Jackie Tyler, Flight Into Hull!

Martha got the short end of the stick in S3. She came round at the wrong place and time, but that doesn't mean it was all bad. It doesn't mean the Doctor didn’t adore her. It certainly doesn't mean the time they spent together was wasted or worthless. They were brilliant!

Sure, he could be a twat, but let it be known that he was a twat with Rose as well, both as Nine and Ten. I’m sure Tentoo can be plenty infuriating, too. So while I'll defend Ten (and Tentoo) into the ground forever and ever and ever, I'll concede that he's fucked up.

The Doctor is a certified Pain In The Ass. It’s one of the things I love so much about this character — dynamics.

But never forget that Martha was goddamn tough as nails and overcame every bit of it. She moved on with her life, and the Doctor moved on with his. One can only pray that, when they inevitably drag her back onto the show (which feels inevitable if I'm honest), we see at once that she's been living her best life for all these years.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 1

It begins

“Pilot”

Man, not to bring my hero academia immediately into my viewing of supernatural, but is Dean proof that even if Touya had been able to follow in his dad’s footsteps, he still would never feel like he was enough??

“I swore I was done with hunting for good” oh. Oh, Sammy. You poor naive young man. You’ve got fifteen years of this ahead of you

(I’m literally not going to be able to watch this as NOT a todobros au, huh. Haven’t decided if I’m mad about it, though. The whole exchange about 9yo Sam telling their dad he was afraid of the dark? So John gave him a 45? Tell me that’s not a “he’s already 5, he can take it”)

Dude, the guy this ghost lady picked up is a total ass, but can you imagine deciding to cheat on your girlfriend and the girl you wanna cheat with takes you to a CLEARLY long abandoned house?? Power fucking mood

Ok I did right by myself deciding to watch Doctor Who second because I fucking hate jumpscares and we’re in the VERY monster of the week era

I will say the tension of “kid who did once know, however briefly, a happy family life” vs “kid who’s trying to get out from their constantly, almost since birth, family life” is really good in this episode.

Also that Dean just FULLY threw himself off that bridge? It’s…it sure is something compared to Sam hanging on to the ledge for dear life. It says something

(There’s these guitar licks that play every once in a while that make me think I’m gonna be watching a Home Depot commercial or one of those fake large truck commercials tiktokers sometimes do…..which is fitting but it’s still really funny)

Girlie, I don’t think you can call Sam unfaithful in his relationship if you force yourself on him…play by your own rules, love.

Ghost kids are creepy af, aaaaaaaand the VERY 2005 special effects. Brilliant. Love it.

Oh poor Jessica’s about to get got…but also how did Dean know to come back? He drove away?!

All in all, aside from fridging two women in the pilot, it’s a solid episode

“Rose”

That post about old new who having such realistic settings for the companion’s home is so real…Rose’s room is EXTREMELY 2005

Nah, because why are they preparing me for a jumpscare too???? Y’all I’m so easily scared lmaooo

But now nine is here telling her to run so all is good in the world

Nine didn’t get enough appreciation in his time. I know we all love him now but…I definitely was more meh 10 years ago

Jackie Tyler is an icon. And BRUTAL. She really just told her daughter there’s no point in getting up today due to Rose’s job being burnt to the ground

And her flirting with the doctor I caaaannooooot she’s amazing “I’m in my dressing gown” “yep” “there’s a strange man in my bedroom” “yep” “well….anything could happen” “no!” You KNOW Jackie’s read all the cheap and twisty romance novels she could get her hands on

Rose gets a Shigaraki moment

Ok it’s 2005, what is in Mickey’s emails that he’s worried about?? I mean, could just be a general privacy thing but still

How come there aren’t more people like Clive in this show? If I remember correctly, later on people are just like “ah yes, our favorite time traveling alien, The Doctor. This is normal”

The makeup job they did on plastic Mickey is just the right amount of creepy

I forgot how much running through the back halls and rooms of shops and whatnot there was

I’m also loving the tension of The Doctor loves humanity but constantly forgets Mickey’s existence so much so that Rose has to call him out on it. The greater good vs very real human people aspect is a good tension for The Doctor and their companion to have. It’s part of what also made Ten and Donna so good, especially in episodes like The Fires of Pompeii

Oh the warm fuzzy feeling of seeing Nine smile and say “Fantastic!”

Clive didn’t deserve that, man!!

(Watching Jackie get almost attacked by the bridal mannequins, I’m also thinking about how Donna been somehow oblivious to this)

Mickey’s fears and suspicions about The Doctor are completely understandable, rational, and valid given all he went through in this episode. Man was kidnapped and copied by another alien who wanted to devour his entire planet, basically. And I hate how he gets treated by the narrative. That said, watching Rose run toward the TARDIS at the end is everything

[therealvinelle]

Any thoughts on Rose Tyler? A fan of doctor/rose?

Oh, where to start.

Rose

I really like Rose, on many levels.

I love that she's working class, and not a romanticized working class but that she feels like the real thing. The pilot episode to New Who is so well done in the way it introduces Rose and her world. She's living with her mum and working in a shop, bored with her life. Her mother is exhausting and wakes her up on the day after her workplace blew up with "There's no point in getting up, you've got no job." and her boyfriend ditches her for a football game, plus you've got his infamous "Don't read my emails!" line (which was intended by RTD to mean... yes.).

There are millions of Rose Tylers in Great Britain and in the world at large, not outright poor but never going to be well off either, with parents who love them but aren't good at being supportive, with boyfriends who don't appreciate them.

And then she meets the Doctor, and everything changes.

I love that even as she travels through space, she remains working class - it's not simply a circumstance to be shrugged off, it's in how she dresses, talks, and behaves. She's unapologetically not what British TV (or TV, period) broadcasts, there's no My Fair Lady type storyline of her becoming more high class, because she's good enough simply by being Rose Tyler.

Jackie and Mickey

I love that Rose has a family in Jackie and Mickey, those who get left behind. They are easily among my favorite Doctor Who characters. To take Jackie first, the development her character undergoes through the course of the series is subtle but so good. She starts out as the butt of every misogynistic joke that comes to mind when you so much as look at her, a series of unflattering clichés stacked on top of one another, only to be humanized until her perceived negative traits, such as throwing herself at men or chattering ceaselessly, are what makes her so beautifully human that you can only love her for it.

Mickey is heartbreaking too, in that he is always second best, always the screwup, never fitting in, and those he loves most will never put him first. His choice to stay in the parallel universe was the beautiful culmination of all that, I adored it.

Pete

He gets a mention too. I just love, so much, that in every impossible world where Rose meets the father who never knew her, he knows her. They just connect, something deeper than anything explicable tying them together. Both the Pete who died when Rose was a child and the parallel universe Pete who never even had a daughter simply knew and were willing to lay down their lives for her. Goddamnit, that there gets me right in the feels.

Overall I love the sheer humanity of Rose Tyler and everything surrounding her.

Her relationship with the Doctor

I'm a bit more ambivalent here.

Rose and Nine are amazing, she brings him back from the darkness of the Time War and gives him a reason to enjoy life again. He loves her for that, and I can't blame him, just as I can't blame her for loving him in turn. But, I ultimately find their dynamic to be more father/daughter than romantic. Yes, it's a wishy washy gray area where they get shippy moments, but my main takeaway from seeing those two together is something beyond romance. Yes, she loves him and will gladly spend her life with him, but it's never sexual.

I enjoy watching those two together, I really do.

As for Rose and Ten...

I hate to say, but they're just not very interesting. He adores her, she adores him, and there's not much happening beyond that. The most interesting characters in series two are Jackie and Mickey.

And they didn't lack for material, that's what gets me. Rose spends the season wondering if she can truly travel the universe with the Doctor forever, or if she'll be discarded eventually like Sarah Jane, and if she even knows the man.

Except, the show just never really gets into it. The Doctor mentions out of the blue at one point that he was a father once, Rose says "Wait, what?" but he doesn't answer.

And that's it, it's not brought up again.

They needed conflict in that series to be compelling, but I suspect RTD wanted things to great between them to make it all the more devastating when they were separated. So we have Rose's relationship with Nine developing and being this great and compelling thing, and with Ten it stagnates because hey, it's already established

Were I in his shoes, I would have made Rose learn who the Doctor is, for better and for worse, and at the end of it choose to stay with him anyway. And then, and only then, when Ten has her devotion in a way no companion has devoted herself to him before, would I have torn them apart.

Alas, their relationship is pretty static through that series, so you could have set Doomsday at the beginning of the series and there would have been no great difference in how that would have affected them.

Compare that to Martha, who spends series three in such a delightful, miserable, relationship with the Doctor that just keeps getting more complicated, making her decision to leave at the end of the series not a moment too soon. Series three doesn't need Tish having a B-plot for there to be anything worth watching, Ten and Martha are more than enough.

This isn't to say I think Ten and Rose were poorly written, it's just that RTD can do better.

In other words I'm a fan of Nine & Rose, not so much Ten & Rose.

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x9 thoughts

It’s no secret that I absolutely adore Coach Beard; he’s one of my favorite characters on the show, and he’s so well-written and well-acted that somehow I tend to be both perfectly satisfied with the details we see and truly curious to understand more about the way he thinks, what’s really happening re: his professional and personal devotion to Ted, where he comes from and where he’s going. I don’t need to know his name beyond the name he wants to be called, but I want to know why we don’t have any other names for him. And I don’t need him to be a bigger focal point of every episode, but I very much needed this episode’s world-exploding reminder that every single character on this show has a rich inner life, full of joys and troubles.

“Beard After Hours” is like a movie, but one that scatters its climaxes and puts off its resolutions...because it’s not a movie. It’s episode nine of a twelve-episode season of TV. When the episode ended, I felt this almost frantic “But he needed to break up with Jane for good before the end of the episode!” feeling. I was so pulled in by the idea of being able to tell an entire story in one night, of going on an odyssey alongside a complicated hero, that watching Beard and Jane find each other in that club felt as intense as the fact that we don’t know if Ted responded to Rebecca’s voicemail and we don’t know what’s going to happen with Rebecca and Sam and we don’t know who isn’t getting married and who is having a funeral in 2x10 (I mean, I have my strong suspicions, but still!) and we don’t know if Richmond will be promoted back to the Premier League. And on and on. I didn’t mind feeling desperate for the story to resolve even though I understood after thinking about it for ten seconds that of course it couldn’t resolve yet. Or ever. Or yet.

I’m a big fan of the TL episode recaps/reviews Linda Holmes writes for NPR, and I have to quote something from this week’s directly because it so perfectly explains my feelings:

The power of the scene where Beard dances in the club isn't that it's a beautiful romantic climax. It's that it's an explanation of why he cannot seem to extricate himself from this bad relationship. What makes the worst relationships so dangerous is that they have elements that feel good that are very hard to get elsewhere. Beard knows that; he tells it to God. What's concerning isn't that Jane makes the world seem more interesting; what's concerning is she's the only thing that does. That doesn't take away from the joy of the dancing; it just tells you that even happiness is complicated.

I love Holmes’ perspective here so much, because it articulates something I was struggling to figure out: how it can feel so legitimate, like such a (temporary but nonetheless powerful) relief, for Beard to find Jane in that club and to have this moment of euphoria as his night nears an end. How it is possible to experience that relief on behalf of a character while fervently wishing it could end differently, because it’s so clear from the abusive text messages and the toxic calls and the manipulative interactions that Jane is terrible to him and they’re terrible for each other. But Beard knows this. He knows it when he hugs Higgins in the parking lot after Higgins is honest with him in a way Ted and Rebecca and Keeley have not learned how to be, and he knows it when part of his prayer includes the clear articulation that Jane isn’t the cure for what “ails me.” He’s inching closer to greater self-knowledge just as Ted is.

And the two big resolutions that really, really needed to happen did. I didn’t know I needed Paul, Baz, and Jeremy to get to wrap up their own night out on the pitch at Nelson Road, but I did. It brought actual tears to my eyes. And the other resolution was Beard showing up with the other coaches’ coffees for their meeting to watch the game film. As interesting as it would have been to see what Ted would have done if Beard hadn’t shown up, I’m so, so glad that he did. He’s got a messed-up face and some truly epic pants on, but otherwise this is just Beard showing up for work, showing up for his friends. It was incredible to realize that Beard and Ted haven’t been exaggerating when they’ve referred to his sex-and-drug proclivities in the past. The night documented in 2x9 might have been particularly scary and violent and euphoric and awful and meaningful, but this type of all-night adventure isn’t a foreign concept for this guy. In all the other episodes of this show, when we see Beard we’re seeing someone who might have been out all night, who might have spent the hours the sun was down desperately pushing himself closer to whatever edges he could find.

I don’t really want to touch upon all the allusions in this episode. They are abundant, they are well-documented, and also I haven’t even seen the movie After Hours. I enjoyed this episode for its allusive qualities and I enjoyed this episode for what it was and I feel like I have to be at peace with the fact that I’m never going to pick up on every single reference on this show and that is okay.

So, yeah, if this entry on my tumblr dot com blog seems remarkably devoid of references and allusions, it’s not because I’m not into it but because I find it too overwhelming to actually write about.

Very into the Misplaced and Discovered box at the Crown and Anchor. (That’s what Mae wrote on the Lost and Found box at the pub, right? Whatever it is, it’s so funny.)

Beard hallucinating Thierry Henry and Gary Lineker was truly upsetting and a great indicator not only of how broken things are between the Richmond coaching staff right now but also how deep Beard’s self-loathing might go. If you’d asked me before Thursday if I thought Beard loathed himself, I would say no. That deepening of knowledge alone makes 2x9 worth it.

James Tartt and his friends in the alley. Such a nightmare. I go back and forth on how much of the night was real, and part of me has decided all of it is, short of the images of Henry and Lineker. (And even that is real to the extent that it was a way of articulating what was in Beard’s head.) But watching Beard in physical danger brought on by the same abuser who had him so upset in the first place. It was a lot.

I’m so excited that Paul and Jeremy and Baz got some spotlight this episode. It was so wonderful to see them out of the pub. I love that they ended up telling the Oxford snots who they really were. They got to see Beard going to bat for them and smoothing over the situation socially, and that actually made it more possible for them to end up being truthful about themselves. Because they have nothing to be ashamed of, and they deserved the magic of that night. (And for it to end on Nelson Road. Every feeling. Oof.)

I feel like I barely have anything to say about the trouser-mending lady or the many places Beard goes or his key-dropping or the nightmarish feeling of wanting to be home and being unable to be home. It all happened and we all watched it and again, it was a lot. But I do feel incredibly moved and fascinated by the fact that Beard very obviously still hasn’t been home when he brings in the coffee. He’s had to sleep at the club for Jane- and key-related reasons in the past, and this time it’s not that he’s slept there but it still feels like a kind of homecoming he was robbed of for the entire night. Ted and Roy and Nate are there. He’s gotten their coffee orders correct. Ted is growing and evolving (he wants to learn from what’s happened, he’s insisting upon it even when the others resist) but he’s done a really perfect (almost romantic in its loveliness) thing by presumably spending his evening following a breakdown of his own speeding up the game film to 10x speed and adding Benny Hill. Ted is not OK and Beard is not OK and Nate is not OK and Roy is pretty OK but could very easily be not OK because he’s just joined a coaching staff with a whole lot of not OK. But they all showed up.

I am very into the realism of the lights being off in the club other than the coaches’ office (@talldecafcappuccino pointed this out!), and the way we’re seeing their desks from a different angle because this episode is unfocused on Ted. It really added to the mindset of being hungover and exhausted and unable to go home or even to know exactly what home should be; even this warm, familiar place feels off even as it’s a relief to be back there.

I am excited to return to our regularly scheduled programming with the full cast of characters, but I really adored this episode for what it taught us about Beard and what it illuminated about the humor, pain, and complexity of each person who inhabits this universe. Beard may not be loud about his long-standing beliefs or about the things he’s learned, but there’s a lot happening in there and I appreciated getting to spend 43 minutes with him and (in the case of the ticket he scrawls on a piece of paper so the pub guys can get into Nelson Road) the moments he sets in motion.

[whats-those]

Hey hey hey I wanna talk classic who

I started watching it last year and finished it a month or two ago. I watched almost every episode (skipped a lot of one and two but I’ll go back and finish them sometime soon). Fuck it was good. I’ve loved modern who since I was a wee child and jumping into classic who was the best decision I’ve ever made. Since modern managed to retain the vibe of classic, it was just more of my fave show!! Gah!!! I love it!!!

My favorite Doctor was Three until he was more recently usurped by Six (I’ll save my emotional rant about how poorly people treat Six for another day). Or, really it was Eleven first, then Ten briefly, then Nine, then Twelve before I watched classic. Really, I love all of the doctors (except Thirteen but through no fault of her own. She got screwed over by the writing).

The Master is probably my favorite character besides the Doctor themself. Delgado is my favorite incarnation but I’ve been really into Roberts recently. Oh my god the TV movie was wild. (Oh yeah, and I ship Best Enemies)

Sexuality and gender headcanons time!!

- The Doctor is agender and panromantic. They switch between asexual and demisexual depending on the incarnation. They/them or any pronouns, doesn’t really care. Every incarnation looks literally fantastic in a skirt btw I’ve drawn almost all of them in one

- The Master is the same. Could literally not care less about pronouns (stupid human nonsense)

- Zoe is a lesbian

- Jo is a lesbian

- Leela is a lesbian

- Sarah Jane is a lesbian or perhaps bi

- Romana is queer. All Time Lords are queer by human standards

- Tegan and Nyssa are in love and both lesbians

- Turlough is ace/aro

- Peri is bi (Oh my god I love Peri she and Six are my favorite doctor+companion pair)

- Ace is a lesbian (she and seven are my other fave)

- They somehow managed to make all modern companions up to Bill feel compulsively straight and I do not appreciate that. Early 2000s-2010s vibes just feel heterosexual to me

- Oh wait there’s Jack <3 Omni king. Yooo I hate Torchwood with a passion but I love Ianto. Anyway that’s unrelated.

Okay that’s it. Gotta save more rambling for another post. If you like classic Best Enemies I wrote a six/ainley!master fic which you can read on ao3. There is no demand for that ship but I love it. It’s in Evelyn’s POV so it’s even less accessible rip. Here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36714172

Thanks for reading (absolutely no one made it this far lol)

[vvitchering]

HELLO!!! For your character ask game! This is gonna be random and I tried to make it non-spoilery for MYSELF so here goes:

1) Renfri!

2) Jack from Dr Who (if there's stuff I don't know yet just skip it thank you >:))

3) Corn Cobb

4) 1 random Sailor Moon character from the 3 episodes you've already seen /D

5) Shrek (this one's on you)

THANK YOUUUUU ;D

Anna really making me haul my whole laptop out so I can dig into all of these hahahaha

UNDER ZE CUT

1) RENFRI!

First impression: I remember wondering if she was being set up as Geralt's love interest at first and I also remember thinking "okay yes I love her, she's badass, he clearly is intrigued by her, they're both people who have been wronged by society/the people who should have protected and loved them, they have great chemistry and are unbothered by each other's respective quirks, etc etc" AND THEN SHE WAS KILLED :')))))

Impression now: I am Angry about the way she was treated as a character. I know all the short stories were meant to kind of play off of existing fairy tales and make them darker, but damn why didn't Renfri get to live her best Snow White life ): She deserved to live. She deserved to make out with Geralt a bunch more times.

Favorite moment: THE SWORD FIGHT AHHHHH honestly I don't think I'd ever appreciated a sword fight in media until I saw the Renfri Vs Geralt one. Iconic.

Idea for a story: Once upon a time I did write a little tiny thing for @annablume's idea of pirate!Renfri and Lady!Geralt and honestly I am a little sad I didn't write more because that was truly inspired.... I still think about it sometimes, even now that I'm not really into Witcher stuff anymore.

Unpopular opinion: She should have been Geralt's girlfriend/wife instead of Yennefer. Sorry not sorry.

Favorite relationship: In case it wasn't obvious......Renfri/Geralt 5ever thank you goodbye

Favorite headcanon: She did not die!!! It was all a RUSE!!!!!! She faked her death, waited until Geralt left town, gathered up her squad, and she's still out there somewhere causing havoc and living her best life. You can rip this headcanon from my cold dead fingers.

2) Jack Harkness (Doctor Who)

First impression: I really cannot remember because I watched Doctor Who for the first time SO LONG AGO!!!! I think I remember not really liking him much? He's very much a snarky playboy at first and it's not as endearing straight off the bat before you get to know him.

Impression now: I liked him! He's one of my favorite reoccurring characters and while I didn't watch Torchwood, I'm glad he got his own show!

Favorite moment: I can't remember the episode number or title, but when they're on that space station that has turned into deadly game shows? That entire episode. Every one of his moments in that episode.

Idea for a story: I don't really think about stories for Doctor Who. I don't know why, I think the vastness of it intimidates me lol

Unpopular opinion: I don't think I have one for him!

Favorite relationship: I thought his kiss with Nine was pretty intriguing. If I didn't ship Nine and Ten so hard with Rose, Jack would be my next choice.

Favorite headcanon: I can't remember if this ended up being canon or not but he is the Face of Boe! I know I've seen it discussed before, way back in the day, during the height of SuperWhoLock.

3) Cobb Vanth (The Mandalorian)

First impression: Completely neutral. Just another weird space cowboy character. I thought his silver hair was cool though.

Impression now: A weird space cowboy with cool silver hair that I would commit crimes for.

Favorite moment: Any of the times he is actively being all marshal-y towards the townsfolk. The man EXUDES competence and confidence and we love that in this house.

Idea for a story: I always love to think about how a reunion between him and Din would go. I think he's someone Din trusts, having fought such a huge and powerful common enemy together, and I'd love to see them have some time to get to know each other under significantly less pressure. Just some quality bonding time. With some light making out. Maybe not so light, who knows!!!!!!

Unpopular opinion: The fandom is bad at writing convincing Cobb dialogue. People tend to either completely overdo the drawl or don't play it up enough to convey him convincingly. Maybe it's because I live in a part of the world where that accent is common and I hear it daily, but its VERY rare that I read a fic with him in it and the way he speaks doesn't make me cringe.

Favorite relationship: I like him with Din a lot! I think they have very good chemistry and have enough in common to get along pretty well. I also (along with maybe 2 or 3 other people) ship him with Boba Fett. I cannot explain to you why this ship works but I promise it does. I think its the "enemies to still enemies but they fuck sometimes to lovers" aspect.

Favorite headcanon: It's never shown or acknowledged in the show, but Cobb was raised a slave on Tatooine. He has a scar that denotes his status as such on the back of his neck. He also has a scar on the side of his face near his temple that isn't ever given an explanation. We know from the Prequel movies that the slaves on Tatooine have chips in their bodies to prevent them from escaping, so I think that scar on Cobb's face is where he was able to have his taken out or where he cut it out himself so he could escape from slavery.

4) 1 random Sailor Moon character...I'll go with Sailor Moon herself

First impression: She's much less of a commanding presence than I would have assumed! She seems like a very well portrayed teen girl! (I went into my first episode of this show with absolutely NO previous experience with it, and Anna has me watching from the middle of the 5th season)

Impression now: I've only seen three episodes and I think my first impression still stands. I knew she was young, but she really does come across as age appropriate as opposed to how mature some anime teen characters are. She's passionate, but in a very child-like way, and its offset a lot by her carefree and sweet personality.

Favorite moment: Literally any time she yells out one of those signature named attacks. They're so ridiculous, did NO ONE speak ANY English when these lines were approved lmao It's actually pretty fun to watch each episode and see how progressively funny the attack names get so that's enjoyable.

Idea for a story: I've only seen three episodes, we're definitely not in story imagining territory yet lol

Unpopular opinion: Again, I'm only three episodes in, so I haven't formed enough of an opinion about anything to comment on yet!

Favorite relationship: I've seen approximately 30 seconds of her with her canon bf Mamoru and they're fine I guess??? Little bit of an age gap but that's common in anime. He seems like a decent enough dude, he just has terrible taste in jewelry :b Anna is doing her best to subtly influence me in the direction of Seiya/Usagi and honestly I am not opposed to that. Seiya is cool and has enormous BDE which contrasts nicely with Usagi's goofiness and sweetness.

Favorite headcanon: Haven't seen enough to have any yet! :)

5) Shrek (Shrek)

First impression: This movie came out in 2001. I CANNOT remember. I do know that I saw it in theaters, though.

Impression now: Relatable af. I too would prefer people got out of my swamp and left me alone. I also tend to isolate myself because I often feel like an outsider no one wants to be around :')))))

Favorite moment: The whole development of his relationship with Fiona was very realistic and cute. The montage of her participating in the weird ogre activities he likes and genuinely liking them too was just....really good.

Idea for a story: I will not be writing Shrek fanfic,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,I did base an AU around Shrek once or twice though.,,,,,,,,,,,

Unpopular opinion: Human Shrek looks like Eskel from tw3. I will not be accepting criticism at this time nor ever.

Favorite relationship: I loved that he found a kindred spirit in Fiona <3

Favorite headcanon: I honestly do not think about Shrek enough to have headcanons.

THANK U ANNA <3

[winterscaptain]

infirmity.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: part four of our 100 arc, covering 5x02, haunted! I forgot how much i love this episode, so i really leaned into this one. it’s a labor of love!! i can’t wait to hear what you all think (i crave feedback and affection) and if you reblog, i’d love to see your cheeky lil thoughts in the tags!!

an ajf fic arc that happily stands on its own! one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

words: 4.3k warnings: language, bad decisions

summary: “a friend should bear his friend’s infirmities” - william shakespeare, julius caesar.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You knock on the door at 8:30 sharp. Almost thirty seconds pass before he answers, and you note the hand on his holster as he opens the door. 

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you chirp. “Ready to go?”

He turns, gathering his things. “What do we know about this case in Kentucky?”

Thrown a little by the lack of greeting, you follow him into the apartment. The sight of the Foyet files on his desk aren’t foreign to you, nor are they a surprise. They’ve been there every time you came over during his leave (in fact, you’ve sat on them more than once), so why you expected them to go away once he was back you had no idea.

“Um, no connection between Call and his victims. They’re canvassing, but no sign of him so far.”

“Start with his recent history. Find the stressor.” His voice is flat, impassive, and you frown. 

He was just getting better…

You’re about to head back toward the door when -

“Don’t move.”

Right. The alarm. 

He stands by to arm it. “Ready?”

“Are you?”

+++

You arrive at the tarmac, Hotch in the passenger seat of your car. He looks a little resigned, but straightens and takes a breath before he opens the door, settling into his role as he steps out and straightens his suit jacket. 

It’s always a little funny to watch him transform. You’re honored you get to see it, even if he’s in rough shape. 

Especially then. 

You climb the stairs and follow him in, settling in your usual place. 

“Good to see you,” Dave says as Aaron scoots down the aisle. It makes you smile. 

“You, too.”

Aaron gets settled and you shift, trying not to hover but finding it difficult to be separated from him after his weeks of absence. He greets the rest of the team, exchanging pleasantries and checking in with Reid about his knee. 

“Any other attacks?”

JJ shakes her head, while Spencer elaborates. “Call’s proven hard to track. He’s never had a driver's license so he’s probably still on foot.”

“Or public transportation,” Emily notes.

You hum. “He wouldn’t take the bus. His face is everywhere.”

“Has anyone found a stressor?” You weren’t sure if Aaron’s brusque affect was going to continue once you made it to the plane, but his tone just about answers your question. 

Stepping back into authority quickly, there, Aaron. 

“He just lost his job,” Garcia supplies. “He’s worked at a factory since 1990. Made appliances since forever and not a single promotion.”

Derek tilts his head. “That’s a long time to be bitter.”

“Or he doesn’t care?”

JJ looks at Spencer and shakes her head. “Not if he’s got a family to feed.” 

“Actually, he’s of the hermit variety as far as I can tell. He’s got no one. No wife, no kids, no parents.” You watch Garcia’s eyes flicker around the screen as she talks to you, doing what she does best. 

“Nothing to live for.”  Derek’s looking a little too pointedly at Aaron for your taste, but your evaluation is interrupted. 

“So why hasn’t he killed himself yet?”

Your brain sputters at Aaron’s offhand delivery. “What?”

“Sprees usually end in suicide. If he’s got nothing to live for, why hasn’t he ended it?”

The energy in the room grows uncomfortable, fast. Aaron’s voice is still flat - you might go so far as to say it sounds dead, but that inspires a kind of heavy sullenness in your chest you’d rather not subject yourself to. 

You wish Haley was around for no other reason but to kick his ass. 

You’re thankful for Spencer when he answers Hotch’s question. “Because he isn’t finished, yet. We know he has displaced anger. He took it out on the first victim.”

“Well,” Aaron continues, “the stock boy represents someone. We need to know who.”

You meet Derek’s eyes and you can tell he’s trying to read you - trying to see if you’re as concerned as he is. You don’t give him the satisfaction. 

+++

Later, you corner Morgan on the plane before landing, keeping your voice low. The case is in your lap so there’s a valid distraction when you need one. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He stops and turns. “I thought Hotch was cleared to drive.” 

“He is.”

“Then why did you pick him up this morning?”

You shrug. “I wanted to.” His eyes bore into the side of your head and you look up with an exasperated huff. “What?”

He sighs. “He’s only had a month off.”

“Well,” you say, aware that you’re being pedantic before you even get there, “thirty-four days. That’s a little more than a month.”

His stare is withering, but you’re impervious. “And you think that’s long enough?”

“Are you asking me as his coworker or as his friend?”

“Is there a difference?”

You shrug. “Maybe.” Yes. “But if you don’t think he’s had enough time, you should tell him.”

He scoffs. “No thanks. I like my job.”

“You like him more.” A little smile crosses your face. “Though, I know you don’t like to think so.”

“No. I like you.” Derek corrects. “He also happens to like you, so I tolerate him for your benefit.”

“Much appreciated.” You return to your work, but Derek’s eyes linger. You don’t look up as you ask, “What?”

“What if he has PTSD?”

Still writing, you answer with a general air of nonchalance. “He was evaluated.”

“Oh, come on. We wrote those questions. Hotch knows exactly -“

You slam your pen down and lean back with your arms crossed. You draw Spencer's eyes and lower your voice again. “So, what? Are you going to pick at me until you get me to say something you want me to say?” You let out a sardonic chuff, settling back to work. “If that’s the case, you’re gonna be here a while.” You tip your head a little toward the little table by the window. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

You admittedly feel a little bad for being short with him, but everything seems to be testing your patience today. 

And if you’re honest, you’re worried about Aaron, too. 

After a few minutes of work in silence, you call out to him again. There’s the smallest of apologies in your voice. “Derek?”

He looks at you, dark eyes open and yielding - concerned and forgiving. “Yeah?”

“He’s back because he has to be. He needs to know we’re here for him.”

“He knows that.”

You offer him a small smile. “Don’t let him forget it.” You pause, your head wavering a little bit as your tone turns a touch facetious. “I can’t do all the heavy lifting around here.”

You get a laugh out of him - just a little one - and it’s enough. “Don’t push it, kid. I remember when you were dead weight.”

You roll your eyes. 

That’s enough, for now. 

+++

Even your seemingly-endless patience with Aaron rapidly wanes as you spend more time at the crime scene. It’s frustrating. 

“He was on an antipsychotic?” You ask with a little frown. 

The pharmacist nods. “Well, that’s why I wanted him to calm down. He’s been off of them at least a month, now.” 

“And when were you going to tell us this?” Aaron asks, harsh and sharp. 

You look at him, your frown deepening. 

What the fuck is that attitude?

“He’s armed, he’s delusional. Who’s his doctor?” Hotch’s tone grows even pointier, somehow, as he pushes harder. 

“I don’t remember - my computer…” She gestures behind the desk, where the computer has been fried by a bullet. 

“Great. That’s great.” He walks away, already making a call. 

“Excuse us,” you say in an attempt to recover. Derek echoes you and you try to avoid running after Hotch as he strides down the aisle. 

Long-legged asshole. Slow down. 

“Hotch,” you call. He doesn’t listen. 

“Call JJ and tell her about the meds.” He’s still walking. You’ve caught up. 

Derek chimes in, gesturing back at the pharmacist. “This is not her fault.”

Aaron turns on him. “Morgan, he’s in a psychotic break. It changes everything.”

“You want to talk about this?” Derek asks, taking another step closer. 

Squaring up to Derek’s shoulder, you’re ready to pull them apart if they get really heated. 

Wouldn’t be the first time.

In some ways, Morgan’s admission on the plane was truer than he let on. You are the link between Derek and Aaron, almost like a balm. You see things in them that they can’t see in each other. It helps. 

With a pang, you think of Haley, for some reason. 

You miss her. 

“No.” Aaron’s interruption is sharp and it startles you out of your thoughts. “I want to find him - Garcia,” he turns, continuing on his warpath forward, “he’s been off his antipsychotic for a month. What else did you miss?”

Your mouth drops open and Derek’s about to deck Aaron while his back is turned. You push in front of Derek, getting between them to give him a chance to cool off. The last thing you want is to handle more wound dressings - for either one of them. 

Aaron hangs up and walks out after what you imagine is a rather unilluminating update from Penelope. You turn, putting your hand on Derek’s shoulder and looking him in the eye. 

Still think he’s alright? His eyes ask.

 You grit your teeth. I don’t know. 

+++

The psychiatrist and patient lay dead on the floor, Call nowhere in sight. Derek directs the local officers to check the perimeter, just in case. 

You look at Hotch, who still doesn’t look completely checked in, himself. 

Or maybe he looks too checked in?

I don’t know. 

You’d be lying if you said his behavior didn’t freak you out. Though he’s standing beside you, you miss him. 

Come back to me. 

You miss the man who pliantly sat under your hands as you washed his wounds and brought him takeout and forced him to take naps in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday. 

You miss the man who fought you for the remote and stole far too many of your fries, who would change the channel if you made the mistake of going to the bathroom on a commercial break. 

That man was with you as late as Saturday. Returning has brought something else out in him, the part of him that spent (often very) late nights looking for Foyet has risen to the forefront. 

“We’re too late.” 

Before the rest of you can do anything, Aaron leaves the room, pushing past Dave in his haste to leave. 

Emily calls after him, but he’s long gone down the hallway. They look at you. 

All you can do is shake your head with a downturned curve of your mouth. 

+++

After a little while, you go downstairs and find Hotch outside. Before you can say anything - 

“I should have seen the blinking on the video.” 

You huff at him. “Hotch, it could have been a nervous tic. You couldn’t have known - none of the records were available, yet.” 

“But it wasn’t a tic. It’s a classic sign of long-term antipsychotic use, and I missed it.”

You step in front of him, squarely meeting his eyes. “We all missed it.” 

He’s got another pessimistic jab that you choose to ignore just before Emily and Dave arrive with news from Garcia. 

Oh, Aaron. 

+++

The officer huffs. “I don’t care why he took him.” 

Aaron had, once again, escalated the situation with local police. Tensions are high, and you only hope he can get his shit together at some point. “You should.” 

Goddamn it, Aaron. 

He continues, advancing on the police captain. “Call’s memory is no longer suppressed. He’s reinventing his past and unless we understand how, we’re not going to find either of them.”

“Well, I’m not gonna just sit around and speculate.” 

It’s an old-fashioned Western standoff, now. 

Who’s Clint Eastwood?

Well, Hotch has the looks but -

Quit. 

Fine. 

“Then don’t.”

The captain turns to you, Emily, and Dave. “You don’t think we should chase him either?”

“We need to get ahead of Call,” Dave answers evenly. 

The captain looks at Aaron once more before storming off. The rest of you approach Hotch, and Emily’s a little frustrated when she reminds him, “There’s a kid missing.” 

“They don’t need the extra manpower.” 

You squint at him. “Since when?”

“If we had studied Foyet’s initial crimes -”

Oh for the love of fuck. 

“- we would have known that a survivor didn’t make sense.”

“What does he have to do with this?”

Great question, Emily.

“All we had to do was stop and look at Foyet’s history. But we didn’t, and we lost two couples and a bus full of people. I am not making that mistake again.” He leaves the three of you stunned in his wake. After a moment, you follow him. 

You always do. 

+++

“Let’s go.” 

You’ve got the address to the unsub’s home and you take the car with Aaron, the rest of the team following behind you. 

He drives fast, but that’s nothing new. He throws the siren and floors it. You call SWAT yourself, getting Derek prepared for staging. 

When you get out of the car, you throw your vest on, helping Emily with the straps across her shoulders before she can reach them themselves. 

“Prentiss,” Aaron says, putting his earwig in. “Check in with the lieutenant, see if there’s anything we can use.” 

She nods. “Yes, sir.” 

“You good?” You ask, looking over at him. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

You throw your head to the side, and he takes your flank as you get closer to Emily. Her briefing with this particular lieutenant could go sideways, but you don’t want to leave him feeling trapped. 

“...The kid’s in there. We got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. He’s still focused on the old man.”

Emily squints, adjusting her comm. “For now, but we’re gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out.”

“I’ve got a team in the back and one on the way. We’re going to infiltrate.” 

“You do that and someone else dies.” The balance of firm and collaborative rests delicately on her tone. She’s doing well. 

“Either Call or a child murder. Flip a coin.” 

His tone frustrates you, but you leave Emily to her devices, checking your magazines for the third time. Your sidearm is in place, as is your backup. 

“It doesn’t have to end like that. We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die.” She pauses, and a streak of white flashes in your peripheral. “Hotch!” 

You whirl, ready to sprint after him as he walks decisively past the rest of you, past the gate, and into the house. After a moment’s hesitation, you make a break for it. A wall of arms stops you, and you know Derek’s behind you when you hear, “What the hell is he doing?”

No vest...Is he even carrying his gun? 

“Let him go.” 

You turn on Dave, your face plastered with fear and fury. “What do you mean let him go. Rossi -”

“I’m not letting him go in there solo.” Derek pushes against Dave again, but to your surprise, he’s locked in tight. 

“We have to trust him.” 

That cools Derek off, but not you. You thrash, freeing yourself from one of the local cops. “The hell we do.” 

“Kid - wait, no.” The roles reverse, and Derek catches up to you and locks you in his arms before you can breach the perimeter. Your elbows don’t land against his vest, but you sure try. “You’ll get him killed.” 

There’s only stress and silence as you stop struggling. All you can do is wait. 

Derek keeps his arm around you, but you almost feel like the contact is for both of you. You take deep breaths, trying to slow your heart rate. It’s through the roof. 

“What’s he doing?” Emily asks into her mic. 

Dave leans into his comm. “Stalling.” 

You can almost feel Derek’s jaw tightening. “He has nothing to lose.” 

He has everything to lose. 

You have everything to lose. 

Don’t be a hero, Aaron. Don’t do anything stupid. 

You hope that he can hear you somehow. 

Too late. 

Hotch appears in the window, followed by the boy. 

There’s a quick SWAT conversation in your ear. 

“Do you have the shot?”

“Negative, negative.”

He’s blocking the shot. 

Goddamn you, Aaron. Goddamn you. 

“Bringing the boy out,” a faceless voice on the radio says. The hostage runs down off the porch and you catch a glimpse of Aaron before he disappears behind the door again. 

You turn your head a touch, keeping your eyes on the door. “Get him out of there.” 

Dave shakes his head. “That’s his call.” 

Your body is wound tighter than a coil and you’re not sure if you’re ready to storm in there or just start walking home. 

There’s a gunshot, and you’re out of there like a bat out of hell. You launch yourself over the short fence and attach yourself to the first SWAT agent you see, remembering your training at the last moment. 

You breach the house and find Aaron cuffing Darin, whose father is dead in the armchair in front of him. Your jaw has never been tighter. 

Once you confirm that he is in fact still alive and still only has nine holes in him, you turn on your heel and you storm out of the house. You don’t stop until you’re leaning on the front of one of the cars, trying to catch your breath. Your hands shake and you don’t trust your knees to hold you up. 

The relief wars with something hot and unpleasant, leaving you more exhausted than you’ve been in weeks. 

You keep your head turned away from Aaron as he approaches you. It’s petty, but you also don’t want him to see the fear on your face. 

He calls you with a sigh in his voice and it finally ignites the fear into anger. 

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you spit. Your voice isn’t loud, but it certainly carries. JJ’s eyes flicker to you from the other side of the yard. “What kind of stunt are you trying to pull? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” 

His jaw tightens. “Let’s not do this here.” 

Your brow draws across your eyes and your mouth opens, indignant. “Let’s not do this here? You’re fucking kidding me.”

In his current state, nothing is off the table. His temper is running short and you know you’re capable of pushing him until he breaks. It hasn’t happened yet, but today might be it.  

Much to your surprise, a sigh leaves him, and he knows he’s stepped in it. “It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You scoff, shaking your head. 

His remorse only stokes your anger. Go figure. 

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry. You could have died, Hotch. What you did was so beyond protocol I don’t even know if I should start with the necessity of your life because we need you as our unit chief or the importance of your safety as my friend -” You cut yourself off and look away from him, frustrated you even got that far. 

He has nothing to say to that. You’re completely right. The guilt might as well be written across his face in Sharpie. 

His absence fucked with you, to say the least. It felt awful, empty, in the field without him. And then when you were home - well, back at the apartment, he was only ever in pain. 

Overall, your anxiety regarding his health and safety is riding high. 

Much to your frustration, your eyes water, and your lower lip shakes - angry tears an ever-present threat. Your arms cross over your chest. “I can’t even look at you right now.” 

He reaches out for your arm, but you throw him off before he can make contact, turning your head. You stare at the ground, watching him flounder out of the corner of your eye. 

“Go. Go do your fucking job, Hotch.” His nickname is acid in your mouth. It feels like a punishment, a lash of a whip. He doesn’t move, and you turn on him, meeting his guilty brown eyes with your flinty ones. “Go. Make the arrest. They’re waiting on you.” You throw your chin to Derek and Emily, who are indeed waiting for him on the porch with the unsub. 

With another heavy sigh, he turns and rejoins the rest of your team. 

You stay where you are, directing coroner and local law enforcement personnel to relevant staging areas as the crime scene is processed and handled. Aaron’s eyes try to find yours, but you avoid them, focusing on someone, anyone else with crisp professionalism that hardly belies your fear. 

You’ve never been so angry in your life. Even if you have, you can’t remember it feeling this wretched.

+++

He sits beside you on the plane once you’re up in the air and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. The rest of the team sleeps scattered around the cabin, but you suspect that at least one of them is faking it, waiting for some kind of spectacle or spectacular blowup between the two of you. 

You haven’t spoken to Aaron since leaving the crime scene. You drove back to the precinct with Emily and Dave, staying close to JJ and Spencer while you packed your things. There’s a part of you that feels bad for creating what Strauss would call a “hostile work environment,” but the other part can’t bring itself to care. 

You can’t even begin to articulate the fear that coursed through you as you waited for him outside that house. You couldn’t begin to explain the extent of your fear, but after the stabbing and the removal of Haley and Jack from your lives, the prospect of losing him in the field was beyond unbearable. 

It’s frustrating to feel so comforted by his proximity while you’re still so angry with him. The familiarity of it all hardly blunts your anger. If anything, the relief at having him back at your side sharpens your anger into something that scares you. 

The impossibility of it is beyond measure. You’ve known for some time now, but this is the first you’re willing to admit it. 

I love him. 

Fuck.

You love him. You love his son. You love his wife. 

You love the weird look he gets on his face when he has to say “penetration” while he’s delivering a profile. You love the way he tries not to smile when Emily beats Spencer at chess. You love the way he twiddles with pens when he’s thinking or nervous or both. You love that each of his smiles feel like a gift just for you. 

There’s nothing you don’t love about him. 

Except, of course, the way he, with profound idiocy, endangered his life today for no particular reason in addition to his generally asshole-ish behavior. 

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m sure you know that.” 

You do.

He waits on you, quiet and still. 

You take a deep breath, finally looking at him. “You scared the hell out of me.” 

He nods, his jaw flexing. 

“Don’t do it again.” 

He blinks once, slowly. You know he can’t promise that, but you appreciate his acknowledgment nevertheless. There’s quiet for a moment. 

“Aaron…” You look at him, nothing but concern in your tone. 

He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“I was just going to say…” You swallow, trying to find better words but coming up short. “We’ll get him.”

+++

Derek’s voice echoes down to the bullpen as you finish up the last few pieces of your paperwork. “I will not stand by and watch this man kill himself.” 

Aaron’s door is closed as he works. You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if you’d rather he hear it. You can’t really hear Dave - not that you’d want to, you’re almost as pissed at him as you are at Aaron - but it doesn’t matter. You know what he has to say. 

Derek’s voice drops lower than you can hear. Dave drops his head. 

Moments later, Derek flies back down the stairs, grabs his jacket, and takes his leave with a cursory goodbye thrown in your direction. Dave returns to his desk and Aaron’s door finally opens. 

You look up as his lights turn off, gathering your things at your desk. With a little sigh that looks a bit like defeat, he stops at your desk. The smugness doesn’t completely leave your tone. “Need a ride?”

Of course, he does. “Please.” 

You rise and walk to the elevators together. In the silence, you tell him, “I’m still really mad at you.” 

A sigh. “I know.” 

+++

You walk him upstairs and take care of the alarm while he removes his suit jacket and throws it over the couch. 

“Do you think Call’s gonna be okay?” You ask, still facing the alarm. 

“I don’t know.”

“He got his answers,” you note, turning to him. “He killed the man who haunted him.” 

His eyes are fixed on a spot on the carpet. “And what else is there?”

“Years of torture.” You both know you’re not talking about Call anymore, but it’s nice to pretend. It gives you the opportunity to say things you wouldn’t - shouldn’t - say to him. “Fear. Grief.”

“Think he’ll get over that?” 

“How could he?” A humorless smile pulls at one corner of your mouth. “But at least he doesn't feel like he’s alone.”

He finally meets your eyes. “He doesn’t have anyone.” I don’t have anyone, his brow says. 

“He has Tommy. He’s not alone.” 

You have me. You’re not alone. 

His brows pull low over his eyes, and you take another opportunity as it comes. “Do you want me to stay again tonight?”

“No, I’m alright.” He takes a little breath and you round the corner, pouring him a couple fingers of whiskey before making a slow, purposeful trek across the room. “Thank you,” he says, taking it. 

“Of course. Anytime.” Now, you both know you aren’t talking about the drink. 

Nevertheless, you pat your pockets for your keys, phone, and various federal paraphernalia, finding them all where they belong. “I should head out, then. Call if you need anything.” 

He nods, watching you with quiet eyes as you close and lock the door behind you. 

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless​ @jdougl-love​ @sageellsworth05​ @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile  @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @spencerelds @the-falling-in-the-danger @nattylite49 @crazyshannonigans

[evolmaze]

not like this

summary - you go to a party ready to hang out with your friends, but your best friend has other ideas that involve you, a closet, seven minutes, and a close friend you swore you’d never tell

pairing - jin x reader ft. other members of bts and other o.c.s!

genre - fluff, angst | ftl!au, nonidol!au

word count - 5.0k words

warnings - mentions of drinking, otherwise nothing else!

a/n: this is totally inspired by that one episode of New Girl where Nick and Jess are stuck behind the door and Nick tells Jess that he doesn’t want kiss her, “not like this” hence the title lol. Not quite the same plotline, but was definitely my inspiration for it!

masterlist

You had always loved Saturday nights, the one day a week where you could literally do nothing all day and not feel guilty about it. The one night a week where you got to see most of your friends, hang out, and of course, get tipsy and play a bunch of stupid games; tonight was no different.

You had arrived at your friend Alexa’s house, a little late, and by the looks of it, you were the last to arrive. Your friend group wasn’t enormously big, just around six or so depending on the night, any more and things usually got out of hand. There was you, Alexa, your mutual friend Lia, and then the boys: Yoongi, Jin, and Namjoon. You all had become friends while in university, and you’re happy to say you were able to remain friends afterward. Sometimes the boys would bring their other friends, ones they had met through work, and tonight you were happy to see Jimin, Tae, Jungkook, and Hoseok here as well. You didn’t know them as well, but every time you hung with them, they had been nothing but kind. If you’re honest, the people you knew best here were Jin and Alexa, the three of you had lived in the same dorm freshman year, and since then, you had been inseparable.

“y/n!” Alexa called excitedly, crossing the room to greet you. “I was afraid you weren’t gonna make it!”

“Sorry,” you exclaimed, “Literally got halfway here and realized I had forgotten the chips!” she laughed, taking them from you, and setting them on the counter next to the taco dip; a classic staple in your university days. “I see everyone else is already here.” you mused, scanning the room.

“Yeah, don’t worry though, Jimin and Tae literally got here five minutes before you,” she laughed, and set a hand on your shoulder, slightly turning you towards the back of the room. “But he’s been here all night, asking me every couple minutes if I’ve heard from you,” she whispered, you were sure she was wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You looked across the room, and saw Jin, laughing with Hoseok and Jungkook. He hadn’t seen you yet, and selfishly you loved that you were able to stare at him carefree, taking in all the things you loved about him. You hadn’t seen him in a while, school kept you both busy, and with both of you working part time jobs, a couple weeks had gone by since your last hang out. God how you had missed him. 

“You’re staring..” Alexa chuckled, as your best friend, and friend who had also known Jin the longest, she knew all about your crush on him. She was actually the one who called you out on it first, and from then on, she loved to tease you about it, but in all honesty, if she didn’t know, and wasn’t there for you to give advice or listen to you rant, you’re sure you would have gone insane by now.

“Ahhh, yeah,” you laughed nervously, tearing your view from him, and facing her. “God, it’s getting worse isn’t it?”

“Noooo,” she said, obviously lying, but you appreciated the false confidence. “Okay, maybe, but you’re in love, how else are you supposed to cope with that?”

“Oooh, I’d say drinking my sorrows away so I don’t have to think about how he’ll never like me back.” you laughed, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Alexa looked at you, concerned. “Lex I’m fine, seriously. I’ve come to terms with it, and at this point, he’s just a placeholder till I find someone new.”

“I’ve always said this, and I stand by it: Jin is so fucking stupid. Thick as a brick.”

“Yah!” he suddenly called from across the room. “Alexa are you talking shit?” you laughed, trying to figure out how much he heard.

“Absolutely not,” she said, looking towards you. “But y/n totally was!”

“Lex!” you yelled, embarrassed. You looked up, making eye contact with Jin, and his face lit up. 

“y/n! Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” he said, coming over to you. Alexa winked and left to go talk to Lia. He came up to you, immediately crushing you in a hug. Your face was right up against his chest, you could smell his cologne, and god was it intoxicating. 

“Sorry, I literally just got here!” you said, pulling your head back to look at him, he smiled down at you, his arms around your waist. You could stay like this forever.

“Hmmm, I suppose I can forgive you then.” he joked, slowly letting go of you, his fingers lingering a little too long. You tried your best to remain calm, and not think about the way it felt to be held by him. He cleared his throat, taking a slight step back, you looked at him expectantly. “Whatcha drinking?” he asked, and you held up your drink you had grabbed earlier. “Oh,” he laughed, ears turning red in embarrassment, and you grinned, god you loved this man.

----

The night had progressed rather smoothly, you were impressed. Usually, nights like this took a turn for the worst during a game of Pictionary, but so far, things had been fine! Everyone seemed to be having a great time, and you couldn’t have been happier. Currently, you all sat in a circle playing a childish game of never have I ever. You knew these were childish, but secretly you loved them, all the games you never got to play in high school cause you didn’t go to parties. Except instead of fingers down, everyone also took a shot. Currently, Jimin and Lia were tied for first place with each having nine out of ten fingers down. You only had four down, but it didn’t really matter.

“Never have I ever recreated the scene from titanic in front of the whole school only to realize Rose was played by my professor,” Tae snickered, looking directly at Jimin.

“Not fair,” he laughed, putting a finger down, and taking a shot. “That’s targeting!” everyone laughed, and Jimin grinned, taking a seat back down.

“Okay okay okay,” Alexa said suddenly, gathering everyone’s attention. “Let’s switch up the game, we’ve been playing this for an hour, and if Jimin has to take one more shot, I don’t want to be the one responsible for taking him to the hospital tonight.”

“I’m fine!” he laughed, and it was mildly true, everyone here seemed to have a pretty high tolerance, and being out of university, it seems the activities had mildly mellowed out. No excessive drinking tonight. 

“Okay, what game are you thinking of Lex?” Lia asked, and Alexa paused before getting a thoughtful look on her face. 

You watched as she looked towards you, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Since we’re on a roll with high school parties games, why not a fun couple rounds of seven minutes in heaven?” The group was split, some laughed in encouragement, while others, like yourself, seemed confused, you all were friends wouldn’t that be weird? “Okay wait, let me finish. We’ll switch up the rules so it’s not weird. The two people can go in there and decide what to do, kiss or take two shots each.”

You laughed, it seemed stupid still, but why the hell not? You were probably a little tipsy at this point, so why not indulge in this juvenile game. “How do we decide who goes in?” you asked.

“We’ll start with a random person to go in the closet, and then the group decides who goes in after them. But the catch is, the person alone in the closet has to face the wall so they cant see who comes in with them. So since they can’t see each other, in order to drink or kiss, they have to correctly guess who it is. Make sense?” Everyone nodded, and you eagerly awaited to see who was first.

“Who wants to go first?” Jimin asked, and the group went silent. “What about y/n?” you looked up, confused.

“Why me?” you questioned.

“Why not?” he questioned back, and you laughed. 

“Okay fine,” you agreed, looking down at everyone as you stood up. “Alright, whichever one of you comes in, be ready to take shots!” everyone laughed, and you grinned, making eye contact with Alexa, that same stupid glint in her eye.

“Don’t sound so sure,” she laughed, and you blushed, quickly turning towards the closet. You opened the door, and entered, shutting it behind you. You wondered who they would send it, though with Alexa's knowing look you had a feeling it wasn't going to be good. It was a mystery how much time had passed by the time you heard the door open behind you.

“Hello mystery stranger,” you called, waiting for the door to shut again before turning around. 

“You have seven minutes, y/n!” Alexa called, followed by a chorus of cheers. “Guess correctly and you can thank me later!”

You furrowed your eyebrows at that, that must have been a clue, right? “Hmm, how should I go about this, because I’m assuming you’re not allowed to speak, right? That’d make it too easy,” you pondered, and with no response from the person in front of you, you presumed you were right.

“Okay, I have an idea.” you declared, holding your hands out in front of you. “My hands are in front of you right now, grab one of them.” You waited patiently for them to do so, and soon enough you felt something hit the side of your hand. “That’s my hand, grab it.”

They grabbed your hand, and you immediately registered that they had large hands, long fingers, there was no way this was Lia or Lexa, they both had comically small hands. On second thought, so did Jimin, so that left the rest of the boys. “Here’s what I’m thinking, I’ll ask you a series of questions, and if the answer is yes then squeeze my hand once, if it’s no, then squeeze my hand twice. Make sense?”

One squeeze. “Okay, cool cool. Let’s see,” you pondered, trying to think of a question that would get the most people out at once. “Oh! Okay, do you have roommates?”

Two squeezes, “Okay, well that rules out Jungkook and Tae since they live together.  Do you have a pet?”

Two squeezes again, “Well alright, then you’re not Namjoon or Yoongi either. So you’re either Hoseok or Jin.” you stalled for a second, wondering what the odds were that this was Jin in front of you. Alexa wouldn’t do that to you would she? Who are you kidding, she’s tipsy, of course, she would. Your heartbeat increased mildly at the possibility that this was Jin and the possibility that you two would kiss, but you knew deep down that if it was him, you’d rather just take shots because kissing him in this closet was not at all how you wanted to do it.

“Final question,” you said aloud, figuring out what you would ask. “Do you feel strongly about the financial crisis in Ecuador?” A laugh from the person in front of you confirmed your suspicions, it was Jin. Whenever the two of you were together and ran out of things to talk about, he would always ask you the most random of questions, that one is one of his favorites. 

“I feel very strongly about it, almost as strongly as I feel about the American peanut butter famine of 1834,” he joked, and you laughed, it was such a dumb joke, but it got you every single time. It absolutely had nothing to do with him, and you thinking he was the funniest person alive, not at all.

The two of you quieted down, and you heard Jimin call for four minutes left. Suddenly, you remembered why you were here, and what you had to decide. “So,” you said, trying to decide how you were gonna get out of this. “How’s it going?”

“Oh you know, just grand,” he said, and you heard him shifting his weight from one foot to another. It was then that you also realized he was still holding your hand, cute. “You have a decision to make, don’t you?” he asked, and you blushed, thank god for the darkness of this closet.

“I think it’s a group consensus, no?” you asked.

Jin chuckled, and you felt his thumb run over your knuckles, your mind raced at the feeling. “I mean sure, but I’m cool with either.” You were pretty sure that you died of cardiac failure after he said that, there was no way he had just said that.  “Plus the idea of taking two shots right now makes me wanna die,”

“Hmm, you did kinda suck at taking shots,” you joked, trying to ease your nerves, and he playfully swatted your shoulder. Your hand hung loosely at your side, and you took the moment to wipe the sweat off on your jeans. “So you’re cool with either? You’re sure?” you asked, your voice slightly panicky.

You sensed his arm moved as it wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You held your breath, what the fuck was going on. “I’m sure, are you?”

You felt your head get fuzzy and you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or the way you could feel each of his fingers as they rested on the small of your back, but you definitely weren’t sober anymore. “I don’t want to kiss you in the closet,” you said quickly, your hand instinctively balling into a fist. “Not like this.”

“What do you mean?” he asked quietly, a touch of hurt in his voice, your heart ached at the sound. “Would you rather take the shots?”

“No, no, no,” you said frantically, releasing his hand and taking a step back. Even though you knew this was low risk, you’d have to absolutely be blind to not understand the elephant in this closet with you two, you still felt terrified of rejection. “I-I can’t see you, I want to be able to see you.”

At that moment, the door flung open, the light from the outside streaming in, and all you saw was Jin’s face as he looked at you as if he had never seen you before. You wanted to cry, but instead, you pushed past him, and grabbed a bottle of peppermint schnapps off the counter, quickly downing two shots, before going out onto the porch. You absolutely needed some air. 

The commotion from inside followed you faintly as you shut the door, everyone was confused, but drunk enough to move on rather quickly, sending Jungkook into the closet, before sending someone else in after him. You paid them no mind, too busy feeling sorry for yourself that even when the moment was perfect, you still found a way to ruin it for yourself. He had literally told you he wanted to kiss you, and you had ruined it with your stupid insecurities, go figure.

The sliding door opened and you looked up as he stepped out onto the porch, blanket in one hand, and two water bottles in the other. “Mind if I join you?” you said nothing, but nodded in response, and he offered you water, and you took it before he sat next to you. You watched out of the corner of your eye as he wrapped the blanket around him, and it was in that moment that you remembered it was November. Unconsciously, you pulled your knees up, wrapping your arms around them, wishing you had grabbed your jacket. “Here,” he said suddenly, opening up one side of his blanket cocoon. “We can share.”

You peered at him hesitantly, before opting in because even your pride was willing to leave for warmth. He wrapped the blanket around you both, and you moved closer to him in an attempt to get the blanket around the both of you completely. Aside from your shoes peeking out, the both of you were completely submerged, he must have found the biggest blanket in the apartment. You peered up at him and watched as he stared at the street before you, not thinking twice of it, you rested your head on his shoulder. “Jin, I’m sorry for freaking out earlier.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, looking down at you. “You were uncomfortable, I should have been more aware.”

“I wasn’t that uncomfortable,” you muttered, and he chuckled.

“y/n you were actually shaking at one point,” you laughed at that, he was right.

“Okay, fine, but I was only uncomfortable with the circumstances, not the idea behind them,” you paled when you realized what you said, but when Jin wrapped his arm around you, pulling you even closer to him, you relaxed a little. 

“Oh so what you’re saying is that I didn’t need to take two shots?”

“Hmmm, maybe not,” you mused, and he laughed. “And neither did I.”

“So why did you?” he asked, the smile dropping from your face as you thought about how you were gonna explain this.

“Jin, I-” you said, your heart rate picking up with each passing moment; it was now or never. “I really like you, I have feelings for you so strong I feel like going crazy sometimes. I’m sure you already knew because Alexa has a big mouth, and I’m the least subtle person on the planet, but that’s why I took the shots.”

“You took the shots instead of kissing me because you like me?”

“Ah no,” you grumbled, getting stressed that he wasn’t getting it. “I took the shots because I didn’t want my first kiss to be in the dark, especially with you.”

“Ahhh, I see what you mean,” he said, a faint smile on his face. He looked down at you, and you felt all the air leave your body as you registered the look in his eyes. It was the exact same as yours had been earlier when you saw him. He had never looked at you like that, at least to your memory. He had, you had just never noticed. 

“I just, I just want to be able to see you,” you said quietly, unable to move, stuck in the way he looked at you. “I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I don’t want to mess up.”

Jin grinned, “You can’t mess up, y/n.” he assured you, and you blushed. 

“I don’t know, I’m pretty clumsy sometimes,” you pondered, you honestly had no idea how to do it, so chances were that you would mess it up. Jin was older than you, a year or so, and you’ve seen him with a number of girls, so you were pretty positive you were the inexperienced one in this pair. 

“It’s pretty simple,” he mused, reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I could teach you.” Your heart skipped a beat at his sultry tone, he was absolutely gonna be the death of you. “I’m sure you’d be a quick learner.”

“I’m sure you’d be a good teacher,” you said, and his ears turned a nice shade of pink. You mentally grinned at your ability to fluster him, even in this frenzied state. 

“So what do you say?” he asked, running his hand down your arm to grab your hand again. Goosebumps appeared in succession, as you realized where this was going. “Is it bright enough out here for you?”

“It’s perfect,” you whispered, grinning as he smiled at you. “You’re perfect, you know that right?”

“Says you,” he cooed, “You know how long I’ve waited for a moment like this? I like you so much, y/n, it actually drives me crazy how amazing and perfect you are.” You blushed deeply at that, unsure of how in the world you had ended up here, but hearing him say the things you had always wanted him to say made your heart race so fast you were sure you were dreaming. 

“So what’s the first step?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm as you wrapped your arm around his neck. He moved, so you were facing each other now, the blanket falling slightly. You unconsciously tangled his hair in your fingers. He closed his eyes, obviously enjoying whatever you were doing.

“Well you’re doing great so far,” he sighed, his tone breathless. “I was right, quick learner for sure.” you smirked, your fears long forgotten as you felt him lean into your touch. You had no idea that would have such an affect on him, you’d definitely remember that for later.

“What next?” you asked, and he opened his eyes. They were darker than before, and you were sure you were hallucinating. He wrapped both his arms around you, pulling you even closer. His face was inches from yours, if leaned forward you would bump noses. 

“Well I’ll pull you close, close enough to kiss you of course,” he whispered, and you chuckled. “Then I’ll probably compliment you some more, telling you how much I like being around you, how beautiful you are, how long I’ve wanted to do this.” he paused, smiling at you. “Then I’ll lean in closer, and ask if you’re sure you want this.”

“And I’ll say that I do,” you said, “That I’ve wanted this for a long time, I was just too scared to say anything, how dumb was that, huh?”

You both chuckled at that, agreeing that you both had been so scared for no reason. “That’s good to hear,” he grinned, playing with the hem of your shirt. “Cause that’d be really awkward if you didn’t feel the same.”

“Oh I feel the same,” you said quickly. “Don’t even worry about that.”

He smiled at you for the millionth time that night, and even though you should have been used to it by now, you still felt like you were floating. “Well now I’m gonna lean forward, probably a little too slowly just to tease you, and maybe I’ll pause just in front of you,” he whispered, pausing with almost no room between your lips.

“And then?” you asked quietly, afraid to break the moment. “What should I do?”

“Whatever you feel like.”

You leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of you. His lips were as soft as you had imagined they would have been. You weren’t sure what to do once you two had touched, but you felt him move away before kissing you again, this time with more pressure. You hesitantly did the same, and you felt his grip on your tighten, so you must have been doing something right. He pulled away again, and you opened your eyes to see him grinning at you. He leaned forward so his mouth was by your ear.

“You're doing great,” he said, chills running down your spine. “You’re a natural.”

He kissed your cheek, before reconnecting your lips, you moved slowly, testing the waters on what you thought might work, gauging the success rate by how Jin reacted. You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you pulled away again, but you could see that his lips were red, and you imagined yours looked the same. 

“You’re amazing,” you said, heart seizing at the way he looked at you, and it was in that moment that you knew things were going to be okay. “Definitely the best teacher I’ve ever had. I might need a few more lessons though.”

He smirked, “Oh don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time for more lessons. It’ll cost you though,”

“What’s the price?” you mused, fingers dancing around his face, tracing the outline of his jaw, his ear, his collarbone. 

“A date, with me, this weekend, at a restaurant of your choosing.”

You hummed, pretending to contemplate the idea, “I guess I can do that, but I charge too, ya know.”

“Oh yeah?” he taunted, curious what you were gonna say. “For what?”

You wanted to do something equally as romantic and sensual as him, but in that moment you were overcome with an urge to just hold onto him, to hug him. So you tightly wrapped yourself around him, stuffing your head into the crook of his neck. He returned your embrace immediately, slightly caught off guard by your change in tone, but welcomed it nevertheless. He ran his hands up and down you back as you took a deep breath. You turned your head towards him, tentatively placing a kiss on his neck. You felt him shiver slightly, the goosebumps rising on his skin. “For that,” you whispered, kissing his neck once more, before returning to your original embrace. 

He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but somehow you had managed to be adorable and extremely hot within the span of seconds, and it was in that moment he realized you would be the death of him. He held you for a while, enjoying your embrace, enjoying the way you fiddle with the hair on the nape of his neck every so often, enjoying the way he was finally holding you the way he had always wanted to.

You couldn’t have asked for anything better than this, you were so happy, you couldn’t believe your luck. Time passed, and with each minute, intoxicated by his scent, you felt yourself growing tired, wordlessly, you dozed off, the alcohol tiredness finally taking effect, and it wasn’t until Alexa knocked on the door, did Jin realize what had happened, and how much time had passed.

She quietly opened the door, “Glad to see my efforts didn’t go to waste,” Jin grinned at her, pulling the blanket over your sleeping form.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “Sorry I was so blind before, I owe you for what you did. If you hadn’t messaged me last week, I don’t think this ever would have happened.”

“No kidding, you both are scaredy cats, and we both know y/n never would have said anything, she liked you too much to risk it,” she said, and they chuckled. “Are you okay out here? It’s cold out here, things have calmed down inside, we’re watching a movie if you want to come back inside.”

“I’ll be in in a second,” he said. “Thank you again, Alexa, I owe you one.”

“Just put in a good word for me next time you and Jimin hang out, yeah?” she said shyly and Jin gasped. 

“Really?” he asked, an excited look on his face.

“I don’t know, maybe, he’s cool, he’s handsome, those aren’t bad things.” she explained, a blush on her face, Jin wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she sighed. “Okay I’m going, don’t make me regret asking for that. See you in a bit.”

She shut the sliding door, and Jin looked down at you again, still in awe of what had happened. You shifted in your sleep, in an attempt to get more comfortable, you snuggled closer, if that was even possible. “So Jimin and Alexa, huh?” you whispered, causing Jin to jump at the sound of your voice.

“You’re awake?” he asked.

“Kinda,” you mused, “I heard the door open. I’m glad she said something, cause you’re both right, I never would have said anything, liked you too much.”

He smiled, a deep blush on his face. He wondered how long it would take for your words to have a lesser effect, he secretly hoped it would never come. “Do you want to go watch the movie? Or do you want to sleep?”

You contemplated your choices, “Let’s go say goodbye, and you can come over?” you lifted your head to gauge his expression. “Unless you don’t want to, that’s fine too.”

“No, no, no,” he assured you. “I’d love to come over.”

You smiled, and kissed him again before standing up. Jin followed you inside, grabbing your hand the first chance he got. Your friends all watched as you came in, and Namjoon was the first to congratulate you both.

“It’s about time you did something, Jin!” Yoongi nagged, and Jin let out a shout of protest. You laughed, making eye contact with Alexa. Thank you you mouthed to her, and she smiled, so genuine and full of love. You’re welcome she mouthed back, a knowing look on her face. Next to her, Jimin sat, and you wiggled your eyebrows at her as Jin grabbed your jackets. She blushed, and you grew excited at the new prospect of their relationship. Jimin grabbed her attention as he asked her a question, and you watched as he rested a hand on her thigh, you had never seen her so bubbly and excited, you made a mental note to ask her about it later. Jin returned to your side, handing you your coat. You bid farewell to everyone, and made your way to your car. The drive home was filled with compliments, loud singing to the radio, and plenty of kisses from Jin as you drove. 

By the time you got to your apartment, you felt tired again, and you could tell Jin was finally falling victim to sleep as well. You grabbed some of his old sweats that you had stolen from your dresser, and handed them to him. You shamelessly watched as he undressed, slipping on the sweatpants, but opting out of the sweatshirt. This wasn’t the first time you had seen him shirtless, but it was certainly the first time you hadn’t looked away when he looked at you. Wordlessly, you smiled at him and stripped yourself of your shirt and bottoms. He felt his stare and you turned to take off your bra and put on an old t-shirt. You pulled on some shorts, and turned back to face him, he was laying on your bed, arms behind his head, his muscles on full display. You blushed at the sight, climbing into bed next to him, immediately leaning into his touch as he pulled you onto his chest. You felt it rise and fall with each breath he took, it was incredibly calming. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said, tilting your jaw up to kiss you. Your legs went weak at the feeling, and you laid your hand on his chest. “So so beautiful, I’m so lucky.”

“Says you, world wide handsome,” you joked, and he laughed. Things were gonna be just fine, you could feel it.

[iffeelscouldkill]

TSCOSI Week Day 3: Sana / Leadership

A/N: ssshhhhhhh yes I know it’s late but ssssshhhhh let’s just pretend I’m posting this 5/6 days ago

Here, finally, is my fic for Day 3 of TSCOSI Week, on the theme of Sana / Leadership! This takes place in an ambiguous point in Late Season 2. It does not have any bearing on the episode that was released today, which I haven’t even listened to yet, because I was busy trying to finish off this fic 😂😭 Energy and motivation have not been on my side lately. But here we are!

I had two ideas I could have gone with for this day’s prompt, and of course I chose the one I knew would lead to a longer fic, but it was worth it. This type of TSCOSI fic is my favourite to write - pure Rumor/Iris crew fluff and shenanigans. So enjoy!

---

The first clue Sana had that something was amiss was when she woke up.

Rather than waking to the vibration of her comm against her ear (yes, her comm had an alarm function and yes, she slept with it in in case of emergencies. She would not be taking questions at this time), she came to naturally, which she hadn’t done in months. Sana smiled to herself, stretching – and then froze.

She never woke up naturally, and the few times that she did wake during the night she didn’t feel this pleasantly well-rested. What time was it?

“Computer?” Sana spoke aloud to ELLA. “Current on-ship time?”

“The current on-ship time – is – nine – forty-three AM,” ELLA’s voice intoned. Sana sat bolt upright in her bed.

That wasn’t right. There was no way she’d slept through her alarm, and she had it set to recur at the same time every morning. Which meant…

“Sana Tripathi to all crew,” Sana said, opening up a comm line to all of her crewmates’ devices. “Hey, guys. Would someone mind telling me why my alarm didn’t go off this morning?”

“It didn’t go off because I deprogrammed it when I poured you into bed last night at some ungodly hour,” came the reply in Arkady’s deadpan tones, and Sana cringed slightly, regretting opening up a line to the whole crew. “Also, I’ve said this before, but sleeping with your comm in your ear? Pretty unhealthy, and that’s coming from me.”

“Thank you for that feedback, Arkady,” said Sana, with all the dry sarcasm she could muster.

“Prolonged comm usage, even when the comm is idle, has also been known to lead to hearing damage in a small percentage of cases,” put in RJ, and Sana’s eyebrows rose. “Something to do with a low level of uh, high-frequency feedback? So as a best practice, you should really take it out before bed.”

“RJ, are you lecturing me right now?” Sana asked, halfway between deeply amused and indignant.

“Uhhhh- n-no Ma’am! I mean, uh- no, Captain.”

“They’re right, you know,” Violet put in next. “I mean, it really is a small percentage of cases, but as your medic I have to advise you not to leave your comm device in for prolonged periods. Also, that sounds – uncomfortable? For sleeping?”

Sana sighed, resigning herself to being ganged up on by her entire crew. “Duly noted, Violet. Getting back to the subject at hand-”

“Wow, human ears are so fragile!” This, of course, was Krejjh. “They can really be damaged by comm feedback?”

“For a prolonged enough period-” RJ began to explain.

“We don’t all have your ‘superior alien senses’, dude,” put in Brian, laughing. Sana put a hand to her head.

“Guys-”

“I deprogrammed your alarm because you need a break, Captain,” Arkady cut in, almost gently. “Don’t think we didn’t notice that you’ve been pulling extra shifts so that the rest of us could take breaks, while not taking any yourself.”

“The human body is at its best when given time to rest and recover,” Violet added, also gently. “And you’re human too, Captain.”

Sana could feel her face flaming, but she was also extremely touched by the concern the crew were showing her – even though they’d apparently ganged up on her in the process.

“All right, I can admit that the lie-in was appreciated,” she said. “Thank you for the thought, everyone. Krejjh, I’m coming to relieve you in-”

“Oh, no need, Cap’n,” Krejjh interrupted cheerfully. “Crewman Park is taking your shift! He’s relieving me in ten minutes, and then Crewman Jeeter and I are going to play cards.”

“That’s really not necessary,” Sana said, beginning to feel slightly alarmed. “Park, I’m coming up to the cockpit in-”

“Sorry, Captain, but I think you’ve been outnumbered,” Park said, as mildly as ever. “Also, Krejjh promised me fruit jerky in exchange for taking the next shift, and I’m not about to give that up.”

Sana stared at the wall, running a hand over her face. “Park, you hate fruit jerky.”

“This is special fruit jerky,” Park replied, deadly serious. “The really good kind. Enjoy your time off.”

“There must be something I can do,” said Sana, realising she sounded slightly desperate.

“Uh, you can join me and Krejjh for a game of cards in ten minutes?” Brian suggested.

“Or you can relax, Captain,” Violet said, still in that gently amused tone. “It’s for one day. We promise you’ll be back to keeping us all in line tomorrow.”

The whole day?! Sana exclaimed internally. And okay, maybe the way that she balked at the idea of a day of enforced rest said something about the habits she’d fallen into.

She could at least give it a try. The crew had obviously put some thought into this – and it didn’t seem like they were backing down any time soon.

“Maybe I could use a breather,” she admitted aloud, and pretended not to hear someone’s sigh of relief over the comms. “But if any of you need anything…”

“We’ll let you know, Captain,” Arkady promised her, sounding not in the slightest bit sincere. Sana sighed.

“Okay. Sana Tripathi out.”

Or maybe by the afternoon her crewmates would let up, and she could go back to doing something useful.

---

Sana spent the next ten minutes or so trying and failing to relax with an audiobook, one of a handful she’d downloaded off the public net for sleepless nights. It just felt wrong to be lying on her bed doing nothing during the day. Normally she cherished her moments of downtime when she could get them (and okay, they’d been few and far between lately), but this felt… too much. Surely she should be somewhere else, maybe off discussing their next destination with Krejjh after they managed to resupply on Hathor, going over the new truck with Arkady to check it was outfitted to their needs, or maybe putting her head together with Park and RJ to get their analysis of the latest information about Regime movements.

And sure, they didn’t have any immediate jobs for Boss Violet that needed doing, and it was far enough to Hathor that planning their next destination could probably wait a day or two. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t needed. Even when Sana was off-shift, she tended to linger around the crew areas, just keeping an eye out; watching for signs of exhaustion among her crewmates, making sure they weren’t hiding injuries or strain. Injecting a cheery comment here or a calming word there, to keep people’s spirits up.

She was the Captain, and it was her job to look out for her crew. It had been a tough past few weeks, and Sana didn’t want to take this current peace for granted.

Sighing, Sana shut off the audiobook recording and went to the mess hall. Krejjh and Brian were sat at one of the tables, playing a rousing game of something that Krejjh dubbed ‘Reverse Snap’, where the object was to call out when you turned over two cards that were ‘spiritual opposites’. Unsurprisingly, Krejjh had been the one to devise the system of ‘spiritual opposites’, and was therefore given the power to decide whether a play was valid or not, a power that they abused liberally. Brian never seemed to mind; Sana suspected the enjoyment for him was in watching his fiancé get caught up in the game, and laughing at their ridiculous justifications for why they should be allowed to win each round.

Sana declined to get involved in the action herself, but it was a nice change of pace to just sit and spend time with two of her crewmates, without any other purpose beyond having fun. It was true that she didn’t get to do this often enough.

Unfortunately, the game came to a halt after Krejjh lost three consecutive rounds and poutingly declared that Brian must be cheating, even though he’d been faithfully citing their own rules each time he won a hand. “This is boring. Let’s go snuggle in our room and listen to RIFT!” they said.

Brian just smiled and gathered up the cards. “Okay,” he agreed easily. “How’re you feeling, Captain? More relaxed?”

Sana smiled wryly. “I do take downtime, you know. Despite what everyone seems to think.”

“Captain, you sleep with your comm in your ear,” Brian pointed out, mild and easy-going, but unerringly right, as always.

“I wish everyone would stop fixating on that,” Sana grumbled. Brian laughed.

“Look, this whole ‘enforced day off’ thing wasn’t my idea, but I am on board with the concept,” he said. Sana thought about asking him whose idea it had been, but she supposed it didn’t matter. “You deserve to have a break from looking after us all the time, you know? It was the least we could give you.”

Sana sat back in her chair, a little taken aback. She hadn’t been thinking about it in that way – that this was a joint effort by the crew to do something nice for her, to gift her with a day to herself. She’d been so caught up in chafing at the enforced idleness. But they’d all obviously pitched in on this, making sure that her shifts were covered and that everything was taken care of.

“Honestly, being Captain of this crew? It’s no hardship,” she told Brian – and Krejjh, who was hovering by the table – honestly. “But… thank you. It’s an incredibly sweet thought, and I do appreciate it.”

Brian smiled again. “It’s really nothing,” he told her. “See you later, Captain.”

Krejjh gave her a parting salute. “Enjoy your morning, Cap’n Tripathi!” they chirped, and then bounded after Brian.

Which left Sana with some food for thought, but still nothing to do. The mess, for now, was deserted, everyone evidently occupied with their own work or rest. Should she go back to her room, or try to find something to do around the ship? She wondered whether fixing things up and doing handiwork around the ship would be classed as ‘working’ in the eyes of the crew. Sadly, it probably would.

Resigned to giving her audiobook another try, Sana got up from the table and made her way along the corridor to her room. Passing by the medbay, she noticed that the light by the door was green, which meant that it was open, and she could movement from inside. She knocked, wondering if Violet would want a hand – or some company.

“Come in,” Violet called, and Sana pressed the button to open the door and stepped inside. Violet was inside, surrounded by rows and groups of orderly supplies - evidently doing that full inventory she’d been planning. She didn’t look surprised to see Sana.

“Can I… help with anything?” Sana asked. Violet gave her a wry smile.

“I don’t have a dictionary on me, but I’m pretty sure this wouldn’t come under the definition of “relaxation”,” she teased. Sana put her hands up.

“All right, granted. I can just keep you company for a while, then? Unless you prefer to work in silence.”

“Company is welcomed, Captain,” Violet told her. “And actually, there is something I could use a hand with.”

Sana was about to ask what it was, when she followed Violet’s gaze up to a high shelf full of supplies that she’d evidently been unable to clear. “Oh! Sure, I can help with that,” she said, trying not to seem too outwardly pleased at the opportunity to do something. Judging by Violet’s expression, she probably hadn’t succeeded. “Do you want them all down?”

“Yes, please, Captain.”

Sana got to work lifting boxes of what appeared to be empty syringes and some basic first aid supplies – bandages, gauze, cooling packs – down off the shelf and handing them to Violet, who made a noise of satisfaction when she saw what they contained. “So, how’s the overall situation with our med supplies?” Sana asked her. “Anything we need to restock?”

Violet gave her a sidelong glance, and Sana huffed. “If you want me to just turn off the part of my brain that’s concerned about the well-being of this ship, I’ve got some bad news for you.”

Violet laughed a little. “Okay, fair. We’re pretty well-off for med supplies, though I’d like it if we could get some more heptocaldrin – for injuries, not as a… stealth weapon.”

“Can’t it be both?” Sana joked. “I’ll put some feelers out with contacts who have connections with medical suppliers, see if we can get hold of some. – After today,” she added hastily at Violet’s raised eyebrow.

“Thank you,” Violet said, smiling serenely. “Are you planning to stay and watch me sort these?”

“Well, since I have so much leisure time at my disposal today,” Sana said lightly. “Can I sit here?” She gestured to the recliner that sat in the corner, the spiritual successor to the much-loved beanbag chair.

For the first few minutes, neither of them said anything much. It was quite soothing watching Violet work, although Sana itched to actually get involved and help her. She couldn’t help taking note of the condition of the medical supplies as Violet sorted them and made notes on her checklist, thinking about where they could find better-quality suppliers.

“Can I ask you something, Captain?” Violet said. Sana felt almost like she’d been caught out, though Violet’s tone was casual, almost idle; she hadn’t looked up from her work, still methodically sorting supplies.

“Of course,” Sana said.

“You’re always making sure that the six of us clock off and get enough rest. Why don’t you ever do the same for yourself?”

In hindsight, Sana should have known this question was coming. Before today, she likely would have given it a chipper, joking answer (like she did when Violet asked her, a few weeks after their flight from New Jupiter, how long she had been on shift), but now she made herself give the question some proper consideration.

“It’s different when you’re the one in charge,” she said after a little while. “If something goes wrong, if there’s an eventuality that I’ve overlooked, that’s on me. And given our current – status – the consequences of that could be much worse than me going without a break, or a couple hours of sleep.”

Violet gave her a sad smile. “But those are important things. I know it’s easy for me to say, when I don’t have to feel the weight of that responsibility – I couldn’t do what you do. But you’re at your best when you’re well-rested, too. What happens if you overlook something because you’re underslept and you haven’t had a break in days?”

“Well, that’s what I keep you all well-rested for,” Sana said lightly.

“Captain,” Violet said reprovingly.

“Violet,” Sana replied in the same tone. Jokingly, she said, “Are you going to start singing at me to take a break next?”

Violet blinked confusedly at her before the light of understanding dawned in her eyes. “Was that a ‘Hamilton’ reference?”

“You spend enough time with Arkady, you find yourself making opera and musical theatre references without even knowing it,” Sana replied. “You’ll need to watch out for that.”

“I’ll be on my guard,” Violet said. And then, more seriously, “But if it turned out to be a reliable method, then yes, I would sing at you.”

Sana couldn’t help laughing. “Well, luckily, there’s no need. Here I am, taking a break.”

“Uh huh,” was all Violet said, giving her an appropriately sceptical look.

“I am!”

“And if I asked you for your opinion on the overall quality of our med supplies, I’m sure you wouldn’t have any thoughts at all,” Violet said pointedly.

“Well, you can ask,” Sana replied. “But I’d have to tell you that the Captain will get back to you about that tomorrow, when she’s back on the clock.”

“Oh, good to know.”

 ---

Spending time with Violet in the medbay took up another hour, but before long Sana found herself back in her room and at a loose end again. And okay, maybe she was going about this wrong; she shouldn’t just be looking for ways to kill time all day. Plus, spending time with the crew was nice, but they were all busy with their own jobs, so that didn’t really equate to relaxation. There had to be something she could do by herself – other than listening to that audiobook.

On the Rumor, Sana had spent a lot of her downtime in her room working on sewing or embroidery projects. But lately, she hadn’t really had a project that she could – wait.

Sana sat up straighter on her bed, thinking. When they’d been putting together the ‘shopping list’ of supplies for Hypatia, she’d joked about adding a hammock to the list. She hadn’t seriously gone looking for one, but when she’d been checking out some of the hardware stores near where they made landing, looking for parts for the engine and the ship’s various systems, she’d discovered that they also sold swathes of fabric, rope, and – crucially – wooden poles.

Sana got up and went to the little closet built into the wall of her room. At the back, right where she’d left it, was a bundle of poles and rope with brightly-coloured fabric wrapped around it. Sana pulled out the bundle, breaking into a grin. She hadn’t really expected to find enough time to work on this when she’d bought the materials, though she’d vaguely intended to do a bit here and there. But now was the perfect time to try and put it together.

Sana unrolled the bundle on her floor and got to work.

---

“Incoming call from… Ignatius Campbell. Incoming call from… Ignatius Campbell. Incoming…”

Sana was in the middle of sewing the wooden poles into either end of her hammock fabric when the call came through to her comm link. “Computer, accept call. Campbell, hi!”

“Captain Tripathi!” Campbell’s voice boomed cheerily. “Is this a bad time?”

“It’s a pretty good time, actually,” Sana said as she worked the needle in and out of the fabric. “I’ve got the day off today, so I’m just doing some sewing in my room.”

There was a fractional pause on Campbell’s end. “The day off, huh?” he said. “How’s that going? Not too bored, I hope?”

Sana smiled to herself as she tied a knot in the sewing thread to secure it and then bit off the thread. She had scissors, but they were buried somewhere in the heap of fabric and she couldn’t be bothered to root around for them. “It was a bit slow to start off with, but I’m getting into it now.”

“Gotta say, I can’t believe they actually managed to persuade you to take a whole day out of your schedule to relax,” Campbell said. “The last time I called, you hadn’t slept in – was it thirty-six hours?”

“Thirty-two,” Sana said quietly, to herself.

“-And you were on your sixth cup of coffee – do you even remember that call?”

Sana sighed, part amusement and part resignation. “Yes, I do remember. Sorry for-”

“No, no, it’s fine, I was just – well, it was a bit worrying,” Campbell said. “Anyway, glad you’re taking a break. You sound… better.”

Who knew that everyone had apparently been so concerned for her wellbeing? Sana thought. Then her hand stilled in the middle of threading her needle. Maybe she should have realised how concerning it was to everyone. But she hadn’t thought – well, she guessed she hadn’t noticed that everyone was looking out for her just as much as she’d been trying to look out for them.

She cleared her throat a little. “Well, what can I do for you, Campbell?”

“Oh, nothing in particular,” Campbell replied. “Just wanted to call to catch up, really. Trade some gossip, funny stories about the crew… It’s been a while since you were able to stop by.”

Sana smiled ruefully, and then a thought occurred to her. “So, you just so happened to call to catch up on the one day when I don’t have anything going on? That’s good timing.”

“Uh—” Campbell’s cornered response was immediately telling. “I might’ve heard that – today would be a good time to call—”

Sana huffed in amusement again, rolling the fabric over the pole at the other end of her hammock and lining up the ends of the material. “Be honest, Campbell. Did the crew ask you to check up on me?”

“I called the ship’s comms last night, and Arkady picked up,” Campbell admitted. “I really was calling just to see how you all were, and well, she filled me in on how things had been lately. How they were all planning to cover your shifts and chores today to give you a break. She said that you might be at a loose end, so I offered to call you back around this time. I would’ve called earlier, but Eloise asked me to watch the boys in the morning.”

“How are they?” Sana asked, smiling.

“Oh, as full of energy as ever, I can barely keep up with them,” Campbell said, a smile in his own voice. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped-”

“No, it’s – fine, Campbell. Really,” Sana assured him. “I’m touched at how everyone’s been…” She searched for the right phrasing. “I’m touched at how much thought went into this. It really means a lot.”

“What you do means a lot,” Campbell responded, sincere. “To the whole crew. And to… me.”

Sana’s face warmed, and she realised she’d been sitting there, holding the fabric together without doing anything for the past several minutes. She picked up her needle and began on the same neat row of stitches that she’d made at the opposite end. “Thank you, Campbell.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Campbell replied gruffly, and then cleared his throat. “So – any good stories to share?”

“I’ll make you a trade,” Sana offered. “One story about the crew, for every story about your nephews.”

“Oof. You drive a hard bargain, Captain Tripathi, but I accept.”

Sana laughed. “Okay. Well. You might remember how Arkady has an unfortunate habit of leaving some of her weapons holsters in odd places around the ship…”

---

A few hours later, the new hammock – strung up in a corner of the mess where Sana had mounted some sturdy hooks on two adjacent walls – was almost ready. All it needed was a test subject; Sana could of course get in and test it herself, but it would be ideal if she could observe someone else getting into the hammock, so that she could judge how things looked from the outside.

Oddly, the mess hall was deserted, and had been for the past while, which was strange; she would have expected to find at least one or two members of the crew spending time in here. Just then, she spotted RJ, who had entered on the far side of the room and frozen.

“RJ!” she said happily. “You’re the perfect person to test out my new hammock.”

“Uh-” RJ looked around, as if hoping to be rescued by someone, before reluctantly walking over. “You’ve been making a… hammock?”

Sana gestured towards her creation with a flourish. “What do you think?”

RJ’s eyes narrowed as they inspected her handiwork, pulling lightly on the ropes that suspended the hammock. “Is it structurally sound?” they asked doubtfully.

“Why don’t you get in and test it for yourself?” Sana invited them. “Don’t worry about the hooks – they’re the same kind that you find on industrial pulleys. They’ll hold.”

RJ’s eyes flicked towards the doorway. “I’m not really sure if I should be-”

“Oh c’mon, you can take three minutes out of your shift, can’t you?” Sana cajoled them. “Just blame it on me waylaying you.”

RJ laughed a little. “Well – I guess if it’ll only take a minute…” Gingerly, they hoisted themself up onto the hammock, legs dangling over the side, before swivelling round and reclining more fully in the hammock. “Wow, this is actually – really comfortable.”

“Isn’t it? Hammocks are the best,” Sana enthused. “Is the amount of rocking okay?”

“Yeah, it seems fine. It’s not making me seasick, at least,” RJ joked. “You’ve done a pretty good job with the placement of-”

“RJ, there you are,” Park’s voice came from the other side of the mess. “Did you- oh, hi, Captain.”

“Hey, Park,” Sana said easily as Park approached, eyeing the hammock with curiosity. In the hammock, RJ sat back up, a guilty expression on their face. “RJ was being good enough to help me test out this hammock I’ve been making.”

“So I can see,” Park said, neutrally. “Seems like a good use of your time off.”

Sana raised an eyebrow at him, unsure whether the comment was sincere or impeccable sarcasm, but deciding to interpret it as sincere. “Thank you,” she said. “Want to test it out? It would be good to get data from someone taller.”

“I’d love to help, but I really need to borrow RJ,” Park said apologetically. “Sorry, Captain. Maybe after dinner?”

“Of course,” Sana said, as RJ quickly got out of the hammock. She watched Park take their arm and almost steer them away, the two of them conversing in hushed whispers once they were far enough away that they evidently thought she wouldn’t overhear.

Something odd was going on. Sana glanced at the hammock, and then back at the doorway that Park and RJ had just left through. Maybe she should leave it alone – after all, she was off the clock, and she didn’t have to know about everything that was going on on the ship.

Even though Park and RJ were behaving really strangely.

After a few seconds, Sana’s curiosity got the better of her, and she quietly followed.

“Well, I can’t go back through now,” RJ was saying to Park in slightly annoyed tones, as they walked down the corridor. “The Captain will definitely know something’s up. Anyway, I don’t remember seeing a screwdriver in the kitchen.”

A screwdriver? Sana thought, baffled.

“Well, Arkady says there are none in the engine room, and there’s not many other places on the ship left to check,” Park said tiredly. ���So, if you’d like to tell her that you weren’t able to look in the kitchen…”

RJ made a reluctant noise. “Fine, what if we-”

Sana, from her vantage point around the corner, saw the two pause in front of the door that led to the medbay. Park raised his hand and knocked on the door in a specific pattern – one long, and three short knocks. After a second, the same knock came back and the door opened.

“Bad news,” Park said as the two entered the medbay. “Sana was in the mess, so RJ wasn’t able to check the kitchen properly.”

Sana moved around the corner until the open door of the medbay was in view, where a baffling sight (and this was coming from someone who’d seen a lot of weird things in her time) greeted her. The medbay observation table had been dragged into the middle of the room, and an array of screwdrivers, knives, and for some reason, spoons cluttered the tabletop. Arkady, looking irritated, was standing on top of the table with a knife in her hand, trying to pry at the cover that enclosed the medbay’s ceiling lamp. Violet, Brian and Krejjh were grouped around the table, looking up at what Arkady was doing; Violet was holding a penknife and shining a small torch in Arkady’s direction, while Krejjh was holding a small hammer, a steel rule and a lightbulb. Brian just looked entertained.

“I think we should check the engine room again,” RJ said. Arkady rolled her eyes.

“I told you, McCabe, I – Captain!”

Instantly, every crew member in the room (except Park, who simply looked resigned) whipped guiltily around, trying in vain to hide what they were doing. Krejjh dropped the steel rule.

“Cap’n Tripathi!” they said cheerily. “You are just in time for our – uh – table performance art routine! We’ve been practicing specially for you!”

“Really?” Sana asked, amused. “Because it looks to me like you were all trying to change a lightbulb. Badly.”

“As it so happens, Act One of our performance-”

“Krejjh, give it a rest,” Arkady said, as Brian laughed behind his hand. “Captain, we’re fine, honestly. We found the replacement bulb, we just need to figure out how to get this damn cover off.”

“And how long have you spent trying to pry it off, so far?” Sana asked.

“It’s been about an hour and a half,” Violet admitted. Arkady’s shoulders slumped.

“I’m almost there, but I think I need a different screwdriver to-”

She stopped as Sana walked over to the table, and held out a hand for Arkady to pull her up. Climbing onto the table, with the help of a steadying hand from Park, Sana took a magnet out of her pocket (she had a lot of things in her pockets) and held it near the rim of the ceiling lamp cover. A tiny screw flew out and clung onto the magnet. Sana held the magnet to the other side of the cover, attracting another screw, and then another, and another. Finally, she twisted the cover, and it popped off the ceiling.

“Lightbulb,” she said.

Krejjh handed her up the lightbulb, and Sana switched the working bulb out for the dead one, before easily replacing the cover and pushing the screws back into place. She dusted her hands and looked around at the crew.

“Well, that was fun. What’s Act Two?”

Violet smiled, and RJ looked impressed, while Brian shook his head. “I told you we should have just asked her.”

Sana looked back at Arkady, who was glowering at the knife she’d been holding like it had personally offended her.

“You could have asked me,” she agreed. “But I get that you were trying not to disturb me after you worked so hard to give me some time off. And, honestly, it’s been one of the best days I can remember for a while. So – thank you all. So much. I know that being the Captain doesn’t make me invincible. Or infallible. And as much as I want to look out for all of you, I need to remember to apply the same thought process to myself as well.” She caught Violet’s eye, and winked.

“In hindsight, it probably shouldn’t have taken a day of forced rest for me to see that, but I’m grateful that you were all willing to go to the trouble of arranging it so that I could. Even to the point of changing lightbulbs.” She smiled.

“And while you’ve all been working hard, I’ve rigged up a pretty awesome hammock in the mess hall, so it would frankly be a crime not to hold a movie night after dinner.”

Krejjh whooped, and Brian and RJ immediately struck up a fierce debate about whether they should watch a historical fantasy drama or a sci-fi epic. Park tiredly followed them out of the room, presumably to act as adult supervision.

“I’d better go make sure that they don’t forget about dinner,” Violet said, and went after them.

Arkady climbed down so that she was sitting on the edge of the table, and after making a space in the collection of cutlery and engineering tools, Sana joined her. For a few moments, neither of them said anything.

“I meant what I said just now,” Sana said, eventually. “I had a really good day, and… it meant a lot that everyone would go to the trouble of doing something like that for me. And of thinking it up and arranging it.”

“Violet did a lot of it,” Arkady said, a little too quickly. “And Park, especially with covering your shifts. And the comm thing was Krejjh’s idea.”

“Really?” asked Sana, amused. “And what about intercepting the call from Campbell that came in last night, making sure it didn’t disturb me, and then arranging for him to call back when you knew I might be going a bit stir-crazy?”

Arkady huffed. “He told you.”

“Of course he did,” Sana said. “Look, I’m sure it was a group effort, but… I couldn’t help thinking that the idea had to have come from someone who knew me pretty well. And maybe someone who’s been more worried about me lately than they wanted to admit.”

Arkady looked away, her shoulders raised in a defensive half-shrug. “I know you’re the Captain. I know you’ve got to look out for us, and – it’s not like I can really talk when it comes to putting in too many hours when I work on something. I don’t think there’s anyone in the crew who hasn’t done that at some point. But you’re always there to kick our asses into taking a break, and-”

“And someone needed to do that for me?” Sana finished for her, wryly.

Arkady looked back at her and snorted. “Pretty much. Thirty-two hours, Sana. With six cups of coffee.”

Sana winced. “In hindsight, that was probably the first red flag.”

“The first?”

“Okay, okay,” Sana said, laughing a little and holding up her hands. “You have my word that I will not let things get to that point again. And if they do, you have my full permission to-”

“-Kick your ass?”

“I was going to say, ‘put me in time-out in my own hammock’, but either works.”

“Speaking of which,” said Arkady, giving Sana a significant look. “Do I need to ask which part of the ship lost its emergency harnesses?”

Sana laughed. “This one is made from actual wood and fabric and rope. Turns out, I had a lot of time on my hands this afternoon…”

“And you used it to build another hammock.”

“It was that, or listen to a really dull audiobook,” Sana said. “I call it an investment in future relaxation! And future movie nights. Good for the whole crew.”

One half of Arkady’s mouth ticked up, and she looked almost wistful. “We haven’t had a movie night since we were on the Rumor.”

“I want to reinstate the tradition,” Sana said. “I think we could all use a bit of a breather every now and again. Today reminded me of that. So – thank you, Kady.”

She was purposely laying it on thick, because winding up your best friend with excessive sentiments that you meant every word of really never got old. She was rewarded when Arkady quickly jumped down from the table. “I think we’ve already done the Feelings Corner for this evening, so if you need me, I’ll just be in the kitchen, helping with dinner.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to hear the latest motivational speech I’ve been working on?” Sana teased her. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it today. It’s a good one.”

“You know what, I’ve changed my mind,” Arkady said. “You’re not allowed to have days off any more.”

---

A/N: This idea came about as a bit of an inversion of the ‘leadership’ prompt - what if Sana couldn’t be in charge for the day? What would it look like if the crew decided she needed to take some time off? I was really taken with the concept (apparently I just have a thing for members of the crew gently but insistently taking care of Sana), and then I came up with the idea that something goes wrong that Sana would normally be able to fix, and the crew is desperately trying to keep it from Sana while she’s “off-duty”. This image popped into my head of like, the entire crew trying and failing to change a lightbulb, and it was so absurdly perfect that I had to write it xD

It also wound up being a spiritual continuation of the theme we’ve had so far in Season 2 of “Sana is bad at clocking off” - hopefully nothing in Episode 3 has come along and contradicted that xD (Guess I’ll find out!)

[decretum565]

Dear Madoka Magica,

I didn’t really know how to write this letter, as my feelings towards you are too passionate and complex to simply describe in words. You’ve been such an influence on me in so many different regards, and I guess I’m going to attempt to explain how. I first discovered you a couple years back, when you made a top ten list that popped up in my YouTube recommendations. Naturally, it was THE scene that everyone knows was on there, and I was speechless. My reaction was akin to “D-Did she just—Her head—Did she . . .” And you get the idea. That’s where it began, but it didn’t end there.

So I looked into the show a bit more, and there was something disturbingly fascinating about it. I’ve never cared very much about spoilers, but even so I barely understood all of the plot details. Something about you was so mysterious, and I was a bit nervous to discover more. Eventually, I stopped looking for information, as my interests shifted to other things. But I never actually forgot about you.

Fast forward about two years, and I sit down and think about what anime I should watch. I wasn’t very deep into the rabbit hole at the time, and all of a sudden you crossed my mind. I tried to consider other options but you stuck out to me, Madoka Magica.

And so I watched all twelve episodes. I cried six times.

I’m absolutely serious. I adored you from start to finish. As soon as I was able to, I watched Rebellion, and thoroughly enjoyed it as well (though not as much as I do now). I was obsessed, to put it likely. A year later, I rewatched you, and had an even greater appreciation and the spark rekindled. I tracked down fan-art, fan-fiction, analysis videos and internet posts . . . I loved you.

I loved your narrative. The way that everything pieced together, how you were able to be so complex and dark and yet still so hopeful. The way some scenes were directed and written blew my mind, and every episode felt like three minutes instead of twenty-three. I loved the twists and turns you would take me through, as if I was in an actual Labyrinth. I loved your pacing and symbolism and everything in between. I loved your dialogue, with philosophical conversations that felt believable and analytical and just so incredible.

I loved your characters, so, so much. Madoka and Sayaka were two characters that have many aspects I deeply identify with, and even so I still adore them. I was reminded of younger me with Madoka, how inadequate she felt and awkward she was. Sayaka is still one of my favorite characters in media. She had so many layers to her, with her depression and rambunctiousness, optimism and nihilism, just everything about her was incredible. I loved Kyoko to the same amount as Sayaka. Her introduction scene was fantastic, and she just kept getting more and more complex as time went on, leading to one of the most heartbreaking outcomes with her and Sayaka in episode nine. She had such a personality, and her dynamics with the other characters were a lot of fun to watch. I loved Mami, and her desire for companionship, which added so much background to how she responds to others, how she trusts others until they interfere, and one small mistake can cost her dearly. I loved Homura, how she never gave up, never stopped fighting. How she wasn’t all good or all bad, just traumatized and detached to a scary degree. I loved how you thought of her as strange, scary, mysterious, and then the truth is revealed and everything you thought you knew is recontextualized. And, yes, I loved to hate Kyubey. He’s one of my favorite antagonists for a reason.

I loved the art, the animation, the design and the style. How one moment you could be in a normal anime setting, and then use horrific imagery in the Labyrinth scenes. I loved how they differed from one another, based on themes and strategy and tragedy that you can theorize about infinitely.  I loved your music. Yuki Kajiura’s soundtrack gave such emotion and beauty to the series, and I can’t even list all of the tracks that I adore (Also sorry for misspelling, I tried). Serena Ira, Decretum, Conturbatio, Symposium Magarum, Absolute Configuration, Confessio, Sagitta Luminis, Innevitabilis, Puella in Somnio, Incertus, Encounter, Mada Dame Yo, Credens Justitiam, Venari Strigas, Nuquam Vincar, Surgam Identidem, Salva Terrae Magicae, Pugna Infintia, and so, so many more. And, of course, who can forget Sis Puella Magica! ClariS and Sho Watanabe, I loved Connect, Luminous, and Colorful. And Yuki Kajiura and Kalafina, I loved Magia, Mirai, Hikari Furu, Misterioso, and Kimi no Gin no Niwa. They were all so incredible and I will always love them to bits.

And, finally, I loved your ending. I loved the hope, the bittersweet nature, all of you. How you inspired me to keep going, keep fighting through my own struggles, just to make it to another day. To manage to keep moving forward, no matter the hardships that might come. It was absolutely beautiful.

To say that you have changed my life seems like an understatement. I wouldn’t have the same taste in anime without you, let alone characters and movies and novels. I wouldn’t have played Magia Record or immersed myself in the fandom before it shut down. I wouldn’t have found Yuki Kajiura, who is without a doubt my favorite musical artist and composer ever. I wouldn’t be who I am today without you.

It’s been ten wild years since you first aired, and a lot has changed. Politics, Anime, Literature, Music, just everything keeps going around and around without any end in sight. Some changes have been good, some have been bad, but you’ve survived and been remembered by quite a lot of people. Madoka Magica, you once told all of us that as long as we remember her, the one fighting for us, that we were not alone. That there was a light at the end of the tunnel. And with all of that said, I’ll end with this: Thank You, Madoka Magica. Thank you with all of my heart.

—Decretum

[alyssawritesssfics]

Hounded [9] 9. Unity Day

Pairings: Bellamy x OC // Kane x daughter!OC

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, character death (canon), series spoilers

Summary: It’s Unity Day --and Athena’s birthday-- and the celebrations only bring Athena and Bellamy closer together.

Author’s Note: Hii, here is chapter/episode nine! This one is also heavily Athena/Bellamy, so I again had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it! Please remember to note and reblog! It really helps me see interest and therefore update the story more often. Thank you!

Tag List: @topazy​ @no-damsel​ @lizlil​ (DM or send an ask to be added)

previous chapter // series masterlist

I had waited up late last night, anticipating the inevitable conversation with my parents. Luckily for me, both were too busy on the Ark to bother. Part of me was bitter, considering what today was, but I knew the chaos of Bellamy’s information stirred up a lot up there.

Luckily, today was Unity Day and Clarke and Bellamy had both agreed to pause work on the camp and defences until after the ceremony. This meant I had a chance to sleep in for the first time since I’d be locked in Skybox.

When my eyes finally fluttered open, I noticed Octavia staring at me from across the tent.

“Were you watching me sleep?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. Then, I smiled. “You’re such a weirdo.”

Octavia rolled her eyes, standing from her bed and rushing over to mine. “I found something I thought you’d like.” She leaned over, rummaging through her pack and pulling out a long knife, handing it to me with a smile. “Happy Birthday.”

My eyes widened. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course I did!” Octavia beamed. “You made my birthday in Skybox so special, and we weren’t even free at the time. I know it’s not much, but I figured it would come in handy.”

I felt my eyes swell with tears, though I quickly pushed them back. “Thank you, O. I really appreciate you even remembering.”

We hugged briefly, Octavia pulling away with excitement. “We are going to have so much fun tonight. Monty is cooking up some of his famous moonshine.”

“At least we get to drink it this time.”

“I’ll let you get ready for the day,” Octavia spoke, heading to the entrance of the tent. “Too bad the moonshine isn’t ready yet. I could use it to get through the Unity Day Ceremony.”

I laughed as Octavia headed out of the tent. After all those years of participating in the ceremony with Clarke and Wells, I could also use a drink.

…

I made my way to the center of camp, finding most had gathered around the monitor to watch the early portion of the ceremony. The camera panned to my father for a moment, a sharp pain shooting through my body. Despite lucking out and getting to avoid talking to him, of course I’d still have to see him.

“Missing being up there for this?”

I turned around, Bellamy appearing. “Definitely not.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Kane’s daughter doesn’t like Unity Day?”

“Kane doesn’t like Unity Day.” I whispered, earning a chuckle. “It’s just such an elaborate show, as if we came together peacefully for the good of mankind. The Ark only became the Ark after the thirteenth station was blasted out of the sky.”

“You’re even more pessimistic than usual.”

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the screen. “You’re one to talk.”

Bellamy let out a sigh, walking away to join the others.

Alone. As Always.

…

- Six Years Earlier -

I sat on the couch of our family’s unit, staring at the door. It was nearing midnight, and I had yet to see my parents all day. When I woke up they’d both been gone, my mother being called away for surgery and my father for whatever ‘official business’ Jaha needed him for today.

My birthday cake sat in the fridge still, awaiting an adult to stick some candles on it and light it for me. Part of me felt guilty for being upset about missing out on candles; I was one of the lucky few who could even afford to have a cake made. I had read in a book once that cakes were tradition for every birthday on Earth.

The sound of a keycard swipe yanked me from my thoughts as I quickly jumped over the couch. The hard metal door swung open, revealing my mother. She looked exhausted, yet somehow still so put together.

Her eyes finally landed on me, her tired eyes widening. “Honey, I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright, Mom.” I lied. “I spent the night watching movies after the Unity Day Ceremony.”

She frowned, placing her keycard on the table by the door. “You shouldn’t have to watch movies alone on your birthday.”

“I’m used to it.” My mother winced, her frown only growing. “I haven’t touched the cake yet.” I added, smiling.

My mother finally smiled. “Let’s bust out the candles then!”

“Really?” I asked. “We aren’t supposed to have any flames after ten.”

“Are you going to tell Jaha?” She asked. I shook my head. “Good. Neither am I.”

My mother marched into the kitchen, grabbing the candles from the drawer as I pulled the cake out of the fridge. She placed twelve candles neatly across the cake, lighting them all with a match. Before I could blow out the candles, she placed a soft kiss on my cheek.

“Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.”

My smile filled out my face as I closed my eyes and made my wish. Then, I opened my eyes, blowing out the candles as the clock struck midnight.

…

“My friends, this is a historic Unity Day.” Jaha spoke through the monitor. “Every year, we mark the moment our ancestors of the twelve stations joined to form the Ark, but this is the last time we do so while aboard her. Next year, on the ground.”

Cheers erupted on the Ark, but most remained silent down here.

“Right. After we did all the work.” Miller groaned. “Somebody shut him up.”

“You shut up, Miller. Nobody’s forcing you to watch.” Raven snapped.

“For ninety-seven years, we have eked out an existence, hoping that someday our descendants would return to Earth.” Jaha continued.

“Monty strikes again!” Jasper’s voice rang out through the camp. “Call this batch ‘Unity Juice’. Who’s thirsty?”

Many delinquents rushed over, grabbing makeshift cups while Jasper filled them all. I stayed put, for reasons I didn’t even understand, watching the ceremony instead.

“To our sons and daughters on Earth listening to this message, we will see you soon.” Jaha carried on. “The first Exodus ship will launch in under sixty hours, carrying you the reinforcements that you need, so stay strong. Help is on the way.”

As the words filled my ears, I could feel my heart stop. The first Exodus ship meant the second wouldn’t be far behind. How soon until my father was down here? Despite the constant threat, I was getting used to having freedom down here. I definitely wasn’t ready for him to bark orders at me again. At least my mother would be down here soon. Hopefully before him.

Children carrying flags danced around the screen for a while, a little girl finally stepping into the center of their circle.

“Long ago when the Earth was on fire, through space all alone. Then one day, Mir floated by Shenzhen, and they realized life would be better together.” The girl spoke. “The other stations saw this, and they wanted to be together, too. When all the stations were formed, they called themselves-”

A loud bang sounded through the radio, the video cutting to static. We all stared at the screen, waiting for the video to come back, but it never did.

…

The sun had gone down, work came and went, and now it was time to have some much needed and deserved fun. As I walked through camp I watched everyone drinking, laughing, singing and playing games. I’d never seen ‘unity’ like this on the Ark.

My eyes landed on Bellamy, and I felt a familiar sinking feeling in my stomach. I took a deep breath, marching over until I was standing behind him.

“Hey,” I spoke, causing him to turn around. “I was a jerk earlier. I’m sorry.”

Bellamy eyed me for a moment, before smiling. “Birthday blues, I get it.”

My eyes widened. “How did you-”

“Octavia told me a bit ago.” Bellamy cut me off. “I can’t blame you for hating Unity Day more than most.”

“My birthday was always a little overshadowed.” I sighed. “I can’t complain too much, though. My mother always found a way to make it special, even if it was just before midnight.”

Bellamy smiled. “Your mother sounds great.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool.” I smiled back.

I watched Clarke approach us, a frown on her face. “The comms are still dead.”

“Best Unity Day ever.” Bellamy smirked.

“Now you agree with me.” I joked.

“Do you guys really think now is a good time to have a party?” Clarke asked, looking around. “The Grounder is still out there.”

I shook my head. “Grounders.”

“By now, he's made it home. He's probably putting together a lynch mob.” Bellamy spoke, causing Clarke to shift her feet. “Relax. I got security covered. Why don't you go get a drink? You look like you could use one.”

“I could use more than one.”

“So have more than one,” Bellamy responded. “Clarke, the Exodus ship carrying your mother comes down here in two days. After that, the party's over. Have some fun while you still can. You deserve it.”

Clarke thought for a moment. “Yeah, okay. So do you, by the way. Both of you.”

“I’ll have my fun when the Gounders get here.” Bellamy smirked.

Clarke smiled, laughing slightly. “Alright.”

We both watched her disappear into the crowd, Bellamy spinning the apple in his hand. Finally, he turned to me.

“What about you?” He asked. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

I shrugged. “I’m not even sure I know how to celebrate.”

Bellamy took one final bite of his apple, tossing it to the side. “Come on.” He said, marching away.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my shorter legs struggling to keep up.

“First, we get drinks. Then, I teach you how to celebrate.”

I laughed, causing him to stop and look back at me. “You’re going to teach me how to celebrate?”

Bellamy smirked. “Trust me, we used to have the best parties on Factory Station.”

“Right, I heard about those.” I smiled. “I always wished I could go.”

“Well, now you pretty much get to.”

We reached Jasper, Bellamy asking for drinks. Jasper poured them, eyeing the two of us the entire time.

…

We spent most of the night drinking, talking about our experiences on the Ark and playing different games. Finally, we came across a new group, Clarke among them.

“You’re not gonna get this one.” Clarke taunted Fox.

Fox smirked. “Yes, I am.”

“No, it’s not happening.”

Fox flipped the metal piece, landing it the cup of moonshine.

Everyone around the table cheered as Clarke admitted defeat, drinking from the cup and spitting the metal piece out.

“What do you know?” A boy spoke. “Her highness can actually party. I like it.”

“What are you gonna do when the guards come down here and commandeer Monty’s still?” Clarke asked.

“Build another one.”

“Right.” Clarke laughed, her eyes landing on me. “Athena! Come try.”

I shook my head. “I’m alright, thanks.”

“Come on, Athena.” Bellamy nudged my arm.

I sighed, stepping towards the table. “Alright, what am I supposed to do?”

Clarke explained the rules to me as best as her tipsy self could. I stood across the table from her, aiming my piece of metal towards her cup. I then tossed it, the piece bouncing off the table and landing in her cup.

Clarke stared down at her cup for a moment before looking back up at me with a frown. “I regret asking you to try it.”

“Beginners luck.” I threw my hands up, smiling. 

Clarke and I battled it out for a bit, her getting distracted before we could break the tie. She placed one of the metal pieces on her nose, struggling to balance it.

“Hey, can we talk?” Finn asked, appearing through the crowd and placing his hand on Clarke’s arm.

“Is everything alright?” She asked.

Finn looked around before gesturing for her to follow him.

With Clarke gone I stepped away from the table, realising I had sort of abandoned Bellamy. To my surprise he was still there, the smile on his face bigger than I’d ever seen it before.

“You were totally going to win that game.”

My eyes widened, my cheeks warming up. “You think so?”

He nodded. “I’m impressed, Athena.”

“It’s the birthday spirit, I guess.” I laughed, stumbling slightly.

“Woah,” Bellamy laughed, grabbing my arms. “You alright?”

I nodded. “I’m a little dizzy. Very tired. Too much birthday.”

Bellamy laughed again, helping me regain my balance. “Let’s get you to bed, alright?”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Bellamy led me across the camp, stopping just outside of my tent.

“Octavia, are you in there?”

No response.

Bellamy pushed the flap to the side, stepping inside and helping me navigate my way through. I quickly sat on my cot, staring up at Bellamy.

“Alright, try to get some sleep.” Bellamy’s eyes shifted around the tent. “I’ll bring you some water in a bit. Drink it when you wake up.”

Bellamy turned to leave, but I quickly grabbed his arm. “Bellamy, wait.”

He stopped turning back around to face me. I stood from my bed, the alcohol taking over me and I tossed my arms around him.

“Athena?” He asked.

“Thank you, for everything today.” I spoke. “It was the best birthday ever.”

I felt Bellamy’s arms wrap around me, lingering there for just a few moments before we both pulled away. I stared into his soft brown eyes, and he stared back into mine. For a second, I thought he’d say something more. 

Instead, he smiled. “Goodnight, Athena. Happy Birthday.”

Bellamy turned to exit the tent, pushing the flap aside to reveal Clarke. Her eyes quickly darted to me behind him, before landing back on his face.

“Hey, I needed to talk to you both.”

“Been having fun, Princess?” Bellamy smirked.

Clarke glared. “I’m serious.”

“You always are.”

“Finn’s set up a meeting with the Grounders. I’m leaving to go talk to them.”

I stood up, my head spinning. “Like hell you are.”

“Do you think that impaling people on spears is code for ‘let’s be friends’? Have you lost your damn mind?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Now you two decide to agree on things?”

“Clarke, we have no idea what else these people are capable of. You could be walking into a trap.”

“I think it might be worth a shot.” Clarke shrugged. “I mean, we do have to find a way to live with them.”

“They’ll probably gut you, string you up as a warning.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here.” Clarke said. “I need you guys to follow us, be our backup.”

“Does Finn know about this?” Bellamy asked.

Clarke shook her head. “He doesn’t need to know.”

I eyed Clarke for a few moments, before finally letting out a hearty sigh. “Alright, I’m feeling up for an adventure this evening anyways.”

“Good,” Clarke nodded. “Bring guns.”

While I watched Clarke march away, Bellamy turned to me.

“You should stay here.”

I shook my head. “No way, I’m coming with you.”

“Athena, you were falling over ten minutes ago.”

“And now I’m worried about my friends.” I snapped. “Bellamy, We’ve all been drinking. I’ll sober up on the walk there.”

“Athena-”

“I can’t stay behind while my friends meet with the enemy. I’m coming with you, end of discussion.”

“No, not ‘end of discussion’,” Bellamy glared, folding his arms across his chest. “Who knows what kind of danger we’re gonna be walking into out there. I know you always feel like you have to risk yourself for your friends, but not this time. I can’t worry about you.”

I went to protest, his words finally sinking in and forcing me to stop. He was right. As much as I found arguing with him slightly entertaining, I knew this was one battle I would not be winning.

“Alright,” I sighed, slapping my hands against my thighs as I sat down on my coat. “Promise you’ll be careful?”

Bellamy nodded. “We’ll be back before you know it. Try to get some rest.”

Bellamy left the tent, and I knew I would not be getting any sleep that night.

~

next chapter

[duhragonball]

I think I’m just gonna ramble a bit-- nothing earthshaking-- so here’s a nice, unrelated picture of Cooler to set that up.

I managed to get through Camp Nano in April with about an hour to spare.  I’m still frustrated with my pacing, because I’ve gotten pretty good at finishing the November writing goals with time to spare, but I always end up falling behind on the shorter goals I try to do during the rest of the year.   July is up next, so I’m kind of hoping I can turn this around by then.  

April was difficult all over, so I’m trying to use May to chill the fuck out.    Somehow I find that hard to do.  Like if I’m relaxing, I just get bored or feel unproductive.  That’s one reason I’m writing this post.    I just want to get some thoughts out of my head so I can move on.

For whatever reason, I got sucked into watching YouTube videos about the Nostalgia Critic and his various blunders from 2012 to present.   That sounds pretty sad now that I write it out, because I never followed the guy that closely, so I keep forgetting the hellacious filming schedule discussed in the Change the Channel movement happened years earlier, and the movies themselves were ridiculed as debacles, so it’s not just one bad year, more like nine or ten.   Anyway, watching all of this has given me some stuff to think about.  

I think I first heard about the NC when he started doing that “feud” with the Angry Video Game Nerd.   They did some videos together teasing a crossover, and then they finally went through with it, and it wasn’t terrible, but I had no idea who the other guy was.    It was like Batman teaming up with some indie comics character you never heard of.  Batman doesn’t need the rub.   From the beginning, I got the sense that Nostalgia Critic was the one driving this concept.  Once I heard about Channel Awesome and all these YouTube reviewers crossing over with each other, I was sure of it.  

Looking back on it all, I get the sense that NC has never really had much of a creative agenda.   His early work involved “reviewing” movies by playing long clips of them to recap the plot, and then making some snarky commentary.  Not the worst format, except he kept getting copyright strikes from YouTube, which was why he started his own website to host his videos.  Over the years, it feels like people have begun to recognize the flaw in that format.  Past a point, you’re not really “reviewing” anything.  It’s more like an MST3K style thing, only shorter and less authorized.  

Years ago, I used to read this site called “The Agony Booth”, which sort of did the same thing but in text.   Before YouTube really got going, the only way to lambast a movie or TV episode properly was to meticulously describe it in prose, with the occasional screenshot here and there.   Nostalgia Critic probably represents a point where people realized they could do the same thing in video form, except it starts to cross the line from commentary to something else.   Siskel and Ebert never did a blow-by-blow synopsis of a movie.    Reviewers like the Agony Booth crew did, because they were often discussing old material, and couldn’t show it to you or assume that you had seen it yourself.   A lot of NC’s early stuff was the same deal, where he’d recall something from his childhood and rewatch it to see how it holds up in the present.  So I’m sure a lot of his content covered old, out-of-circulation things.   But he’d do more recent stuff too, and the attitude surrounding YouTube at the time was that you could pretty much do whatever you wanted as long as you kept it under ten minutes. 

Anyway, the Channel Awesome thing looked like an alliance of similar YouTube reviewers, and they kept appearing in each other’s stuff, and then they did the anniversary movies, which were basically “mega crossovers” with all of them appearing together in the same... story, I guess?   At the time, I wrote the whole thing of as a masturbatory power fantasy.   Comic books did crossovers like these all the time, and YouTube seemed to have hundreds of “reviewers” and “personalities” who would put on silly costumes and carry toy weapons like they were about to fight Thanos instead of discussing the ALF cartoon.   The second Channel Awesome movie was about high fantasy tropes, and the third one was a space opera, so that seemed to support my assumption.

From watching all these videos about the movies, though, it looks more like each one was mostly about the Nostalgia Critic talking all his “friends” into another one of his kooky schemes, and they all just sort of go along with it, even though they know him to be a self-centered jerk.   Then the third one ends with NC quantum-leaping out of the story itself and meeting Doug Walker, the guy who writes and plays the character.   They try to sell the audience on the idea that NC had some sort of character development across the three movies, and he decides to sacrifice himself to save the day or something.   This was touted as the finale for the character.   Except it turned out later that Doug Walker wasn’t just playing a self-centered jerk, he really was a self-centered jerk, because he treated the others like crap during the filming and didn’t tell any of them that he was killing off their website’s top draw.

That leads into Demo Reel, the series Doug Walker introduced to fill the void.   From what I’ve seen, it sure looked like he wanted/expected this to be a big hit, and he killed off his biggest meal ticket to make this happen.  But everyone hated it.  I think the pilot episode asks the question “What is Demo Reel?” about three times.   Each time, the answer makes less and less sense.   “Demo Reel” the show is about a studio named “Demo Reel”, run by Donnie DuPre, a self-centered jerk who seems to think there’s big money to be made in plagiarizing movies.   The whole thing is just a flimsy plot device to explain why Doug Walker and two other actors would bother making a no-budget parody/re-telling of three Batman movies smooshed together.   There’s no real-world or fictional reason for three people to do this, it’s just that Doug Walker wanted to make a YouTube video about Batman, but he didn’t want to use the NC format, and he couldn’t just talk over a Batman movie without getting in trouble with Warner Bros.   And I guess just... dressing up like Batman and making jokes needs some sort of context, so that’s where the Demo Reel concept comes in. 

What really annoys me is that Demo Reel has this “mockumentary” thing going on at the same time, so you end up watching their parody movie and the scenes where they make the parody movie, and you get these interview segments where they talk about talking about making the parody movie.   It’s like “The Office” except every character is completely delusional.   They’ve all convinced themselves that this is a really good idea, and I guess the joke is that this is a really stupid job and they must be pretty stupid to work at it.   

No one knows where Demo Reel was originally headed, because it was so reviled by the audience that it got cancelled in five episodes, ending with the revelation that Donnie DuPre was the Nostalgia Critic all along, in some sort of amnesiac state.    Or maybe that was the plan all along, I’m not sure which scenario would be dumber, honestly.   New Coke was a sincere effort to phase out the original Coca-Cola formula, but it was such a failure that everyone thinks it was a brilliant ploy to make consumers appreciate the original.   So who knows?

Anyway, this started the next phase of NC, where he would just remake scenes of whatever movie he’s covering that week, a la Demo Reel.    I don’t know if that’s just a strategy to avoid YouTube copyright strikes, or a stubborn refusal to give up the core concept of Demo Reel, or what.  Then he got around to Pink Floyd’s “The Wall”, and everyone crapped on that, big time.   I haven’t seen the original movie or his “review”, but from what I gathered, Doug

a) basically did a shot-for-shot remake of the movie, only shorter and cheaper.

b) spent the whole video lambasting the movie and the band for making it.

c) offered his parody songs for sale on iTunes, calling them a “love letter to Pink Floyd.”

The big question is: Why did he put so much work into making the thing when he had so little to actually say about it?   There’s no clear opinion expressed about the movie, even though the video is supposed to be a “review”.   He kind of acts like he thought “The Wall” was okay, but the parody lyrics read like the awkward part of a celebrity roast.   Why go to all this trouble unless you really love or absolutely despise “The Wall”? 

Eventually, I started to figure out that this guy really just doesn’t have much to say.   He wants to make videos, make movies, make reviews, but it doesn’t seem like there’s any real opinion or thought that he wants to express.   I was watching him freak out over the credit card scene from “Batman and Robin” and thought “Are you that upset over Batman having a credit card?”   That’s not even in the top twenty dumbest things in that movie.   Sure, it’s worth a snide remark, but not much more than that.  But he’s “doing a character”, and the NC’s whole schtick is to flip out over stuff like that.  

Except it’s not a character, because NC is just Doug Walker wearing a stupid hat, right?  In the movies, NC’s whole persona is that he’s a self-centered jerk who treats his friends like a personal army, and the real Doug Walker was doing the exact same thing off-camera.    Donnie DuPre was another “character”, wearing a different hat, only whoops, he’s the Nostalgia Critic too.   And even if he wasn’t the same guy, his persona was... you guessed it, a self-centered jerk who treats his friends like a personal army.  

There was this whole era on YouTube where it seemed like all these “content creators” were trying to adopt silly gimmicks.    I’m guessing the Angry Video Game Nerd started the trend, because he dressed up in a white button-down shirt with a pocket protector and glasses.   He looked like a stereotypical nerd, you see.  And he’d drink a particular kind of beer, and lose his temper and set Nintendo cartridges on fire, because AVGN was a character.   You watch James Rolfe being himself and he’s a whole other person, always smiling and talking about horror movies and filmmaking, because that’s what the real guy is about.   There’s a separation there.  

I think that was the disconnect.   A lot of these YouTubers saw James Rolfe playing the Nerd and just assumed the secret was to rant and rave about some topic, and he used a Nintendo Zapper to shoot a pickle monster once, so dressing up like a Power Ranger in a trenchcoat didn’t seem like a bridge too far.  Well, no not if you’re trying to make a movie or tell a story.  If all you want to do is talk about Star Wars, you should probably keep it simple.  I think one of the consequences of Nostalgia Critic’s fall from grace is that modern YouTubers are more grounded.   I’ve watched a lot of Jenny Nicholson videos and she’s pretty funny and animated, but she’s not trying to be a charicture of herself.  She’s just this lady sitting on her bed surrounded by porg dolls.  It works a lot better.   

I used to watch the Game Overthinker unironically.   Does anyone remember Moviebob?  Well once upon a time he wasn’t completely bonkers.   The GO series was reasonably well done and uncomplicated... until the dude started appearing on camera and introducing “characters” and storylines that killed whatever point he was trying to make in his video essays.   Then I started watching him ironically, and then I sort of stopped caring about him altogether, and then he pissed away whatever goodwill he had.   I can’t help but feel like he might have been better off just staying behind the camera, or if he had to be on-screen, just sit on a bed with a bunch of Mario dolls or whatever. 

The fad of YouTube personality as wannabe superhero got me thinking of the whole “Mary Sue” and “self-insert” thing.   They’re really poorly defined terms, and they’ve been overused in so many unfair criticisms that I don’t think they make much sense anymore.    When I first got into fanfic, I saw a lot of people simply writing themselves into their stories.   That’s what a self-insert was.    You literally inserted yourself in the story so you could tell Wolverine to his face that his haircut looks stupid, or whatever you wanted to say to him.    I always found this idea infuriating, because I know who Wolverine is, but this other guy telling him off is a complete stranger, and why should I care about him?   Why should Wolverine care? 

One response to that problem would be to present your self-insert like a bigger deal than you are.   You could put yourself in this story and not only talk to Wolverine, but give yourself an elaborate backstory, where you’re a high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and you and Logan go way back, etc., etc.   But that’s a tricky proposition, because if you’re doing it right, you’re just inventing a new character with the same name as you.    Or you can overdo it and make the character too big a deal, at the risk of outshining the other characters.    The Mary Sue concept originated from this, with Star Trek fanzines getting all these story submissions about young, super-talented ensigns who join the crew and immediately win over Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. 

The dirty little secret of character creation is that every character you write is a self-insert or an author surrogate, to some degree.   You can have one that’s meant to be your alter ego, the one who’s based on you and tends to react the way you would in a similar situation.  But you’re writing all the other characters too, and deciding what they think and say and do, so to a certain point they also think a lot like you do, whether you meant for them to or not.  The trick is not to be super-blatant about it, or to revel in the creative freedom to break the fourth wall.   Readers hate that stuff, because they don’t know you well enough to get the joke.   

That’s the advice I’ve always had at the ready in case anyone ever asked me.   But, watching all this stuff about the Nostalgia Critic has made me realize that it applies from the other direction.    It’s very easy to say you’ve created a character, distinct from yourself, only for it to turn out to be more of a reflection of you than you intended.   I can’t tell if Doug Walker is self-aware or not, but it seems like the joke with all his “characters” is that they’re extremely selfish and shallow, and yet he seems to also be selfish and shallow.  So is he aware of this, and he’s trying to exaggerate his flaws for his characters?  Or does he just not realize that he’s telling on himself every time he plays these roles?   Or does he think everyone is selfish and shallow, and that this is just boilerplate information, like blinking and wearing shoes?

I’ll pick on myself, because it’s handier to do so.   I’ve made a bunch of original characters over the years, some that were supporting players, and others who were designed to be big deals.    One of my villains was this bitter misanthrope, and eventually I realized that I was a lot more like him than the outgoing group of buddies that he was trying to oppose.    That hit me and I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with that ever since.  

I wrote a butler in my Hellsing fic, basically an anti-Walter based on Marcus Brody from the Indiana Jones movies.   He was clueless and couldn’t stand the sight of blood, and he was really old, so he told the vampires that if he ever had a heart attack and dropped dead on the job that they shouldn’t pass up the free meal.   Is that me in there?   I tend to think a lot about the world moving on without me, and my own obsolescence.   I just didn’t think I was tapping into that when I wrote the character.   I wouldn’t even bring it up, except I liked writing the guy so much, and that’s the main thing I remember about him.  

A lot of my villains in Luffa are representations of things that I’d like to see punched, because Luffa is an unapologetic Mary Sue Self Insert.    I made her all these other things that I’m not: brave, a woman of color, a good cook, a charismatic lover.   But fuck that, this was all just a ploy to keep people from noticing any resemblance to me and my imaginary punching agenda.   But the villains hold all these shitty attitudes and shitty behaviors, things which I consider to be wrong but sometimes catch myself turning a blind eye to.   Jealousy, greed, fear, resentment, and so on.  

You end up putting a lot of yourself into your writing, there’s really no way to avoid it.  The only real trick is to disguise it a bit so it looks like a story instead of just an essay or an autobiography.   I think that’s where some of the YouTube personalities got it wrong, because they would try to tell a story AND write an essay at the the same time, and that’s tough to pull off.   One of the big things that came out of that whole Channel Awesome document was this problematic scene in “To Boldly Flee” where Linkara has been replaced by a cyborg duplicate, and he converts Lindsey Ellis into a cyborg, and someone hears all these suggestive noises and thinks they’re having rough sex.   It’s awkward anyway you slice it, but it gets even worse because it’s basically the real Linkara and Lindsey Ellis.    Their “characters” are so poorly distinguished from the real people that there’s no other way to describe it.  

Also, one of the most salient points I picked up from watching all these commentary videos is that real people can’t have character arcs.   You can’t just stick Filmdude and Captain Snark and Filmdudette and Movie Sniffer and The Comics Complainer all into the same scene and expect anything important to happen to any of them.   They can’t learn anything or grow in any appreciable way during the story, because they’re real and the story is fictional.  The only “character” to their roles are the bit where they review pop culture stuff, which might as well be non-fictional, so why bother?  Even if I’m wrong, and there really is a more complete fictionalized version of everybody in the Channel Awesome Trilogy, the waters are so muddied that you can’t make sense of it. 

And that’s the real danger of leaning too hard into putting a 1:1 replica of yourself into your stories.  Stephen King can be a bus driver in one of his movies, and Stan Lee can be a bus driver in Avengers 3, but if Stan Lee just started kicking the shit out of Ultron it’d be confusing, especially for people who didn’t know who he was.  And if Joss Whedon started kicking the shit out of Ultron, it’d be even worse, because he’s not as well-known as Stan Lee.   You’re better off making up a guy like Thor or the Hulk who can do it for you, and then putting just enough of yourself into those characters that you won’t get caught.  

At least, that’s how I see it.  

[sadviper]

Woo Do-Hwan: Special Interview with Hanryu Pia – July 2020

@staidwaters​ - Thank you SO MUCH for rescuing my first turd of a translation from whatever overly-literal/not-fluent hell it came from. This here is a master editor!!!

@ibelongtomousse​ - And thank you for indulging my late-night freakouts while I tried to make this happen!

We asked Woo Do-Hwan about his experiences filming "My Country," which was his first historical drama. His character, Seon-ho, is the son of a noble family, who is discriminated against for being illegitimate and who obtained an irreplaceable friend in Yang Se-jong. Audiences were captivated by Seon-ho's low voice and the way Woo Do-Hwan made his gaze express the many tragedies the character had endured. During filming, he co-starred with his idol Jang Hyuk.

In Woo Do-Hwan’s first attempt at a historical drama, he co-starred with an admired senior:

WDH: It’s a great honor to work with him. Ten years ago, I was watching Jan Hyuk-sunbae’s work when I first started to have this dream, that I wanted to become an actor like that. 

Starting with acting a minor role in the sitcom “Come, Come, Absolutely Come”, “My Country” was Woo Do-hwan’s first challenge at a historical drama. As a long-time big fan of Jang Hyuk, finally his wish to be Jang Hyuk’s co-star was fulfilled.

WDH: I especially like the historical dramas that Jang Hyuk-sunbae appears in. I knew that sooner or later I wanted to do a historical drama, and I’m really happy that I stumbled on this amazing work. Being pictured in the same camera angles as Jang Hyuk-sunbae was really exciting; my heart was pounding out of nervousness. I put more effort into preparing for this than I ever had before. I learned that Jang Hyuk-sunbae is a very passionate actor who thinks more deeply on each scene than anyone else, and I received a lot of advice from him in scenes in which we acted together. Before I became an actor, I learned a lot from Jang Hyuk-sunbae, then after I became an actor, he taught me so many things as his co-star.

In this work, Woo Do-Hwan played Seon-ho, a young man who was born into a noble family but who was discriminated against because his mother was a slave. He attempts to become a military official to work towards his dream of a new country where people would not be bound by a caste system, but his father's manipulations tear him and his best friend Hwi apart, and the girl he likes, Hee-jae, blames him for it.

WDH: Seon-ho is the loneliest and saddest character compared to any other. Every time I see him, my heart aches— that was the side of Seon-ho that I wanted to express. Nothing goes his way but even in the midst of his struggles, he still has a special place in his heart for Hwi, Hwi’s sister, Yeon, and Hee-jae. He is a warm-hearted character. 

The showdown between Seon-ho and Hwi, over who would place first in the military exam, was loaded with powerful action.

WDH: I remember that filming took place on an extremely hot day. Since it was the first fight between the two of us, I was very careful with the acting in that scene, to make sure we conveyed the right things to the audience. It is an action scene, but it is crammed full of all sorts of different emotions. While filming that scene, we had some NG (No Good) takes due to accidentally hitting each other and the like, but by that time I had become very good friends with Se-jong, so we were able to laugh, forgive, and have a fun time filming.

Seon-ho struck Hwi in the moment when it looked as if the match had ended, and the exam official that Seon-ho’s father had bribed gave him first place. How did you sympathize with Seon-ho’s feelings of unintentionally betraying his best friend?

WDH: That part when Seon-ho struck Hwi on the head-- I discussed it with the director many times while reading through the script with him. If Seon-ho had been in a decent frame of mind, he wouldn’t have done such a thing. Probably a good explanation is that he was completely exhausted, in a state where he could not see clearly, and because he mistakenly thought that the match was not over, he unfortunately hit Hwi. The usual Seon-ho would absolutely never do such a thing.

AOA’s Seolhyun played Hee-jae, a heroine who is as brave as Seon-ho or Hwi, and who lives her life with strong convictions. This was your first time working with her; what was your impression of her?

WDH:  I think Seolhyun is a really amazing girl. Most of the leading roles in “My Country” are played by men, so I don’t think it was simple at all for her to play a strong woman among them. But she performed the role of Hee-jae with great skill, and was very bright and cheerful on set. I felt that she is an amazing girl with a strong mental resolve, given that she was probably very busy compared to everyone else. She really has her act together; you'd never guess that she was the youngest! I learned a lot from her. 

Must-have items for a rural location

This work took a long time to film and took place in a rural location. In addition to the script, we heard that there were items that he would always bring onsite.

WDH: Filming occurred all over the place for nine months, so I would often sleep at a boarding house. So I brought pillows! I always had a pillow stuffed into one side of my suitcase (laugh). It wasn’t special, it was just a pillow from home that I sleep with every day.

They say that performing in this historical drama became an opportunity to visit many different scenic spots throughout the country that he hadn’t known about before.

WDH: I didn’t know that there are so many beautiful places in Korea. We climbed various mountains and ventured deep into remote mountain interiors in order to include as many splendid views as possible in this work. So there were times when we did things like spend two hours climbing a mountain. I remember hiking up a mountain for a long time when I shot that waterfall scene with Hwi in the first episode.

Seon-ho’s straight, long hair and variety of colorful clothing were one of the highlights.

WDH: Se-jong and Jang Hyuk-sunbae grew their hair long, but my hair was a wig. I grew my bangs out because I thought my own hair would look more realistic there. It was extremely hot as a result, but there was one benefit—thanks to the wig, I did not feel the heat in the scene where I was enveloped by flames. It was inconvenient but I had fun expressing the ambiance of that time period with the long hair. I was able to wear a lot of beautiful traditional clothing. I feel like I have  worn everything except the king’s dragon robes now. Armor was a lot of fun too.

His calm, deep voice was very attractive, but because it was his first time in a historical drama, he found it difficult to enunciate.

WDH: Vocalization in a historical drama is different compared to a contemporary drama. It was a bit of a long process for Se-jeong and me; we'd consult with the director and then fumble around stressing out about it. I felt a strong sense of relief after we got through the opening scenes. But the next drama that I will be appearing in after “My Country” is “The King: Eternal Monarch”, so I will once again have to take some time to transform into my period drama mannerisms (laugh). I wanted to stay immersed in Nam Seon-ho’s mindset for a little longer, but regrettably I wasn’t able to. Right away I cut my hair and started filming a new work.

He continues challenging himself to do new things-- his first romance was “The Great Seducer”, his first historical drama was “My Country”, and for his newest work, “The King: Eternal Monarch”, he will play two roles for the first time. This time what will he show everyone as he takes on this challenge?

WDH: I want to act in a historical drama again. And romances, action shows-- there are many things I'd like to do. I won't say, "I did it once already, so I don't want to do it again for a while." Even if the genre is the same, the story and characters are different, so I always keep an open mind. 

After a 9 month period of long-term filming, Woo Do-hwan feels more gratitude towards his fans.

WDH: During times when I am filming or times that are physically and mentally arduous, I remind myself of how much appreciation fans have given me, that so many have been kind enough to watch my work, and I feel like I have to work hard for them, for all of you. That feeling became even stronger as I was doing “My Country”. I often think about how I can give back to fans. I am always thankful to you guys.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Thirty Nine

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

March 1st, 2001

Remy was trying to stifle giggles and failing miserably at it. He had come to check on how Emile was doing with his final tutoring session of the day, and arrived at the scene of Emile being pinned down by six kids while two or three more ran circles around his body, chanting something or another. Remy wasn’t entirely sure that Emile wasn’t being used in a human sacrifice to some eldritch being. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

One of the kids’ heads popped up. “Mister Remy! Is dinner ready?”

“Just about,” Remy confirmed. “So you might want to give Mister Emile a break, sound good?”

The kids all left the room in an instant, and Emile sat up, groaning. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Any time, my dear partner in all things illegal,” Remy said with a smile. "Anything for you."

  July 18th, 2001

Remy knew that he had to do something special. Emile had to work three night shifts in a row, restocking and working the floor and being wherever he was needed at that point in time. On one hand, it was nice that they would have a little extra cash from all the long hours, but on the other, Emile was constantly dead on his feet, when he wasn’t flat-out sleeping the entire day in his room.

Now, Emile had slept for ten hours, and Remy had everything planned out for a domestic day in. He had taken the liberty to get what they needed for pancake batter for breakfast, and he had all the She-Ra episodes Emile had compiled set up for a mini-marathon, plus a couple other animated movies Remy knew Emile had a soft spot for. Then, he had stuff for a simple lunch. Sandwiches, mostly, but it was still nice. And that evening, they had plans to help at the shelter, so dinner was taken care of for them.

Remy crept into Emile’s room, where Emile was still passed out on the bed. Remy shook Emile’s shoulder. Emile grumbled and buried his head in the pillow. “No, if you don’t let me get away with napping for more than an hour, I won’t let you sleep for more than ten hours in a row unless something super drastic happens,” Remy laughed.

“Remy, lemme sleep,” Emile grumbled.

“But if you sleep, you miss out on a domestic morning in with me!” Remy said with an exaggerated pout. “And I was so looking forward to making pancakes with you.”

Emile removed his face from the pillows. “Pancakes?”

Jackpot. “Pancakes, mio amore,” Remy confirmed. “Made just the way you like, provided you help me.”

Emile sat up with a stretch. “Do we have blueberries to toss in?”

“That we do, I splurged a little on our last shopping trip,” Remy confirmed.

“Okay, I’m up, I’m up,” Emile said, getting out of bed. “Let’s cook us some pancakes.”

Remy grinned and ushered Emile out of his bedroom with a bow. “The most handsome men go first,” he said with a grin.

“Oh, then why are you insisting that I go first?” Emile retorted.

“Because I am not handsome, I am drop-dead gorgeous and what I say goes,” Remy teased. “You. Out. Kitchen. Pancakes.”

“All right, all right!” Emile laughed.

They went to the kitchen and Emile sighed happily. “I’m really happy that we can do something special on a day that is just...kind of...there.”

“Well, we both appreciate the little moments,” Remy reasoned. “So I figured, why not, you know? Let’s make a special morning after you’ve been running yourself into the ground.”

“In other words, give me a reason to not sleep the entire day and then some?” Emile asked, arching an eyebrow.

“More like a thank you for the extra cash we’ll have from you picking up shifts,” Remy said. “I can’t thank you enough for giving us enough money that we could buy blueberries of all things.”

Emile laughed. “Well, I’m happy I could help,” he said. “I actually have a trust fund from my late grandmother, but according to her will, I don’t have access to it until I’m twenty one. Maybe at that point we can get blueberries and strawberries, though.”

“That would be great,” Remy said with a grin. “We could get actual fruit once a month without worrying about our bank accounts. Is it lame that I find that exciting?”

“No, I think it’s pretty cool, too,” Emile said. “Having fruit once a month, being able to go to places other than pizzarias for dates, it would be fun.”

Remy nodded and got everything that they needed for the pancake mix onto the counters. “You know, there’s a manager position opening in the next few months at the local shop. The current manager is being moved to a secondary location which needs more help.”

“Think you’ll apply for the position?” Emile asked.

“I was gonna try, but I’m not expecting much to come out of it,” Remy admitted. “After all, I haven’t even been working with them for a year, yet.”

“You’ve told me you have better work ethic than most of your coworkers, or at least you care more than they do. Don’t most people at the local chain just...skate by?” Emile asked.

Remy shrugged. “They generally favor people who work there for a long time, even if they don’t actually work that hard. I’m lucky that Marcy saw that I was pulling most of the weight at work and decided to give me a small raise. And I hate to say it, but I think I have better co-workers at Starbucks. August is great, and so’s Brian, and while the manager there sucks, each of us can keep the others’ spirits up pretty easily. I don’t know which chain I’d stick with if I only had to work one job.”

Emile hummed in thought as he measured out water. Remy turned to him. “What?” he asked.

“Meh, it’s probably nothing,” Emile said. “But I was wondering, I mean, you love cooking and experimenting with all kinds of food and stuff...would you ever want to branch out from being a barista, and try being a chef of some sort? Go to culinary school, or whatever?”

“Not really,” Remy laughed. “I love cooking, Emile, don’t get me wrong, but being a barista is somehow relaxing after a while. I’m good at it, and I know what I’m doing. I talked to Marcy recently about how the shop was doing and was able to follow most of what she was saying about the business side of things. I don’t think I’d want to move out of coffee shops. But I wouldn’t object to being a manager instead of a barista.”

“What about an owner?” Emile asked.

Remy laughed. “Emile, that would never happen in a million years. I don’t have the money to start up my own shop.”

“Hey, if I can do mental exercises about what it would be like to be a dad, then you can do some about being a shop owner. Would you like it, do you think?”

Remy considered. It would be a lot of pressure, and everything would rest on his shoulders, but that wasn’t a bad thing. And he knew enough about business to run a small shop. Maybe not a chain, but he didn’t have to run a chain if one shop theoretically sustained them both. “Probably,” he eventually settled on. “I’d get to make my own recipes, be my own boss, I could kick customers out if they weren’t being kind to either the workers or myself. It would be a lot of work, but it would be worth it, you know? Theoretically.”

“Yeah, theoretically I think it would be great,” Emile said. “Sounds like something you could do out of spite, too. They don’t move you up the food chain? Quit and start your own shop, that outdoes theirs and makes them have to leave town.”

Remy laughed. “Of course, because I could totally have the money and the means to do that.”

“Hey, like I said, it’s just a ‘what if’ situation,” Emile shrugged.

Remy shook his head. He really didn’t understand Emile sometimes.

They made the pancakes together, enjoying each others company and poking fun at each other as they worked, and then ate. Remy told Emile about his plans for a cartoon marathon and Emile looked like he was about to cry happy tears. “What’s the big deal?” Remy asked. “I let you watch cartoon marathons all the time.”

“Yeah, but you don’t do it with me, and you don’t encourage it,” Emile pointed out. “And considering that you started out being convinced that cartoons were entirely childish and I should have grown out of my love for them, this is a big step in my opinion. You might have come around slowly, but I haven’t seen that progress, so when you casually show support it’s like a shock to the system. A good shock, but a shock nonetheless.”

Remy sat there for a moment, stunned. He had forgotten that Emile didn’t see all his progress, all his talks with Kim, everything that went into his therapy sessions. He only saw the end product. He didn’t want to show Emile that whole thought process, though. That was a conversation Remy didn’t feel up to right now. So he said, “I guess you have a point,” instead.

They watched cartoons until it was four in the evening, and then they headed out towards the shelter. Remy generally helped cook food and serve it for dinner, while Emile helped entertain the small children, so they didn’t always work side-by-side, but they got to talk on the way over, and the way back, and of course, they got to have dinner too before they left.

Today, though, the walk to the shelter was done in companionable silence. They just walked side by side, a little too close to be just friendly, hands brushed against each other, but neither of them reached for the other. When they got to the shelter, they walked in and immediately Emile was swarmed by a dozen tiny humans all vying for his attention at once. Remy laughed and pecked Emile’s cheek as he went to the kitchen.

Cooking was entertaining enough. Remy had become the unofficial head chef on accident after revealing how good a cook he was when he wanted to put in the effort. He had to keep the others on track, sometimes, but everyone there worked their best and he got to have a few laughs with them every time they worked together.

They rang the bell to start dinner and people lined up as usual, Remy serving them as usual, and when everyone had food, the volunteers came into the back grabbing the remains of the dinner, heading out to eat at the tables as well. Remy sat next to Emile and they both worked on sandwiches. “The kids were very excited to see you kiss me,” Emile said casually.

“I kiss you all the time,” Remy said, frowning.

“Yeah, but apparently they didn’t realize you were my boyfriend, and some of them hadn’t realized that boys can like boys and girls can like girls. So what usually involved me being a monster with the kids grabbing on my legs and me roaring like Godzilla became an actual discussion about romance, and love, and all that good stuff,” Emile explained.

“Huh,” was all Remy said. The mental image of Emile being a giant monster for the kids made him giggle, though, almost as much as the time he found Emile lying on the floor, laughing as half a dozen of the gremlins were keeping him pinned down.

“Yeah. Kids are incredibly accepting, believe it or not. Provided you tell them something is okay, they’ll generally believe you. And the older ones might ask questions, but generally it’s nothing too invasive. And it’s fun to get to play with them in the off-months when they don’t have school. Sure, tutoring is useful, but it’s nice to play with them, too, you know what I mean?”

“Not really, but I appreciate your enthusiasm and enjoyment of it,” Remy said with a shrug.

Emile grinned and Bernie looked at the two of them. “I’m pleased that the both of you help here regularly. It’s nice to have people I can count on, and you two make a good team. I’m sure that if you ever had kids, you both would be excellent fathers.”

Remy made a noncommittal noise. “I don’t know, Bernie. Helping kids for a couple hours a day is one thing. Dealing with them virtually twenty four-seven is another. I’m not entirely sure that I could handle that.”

“You wouldn’t be doing it alone,” Emile offered. “But I agree. I don’t see kids being part of our future. Raising them seems like a daunting task. Obviously, I’d do it if needed, but it would definitely take a lot.”

“We do make a good team, though,” Remy said with a grin.

Emile ducked his head and smiled. “We do,” he agreed.