#he thinks cooper is incredibly hot and hes older

[hevanderson]

i wish they maintained blaine and sam being in the same grade as kurt or in the grade above, not because it makes more sense for their characters, but because it would keep up the streak of kurt being into older guys

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Prewar!Cooper Howard has a little kink that he's embarrassed to discuss...

He's taken you to your first fancy Hollywood shindig, a cocktail party at some important producer or something's palatial home. It's the first time you two have gone out in public together as a couple, and Cooper had initially been nervous, both about the way people would talk and who would hear that talk, but things had been fun and relaxing all evening, leaving you celebratory and clinging to one another affectionately on the cab ride back home.

You peel off your heels and drop them by the door, missing the way he eyes you as you do. The ache in your arches is distracting at this point, and you crack a joke about the things being torture devices as you shuck them. They're your favorite shoes for nice occasions, earning you plenty of compliments as well as lots of praise from Coop, but they're a pain.

Both of you settle on the couch, your head resting on the arm as you recline, your feet in his lap. He's turned on the radio and is humming along with some slow tune. The liquor had been flowing heavy at the party, and you're both a little toasty as you joke and recount the night's events.

Offhandedly, you mention again that your feet are absolutely killing you from standing in your stilettos all night. Your thoughtful boyfriend quickly offers to rub them for you, and you happily allow him to grab the first stocking-clad appendage, settling in on your back as he begins to rub away.

You can't help but notice, though, that there's a growing tent in his pants as he digs his thumbs into the soft fabric of your stockings, as you hum and sigh approvingly at the way he rubs away the throbbing.

At first, it brings a little grin to your lips, stealing a glance at him, seeing the heavy blush creeping up his neck. Naturally, you assume he's reacting to the sounds you're making, and you begin to tease him with the only appendage you have within reach: your sole.

To say that he enjoys you rubbing your nylon-wrapped foot against his erection is a major understatement. It's clear he's embarrassed, avoiding your eyes as they search for his, but it's also clear that this is driving him wild, his hips involuntarily grinding against your heel as he continues on with the "massage", which is rapidly devolving into him simply pressing your foot down into his lap.

It goes from amusing to arousing quickly, and before you know it, you've splayed your other foot against the floor so that he can watch as you slide your hand into your panties, rubbing feverish little circles around your clit as you watch him hump against your socked foot.

Things rapidly reach a fever pitch, and soon, you're yanked completely into his lap, aggressively riding your way through some very risky unprotected sex. Normally, you're both much more careful than this, but something about what you've just gotten up to has you both so hot and bothered that you can't even make it upstairs to where you keep the condoms. He doesn't even attempt to pull out, only pins you on your back in the soft cushions as he spills inside you.

Neither of you brings it up again for a few days, and you come to assume it was just a silly little experiment inspired by the alcohol. One of your favorite things about being with Cooper is how the older man teaches you things, allows you to experiment in a way that makes you feel safe, so him wanting to try something a bit weird once is unsurprising to you.

However, a few days later, he surprises you with a spa day, pays for you to be pampered while he spends the day on set. One of the services included is a pedicure, but you think nothing of it between the facial and the seaweed wrap. Naturally, when you're home again that evening, you're incredibly relaxed and Coop is more than happy to take advantage of that, spreading your stress free body across the bed and worshiping every inch.

It's when he's on top of you and easing his way inside that it becomes apparent that he may have ulterior motives. He admires the softness of your skin after all the spoiling, running his hands along the velvety expanse of your thigh, tracing up to grope at your calf as he pumps between your legs. They're hooked over his shoulders, and he slowly bends one to trail kisses, up and up, from your kneecap to your ankle, his mischievous gaze burning into you as the kisses continue onto the arch of your foot, bent in for proper access. This tickles, but in a way that tingles up your spine. You're already very close to cumming.

But then he opens his mouth and sort of half-guides your toes to his lips, sucking them gently into his mouth, and the shock and sensation flying down your spine is enough to violently shove you over the edge, spasms rocking your whole body as he strums the sensitive spot between your first two toes with the tip of his tongue. This is more than enough to force you to cum and to force you to accept that fancy movie star Cooper Howard may actually have a bit of a foot fetish.

This is certainly not a kink of his that he would've freely discussed before, between the social stigma of being one of "those guys" and the fact that he's never really had a partner who was too keen on exploring in bed. The thoughts had been there in the past, but were easily brushed off with just a little self-consciousness. With you, though, he feels the sort of connection that allows him to know you'd never judge him.

There's a lot of experimenting in your future.

[notelasts]

some dodge mason headcanons that no one asked for + a bonus riff one

dodge was the one to suggest they move back to carp. he knew that if he wanted to play panic, he needed to re-enroll in high school as a senior in carp, so he convinced his mom to move them back to carp so that he could re-enroll. he claimed it was because he wanted a fresh start, and they moved back to carp a year before the events of panic take place.

the watch that dodge has was an eleventh birthday present from his dad. it’s one of the only gifts that dodge ever got from his dad. he wears it upside down because that’s how his dad used to wear it. he hasn’t taken it off since he got it.

he hooked up with a fair amount of people in the year following his dad’s death and dayna’s accident to cope with his grief and his guilt.

he thinks he could’ve fallen for nat if she hadn’t used dayna for his personal challenge, but the crush that he’d developed on her immediately died off when he learned that she’d used dayna. (he’s not even sure if he did have a crush on her or if he was just physically attracted to her, but he doesn’t care to figure it out since there’s no point in it anymore.)

dodge wasn’t really mentally present for his hookup with nat. the grief of talking about his dad blindsided him to nat’s intentions and it was easier to just go through the motions than try to be present. he made sure nat enjoyed herself but other than that, he wasn’t really putting much effort into being there.

dodge uses some of his panic money to buy a used pickup truck and the rest of it goes towards treatment for dayna.

he doesn’t really know what to do once panic ends. he’d spent three years formulating his plan for revenge and he’s left unsure once it doesn’t get enacted, but he tries his best to move on.

dodge listens pretty exclusively to country music. he knows other artists, but his favorite genre is country and that’s what he’ll be listening to 99.9% of the time.

he’s an incredibly good line dancer. his favorites dances are ones with fast footwork.

he’s extremely good with animals, and horses are his strong suit. he’s never met a horse he couldn’t get to cooperate.

he’s beaten countless rodeo records before and he’ll continue to do it so long as he keeps performing. his strongest events are saddle bronc, and mounted shooting, but he also does roping and barrel racing from time to time.

he isn’t the type to call a girl “hot.” he thinks it’s rude.

dodge has known anne since he was a kid, and she is the only person that can call dodge “andy.” dayna doesn’t even have the privilege, but dayna calls him dodge most of the time and andrew when he’s in trouble, so it works out.

dodge is a little pretentious when it comes to panic. he doesn’t like it when people play just to play, or when people treat it like a joke. he has a reason for playing, and he tends to only respect other players that are playing for a reason, not just because they could or because it would make a cool story one day or they were bored.

and bonus riff headcanon

riff will talk to kids if it’s 100% clear that he will have no part in raising them. once he becomes part of their life, he gets scared he’ll mess them up and he retreats and becomes distant. he likes older kids (twelve and up) better than younger kids because he never really knows what to do around younger kids. however, he’s more than likely to tell a kid to scram rather than talk to them, no matter how old they are.

[howlinchickhowl]

Alright so it’s time again for me to tell you a story about how it came about that I decided to write a thing. 

The incomparable @grabmyboner posted this AU of Mickey being featured in a Buzzfeed article listing the hottest guys to have ever been arrested. 

And then @milkymickeyway​ reblogged it and added this tag. 

And then my brain went 🤔 And now this exists. Written with full permission from Zo who is incredibly gracious. I hope you enjoy! 

😎

“Uh, hey Ian?” 

Ian sighs as he looks up, interrupted for the fourth time in less than an hour, cursing the asshole who invented open plan office spaces and wishing for, at the very least, a cubicle. 

Cooper-The-Intern is hovering on the other side of the bank of computer desks to Ian, collapsible eco-cup in one hand, looking at him nervously. Cooper-The-Intern is only a week into the job and he’s still wary of interrupting people, despite interrupting people being the main part of his job, and a mainstay of the Buzzfeed office culture. Ian’s been with the company two years and never once in all that time has he managed to sit down and complete a task start to finish without being pulled away to do something else. It’s just life.

But Cooper-The-Intern doesn’t know that yet, and he’s probably been yelled at a couple of times already today, so Ian tries to swallow his irritation and offers him a gentle smile. 

“What’s up Cooper?” 

“Uh, this is weird, but there’s a guy here asking for you?”

It is kind of weird. Generally people don’t just show up at their offices. Ian doesn’t consider his role to be customer facing so it’s hard to imagine what anyone would want to come down here to see him for.

“For me?”

“Well, not, no not for you by name? But he is asking for” Cooper pauses to consult the notes on his phone “the asshole who wrote this bullshit article about hot criminals.” 

He gives Ian a sheepish smile. “I think that’s you? He had a printout.”

“A printout?” Cooper holds out about 6 sheets of paper, printed front and back. The first three of which are indeed a printout of an article Ian had published earlier in the week. 13 Mugshots of the Hottest Guys Ever Arrested. A bit cringey, maybe not his best work, but it had been fun to put together. He and Stacey (Stacey-the-man not Stacey-the-lesbian, Stacey-the-lesbian would never) had combed through hundreds of mugshots debating the relative hotness of about two hundred convicts which is not at all a bad way to spend an afternoon. And the response on the site and on twitter had been pretty positive.

 The remaining papers in Ian’s hand showed the first page and a half of the comments section underneath the article, and then at the very end, the website’s footer with the site menu and contact details. 

“Yeah like he’d printed the article off the internet. Who even does that?” 

It is unusual, Ian has to admit.

“Is he older? Sometimes people, if they didn’t grow up with the internet you know, they like to print things out to read them.”

“No, he’s definitely not older. He’s number three.”

“Number three of what?” 

“The mugshots!” Cooper grabs the papers back from Ian and flips them over to shove the top of the list under his nose. “He’s number three of the hottest guys to ever have been arrested!”

Ian looks down at the list again, zeroing in on number three with renewed interest. Dark hair, pale skin, a scruffy covering of facial hair, and eyes that, even in a mugshot, look like you could fall into them. 

“What? No fucking way!” Scrambling out from behind his desk, Ian just about falls over his own feet on the way around the row of desks to meet Cooper on the other side. Is this guy really here? In the building?!

“Way. Look!”  Cooper points toward one of the glass-walled meeting rooms across the other side of the work-space. It’s right on the edge and sort of half around a corner so that there is some illusion of privacy for people having meetings or taking phone calls, and so that the activity outside in the bullpen isn’t distracting, meaning Ian and Cooper are just about safe to stand and stare for a couple of minutes without being seen, thank God. 

Because the man inside the meeting room, pacing like an angry bull and stopping to glare out of the glass walls every so often when someone happens to glance his way? That man is hot. 

He’s wearing light-wash jeans with a soft looking beige Henley and a forest green vest. The jeans fit him, really well, and when he pauses in his pacing he crosses his arms over his chest and Ian can tell, even from across the room, he’s kind of built. 

Glancing down at the picture from his article, Ian thinks he looks a bit softer in person. Which makes sense, you don’t exactly look your most relaxed when you’re getting your mugshot taken, but it’s definitely him. Number three.

Beneath the picture is the caption Ian and Stacey had thought up together. And at the time he had thought it was pretty funny and playful, but now standing ten feet from the guy he wrote it about Ian is feeling pretty embarrassed to have written and then deliberately published those words. 

Charge: Two counts of being a sexy bad boy. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Do you think he’s here to kill me?” Ian wonders, tearing his eyes from the article to look back up at Cooper. Cooper does not look reassuring.

“His knuckles have fuck you up tattooed on them.” Cooper tells him and bites his lip, worried. 

Cooper-The-Intern is from someplace in upstate New York, he’s a nice-enough guy. One of those nice-enough guys who comes from money and gets sushi for lunch twice a week and says things like ‘I’m not wealthy, my parents are’ as if that’s not the same thing. He’s not a dick. Doesn’t think he’s better than anyone or anything. But he’s never seen anyone with knuckle tats before and Ian can tell he’s pretty freaked out.

Ian grew up in a neighborhood where you could get your knuckles tattooed at a neighborhood barbecue as long as you were able to form full sentences and spell whatever you wanted done. He learned to fight before he learned to ride a bike, and for several years of his high-school career he spent every Tuesday and Saturday morning learning the most efficient ways to kill a man in ROTC training. Hot Convict Number Three might be there to give an unsuspecting Buzzfeed employee a beat-down, but Ian hasn’t been unsuspecting in a long old time so he’s pretty sure he can take him. 

That doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy messing with Cooper-The-Intern just a little bit though.

He returns the worried look Cooper is giving him with a resigned sigh.

“Alright. You got a post-it?” 

“Uh, yeah?” Cooper grabs a pad of post-its off the nearest desk and hands it to Ian, who tugs the pen from behind his ear and scribbles quickly SWallAC3, handing it back to Cooper with a grim smile and a shrug. 

“My desktop log-in, in case I end up in the hospital or something. I have that Tom Hiddleston article going up this afternoon, and there is footage from Darcy’s lipstick-mixing video I’ve been working on that she’ll need before Thursday.“

Cooper gapes at him, if he were Carl Ian would probably stick a finger in his mouth. 

“Should I call the police or something?” 

“Just keep an eye.” He waves him off, trying to stay nonchalant through his urge to laugh. “If it starts to look like I’m losing too much blood just alert security, they’ll deal with it.” 

And with a shrug and a determined sounding inhale, Ian makes his way across the office to the meeting room where Hot Convict Number Three awaits. 

The guys spots Ian coming towards him after about four steps, and he turns to face Ian’s direction, crossing his arms again, leaning back just slightly and swiping at his nose with a thumb. Ian thinks it’s meant to be intimidating but he can feel his cheeks heat with the flush of attraction. He was in the top five for a reason. 

Ian puts on his politest smile as he pushes the meeting room door gently open and then closed again behind him. He meets the guy’s eyes and takes a breath.

“Hello sir, I’m Ian Gallagher. I am told you would like to discuss an article that I wrote?” He gestures the papers in his hands, the printout of the guy’s picture sitting on top.

“No I don’t want to discuss it I want you to take it the fuck down!” 

His voice is deeper than Ian would have guessed, just from the size of him. Up-close Ian can see that the vest he’s wearing used to actually have sleeves, and he wonders what they did to offend him. His eyes, that look like bottomless black pits in his mugshot, are actually a ridiculous bright blue, animated with anger in a way that should not be beautiful but kind of is. His lips are wide and pink, bitten sore and set a very serious scowl that makes Ian feel a little unhinged with how hot he thinks it is. His hair is short on the sides but fluffy on the top and Ian has the absurd urge to pet it? He really has to get himself in check.

“I’m sorry I really can’t do that.” He says, as politely as he can manage while also looking over those knuckle tattoos and wondering if there are any others hiding beneath all those layers.

“Yeah. You really fucking can.” Hot Convict Number Three tells him,  head tilting to one side. “It’s got my picture in it, don’t you gotta have my permission or something?” He purses his lips and raises his eyebrows and Ian kind of wants to lick him on his lips and his jaw and that ticking muscle in his neck oh god.

“Uh-“ Ian starts but has to stop to clear his throat when Hot Convict Number Three flicks his tongue out to wet his lips in a way that’s probably meant to be intimidating but in reality just sends shivers down Ian’s spine. “Uhm.” The guy swallows. Ian has to resist the urge to shove his fist in his mouth. 

“Well, we’re not using video or a recording of your voice, so legally, no, we don’t need your permission.” 

“Oh, legally you don’t need my permission, right, right, well how about your fingers smart guy do you need those? Or are you still gonna have a job typing out your shitty little articles with your nose after I cut them all off and shove ‘em down your throat?” 

It’s a threat, clearly. The guy stepping up close to him and tilting his chin up, tongue coming out to graze his lower lip again once he’s done. And Ian can’t help but think he responds the exact opposite way to how he’s supposed to as he feels his mouth spread wide into a grin beyond his control. His eyes drop to the guy’s lips and watches as they form a frown, glancing back up to see confusion flit across ice blue eyes. 

He shrugs, and it doesn’t escape his notice that his chest brushes against the other man’s where he’s squared up to Ian. It also doesn’t escape his notice that he doesn’t step back. 

“I mean it would be tough, sure, but with disability laws how they are these days I don’t think they’d be able to fire me. Plus you know technology advancements, voice to text dictation. Think I’d be ok.” 

The guy narrows his eyes, thrown off his game by Ian’s clear lack of intimidation. He tilts his head, like he’s trying to work something out.

“Be tough to wipe your ass.” 

Ian lets his mouth widen into a smirk, and watches as Hot Convict Number Three’s eyes drop to his lips for half a second before flicking back up to meet his eyes. 

Oh. 

Is he?

No. Surely.

“I’d find someone to help.” Ian says lowly, just testing the waters.

The guy licks his lips, sucks in a stuttery breath, like maybe it’s gotten a little difficult to breathe. 

“What about jacking off?” He’s gay. He’s absolutely gay. Hot Convict Number Three is gay and hot and, judging by the thickness of the air in the mere inches separating their faces, he’s into Ian. This was not how he imagined his day going when he woke up this morning.

“Find someone for that too.” He smirks again, and dares to lean forward just a fraction, forcing the guy back for a second before he pushes forward again into Ian’s space. 

“Yeah I bet.” 

“What’s your name?” Ian asks him, and is rewarded with a smirk that makes his toes curl and the ends of his fingers tingle.

“Whaddaya wanna know that for?” God he’s so attractive. They’re just sort of swaying back and forth now, breathing in each other’s space and brushing up against each other. Every point of contact like a live-wire sparking in the base of Ian’s spine. He could do this for the rest of the day, but someone probably has to use the meeting room at some point. Time to move this along.

“Kinda weird to keep calling you Hot Convict Number Three in my head when I’m pretty sure I’m gonna have my dick in your ass.” 

Can a chuckle be sexy? Ian had never considered before that it could be but Hot Convict Number Three is chuckling and damn if Ian doesn’t think it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

“Oh you’re pretty sure about that are you? Don’t even know if I’m gay man.” 

Ian has to put his hands on him. Has to. He stretches his fingers out to rest at jeans-covered hips, just lightly, no pressure, meets the guy’s eyes to gage his reaction. He doesn’t move away.

“What’s your name?” 

“It actually is Hot Convict Number Three, honestly. Kinda weird, huh?” He grins, like he’s proud of himself and Ian wants to lick his teeth.

“Crazy coincidence.” His fingers move to sit properly on the guy’s hips, squeeze experimentally, he hooks his right thumb into a belt loop. Hot Convict Number Three pushes at his shoulders gently, and then segues that into just pressing into his chest, feeling him up a little bit, pulling at the string of his hoody. They stick there a minute, swaying around each other, openly grinning in the glass-walled meeting room of Ian’s place of business. He regrets nothing.

“And also, what the fuck is with me being number three?” Curled fists thump his shoulders, though without any kind of force and punctuated with an eyebrow raise and a bitten lip. He’s flirting. “That’s some bullshit right there.” 

“Did you see the top two?” 

“Yeah man I saw them, they ain’t shit.” Ian shrugs and leans his shoulders back a little, making sure to keep them pressed together from the hips down, wanting this ridiculous man to feel every inch of where his blood is headed. 

“Heterochromia’s pretty hot, man.” 

“There’s nothing hot about bein’ hetero. You one of those guys is only into straight dudes?” 

“What’s your name?” He squeezes his hips again, pulling slightly until they’re flush against Ian’s own. He can feel firm thighs pressed against his, the brush of soft stomach as he breathes in and out. 

“Mickey. Milkovich.” Mickey Milkovich. 

“You wanna get out of here Mickey Milkovich?” Mickey tilts his head to one side, pretends to consider for like a full thirty seconds, while Ian rubs his thumbs back and forth over his hips, squeezes his fingers into the flesh above his ass. 

“Yeah alright.” He says eventually, pulling away and making for the door, Ian following. He calls back just as he opens the meeting room door, just a touch too loudly. “But you’re buying me a hotdog before you stick it in me man, I’m fuckin’ hungry.”

Ian laughs and ducks his head as a shocked hush falls over the bullpen, everyone trying their best not to stare at them. 

“Sure Mickey. It’s a date.” 

They head for the elevators, and Ian drops back a couple of steps, taking the opportunity to check out the ass that’s filling his jeans. They pass Cooper-The-Intern, looking stunned by the cereal bar, and Ian can’t resist stopping for a second, leaning in and murmuring with a wink,

“I’m gonna take lunch.” Laughing as he jogs a few steps to meet Mickey Milkovich, smirking at the elevators. 

He takes a three hour lunch. 

[gleekto]

Fic: Crush Into Me (21/22)

 Summary:  Third year NYADA student, Kurt, returns to Lima for an internship coaching the Glee club. The leather jacket and eyebrow ring-clad senior, Blaine, thinks he’s cute.

slightly older teacher-ish!Kurt/ badboy!Blaine

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty

Day Twenty-One (Blaine) (word: Work and Rise is in here unintentionally!):

Blaine’s eyes open and his clock is blinking at him that it’s 8:30am. He feels hot all over and a bit sore. He turns to go back to sleep but there is someone in his bed. Kurt. In only his boxers. 

It’s Sunday morning after they won sectionals. And he and Kurt had sex. And a sleepover apparently. Fortunately his parents are away until tonight. Kurt is curled up in a ball, sleeping peacefully on the other side of the bed. It gives Blaine enough time to brace himself. Last time they had only kissed and it led to days of Kurt’s friendship turning to cool neutrality, made better only by a gentleman’s truce to cooperate and win. And now the high of winning had led to so much more than kissing. Blaine readies himself for a quick goodbye and a thank you, with barely an acknowledgment next week in Glee club. He’ll have to manage.

Blaine knows it’s his fault and he knew what he was getting himself into. He told Kurt that there were no strings attached. He’s sure Kurt wouldn’t have agreed to come home with him if there had been. It was worth it - God, last night was incredible. Better than Blaine’s wildest fantasies. And most of all, Kurt was open and into it and into him. Blaine could feel it in the way he looked him in the eyes and in his touch. The connection was real, however fleeting, and Blaine could never regret it. Still, ripping off this band aid is going to sting. He stands up and grabs a t-shirt. This is not a moment he wants to be half naked for.

“Blaine?” Blaine’s shuffling has apparently woken Kurt up. “What time is it?”

Blaine glances over “8:50.”

“You’re an early riser. Come back to bed -” Kurt looks around suddenly. “Unless, oh my god are your parents home?” Kurt sits up quickly.

Blaine laughs. “No, no. No parents in sight. Was just getting ready for the day, I guess.”

Kurt pulls aside the blanket, making room for him back in the bed. “How about you start the day in bed?”

Blaine looks at him suspiciously. “So is it after that that you’re going to remind me there are no strings attached and pretend last night never happened?”

Kurt looks taken aback and Blaine crosses his arms defensively. Kurt purses his lips. “I guess I don’t have a great track record.”

“No. Not really. And if you remember before we,” Blaine pauses, “had sex, you had already admitted that you didn’t know what you wanted. I knew. I know. But I asked for last night and I said no strings attached,” He sighs. “So you’re free to go. Cord cut.” Blaine gestures to the now open door of his bedroom.

Kurt shakes his head. “No.”

“What no?”

“No. As in, no I don’t want to go. And no need to cut the cord.” Kurt sits up, mussed hair and bare torso with Blaine’s quilt surrounding him. The scene is so domestic, it tugs at Blaine’s heart and he quickly shakes the thought away. “Just to be clear, because I guess I haven’t been - I know what I want. Actually already knew before last night. But if sexual chemistry is any indication of how things are going to go - and it isn’t -” Kurt looks up. “It sure would have sealed the deal.”

“Wait,” Blaine searches Kurt’s face. “What exactly are you saying?”

“That the sex was amazing.” Kurt is biting his lower lip and almost bashful. 

“Obviously,” Blaine says dismissively, but he feels lighter, a smile escaping his lips. Flirty. He sits back down on the bed. “But it isn’t an indication of how things are going to work.”

“No. But our friendship is.” Kurt leans over to Blaine and kisses him softly on the mouth. Blaine kisses back. Wow. Okay. This morning has turned out much better than Blaine expected. He pulls Kurt down back under the covers with him. Blaine smiles. “So aren’t you going to say anything?” Kurt is fishing now. Welcome change.

“Yeah,” Blaine nods and turns on his side to face Kurt. “I told you so.” 

[woodchoc-magnum]

L*ne St*r Hate Watch 3x13

Disclaimer: If you love this show, don't read this, please have a great day

As always, Eddie Diaz to open:

I am completely unspoiled for this, so let's go

Tommy's hair looks AWESOME

All right so the first emergency is a girl who crashed into a truck with a load of hay, and they rescued her but it turned out she actually wiped out a cyclist and severed his foot. So then there's a jaunty segment of them trying to find the footless cyclist, which is like, weirdly upbeat

Carlos is wearing glasses and I'm… very into it

Very, very into it

TK is attending meetings due to the whole Sadie drugging him thing

Okay so now there's this guy named Cooper (and if you've read the Songs fics, you know I'm instantly intrigued) who has been attending the meetings with TK

Cooper and TK went out to eat after the meeting, and TK asked him to be his sponsor

Carlos is jealous

Ah, what a healthy relationship you guys

Instant jealousy and suspicion

I have a feeling I'm going to be subjected to a lot of TK this episode

Sometimes I get the vibe that Carlos is way more into this relationship than TK is? And I'm not 100% sure that's what they're going for

Omg Tommy's hair game this episode, you guys, it is ON POINT, she looks incredible

There's a hot guy at her grief meeting and she's into him

Tommy's going on a date with him, get it girl

Okay so now it's the middle of the night, and Carlos wakes up alone, and TK is on the phone with Cooper

Trouble in paradise for the world's most solid couple

God damn it, it's a Rob Lowe sex scene, and here I was thinking that maybe this episode would be a little light on Owen

Amy Acker could do better I'm just saying

Owen has now offered to take care of Amy Acker's cat and I'm particularly concerned for the wellbeing of this cat named Horatio, a cat I have not seen yet but am already in love with

He's a hairless cat

Owen still has the dog??

I'm worried about the cat

Amy Acker is worried about Owen meeting her ex so I'm excited to meet him

I wonder if he's gonna get punched

Okay Owen does still have the dog, but Mateo has to move out (temporarily) because he's allergic to cats

WE'RE ABOUT TO MEET THE EX I'm EXCITED

Omg okay so you're sort of led to believe that he's going to be similar to Rob Lowe in appearance? But instead it's this older guy in a baseball cap who looks absolutely nothing like him, so expect Owen spiralling to happen any second now

The good news is that I'm not expecting this dude to get punched

Okay the dude is bald and Owen is SPIRALLING

Now we're back to the world's most solid and stable couple

So TK is going to his second meeting for the day and he's wearing nice clothes – I feel like the show is definitely hinting at the "TK and Cooper might be a thing" angle but I'm betting that when we meet Cooper, he'll be some kindly old guy or something, and Carlos will feel foolish for ever having doubted TK

BUT in saying that… there are some issues to unpack here, like Carlos trying to be supportive and wanting to listen to TK, and TK shutting him down every single time. And then also the fact that TK simply mentions a new guy and Carlos is instantly jealous/worried? That's… not great

We're about to MEET HIM

Oh shit he's hot

I was wrong

He's very hot

Uh oh

Carlos fucking hates him

Judd does not care for cats. Judd has dropped a couple of rungs in my estimation

Owen is spiralling about how Amy Acker's ex-husband is an "older gentleman" and how she said she had a "type"

Honestly, if she does have a type, it's terrible.

They're trying to say that Amy Acker has daddy issues. But honestly, I'm just going to say that she has terrible taste in men

Tommy is going on her date and she looks like a fucking goddess

Grace is such a wonderful friend; I love these two so much

There have been no emergencies since the very first one at the start of the episode, and we are 26 minutes in

These two are both crying over their dead spouses

This is awkward

Okay so we're back with the world's strongest couple and Carlos is pissed

Also it goes without saying that Ronen's acting has been terrible in every single scene, but I think I'm becoming weirdly desensitised to it

Carlos did not cook dinner for TK and he is giving him the cold shoulder

These two cannot even talk to each other?????????

Like… communication. It's genuinely a thing that people in healthy relationships do

I can't even really be on Carlos' side right now because TK hasn't done anything wrong? All this jealousy is coming from the fact that there's some other guy in TK's life that he's talking to, and Carlos is… being very petty about it

That is not healthy behaviour

This whole thing is so passive aggressive. Just fucking talk to each other? You're in a relationship together; you live together – just fucking have a conversation?

Jesus fucking Christ the contrived drama on this show drives me nuts

Okay so Carlos is pissed that TK won't open up to him and is instead relying on Cooper, who TK has now made the point of saying is straight

"It feels like he's getting pieces of you that I don't" see this is worrisome to me

And TK says "you don't want those pieces" which like… fuck. I can kind of understand

I'm not on Carlos' side in this fight you guys fuck

Okay so listen Ronen is a terrible fucking actor in this whole scene

And having to explain to the guy you're in a long term relationship with that like… you need people who have also experienced addiction to talk to, because they understand what you're going through better than people who have never experienced addiction

Carlos is acting irrationally jealous and TK has really given him no reason to worry. Ugh am I defending TK?? fuccckkkkk

Have they eased up on the LS filter this season? I think they have; this show is definitely not as brown anymore

33 minutes and we finally have another emergency

Now the world's most solid couple are looking at old photos, and TK is crying about his mother, and he blew off a meeting

Owen is having a go at Amy Acker about liking older men and he's being a total dick about it

Dump him, Amy Acker. Please, for the love of god, fucking dump him

Owen is breaking up with her??? The fuck?

OH SHIT IT WAS A SWITCH

Amy Acker's ex-husband is a bona fide hottie, the other guy was his father

Owen's just acted like a total dick. Maybe she will dump him? Those were his true colours, after all

SHE'S DUMPING HIMMMMMMMMM

YESSSSSS SHE DUMPED HIM!!!

Okay so now Carlos is pulling TK out of his depression funk and he invited the infamous Cooper over for dinner

And Carlos is doing the trustworthy, gentlemanly thing and leaving them to talk alone

And the world's most solid couple lives to see another day

Honestly... I don't even really know what to say. Carlos kind of acted like a dick in this episode? A jealous dick. I can't even say that this was a problem they overcame together - they never even really resolved it. Carlos just invited Cooper over for dinner and that's that.

This storyline will most likely be completely forgotten so why even bother trying to dissect it

Eddie Diaz to see us out:

[themculibrary]

Bucky And Clint (Winterhawk) Masterlist 4

part one, part two, part three

5 Times Clint Barton Kissed Bucky Barnes and 1 Time Bucky Returned the Favour (ao3) - mariana_oconnor G, 13k

Summary: The first kiss is fired like a warning shot, it leaves Bucky reeling, but he still isn't prepared for what comes next.

Bucky Barnes is not used to people touching him, so when one of his new team mates starts crossing the barriers that seem to have been erected around him, he's not sure how to react. Add in skrulls, an alternate universe and possibly the end of the world (again) and it turns out nothing is as complicated as he thinks it is. Sometimes you just have to trust yourself.

A Brick Is Not A Wall (ao3) - Ladyladylady T, 33k

Summary: Mornings at the Barton Farm were always hectic. Today, however, the house felt downright frantic. As was becoming more and more typical, Clint was away on a mission. It wasn’t just the lack of Daddy to help out with the morning rush, it was Clint being gone. Even though he knew that Nat watched his back and that Clint was an incredibly competent agent, it made him nervous. And when Poppa was nervous, the kids felt it too. Thus, they had all piled into the big bed in Bucky and Clint’s room last night, just like old times. And, in true Barton Family fashion, no one set their alarm. So here they all were, shouting (Cooper and Nate), hopping over each other (Pietro), vying for bathroom time (Wanda and Lila) and packing backpacks (Bucky) while Lucky dog danced around them, excited.

A mostly a slice of life style fic as Bucky catches Steve up on his life from the last eleven years through flashbacks as he rebuilds his family and his identity from the ground up.

A Chance Encounter (ao3) - pherryt G, 7k

Summary: Clint's on a vacation against his will. Alone.

What could go wrong?

a day of fun with bucky and clint (ao3) - samandbucky G, 2k

Summary: Steve thinks Bucky should socialize more, which somehow leads to Clint dragging Bucky out of the tower for a shopping trip.

angels warned me never to fall down (ao3) - hawksonfire E, 8k

Summary: “What’s got steam coming out of your ears?” Bucky asks, scootching closer on the couch. His toes are tucked under Clint’s thigh now, which is unfairly distracting.

“Just thinking,” Clint answers, taking another sip of his coffee.

“About what?”

“You,” Clint’s mouth answers with no input from his brain, and goddammit mouth, not again. He winces.

blondie (ao3) - luckybxrnes T, 188k

Summary: when james buchanan barnes and clint barton meet for the first time, it ends with clint in a dumpster and a broken hearing aid.

maybe it wasn't his best idea to yell at another assassian and try to fight him on a rooftop.

eight years later, clint is a little smarter and james is trying his best to be okay.

Bruises on My Skin (ao3) - pherryt T, 8k

Summary: When you get unexplained bruises appearing on your skin, you're one of the rare few to have found your soulmate. What happens to them, is echoed on you to a lesser degree - but usually it doesn't happen till you're much older.

Clint's first bruise appeared when he was five. He didn't feel so lucky.

coffee shop regulars (not so regular) (ao3) - samandbucky T, 2k

Summary: Clint comes into Sam and Bucky's coffee shop every week. He's a regular customer known as Hot Guy between Sam and Bucky. Bucky's got a major crush on him (but refuses to ask him out) and Sam loves to tease him about it.

Bucky also finds out that Clint isn't exactly who he says he is (or isn't).

Complications (ao3) - flawedamythyst E, 84k

Summary: Clint's got a plan to retire and go find himself a simple life at his family's old farm. Simple is good, right? Easy to remember. Simple is why he doesn't really mind that his soul-print has never activated, because a soulmate could only add another layer of complexity to his life.

And then the Winter Soldier turns up at his archery range on the Avengers base, and simple slips through Clint's fingers.

Post Age-of-Ultron (minus Clint's wife&kids) Soulmate AU.

Friends to Lovers And All The Dumb Ass Decisions In-between (ao3) - CaptainJimothyCarter E, 10k

Summary: Clint absolutely hates his English teacher for making him write letters to some kid in Brooklyn thanks to this ridiculous pen pal program she's making them all do. Things aren't so bad when he learns about his pen pal and how he finds it easy to talk to him.

Things aren't going so great in Clint's life in between bouncing around in foster homes, finally being reunited with Barney after the system tore them apart, and heavy depressive episodes.

He finds comfort in Bucky and his quick wit and awkward flirts.

Great Unknown. (ao3) - ClaraxBarton T, 3k

Summary: Smugglers and dragons and karaoke and space. Oh my.

That's it. That's the summary. Enjoy or suffer at your will.

half a latte and not a care in the world (ao3) - shatteredhourglass M, 7k

Summary: Clint's starting to run out of luck. A story about a coffeeshop, a morning radio show, an engagement and Bucky's first attempts at seducing the local barista, who's a little tragic but ultimately worth the effort.

if god is in the lens (ao3) - shatteredhourglass E, 40k

Summary: The Asset pauses. He remembers the first few days after dragging St- dragging Captain America out of the water, the aimless emptiness that had filled him, with no mission and no knowledge of what to do next. He’d spent a week staring at the peeling wallpaper in a motel. There had been butterflies patterned on it. He hadn’t known what direction to go in next, because he was (is) scared of Captain America, and he didn’t want anything to do with Hydra, and he’d just… stopped. That’s when he realizes Barton isn’t going to move unless he gives the man a reason to move, something to do that isn’t related to a past he can’t remember or the threat of imminent death. (It’s been burned out of him, the Asset can relate.)

A mission.

He's leaning on the button to the microphone before he thinks about it. ��Come with me and you can kill more of them.”

It's Complicated (ao3) - samandbucky

Summary: Clint has never been one to believe in "soulmates", until he finally meets his.

One Last Chain (ao3) - AvaKelly M, 29k

Summary: After jumping off a cliff, Clint is offered a second chance. His first thought: kidnap the Winter Soldier.

The Best Worst Thing (that hasn't happened to you yet) (ao3) - sara_holmes M, 48k

Summary: Clint Barton likes to think that in his twenty-seven years he’s grown and matured and has learned how to work effectively with a team. However, twenty-seven years is not enough time to learn to be comfortable with Bucky goddamn Barnes.

The Holy Falls (ao3) - GreyishBlue T, 7k

Summary: Clint is tired of waiting for Barney in their shitty motel room. He's just gonna go get a few beers, stretch his legs, and not get into any trouble.

It'll be fine.

Worth Waiting For (ao3) - Lissadiane M, 31k

Summary: Clint Barton is an angry 15-year-old former circus brat with a whole bunch of grudges when he's sent to live with Coulson and Fury on a tiny farm in the middle of the country, and he has every intention of stealing the silverware and taking off to whatever prison they're keeping his brother in as soon as humanly possible. He's got no time for three meals a day, for shoes without holes in them, for making friends with cows or goats or stray dogs, or friends and found families.

A Green Gables AU.

[sneezyminniejo]

hey! can i request a taehyung snz fic where he has a really sensitive nose and even the smallest things can set him off into a desperate rapid fit? one day the members bought some strongly scented candles without knowing that his nose was sensitive and they set him off into a massive fit, the members are his caretakers! i’d really appreciate it :)

Here it is, hope you enjoy

Bothersome Candles and Caretaking

The members of BTS have been together for years. Even though they’ve lived together for almost a decade, there were still some things they didn’t know about each other. One such thing is that Taehyung has a very sensitive nose.

Sure , the other members know that he’s one of the sneezier members in the group, but they didn’t know that strong scents or a simple brush of a feather could throw him into a fairly intense fit.

It just never came up with the other members. Jungkook made it very clear when he moved in that he hates strong scents and made it even more clear the one time Yoongi came back to the dorm smelling like a bonfire after hanging out with some friends. The maknae pretty much refused to be in the same room as the older until he showered, so the others agreed to avoid any strong scents to please their maknae and to keep peace in the dorm. Taehyung actually hadn’t been present for that incident because he was with some school mates working on a class project.

However, that was early on in trainee days. It was a wonder that there hadn’t even been a small incident to set Taehyung off, but there's a first time for everything.

The seven members of BTS were enjoying a day off after their manager took the keys to their studios to make sure they didn’t work. Taehyung decided to venture to the Han river to take some pictures, while the others decided to do some shopping. It was the middle of the week, so there weren’t many people around, allowing Taehyung to fully take in the surrounding nature.

Taehyung decided to turn around and head back to the dorm when his camera ran out of battery. He hummed happily to himself, excited to show the pictures to everyone else after he loaded them onto his computer.

When Taehyung first entered the dorm, he didn’t really notice anything. However, as soon as he closed the door, his nose was overcome with an intense prickle. He did his best to hold it back, but ultimately failed, as he doubled over with a very loud double.

“HEH-ISHH, HIH-STIESSH” Taehyung sniffled a bit confusedly as he tried to figure out where those sneezes came from.

Everyone else was seated in the living room watching tv when Taehyung had unintentionally made his presence known. “Bless you Tae.” Namjoon said as soon as he fully entered the room. “Tha-thanks, hyu- Hih-itschh hyung” Taehyung sat down next to Jungkook and tried to ignore the still present iitch in his sinuses, still not really knowing why he was suddenly so sneezy.

The other members looked at the second youngest with mild concern on their faces, but Taehyung ignored it. Before one of the others could speak, Taehyungg asked, “So how was your shopping trip?” Taehyung sniffled again before leaning over and grabbing some tissues from the box on the coffee table and blowing his nose.

Jimin was the one to answer Taehyung’s question first. “It went really well actually. Hyungs bought new clothes and found some new headphones and some other things. I bought a lego set to bui-” “Hih-tschhhh” Taehyung motioned for Jimin to continue as he blew his nose again.

“Anyway I found a lego set to build and Jungkookie found a couple of scented candles that he doesn’t find repulsive, so we bought him a couple of those.”

Taehyung’s felt the itch in his sinuses increase as Jimin and Jungkook told him all about the candle they had found. He was glad that Jungkook had found candles that didn’t bother his sensitive sense of smell, but unfortunately for Taehyung, he was extremely sensitive to the concentrated scents in the candle regardless of the scent.

His sensitivity was so bad that the candles didn’t necessarily even need to be lit, that is if there were enough of them. Jungkook then excitedly pulled the five he had purchased out of the shopping bag that was lying at his feet and gestured to the far corner of the room where one of the candles sat lit with a tine flame flickering ever so slightly.

Taehyung really didn’t want to disappoint Jungkook, so he decided to try to will his body to cooperate into not becoming a sneezy sniffly mess for as long as possible and not concern everybody too much. Unfortunately for Taehyung, his nose was not going to do what his brain wanted, and he wound up pitching forward in another double. This time the tickle had excalted so quickly that he hadn’t had time to cover.

Before he could lift his head up, Taehyung felt someone press tissues to his face. “Blow” He recognized Yoongi’s voice and immediately complied, although he took the tissues from his hyung first. He didn’t really want to blow his nose into his hyung’s hand if he could avoid it.

As soon as he lifted his head up, he was met with five pairs of concerned eyes and a hand on his forehead. “Tae-ah” Yoongi said softly, “Are you feeling okay? You don’t feel like you have a fever, but you are incredibly sneezy today even for you.”

Taehyung really didn’t feel like telling the truth about why he was so sneezy, so he just muttered something about how he must have caught a cold. The others nodded, but some of his hyungs looked like they didn’t fully believe him.

By the time Seokjin got up to make lunch, Taehyung's condition hadn't improved any. In fact, it might have deteriorated a bit. Jungkook however, was still really excited about his new scented candles.

He was so excited that, almost as if he were four, he shoved one of the unlit candles in Taehyung's face so he could smell it. Jungkook was so fast that Taehyung didn't have any time to decline or protest. The next thing Taehyung knows is he's taking in a whiff of concentrated artificial cherry blossoms. Taehyung, not wanting to sneeze all over his only dongsaeng, quickly pushed him hard to get him out of the way.

Jungkook was pushed off the couch and he landed hard on his buttocks. Namjoon was going to lecture Taehyung about his behavior, but what occurred next stunned everyone.

"Heh-ugh, ischh, heh-stishhh, heh-istiew, heh-istchhh, HIH-TIEW, HIH-NXTSHH, HEH-STISHHH, HEH-ISTIEW, HUH-UGHIEW!!” Taehyung’s ears and cheeks turned bright red as he held his hand over his dripping nose. Hoseok plucked several tissues from the box and handed them to Taehyung. Hoseok gave the younger a look as he cleaned himself up.

“Taehyung,” Hoseok was using his no nonsense voice when he was backing up Namjoon with various decisions. “Based on that display I don’t think you’re really sick, are you?” Taehyung shook his head as he sneezed another two times into the pile of tissues in his hand. He grabbed some more tissues and blew his nose rather productively, then started speaking.

“Hobi-hyung is right, I’m not sick. It’s the c-ca-candles itschhh.” Right after Taehyung said that, Jimin got up and blew out the lit candle that was on the opposite end of the room, while Jungkook immediately gathered up the candles in front of him and moved them to his room. Seokjin returned to the living room balancing a tray with seven bowls of soup and saw the guilty expressions on five of his dongsaengs. “What happened? He asked as he handed out the bowls.

“Taehyung here apparently neglected to tell us that he’s allergic to scented candles.” Yoongi said with slight annoyance laced in his voice. Seokjin just stared blankly for a moment. “How did we not know this? We’ve lived together for like a decade.” Taehyung sighed and sniffled before answering.

“It’s not so much an allergy as it is that my nose is extremely sensitive to scents and other things.” Taehyung paused to sneeze a quick double into his fist. “I have the same reaction to strong perfumes and laundry detergent. I’d also have a similar reaction if you tried to tickle my nose with a feather.” Jungkook returned a couple moments later, still looking extremely guilty.

“That still doesn’t explain why we never knew this Tae.” Taehyung grinned a little at the statement. “Well Jungkookie generally hates strong scents. Since we had collectively decided to only use scents that don’t bother him, it never came up, because the scents that didn’t bother him also didn’t bother me. At least not until now.”

Jungkook still looked a bit guilty and apologized to his hyung, who just assured him that he did nothing wrong as he didn’t know. The seven members ate in relative silence aside from the occasional sniffling or sneezing from Taehyung. Once they were all done eating, Taehyung stood up and moved to start collecting the dishes as it was his turn to clean them.

Namjoon placed his hand on the younger and gently pushed him back down. “Tae-ah, you are going to go straight to the couch and relax for the night.” Taehyung began to protest but was quickly interrupted by Yoongi.

“Tae, you may not be sick, but all of the sneezing you’ve done today must have exhausted you. I know that it’s your turn to do the dishes, but let hyungs take care of you so you can recover more easily.” Taehyung sighed and went to the living room, not having enough energy to fight Yoongi on this.

A little while after getting comfy on the couch, Hoseok came in with two mugs of hot cocoa and handed one to Taehyung. “Jungkook is setting up the humidifier in your room and Jimin is putting more pillows on your bed so you can sleep in more of an incline.” Taehyung hummed in acknowledgement before sipping at his beverage. “Namjoon is also pushing your vocal lessons and recording to the end of the week, so your voice can recover from all the scream sneezes you’ve been doing today.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but chuckle at the new bit of information. He settled further into his spot on the couch and waited for the others to arrive before starting a movie. Taehyung took a couple of pictures of the mugs of hot cocoa and the movie, then posted them to twitter with the caption ‘Movie night with hyungs and Jungkookie’. He then settled into whoever sat beside him and eventually drifted off with the movie playing in the background.

[oboevallis]

runaway

hey it’s been a hot minute, not really sure what this is ive have it in my drafts for a while, but i feel like everyone’s written this 😂 but i wanted to post something at least also ‘who is he?’ part 4 will be coming out soon hope everyone’s doing well

“It’s always been her, hasn’t it?” Amelia’s voice wavered as she struggled to keep her composure.

“I didn’t sleep with her!” Link exclaimed, slurring his words. “I just stayed with her.”

“Whenever something goes wrong between us you always go running to Jo. Just get it over with and fuck her already! She’ll be all the things I’m not.”

“You have no right to be mad. I poured my heart out to you, I’ve been planning for months on proposing to you. I love you Amelia Shepherd, but your so damn self destructive you’re ruining this for the both of us. I’ve done everything you’ve wanted this is just one thing I wanted. If anything I should be mad, but I’m being the bigger person.”

“You’re being the bigger person?” Amelia chuckled in disbelief. “Talk to me again when you’re sober.”

“Who said I wasn’t sober?”

“Please, part of Jo’s help sessions always result in the two of you downing a bottle of whiskey, which is an incredibly unhealthy coping mechanism.” As she said this she was aggressively packing her clothes in a suitcase.

“Not everyone’s a fucking alcoholic. Not everyone has to sit an a room with fucked up strangers complaining about their lives, when they did that to themselves.”

“You think I wanted to be snorting oxy off of the reception desk of a medical practice while I’ll my friends watched? Or stealing my brothers car and crashing it trying to find drugs? I thought you were different but you’re just like Owen.” That’s the last thing she said before walking into their sons nursery and scooping with up.

“You can’t take Scout.”

“I can because you’re drunk out of your mind, I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Amelia yelled before slamming the door behind her. She fought to get the baby in his car seat, she couldn’t seem to catch a break. She needed to get away, she needed to go back to her original refuge.

“Come on Scout, can we cooperate for mommy?” Amelia begged, fighting off tears as her son kicked and screamed. Despite being a movement baby he hated the car, specifically the car seat since no one could hold him. Eventually the baby was secured, and he quickly fell asleep, as he realized how he exhausted himself after his tantrum. Three hours into the drive Amelia immediately started to regret this, it was a 17 hour drive, and she was doing it alone with a baby who just barely turned one. No, she was doing this, she needed to. She’d be sure to take as many breaks as she needed. This was what needed to be done for her and her sons well-being.

After two hotel visits and countless stops along I-5 S she found herself in LA standing outside her sisters door, but couldn’t bring herself to knock. She knew Addison loved her but she couldn’t help already feeling the subtle condescension. ‘How have you already managed to screw this up?’ ‘I love you Amy, I do, but isn’t this a little extreme?’ ‘You’re clean, right? Because I’ll take you back right this minute’

Quickly she turned around to go back to her car to think about her next game plan before a voice stopped her.

“Amy?” Amelia jerked back around to be met with Addison’s confused yet comforting smile.

“Umm I’m vaccinated, but I got tested if that makes you more comfortable. I’m negative I-I just needed to get put of Seattle.”

“I know the feeling.” The older woman chuckled holding the door open wider to allow the two to come in. “Now let me hold my new nephew!” She squealed as she held her arms out for the baby, soaking in his tiny stature. “I miss when Henry was this little.”

“Where is the little guy? It’s awfully quiet.”

“They went camping, Henry’s been stir crazy for over a year and it seemed safe enough for the two to go away.”

“I’m sure Jake was thrilled.” Amelia smirked thinking back to the time the practice went on a camping trip together and Jake had almost refused to go hence his disdain for the wilderness.

“You know it.” Addison joked along, playing with the baby’s tiny fingers. The older woman then lead the way back onto the deck and settled on a lounge chair under an umbrella. Amelia followed behind and took out sunscreen from the diaper bag she was sure to pick up once they got to LA. “He’s absolutely adorable Amelia.”

“Thanks.” Amelia smiled as she lathered the baby’s extremities with sunscreen.

“Gosh i just want to eat him up.” Addison pretended to bite into him, causing the baby to shriek with laughter. Cracking the first genuine smile the neurosurgeon had since after Maggie’s wedding. “You know I was talking to Charlotte a little while ago and she mentioned she was going to go to a meeting if you want to go meet up with her, she still goes to the one near the pier.”

“Thank you, Addison.” It now felt silly to have been scared to talk to Addison, she always knew how to help the neurosurgeon. “Are you sure you’re okay to watch him?”

“More than okay.” Addison beamed, running her hand through the baby’s hair. “And even if you stayed I still wouldn’t let this little guy go.”

“I love you Addie.”

“Love you too Amy.” Addison assured as the woman walked out to her car, it’d be a lie if she said she wasn’t worried for her little sister. But she was reaching out for help, she wasn’t sure what the issue was but she was immensely proud she came to her and not a baggie of pills.

_______________________________________

“Don’t you think you should call her?” Jo asked as she prepared a bottle for Luna.

“No.” Link coldly said, cradling the baby in his arms.

“At least for Scout’s sake?”

“He’s fine, looking back Amelias made it very clear she’s the only parent that matters or gets a say.” Link bitterly replied.

“I’m sure it isn’t like that.” As much as she loved her dear friend, he couldn’t see where he also went wrong in this situation. “She loves you.”

“Not enough to marry me.”

“She isn’t ready.”

“Her and Hunt were off and on, and she accepted his proposal.”

“First off she had a brain tumor, and because of said brain tumor she impulsively asked him to marry her. She thinks clearly now, and I think she just wants it to work out and be right.” Jo turned around and sighed as she saw her friends annoyed look. “You’ve never been a marriage guy, where is this even coming from?”

“I don’t know it just feels right, i don’t want to lose her.”

“Your gonna lose her if you push her into this.”

“I move mountains for her, I’ve adjusted my whole life for her. It’s just one thing, one thing that I want.”

“Link are you stupid? This isn’t fighting over what couch you get this determines the rest of your life. And marriage isn’t all that, it doesn’t keep a person there.” Jo sighed, since adopting Luna she’d been thinking a lot about her ex husband, and how stupid the concept of marriage was.

________________________________________

“Has he called?” Addison cautiously asked as Amelia fed her baby.

“Nope.” Amelia popped the ‘p’. “I get that he hates me now, but I thought he’d at least check in on Scout.”

“He’s just upset.”

“I know, I just thought he understood. He’s nothing like Owen but since we moved into his apartment I just feel suffocated like I did when we were married.”

“Have you tried talking to someone, professionally?” Addison inquired, leaning further back onto the beach chair.

“What so they can silently judge how I have a perfect life but still feel terrible?”

“Amy, you know a therapist isn’t going to think that, their there to help you without judgement.” She stared at the woman for awhile until she came to a realization. “After Scout was born you didn’t have any postpartum appointments did you?”

“No, the world had shut down a week after he was born.” Amelia confirmed.

“Do you think your having a delayed postpartum depression reaction? I mean you were thrown into taking care of a newborn and three other kids who aren’t yours in complete isolation . Then On top of that you didn’t have time to grieve Christopher. It’s difficult on women who have lost a child previously when they bring home a healthy baby.” Amelia held back her tears, as much as she tried to focus on scout she couldn’t help but feel broken over the fact Christopher didn’t have the opportunities scout has.

“Pre-covid a day wouldn’t go by that I didn’t think of Christopher. Then I just got so caught up in everything, and I’d barely think about him. I mean I almost forgot his birthday.”

“You can’t feel guilty about that.”

“I j-just wish Link would get that I don’t want another baby.I mean he’s ten times more understanding than Owen was about my grief but, I just don’t want another baby.”

“You’re allowed to not want another baby, but do you think it has to do with Christopher?”

“I don’t think so, I just can’t love yet another person without losing myself. It feels like I already have, I don’t recognize anything about me. Surgery doesn’t even give me the thrill it use to.” The older women sat up and placed a reassuring hand on the younger ones knee.

“I’m gonna talk to Violet and have her refer someone to you. Then you’re gonna talk to Link and come up with a game plan. And I’m gonna be right here the whole time, you’re my family. Everyone here is your family we’ve got you.”

[izzielizzie]

Now I’ve Seen You I’ve Seen It All Chapter One

okay so this ask inspired me so am i writing a ten chapter nateywn parent trap au? yes. Is the first chapter under the cut? also yes 

“Okay honey,” Bronwyn Rojas says as she puts her hands on her daughter Ellen’s shoulders. “You’ve got everything you need right?”

Ellen nods.

“Toothbrush?”

Ellen nods again.

“All your clothes? Shampoo? Hair brush? Retainers?” 

Ellen nods again, four times, and wiggles a little in her mother’s grip. Twelve year old Ellen Rojas has never spent more than a week out of her mother’s sights, and this two month camp is testing both of them.

Bronwyn looks like she’s about to cry. “Are you sure you don’t want me to look over your things one more time?”

Ellen sighs and considers the best way to tell her mother it is time for her to leave. Thankfully she doesn’t have to. A slender woman with dark hair and expressive amber eyes practically materializes in front of Ellen and Bronwyn. Maeve Santos.

Maeve, with her messy bun, face full of freckles, tattered Hodges Camp t-shirt, and denim shorts, looks absolutely nothing like her older sister Bronwyn. Until further examination. They carry themselves the same way, like they belong anywhere they happen to be, and their smiles are the same. It’s hard to tell since Bronwyn’s face is all lines and hardness, and Maeve’s is soft and open. But the smiles, well, they’re identical.

“Hey Bron,” Maeve says. She pulls her sister into a hug, taking care not to wrinkle Bronwyn’s suit. Bronwyn pats her sister’s back, her way of saying “okay enough hugging”. Maeve pulls away with a grin, and swings Ellen up into her arms. Maeve - and her husband Luis - don’t have any kids, so all their attention is directed to Ellen and their nephews on Luis’s side. But mostly Ellen. Ellen hugs her back with all her might.

“Hi Aunt Maeve,” Ellen says.

“Hey Ellen, ready for some fun!”

Ellen giggles and looks around the camp over her aunt’s shoulder. It’s a large camp, with seven cabins for campers: three for girls on one side of the path and three for boys on the other. The seventh can be seen peeking over the trees where the forest meets the large lake (Lake Hodges, where Aunt Maeve got the name for the camp). There’s a large center cabin, fittingly named the Big Cabin meals are served, the counselors congregate during off times, and one room is used as a games room, where Ellen knows air hockey tables and pool tables and foosball tables have been set up. Farther along the path is the arts and crafts cabin, then the nurse’s cabin. The grand finale before the dock and boat house is a large amphitheatre, where plays and concerts are held. 

Ellen’s never really seen the camp, not really, but she’s heard enough about it from her Aunt Maeve - the founder/head - to feel as if she’s greeting an old friend, the musky smells and bird chirps as familiar to Ellen as the brick buildings and sound of honking cars in New Haven is.

“More than ready,” Ellen assures her aunt. Maeve grins at her. 

“That’s my girl - whoa be careful!”

The last warning isn’t for Ellen, but for the person who swings Ellen high up into the air out of her aunt’s arms. She doesn’t even have to look to know it’s Uncle Luis. Ellen turns the moment she’s on solid ground to give her uncle a hug. Bronwyn often compares Luis to a puppy: energetic, over joyous, and incredibly good at snuggling. She’s not wrong.

“Hey Bronwyn,” Luis says, hugging his sister in law. He doesn’t mind her suit. Bronwyn hugs him back for a moment before readjusting her jacket and looking around helplessly. 

“Are we sure this is a good idea? Maybe Ellen’s too young.”

“Mom, you said I could come when I turned twelve,” Ellen protests, trying very hard not to stomp her foot. It wouldn’t be proving her point.

“I know but-” Bronwyn waves her arms around. 

“We’re here, don't forget,” Maeve says.

“No offence Maeve but you left Ellen in a parking lot.” 

Maeve’s smile becomes a little strained. “That was ten years ago.”

“Still!”

Maeve sighs. “Cooper and Kris are here. Who’s more responsible than Cooper and Kris?”

This seems to calm Ellen’s mom. “Okay, okay, you’re right. That’s true. Alright then, Ellen darling, I think it’s time for me to go.”

If Maeve is hurt that Bronwyn trusts Cooper and Kris Becker-Clay more than her own sister, she doesn’t show it. She looks over Bronwyn’s shoulder as if looking for something. “Okay Bron you’ve got a plane to catch right?”

“Right, right okay.” Bronwyn reaches forward and pulls Ellen out of Luis’s arms, squeezing her tight. “Be good okay, sweetheart?”

“Okay. I will.” Ellen hugs her mother back until Maeve gently disentangles them. With a last kiss on Maeve’s cheek and on Ellen’s forehead, Bronwyn heads back over to her car, pulling away with a wave for the family she knows is watching. 

“Well Ellen darling, excited for camp?” Maeve asks as she takes Ellen’s hand, picking up her oversized duffle with the other hand, which she expertly tosses to her husband. He catches it. Ellen loves watching her aunt and uncle work together, since it’s always been her and her mother. Ellen’s never seen two adults who just fit. 

The trio don’t get far before a motorcycle comes roaring up the drive. They all turn to see what’s happening as a girl expertly jumps off the back of the motorcycle. She’s wearing white shorts and a black leather motorcycle jacket that matches the jacket of the man on the motorcycle. The girl pulls off her helmet to reveal long black hair. 

Maeve grins. “You two stay here, I’ll be right back.” Maeve scurries away to the biker before Luis and Ellen can follow. 

“What’s happening Uncle Luis?” Ellen asks, sliding her hand into her uncle’s hand. 

“No clue kiddo,” Luis answers, but based on the look on his face, he does indeed know. 

They watch as Maeve talks to the man on the motorcycle. Ellen’s too far away to see who he is, and before she can get a closer look he’s waving at the girl and backing down the path to the main road. Maeve and the girl are standing together. They watch the motorcycle until it’s out of sight. Maeve takes the girl’s hand, and the way she’s looking at her sends a flash of white hot jealousy through Ellen. That’s the way Maeve looks at her.

Maeve smiles when they approach Luis and Ellen. “Ali, this is my husband Luis.”

“Hey Ali,” Luis says.

“And this is my niece Ellen Rojas. Ellen, this is Ali Macauley.” 

What a stupid name Ellen almost says. Instead she just grunts. She’s not quite sure why, but she doesn’t like this girl in her Guinness band t-shirt and tattered shorts and red flip flops that - ugh - look a lot like Ellen’s. Ali’s glaring right back at Ellen. Clearly, she doesn’t like her either. 

“Wow, you guys look nearly identical,” Luis says as he looks between his niece and the newcomer with her oversized backpack.

“No we don’t,” Ali says dryly.

“Oh I agree,” Ellen says. “I would never wear a shirt advertising that tacky band.”

“Ellen,” Maeve says in her warning voice.

“At least I don’t dress like the next queen of England.”

Ellen huffs and looks down at her pressed skirt and matching jacket. Her mother picked it for her.

“Oh you wish you were the queen of En-”

“Okay how about cabin assignments!” Maeve says brightly. Ali looks up at Maeve like she’s the queen, and Ellen’s ready to sock her in the nose. 

Maeve looks down at her clipboard as if she can sense Ellen’s thoughts. “You’re both in cabin one. Fun!”

“No it’s not,” Ali mumbles. 

Maeve ignores her and takes her hand instead. “Okay, let’s get you to your cabin.” Maeve takes Ellen’s hand after tucking her clipboard under her arm, and kisses her husband’s cheek before setting off, chatting about the camp as she goes. 

“You’ve met Luis of course, he’s a chef in New York and he’s in charge of cooking and also outdoor activities like hikes and stuff like that. And our head of arts and crafts is Addy Prentiss, she’s a teacher and she and her wife Keely live in London, where Keely is a fashion designer or something like that I never understand. Cooper Becker-Clay - you probably know him from the Padres - he’s in charge of sports. His husband Kris is our onsite medic.” Maeve pauses to push open the cabin door. “And Knox Myers does all the theatre and music stuff - he’s a Broadway director. Phoebe Myers, his wife, is our counselor. Need anything, go to her.”

Ellen knows all of this, since the people Aunt Maeve is talking about have been in Ellen’s life since she was a baby, so this is clearly for Ali. This annoys Ellen more, since she wanted to tell Aunt Maeve about the boy she thought she was in love with who turned out to not be in love with her. Aunt Maeve is the kind of aunt who understands about confusing things like the heart. 

“Okay girls. Looks like you’re the first in here. Pick a bunk.”

“Top,” Ali says right as Ellen says the same thing. Both girls look at each other in surprise and scramble for the ladder. 

“Whoa, whoa, girls slow down!” Maeve calls as both girls try to climb up the ladder at the same time. Ali beats Ellen, who’s slowed by the skirt. Ali’s long hair gets in her way, so Ellen uses that chance to climb up the side of the ladder like she does on the fire escape of her building. She’s nearly at the top when she feels hands clamp around her waist and pull her off. 

“Aunt Maeve!” Ellen protests as she’s placed on solid ground. She watches as Maeve pulls Ali off the ladder too. 

“Don’t ‘Aunt Maeve’ me. Honestly what’s gotten into you two?”

“It’s her fault,” Ali says stubbornly, pointing at Ellen. 

“She’s the one who cheated!”

“How did I cheat Ellen?”

“You’re not wearing a skirt.”

Ali scoffs. 

“Both of you two stop it right now. Ali, you take that bunk -”

“Hey!” Ellen protests as Ali does a little happy hop.

“And Ellen, you take the one on the other wall.”

Ellen is in shock. Aunt Maeve has never ever chosen someone over her. Not even the time her cousin Matias wanted the last ice cream at his own birthday party and Maeve talked circles around him until he was so confused he forgot about the dessert. 

“Fine,” Ellen sighs as she crosses the wooden cabin to the bunk identical to the one Ali is triumphantly perched on.

“Good. Now let’s hope you two get along better in the morning.”

Unfortunately, that does not happen. 

The next morning, Ellen enters the Big Cabin with Aunt Maeve and Uncle Luis’s latest foster child, named Nick. Ellen and Nick get along fabulously, something that pleases her aunt and uncle to no end. Ali stalks in after her. Ellen noticed last night that Ali prefers to be alone. She refused to join in on the game of go fish their cabin mates were playing, and she ignored all talk about the cute boys at the camp and past crushes.

“I’m telling you Nick, she’s so stuck up. Like she’s too good for us or something,” Ellen says, continuing her conversation even though Ali is right behind her. 

“Maybe she’s just shy,” Nick says. Even though he has no blood relation to any of Ellen’s family members he still looks vaguely like Luis with his good looks and deep brown eyes.

Ellen scoffs. “She wasn’t shy when she stole my aunt.”

“Maeve isn’t stolen.”

“Right,” Ellen says skeptically as she hands Nick a tray. They’re entering the food line, and she graciously lets Nick before her. She ends up next to Ali, who’s glaring at Ellen. “Good morning sunshine,'' Ellen says pleasantly.

Ali glares harder as she takes a tray from the pile.

“Not a morning person huh?” Ellen asks.

“Say another word and I’ll knock your teeth out,” Ali threatens.

“Scary,” Ellen says dryly as they head down the line. She hesitates in front of the last pancake, weighing the pros and cons of grabbing it when Ali speaks up.

“Are you gonna stand there or are you gonna grab that?” She’s already reaching for the pancake in question.

“I was going to grab it,” Ellen lies, stabbing it with a fork as Ali does the same thing. They engage in a sort of food based tug-of-war. “Let go!”

“You let go!”

“I saw it first!”

“You were just mouth breathing on it!”

They both tug hard, and the pancakes crumble into two pieces. The momentum sends them flying. Ali crashes to the floor and Ellen stumbles back into Nick, who steadies her. 

“What kind of loser can’t keep their balance?” Ellen asks.

“Ellen, stop,” Luis says emerging from the kitchen. He’s looking half amused and half annoyed. “Ali, you okay?”

“Fine,” Ali snaps. “But your niece is annoying.”

Luis ignores her, and Nick gently tugs Ellen away.

Ellen sulks all the way to the crafts barn, where Addy Prentiss in all her pink haired glory is perched on a table in a pair of faded denim overalls. She hops off the table when the group arrives. 

“Alright guys, I thought we could start with bracelets today,” Addy says with her slight British accent, winking at Ellen, who glows. “So, find a table y’all, and let’s see what bracelets you come up with!”

Addy circles the room, and Ellen chooses a table with Cosette Myers, Nick, and - ugh - Ali. Ali pointedly ignores her, and Ellen choses to do the same, chatting with Cosette about the last musical her father Knox took her to. Ellen reaches for a bead at the same time as Ali, and their hands collide.

“Can you move?” Ali asks.

“You move!” Ellen protests.

“I just want a bead.”

“Then wait.”

“Why don’t you wait, princess?”

“Because I was first.”

Both girls glare at each other for a moment before reaching for the beads again, knocking into the container and sending the beads flying over the table and floor. Cosette and Nick jump back. Addy choses this moment to approach this table.

“Are you two kidding me?” she asks, irritated.

“It's Ellen's fault!”

“It was not Aunt Addy, it was Ali!”

Addy looks between the identical looking girls and huffs. “Pick them up.”

“What?” Ellen asks.

“El, you heard me.”

Ellen glares halfheartedly at Ali as she sinks to the floor to pick up the scattered pea sized beads.

Cosette and Nick slide to the floor to help as Ali starts on her side of the table.

“She’s a monster,” Ellen hisses. Cosette and Nick exchange glances.

Twenty minutes later, the girls find themselves near the lake, lined up next to Cooper Becker-Clay, who’s teaching the finer details of the ever important sport of wiffle ball. 

“Okay guys,” he says, pulling off his baseball hat and running his hand through his sandy hair. “I need some volunteers please.” His blue eyes roves the crowd of excitable preteens and lands on Ellen and Ali, who are both glaring at each other while pretending the other person doesn’t exist.

“Ellen. Ali. What about you two?”

Ellen shrugs, and Ali scoffs. “You’re choosing the person who wears skirts?”

“But she’s… not wearing a skirt,” Cooper says, looking a little confused. It’s true, Ellen is wearing a camp shirt tucked into a pair of shorts. 

“Ignore her, she’s being weird,” Ellen says, stepping forward. Ali glares. Cooper shakes his head as if straightening out his thoughts.

“Okay. Ali, take the bat and stand on the base. Just like that, yeah. And Ellen, come here. Okay guys pay attention. Ellen’s going to put her left foot forward since that’s her non-dominant side, and she’ll pull her right arm back and yeah - no Ellen wait!”

Ellen, after being raised with both Uncle Luis and Uncle Cooper, knows exactly how to aim a perfect fastball. And, being her mother’s daughter, she’s able to figure out how to compensate for the lighter ball - flicking her wrist just so - until her pitch is perfectly aimed straight for Ali’s nose. Ali, who isn’t expecting this, doesn’t swing and instead stands still as the ball comes flying towards her nose with a sickening crack. 

And, being Addy’s goddaughter, Ellen knows how to act too. “Oh my gosh Ali I’m so sorry,” she cries, sounding incredibly believable as she sprints after Cooper towards Ali, who’s got her hand pressed against her nose. “Uncle Cooper, really, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to.”

Cooper looks between Ali, Ellen, and the other campers who look gleeful - they were expecting to make friendship bracelets and sing weird songs at camp, not see the greatest feud of their adolescent lives. 

“It’s fine El. Take Ali to Uncle Kris okay?”

“Okay, oh my gosh I feel so bad.”

Cooper, of course, being both not an idiot and the father of triplet girls, knows Ellen isn’t sorry in the slightest, but he lets her lead Ali to Kris’s med cabin. 

Once at the cabin, Ellen considers leaving Ali when Kris calls her in. 

“Hey Uncle Kris,” Ellen says as Kris lifts Ali onto a bed in the cabin lined with beds. Kris raises one perfectly arched eyebrow, his green eyes roving over Ellen’s face.

“Hello Ellen. How are we today, girls?”

Kris takes one look between the girl he’s known since she was born and the identical looking girl on the bed and knows exactly what happened.

“Fine,” Ellen says.

Ali mumbles something, and Kris pulls her hand from her nose. He touches it gently. 

“Well Miss Macauley, it’s not broken, just sore.” Kris looks over Ali’s face and notices a small cut, which he instantly starts cleaning.

“You know one of the wonderful things about camp is the ability to make new friends, right girls?” Kris asks, looking pointedly at Ellen.

“Yes sir,” Ellen says. Ali mumbles again.

“You know some friendships last a lifetime.”

“Yes sir.”

“It’s important to be open to new friendships too.”

“Yes sir.”

Kris laughs as he lifts Ali off the bed, her cut freshly bandaged and a wax wrapped caramel slipped into her hand. “Yes sir, yes sir. You’re not listening to a word I’m saying are you?”

“Yes sir,” Ellen repeats with a grin. Kris grins right back and hands her a caramel too.

“Okay, be good you two.”

“Yes sir!” Ali calls as she skips out of the cab. Kris shakes his head as he watches the girls go. He knows that’s not going to happen.

And it doesn’t. Their next class is theatre with Knox, where they’re putting on a production of the Wizard of Oz. 

“Alright guys, I have the cast list for you.” Knox rattles off names and assignments: Cosette is the Wicked Witch of the East, and Nick is the Cowardly Lion. “Ellen Rojas and Ali Macauley, you guys are Munchkins.”

“How come I’m a Munchkin when I’m taller than Ellen?” Ali asks, her voice a little warped because of her swollen nose.

“Am not!” Ellen protests.

“Are too!”

Cosette and Nick roll their eyes at each other and Knox sighs.

“Girls, girls, you two are identical if you haven’t realized.”

Both girls stop their squabbling to stare at Knox. They look at each other, studying one another.

“No way,” Ali says. 

“Agreed,” Ellen says.

“I’m way better looking than Ellen.”

“Excuse you! You look like you’re gonna sell drugs on the street in high school.”

Ali opens her mouth in shock as Knox startles and begins to reprimand Ellen. “Ellen Maeve Rojas you can not say things like tha-”

“TAKE THAT BACK!” Ali interrupts with a shout, lunging at Ellen. Ellen maintains her ground, and pushes back, aiming a punch at Ali’s already injured nose. Ali, being an inch taller in her Docs, gains the upper hand as she rolls on top of Ellen and is about to punch her nose when another person arrives in the amphitheater.

“Hey Knox I’ve got that box of props you wanted and Ali what in the world are you doing?”

Everyone turns to Maeve Santos carrying an old cardboard box under one arm. She’s in mom jeans and a Bayview High t-shirt today, a bandana covering her hair, and right now, she’s fuming. 

“She called me a future drug dealer!” Ali points at Ellen. “I was defending myself!”

“She started it!” Ellen protests, pushing Ali off her and sitting up. 

“No I didn’t, you started it!”

Maeve watches with pursed lips. Knox, having known Maeve for years, steps back. He knows an angry Maeve when he sees one.

“Both of you, come one, you’re moving to cabin seven.”

“Cabin seven?” Ellen repeats incredulously. “There are spiders and bugs and pests and stuff there!”

“And? You’re being a pest. Both of you. I’m disappointed in you. So you’re living together until you learn to get along.”

Her voice is calm, conversational almost, but her amber eyes are flashing dangerously. This is a Maeve you don’t cross. 

Sadly, Ellen doesn’t always have common sense.

“My mom won’t like that,” she says.

“Your mother is a…” Maeve stops, taking a deep breath to compose herself, and for a moment, both Ellen and Ali are actually scared. Ellen’s heard about the Aunt Maeve of yesteryears, the one who pushed people away and lashed out when hurting or scared because she never knew how to accept love. Bronwyn says Maeve used to be different, and Ellen can see what she meant. 

Ali and Ellen glance at each other, and they come to an understanding: they don’t need to talk to one another, or even acknowledge each other’s presence in Cabin Seven. But Maeve Santos should not be angered. 

“We’ll get our stuff,” Ali mumbles for the both of them.

“Good,” Maeve says.

“Off to the isolation cabin?” Knox teases. Maeve turns her glare to him, and he steps back.

“Forget I said anything.”

[youreacowgirllikeme]

After Class

note: so, I wasn’t really able to get that image of Jake as a college/university professor out of my head and this kind of happened, idk if it qualifies as an AU but anyway, here is Professor!Jake for you

(sorry for the grammar, non-native speaker here)

warnings: professor-student relationship, swearing, smut (fingering, oral), nsfw

“Shit, shit , shit.”

You ran through the empty hallways towards the lecture hall, the old clock on the wall telling you what you already knew: you were late, almost 20 minutes. And just because you overslept after working on that essay for your political history class till 4 am last night.

Professor Tapper would be so mad, he absolutely hated unpunctuality. Just the thought of him being angry or disappointed with you made you quicken your step even more, because Jacob Tapper was the very man you desperately tried to impress more than anyone else.

He usually worked as the lead political correspondent for CNN down in Washington DC, but, as he stated at the start of his first lecture, decided to take a sabbatical after the 2020 election, using the time to teach at his alma mater as a guest Professor.

He was brilliant, a walking history encyclopedia and was considered to be one of the sharpest political minds of the generation. His lectures were the perfect mix of both of those subjects, and he was throwing in a lot of his journalistic expertise as well. You admired him and truly enjoyed having him as your Professor. And you would’ve loved nothing more than to take in every single brilliant thing he said. But there was one tiny problem.

Because above all, he was hot. Like, please-bend-me-over-your-desk-after-class-hot. That very fact was often making it incredibly hard for you to pay attention to what he was saying, so you spent your lessons staring at his back, his hands, his face from the last row, letting his deep, smooth voice wash over you.

Even if he was more than 20 years older than you, you really had it bad for him, which was one of the reasons you lost sleep every night. That, and his very demanding curriculum.

Out of breath, you finally arrived at the doors of the lecture hall, opening them as quietly as possible, trying to sneak into the room without anyone taking notice of you.

“How nice of you to finally join us, Ms. Y/L/N“

Shit. He had noticed you.

And as you looked to where he was standing in front of the class you could see a deep frown on his handsome face.

He was, as usually, impeccably dressed, wearing a dark blue suit and his glasses, which were a personal weakness of yours.

It took a small cough from one of your classmates for you to stop staring at Professor Tapper and actually addressing him instead of undressing him with your eyes.

“I am so sorry for being late, Sir, it certainly won’t happen again.“ you stammered, feeling like you might faint from the embarrassment of the situation.

"I will certainly hold you to that. Still, come and see me after class to discuss this, please.“ he said, his stern voice and intense stare making your heart almost burst out of your chest.

He turned to the blackboard again, continuing to talk about McCarthyism, his deep voice carrying effortlessly through the lecture hall.

You were still beyond embarrassed that he called you out like that, and even more so because it was very likely that he caught you staring at him. You hastily made your way to the nearest free seat, fortunately this was a Dartmouth senior class and not Highschool, so there were no snickers or silly comments, you didn’t draw much attention.

You spent the remainder of the lesson trying to focus on the actual topic instead of how broad your professors shoulders looked in that tailored suit jacket, or how perfectly styled his grey hair was. Unsurprisingly, you had no success as your mind wandered even further down the dangerous path of attraction you had for Professor Tapper, thinking about the things those long, elegant fingers holding the chalk could do to you or what dirty words he could whisper against your skin with this sinful voice of his.

You were so caught up in your inappropriate daydreaming that you totally missed your Professor ending the lecture and dismissing your classmates.

You heard your name being called, and looked up, startled. Professor Tapper was standing right in front of your desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, staring down at you with an unreadable expression.

“We definetly need to talk about your attitude regarding this class, Ms. Y/L/N. Not only have you been late for the fourth time this month, your participation is severely lacking, to put it mildly. I...I don’t get it.” He said, his voice staring to get louder. He ran his hand through his hair, looking exasperated.

“Your submitted papers are extraordinarily good, your analysis is always spot on, and you find a way of comprehending the topics that no one of your classmates seem to grasp. And yet you spend each one of my lessons not paying attention, you’re not able to awnser any questions and you never partake in discussions. What is the matter? Am I boring you?“

He grew more agitated with each sentence, now leaning onto your desk with both arms and staring directly at you. If he only knew how far from bored you were in his class.

You felt like you were frozen, held in place by the way his eyes were looking straight into yours. His fingers were gripping the edge of your desk now, it took everything in you not to stare at the veins on the back of his hand. And, worst of all, you felt a blush starting to creep up your neck. You couldn’t get a single word out.

“I asked you a question, Ms. Y/L/N.” there was sincere anger evident in his voice now.

„I’m...I’m so sorry, Professor Tapper. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. It doesn’t come from a place of disrespect, because I have nothing but admiration for you...” you stopped yourself before saying something you might regret. You could feel your blush intensifying.

A look of realization flashed over your Professors face.

“Oh, so thats what this is all about, I see.” he murmured, and turned around, walking towards his own desk in the front of the classroom.

“I’ll make the necessary arrangements to get you transferred to Professor Coopers class. This situation is highly inappropriate and it can’t interfere with your academial career, I won’t allow it.”

You were shocked.

Quitting Professor Tappers class? Never having another lecture with him again seemed like an impossible thing to even imagine. Before you could stop yourself, you began to speak again.

“No, Sir, please don’t do this. I’ll get a grip on it, I promise. It’s a silly crush, I won’t act on it, ever. I’ll never be late again, and I’ll participate, I’ll respond to every single question you give me, just please don’t make me quit your class.” you pleaded.

Your professor didn’t answer, so you got up from your chair and made your way over to him, coming to a halt in front of his desk. He was looking at you, eyes dark, an almost pained expression on his face. You took the paper you spent all night finishing out of your bag, putting it on his desk.

“This is my latest assignment, please read it before you make your decision. I am really putting so much effort into my work for this class, and I can’t imagine going to another professor with my questions. Please don’t send me away.” You were almost begging now, desperation evident in your voice.

Professor Tapper sighed and took of his glasses, the motion making your heart go fast you felt arousal starting to burn in your lower stomach. He was too attractive for his own good. You realized, too late, that you said the last part out loud.

“Sorry.” you whispered, not daring to meet his eye.

“Ms...Y/N” he said, addressing you by your first name for the first time ever.

You looked up to him.

“What you don’t understand is that I can’t allow myself to teach you anymore, considering this new...development. I just can’t do it.”

He took another deep breath, looking as if he was under an immense amount of stress. His shoulders were tense, and the crease between his eyebrows was more prominent then ever.

“But why?” you cried, “we can act like this whole conversation never happened. Nothing has to change, I’ll do better, I promise!”

He slammed his palm onto the table, the loud noise echoing through the empty lecture hall.

“Because it takes every damn ounce of my self control not to throw you over this desk right now and have my way with you, so how the hell am I supposed to teach you every day knowing that this is exactly what you want me to do? Staring at me like you’re doing it right now? I can’t do it!”

he was almost shouting now, breathing heavily. He was leaning over his desk so that his face was just inches apart from yours, close enough for you to see the small wrinkles around his eyes and how his lips were slightly parted.

And then you just leaned over and kissed him. His lips were soft but unmoving under yours. He was absolutely rigid for a second. Then he groaned against your mouth, and one of his hands reached out to cup your jaw and pull you closer, deepening the kiss.

A moan escaped your lips, and he broke free, taking several steps back from you. He was breathing hard and you could see a bulge beginning to form in his suit pants.

“Y/N, you have to leave. Now. We can’t do this.”

But there was no chance you were throwing away this opportunity. You’ve wanted this man for months, and this was your shot. So you slowly circled the desk and stopped right in front of Professor Tapper.

Gathering all your courage, you put one of your hands on his arm...and let the other one brush against his tight, close to his crotch. He let out a hiss, but didn’t make an attempt to remove your hands. His body was tense, but his eyes were dark and full of desire. He clearly wanted this as much as you did.

“No one needs to know. “ you whispered. “We obviously both want this, we’re both adults and you’re not even responsible for my final exam. You’re a guest professor, plus my graduation is only two months away anyway. I’ve wanted this, you, since I first stepped into your class.”

This broke his last resolve, he surged forward and started kissing you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your back, going downwards and squeezing your ass through your skirt as he pressed you against the hardening bulge in his trousers. "Fuck...are you sure you want to do this?“ he groaned into your ear. You just managed a breathy „Oh my god, yes.“

He instantly grabbed your hair to tilt your head back and cover your exposed neck with kisses and nibbles, making your skin break out in goosebumps and heat coiling in your lower stomach. You could feel yourself starting to get wet, and grinded your core against his erection again, your hands fisted into the lapels of his suit jacket. You moved against him, causing him to groan again, the deep, rumbling sound only fueling your arousal.

Your hands were shaking as you started working on his fly, opening the zipper and palming his cock through his boxer briefs.

While he continued to kiss your neck, his hands found their way under your skirt and he quickly pulled your panties down. As soon as your hot center was exposed, one of his long fingers parted your folds, gathering wetness.

Two of his digits entered you in a swift motion and the feeling of his fingers stretching you was like heaven. He was stroking that special spot deep inside you with every move as he plunged in and out of your wet pussy.

You buried you head in Jacobs (yes, you started thinking of him as Jacob, which was fair enough considering he had his fingers buried inside you) shoulder, muffling your increasing moans as you felt your orgasm approaching. The familiar tingling started low in your belly and slowly spread into every part of your body as Jake continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you faster and faster, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit in the most delicious way.

"I’ve wanted to touch you for so long, feel you come apart under me. Come on, darling, come on my fingers.“ he growled into your ear and bit your earlobe. That was the last straw and you came with a cry, your walls clenching around his fingers as pleasure surged through you.

Your knees were weak as you slowly removed your head from his shoulder to look him in the eyes. His blown pupils and heavy breathing were making it obvious that this was affecting him just as much as you, which was also evident from the very prominent erection that was tenting his boxer briefs through the open fly. He carefully withdrew his fingers and quickly wiped them on his pants.

"Wow“ you said, still trying to find your breath. "That was...amazing“

Your head was still spinning a bit from the intensity of your orgasm, but you were already thinking about how to repay him for making you feel so good.

You reached out your hand to palm his erection again, making him utter a low groan. Leaning forward, you whispered into his ear.

"Let me reciprocate, please.”

"You don’t have to-"

You broke him off with a small smirk.

"Please, I insist.”

Without hesitation, you dropped to your knees in front of him. He watched you intensely, sucking in a sharp breath as you looked up to him from under your lashes while you slowly pulled down his briefs along with his trousers. His erection sprung free, and you wasted no time, putting your hand around the base and slowly started taking the head into your mouth. You could feel his cock heavy on your tongue as you slowly sucked him deeper. One of his hands fisted into your hair and he started thrusting in and out of your mouth.

You put your hands onto his thighs for leverage, softly scraping you nails across his skin, which only seemed to spur him on, his thrusts starting to become deeper.

“God, Y/N, your mouth feels absolutely fantastic. You look so beautiful on your knees, sucking me off, taking my cock between your pretty lips.”

You almost couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of your usually so eloquent Professors mouth. Who would’ve known he could talk so dirty.

It turned you on, immensely, and you increased your efforts, taking him even deeper into your mouth. You could feel his thrusts starting to quicken, and even if it was getting harder for you not to gag, you were enjoying this slightly rough treatment.

"Shit, I’m- I’m going to come, Y/N.” he gasped, locking eyes with you.

You nodded your head as far as it was possible, signaling him to not stop. Instead, you wrapped your hands around his legs and swallowed his cock deeper until it was hitting the back of your throat. He let out a deep, guttural moan and tightened his grip on your hair almost painfully as he came inside your mouth.

You released him, wiping the spit from your lips and looked up at your Professor. He was a sight to behold, dark eyes, tousled hair, leaning against his desk as he was slowly coming down from his high. You spoke first, getting up from the floor.

“I...liked that.” you said, unsure of what to say exactly.

He took a deep breath and rubbed a hand across his face.

“It was absolutely amazing. But we shouldn’t have done it. The very last thing I want is to take advantage of you. You deserve to be treated right.” he said in a low voice as he was readjusting his clothing. Hearing him say those things made a warm, happy feeling spread inside your chest. He cared. This hasn’t been just some quick way to blow off steam.

“You treated me exactly right, please dont worry...Jacob” you said, testing out the unfamiliar first name. He just nodded, and then his arms were around you, pulling you into a tight hug as he pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

“Thank you so much. But if you want this to continue, I must insist that you transfer into Professor Coopers class. Please, Y/N.”

his voice was heavy with emotion and he released you from the embrace to look directly at you.

“I agree. And I very much want this to continue, so I’m gonna transfer. It’s only for a few more weeks anyway. But, and this is my condition, you have to take me out for dinner this weekend.”

“Fair enough. I’d love to take you out properly. And please, call me Jake.”

[olivinesea]

A Mixed Blessing

Chapter List

chapter three: counting up the exits

a/n: Alright, fun’s over. We’re getting into the thick of it now. Warnings for substance use, abuse, panic attacks, vomit, scars (idk let me know if I need to be tagging more things please, I really don’t know. I feel like if you’ve found your way here you probably know what you’re getting into but I could be wrong.) Love you all <3 ~5k

It surprised no one when Aaron started cutting class in high school. He didn’t usually have any plans, just headed toward the fields, trying to stay out of sight. He may already have been considered a lost cause as a freshman but that didn’t mean an adult wouldn’t stop him, demand he return to whatever class he was missing. And that wouldn’t do, that would only ruin his good mood. At first he had been leaving class to better enjoy the high his mother’s pills provided but when that ended he continued to wander. It was much nicer outside than in the building where people stared at him, whispered about him, called him names. He kicked at rocks as he slunk behind the portables in the field. They had been put up during a population surge, only to sit empty, waiting on some future use or someone to be motivated enough to tear them down.

He slowed when he caught sight of a group of students standing next to the last building. They were circled together, backs to him for the most part. He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to approach. If he'd learned one thing, it was to avoid situations where he stood out. Walking up to a group of random older kids was definitely something to steer clear of. As he was trying to decide, a boy on the far side of the circle looked up and made eye contact. Aaron’s heart beat faster, breathing became short and though he wanted to run, he couldn’t get his legs to cooperate. The boy smiled slowly, his mouth a little too wide.

As if he was being pulled by some unseen thread, Aaron took a step forward, then another. Even though his mind was telling him to turn, to leave whatever this was alone, he found that he wanted to know more. No one ever smiled at him and it made him feel both uncomfortable and something else he couldn’t quite name. He twisted his fingers in the fabric of his sleeves that he’d pulled down over his hands. A chill air current danced across the back of his neck, whispering words he couldn’t comprehend. The cold made his ears ache.

He was close enough now to hear them talking, laughter and some grumbling from whoever was the butt of the joke. No one had noticed him yet aside from the boy who’d smiled at him. He felt his heart in his throat, worried he might throw up from the anxiety of this choice, this incredibly foolish choice. The boy looked at him again with that same peculiar smile. He seemed amused by Aaron’s nervous, stilted approach. Still several feet away from the group, the urge to flee overwhelmed him. His muscles tensed, preparing to run, half a thought went towards how ridiculous he would seem when they finally noticed him as he raced away. Just as he was turning, a voice called out, raised above the rest of the conversation.

“Hey kid, come here.”

Aaron’s shoulders rose up to his ears, bristling at being addressed like that but also helpless to the attention. Normally he’d do the opposite, flat out refuse to acknowledge this stranger’s demand, but the voice sank into him like a hook. He looked back at the group, now all eyes staring at him, questions clear on their faces. He bit his lip before he could stop himself. There were too many people looking at him and he hated it. He could imagine how he looked to them—too skinny, too pale, drowning in his own clothes and the bruising that shadowed his eyes. He’d gotten taller but barely looked old enough to be a high school student even though he would turn fifteen in a few months. This had been a stupid idea.

“What’s your name?” The other boy’s voice cut through the air, pinning him in place.

“Aaron,” he mumbled, suspicious he’d been dragged into this only to be mocked (or worse).

“You a freshman?” There were chuckles around the group. He nodded reluctantly, eyes darting to the ground, unable to look at any of them directly.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” A different voice, this one female and clearly irritated by the interruption he’d caused.

He looked up to glare at the speaker, not enjoying being teased. “Shouldn’t you?”

While the girl directed a bitter scowl at him, the first boy snorted, holding up his hands. “Fine, fine, we all make our own choices I guess.”

Aaron frowned at that statement, unsure what to make of it. The rest of the group lost interest and returned to their previous conversation, widening the circle just enough to leave space for him. He shoved his hands in his pockets to stop from fidgeting and took the few remaining steps towards the group. He couldn’t bring himself to completely join them so he hung back half a step, always ready to make a quick getaway. When he looked up, that same boy was still watching him. Up close Aaron could see he had freckles, which felt out of place somehow. They suggested a sort of innocence that the rest of his face, all sharp angles and dark, calculating eyes completely contradicted.

The person next to him handed the boy a joint. He continued to stare at Aaron as he took a drag, closing his eyes only as he inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs. He reached across the circle to hand the joint to Aaron, skipping several people who muttered in annoyance but no one complained too loudly. Their fingers touched as he passed off the half burned joint. Aaron had never smoked before but he was more than willing to try. He was certainly not going to turn it down in front of half a dozen upperclassmen.

“Make sure you inhale all the way,” he instructed.

Aaron did, coughing as the smoke came back out, scraping his throat. There was some laughter but mostly they were indifferent to him. The only one paying any attention to him was the boy with the strange smile; it wasn’t friendly and it unnerved Aaron. He tried to hand the joint back as he smothered another cough.

“Again,” he said, eyes intense.

Aaron blinked at him. The boy waved his hand in encouragement or impatience. Aaron flinched at the unexpected movement but tried to hide it by doing as he was told, bringing the joint back to his lips and taking another drag. This time was a little easier though he wasn’t sure he liked the way it made his face feel hot and his eyes water. The other boy accepted this time when he tried to return it. Already the edges of his vision were softening, his chest felt like it was being wrapped in something warm. He hugged his arms around himself, feeling very out of place, the sounds of the others talking fading in and out like a stereo speaker with a bad connection.

He looked up again moments or minutes later and the older boy was still watching him with that same expression. Aaron was finally able to place it, the narrowed eyes and too many teeth self-satisfied grin of a cat who’d caught a bird. He laughed at the absurdity of this thought. He laughed and he found that he couldn’t stop laughing. He crouched down, hugging himself tighter to try to stem the laughter that way.

“Oh no, you got the baby high, Cole,” he heard someone say. He wondered who they were talking about. Who was the baby and who was Cole; he was unable to make the association. There weren’t any babies here. Sean was a baby and he was at home. He had almost managed to stop laughing but thinking about Sean being here, so out of place with his golden curls, his innocent smile, made him start to giggle again. He started coughing as he choked on his own saliva, muscles lazily not performing their assigned tasks of conducting fluids where they belonged. He felt a hand pounding his back and he tried to roll away from the pain it caused, unsuccessfully biting back a moan. He closed his eyes, vaguely embarrassed but also not fully aware of his surroundings anymore. He knew he was outside because he felt the damp grass beneath him, pressing against his cheek. How did he end up laying on the ground? He tried to breathe but his lungs didn’t seem to be taking directions anymore. He grabbed at his chest with frantic fingers.

“Hey,” this voice was quiet, much closer to him than before. He felt a hand placed carefully on his shoulder, barely any pressure this time, a dragonfly lighting on the water. He was too confused to open his eyes, too afraid he’d made his way back home somehow—why couldn’t he remember? Why couldn’t he just get his lungs to expand?

“You’re fine.” The statement was more command than reassurance. Aaron tried to place the voice, thoughts flashing through his mind at an alarming rate. Each time he tried to catch one, they sped by faster. He’d almost gotten it but he was so distracted by the chill transferring from the individual blades of grass, the water drops becoming wet patches on his shirt. He should have more layers on, the weather was changing already. The hand shook his shoulder a little, bringing him back to the present.

“Look at me.”

He cracked his eyes open reluctantly, unable to disobey even though he was terrified he’d be met with the dark eyes of his father, that he’d find this was only the set up for something horrible. He didn’t know what to think when his vision was met with that freckled face, no longer smiling, a slight frown of concern along with a clinical curiosity. He touched his fingers to Aaron’s exposed collarbone.

“Inhale,” he said and Aaron wondered if time had made a loop—how many times had this happened already? The cool pressure on his chest distracted him from the thought and he did as he was told. The flood of oxygen immediately relaxed his constricted limbs. The boy, Cole, nodded encouragingly. “Again.”

Aaron closed his eyes to focus better, all he felt was the air filtering into his lungs and the fingers splayed against his chest, guiding it there. A few more breaths and he knew where he was again, finally locating himself in space and time. With this awareness came the full force of his embarrassment. He blushed as he pushed himself upright, curling his fists so tightly his nails dug deep into his palms. Cole looked at him from his position squatting beside him, hands on his knees, trying to be certain the younger boy wouldn’t collapse again.

“Are you coming?” someone called. The group had moved down the field, heading someplace more interesting. They’d had enough of the small drama of some inexperienced kid overdoing it. It was time to get away from campus before a teacher took notice. Cole ignored them, watching Aaron’s slow recovery. Aaron felt dizzy, still lightheaded from lack of air. His sides ached from laughing but he couldn’t remember what had been so funny. Cole stood and extended a hand down to Aaron.

“Come on.”

Aaron couldn’t decline even if he’d wanted to.

~

From that day forward Aaron found himself trailing this group around whenever he couldn’t stand being in class anymore. He’d sneak away from the building and down to the field where he’d find a few of them lingering. Sometimes only two or three, sometimes more. They never said much to him but no one told him to go away. Cole was usually there and while Aaron would swear he could feel his eyes watching him, he didn’t speak much to him either. When they’d leave campus, he would follow them to the woods where they’d taken over an abandoned shed. Over time teens with the same ideas had dragged logs and old couches around to lounge on as they got high and drank warm bottles of malt liquor. Aaron always tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, half-certain they would yell at him to leave if they realized he was tagging along, leaching off their pot and alcohol. At first he only took sips, pretending to drink but wanting to stay alert to the people around him, not trusting any of them. But eventually, as they continued to ignore him, he relaxed into the habit.  

After the first panicked experience of getting high, he had a much better time, taking smaller hits until he built up his tolerance. Sometimes it made him giggly but mostly he liked to just lay on one of the stained couch cushions and stare at the branches above, eyes unfocused, colors blurring. He listened to the birds and the voices around him and the way they blended together, layering to make a song only he could hear. He didn’t notice the dirty looks he got from one girl, Amy, whenever Cole sat beside him, passing him a bottle of something he certainly didn’t need more of. He’d gotten better at drinking than when he was a child, no longer as prone to getting sick, but he still didn’t eat enough not to need to be careful.

On a Tuesday later in the year, a couple months since he’d started hanging around with the older kids, he didn’t find anyone when he went down to the field. But he’d already left class so he decided to go on to the shed on his own, perhaps they’d left early that day. The day was overcast and starting to drizzle. He pulled the hood of his ratty sweatshirt over his head while the mist collected and dripped off his dark bangs into his face. When he got to the clearing, he didn’t see anyone there either. It was too wet to sit outside so he pushed the door to the shed open. It was dim inside and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust as he heard scuffling noises.

“What the fuck!” a girl’s voice shrieked.

Aaron realized what he’d walked in on and stumbled back quickly. He knew he should run but he just kept backing up slowly, heels sinking into the soft forest floor, unable to take his eyes off the partially closed door. Less than a minute later it swung open again, a tall shape emerging from the dimness. It was Cole, pushing his hair back off his forehead with one hand, adjusting the waist of his jeans with the other. They locked eyes and that smile was back, the one that made Aaron’s skin crawl but drew him in at the same time.

“Come here kid.”

Aaron hated that he gave in so easily but he changed direction, retracing his steps. Once he was within reach, Cole grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. A camp lantern had appeared from somewhere, throwing shadows and providing just enough light to see the scowl on Amy’s face as she finished straightening her top. Cole pushed Aaron down onto one of the cushions on the floor. She curled her lip in distaste at Aaron before turning on Cole. “I don’t understand why you let this kid hang around. He’s a total creep.”

Aaron frowned and tried to shrink into his sweatshirt. He didn’t want to be there either.

“Now that’s not very nice,” Cole replied, mockingly stern. He dug around in his worn backpack, pulling out a bottle of cheap whiskey. “Look you made him feel bad. Better say sorry.” He still sounded like he was teasing but there was a hard edge in his voice, his eyes were watching her reactions, unblinking. “Maybe a little kiss will help.”

Amy scoffed, looking between Aaron, who was wishing he could disappear, and Cole, who was unscrewing the cap of the bottle.

“Fuck you Cole,” she spat and then stomped out of the building. The thin walls shook as she slammed the door. Cole shrugged and flicked the cap away. It vanished into the shadows beyond the range of the lantern. He took a gulp then pressed it into Aaron’s hands as he sat down alongside him, leaning against the wall. Aaron hesitated, he’d never been alone with Cole, with any of them, and he wasn’t sure what to expect.

Cole noticed and smirked. “Need help kid?”

Aaron’s pride flared, he hated it when they called him that, the way they acted like he was so young, too young to know anything. But he knew plenty, far more than they could ever imagine. He lifted the bottle to his lips and swallowed, wincing down the sharp gasoline fumes. It had been awhile since he’d had any real liquor. The others always showed up with beers and forties that they were able to steal or shoulder tap from the bums in the liquor store parking lot. He wasn’t surprised to find Cole watching his reaction closely. He was always watching. Silently, he nodded his chin, indicating the bottle, so Aaron drank again. He tried to ignore the feeling of discomfort, the voice in his head mocking him for becoming so compliant.

He’d spent the last few weeks watching Cole out of the corner of his eye, seeing how the others treated him differently. They might tease and rough house with each other but never with him. And when Cole said an argument was settled, that was the end of it, regardless of whether the parties involved felt their complaints had been satisfied. There was something about him that was both frightening and compelling, sending a shiver up Aaron’s spine when he thought of him. He had been trying to figure it out and thought it must be related to the way Cole’s eyes never seemed to blink as he stared so intently. It always made him uncomfortable, made him assume he was in the wrong somehow. The part that confused Aaron the most though, was that he’d do anything to fix it. Even not knowing what was wrong, he felt the need to make it right, to win the older boy’s approval. Cole silently took the bottle from Aaron’s fingers as he was lost in contemplation of this stranger he was suddenly in such close quarters with. It felt like being too close to a wild animal. Something with too much intelligence that was just biding its time until it could strike.

Cole leaned his head back against the wall, letting the bottle hang from his fingers in between his bent knees. He closed his eyes and sighed, tired of the world already at seventeen.

“Hotchner.”

He said it so quietly Aaron almost didn’t catch it. He flicked his eyes over to Cole who hadn’t moved. Maybe he was hearing things now.

“That’s you, right?” He was looking at Aaron again, expression impossible to interpret beneath the rippling shadows cast by the tree branches as they swayed in the wind.

Aaron nodded slowly, unsure where this was going. He’d never told any of them his last name but there was no reason to think that they wouldn’t be able to figure it out. The town was not all that large. He passed the bottle back again. Aaron couldn’t even taste it anymore. His head was starting to swim.

“Your dad’s the lawyer right?”

“Mhm,” Aaron didn’t really want to answer but didn’t see how he could lie about it either. Cole laughed at the scowl on his face. Defiantly he took another swallow.

“Not too fond of the old man?”

Aaron lifted a shoulder, noncommittal. Even drunk he was not about to start talking about his father with anyone.

“Mm, not sharing. That’s alright.” He pulled rolling papers and a bag of pot out of his back pocket. Aaron hoped that would be the end of that line of questioning. It was quiet for a few minutes as Cole focused on breaking apart a bud.

“I don’t have a dad,” he said as if continuing some conversation they hadn’t quite started. “Or a mom, really.”

Aaron snorted, too drunk now to be careful with his reactions. “‘fcourse you do. That’s stupid.”

Cole looked up from his task, amused by this outburst. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

The way he said it suggested something dark and twisted but Aaron shied away from the bait, opting to drink more rather than wade deeper into whatever that was. Cole resumed rolling the joint, placing it to his lips and lighting it when it was ready.

“Who—“ Aaron wanted to ask who takes care of you but that sounded too juvenile. He was already annoyed with how they treated him like a little kid. He settled on, “Where do you live?”

Cole exhaled, blowing the smoke into Aaron’s face. “My grandma’s got a basement where I crash sometimes.”

Aaron didn’t ask what he did the rest of the time, just accepted the joint that was being passed to him. He brought it to his lips with unsteady fingers. He was just aware enough to know this was a terrible idea, but Cole’s steady gaze on him wouldn’t let him stop now. He could do anything the other boy could do. He would do anything the other boy wanted him to do. It hardly made sense but this older boy—who didn’t know him, who he had nothing to offer to— nevertheless, this boy was paying attention to him in a way that no one else did. The only other person who was ever this aware of his existence was his father and that was never a good awareness. They continued smoking and drinking in silence as it started to rain in earnest.

“I hate him.” Aaron’s voice was raw with fury, the feeling so strong he was on the verge of tears. Cole nodded lazily, too stoned or too disinterested to form a reply. But now that he’d started, Aaron couldn’t stop thinking about every bad thing that had ever happened to him at the hands of his father, of how his mother just let it happen, of how no one had ever bothered to notice. His breathing sped up. He needed Cole to understand, to believe him and to acknowledge that his life, his experiences were real. He felt a sudden intense certainty that if he couldn’t have just one person look at him and see what was really there, he would disappear completely, never more than an irritation, swatted away by a distracted hand. He leaned forward on his hands, swaying unsteadily as he tried to make eye contact with Cole. For some reason he wouldn’t stay in one place, his image swinging from side to side. Aaron shook his head, hoping to clear it. The other boy lifted the nearly empty bottle to his mouth, lifting an eyebrow at this behavior, eyes bloodshot and hollow.

“I—“ Aaron couldn’t finish his thought. His stomach muscles seized and everything he’d consumed over the past day forcefully came back up, spraying across both Cole and himself. He coughed, nearly choking as he doubled over, forehead touching the dirty floor, scraping against it with his fingernails, trying to find purchase on the violently tilting horizon. Cole swore loudly, dropping and breaking the bottle in his attempt to move away from the mess. The smell of the spilled alcohol, so close to Aaron’s nose was too much and he threw up again, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t remember what had been so important just moments before, all he could do was pray he would be forgiven. He didn’t have a lot of hope.

“Goddamnit,” Cole muttered, moving away from the broken glass and liquid mess. Aaron felt a hand pulling on the back of his sweatshirt and cowered, putting his arms above his head, unable to operate on anything but instinct. Cole tugged a little harder, dragging him away from the mess he’d created.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron sobbed, wishing he didn’t exist, regretting his earlier insistence on being noticed. Cole pulled him to his feet none too gently and Aaron braced himself for the hit he knew was coming, the hit he knew he deserved. Instead he felt fingers pulling up the hem of his sweatshirt, he snapped his arms to his sides and tried to back away but stumbled back into a broken and worn office chair someone had lifted from the school. He sat heavily, barely saving himself from falling onto the floor as the chair rocked unevenly. He gripped the sides of the seat so hard his knuckles turned white and, though he wanted to close his eyes, he also wanted to see what was coming, wanted to prepare himself.

Cole stared at him for a minute, incredulous, then shrugged. He pulled his own soiled shirt off in a single motion, hooking the back of the collar to bring it over his head so none of the vomit came into contact with his skin. He balled it up, wrapping the clean fabric around the outside and dropped it on the floor. When he was finished he noticed Aaron staring at him, staring at his chest. He looked down, tracing a finger over the long purple scar that ran from the bottom of his ribs almost to his hip bone, dark against his exposed skin.

“Like it?” he asked mildly. “It’s got a partner,” he said as he turned, showing another dark scar, not as long but thicker, near the middle of his back. There were other, smaller scars, some Aaron recognized as the circular prints left by the lit end of cigarettes. When he turned back around, Aaron’s eyes were large and round, unable to comprehend what he’d been shown. Cole scratched at the long scar a little self consciously.

“My mom was real into meth and uh…well she thought I was trying to steal from her one time.” He shifted from foot to foot, pressing his fingertips against his scar. “It was a long time ago,” he added.

“You said you didn’t have a mom,” Aaron said stupidly after the silence became unbearable.

Cole’s eyes grew dark. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

Aaron shivered, promising himself he’d just shut up from here on out. Cole ran a hand through his sandy blond hair, it appeared brown in the dim lighting.

“Are you going to take that off or what?”

Aaron looked down at himself, he was covered in vomit. Seeing it made him aware again of the smell and the nausea and he raced to pull it off, forgetting that he too had something to hide. He was too intoxicated to be coordinated and his shirt came off along with the sweatshirt and he was left exposed from the waist up, just the same as Cole. It was the other boy’s turn to stare, to assess the range of injuries inflicted by the marks left behind. Aaron might not have anything as dramatic but he made up for that in quantity. Aaron forced himself not to close in on himself, to allow the other boy the same time to observe that he’d been given. He couldn’t meet his gaze though, looking out the window as his cheeks burned red with humiliation.

The silence stretched out and he started to think that he would be left standing there forever. That he was too broken, even for someone who knew what Cole knew, who had experienced a similar kind of pain. He squeezed his eyes shut to try to stop the tears, telling himself he was stupid, so stupid to have thought it was at all the same. He was startled when he felt cool fingertips on his chin, turning his face.

“It’s gonna be okay.” He said it quietly, like he knew this was Aaron’s deepest, most shameful desire. He left him for a moment, walking in a wide arc around the mess. Aaron stood chewing on his lip, trying to remain composed. He came back with a sweater he’d pulled out of his backpack. Instead of handing it to him, he pulled it on over Aaron’s head, carefully guiding his arms into the sleeves. It was too big, but clothes were always too big on him, and the fabric was soft and warm. When Aaron was dressed again, Cole pulled on his jacket, a dark canvas, faded at the elbows with frayed drawstrings. He left the zipper undone and Aaron could just see the edge of his scar. It pulled his gaze like a magnet. He couldn’t help staring; too much had just happened for him to process and he hung on this one detail, this proof that he wasn’t alone.

He believed the scar was evidence that there was one person who had lived a life like his and still managed to move through the world unbroken. He didn’t know yet how scar tissue, like icebergs and secrets, grew larger and more twisted the deeper one looked. He wanted to believe in a life with simple answers, with safe endings to stories like his. See, here’s proof. He wanted to touch Cole’s scars, absorb them through his palms as if he could absorb a resolution to his own pain, as if it would make everything stop long enough for all his own wounds to heal over, to scar and become long ago stories instead of the next act waiting in the wings.

Cole zipped his jacket closed, blocking Aaron’s view and breaking off his feverish train of thought. Cole looked at him with a complicated mix of emotion. There was tenderness but also hunger. Aaron couldn’t decipher what that meant but he didn’t care, he was already lost to this idea, a belief he was too ready to attach to this person he barely knew. High on the revelation, he would believe what he wanted: he’d found someone who understood, someone who would stay with him, not leave him struggling on his own. And he would follow him anywhere.

chapter four

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Eduardo Dorado Jr. with an s/o who is a Scientist

amateurwriterbigdreamer said: Could I request Eduardo dorado jr with a university student who is a metahuman and a scientist so she gets along with his father causing Eduardo dorado jr to feel left out?

You were interning at S.T.A.R. labs

That’s how you met Eduardo

You were a couple years older and an incredibly intelligent, beautiful woman

It was no surprise that Eduardo developed a huge crush on you

At a young age, he thought he was handling it well but, on your side, it was painfully obvious

He would get super blushy and embarrassed and still try to flirt with you

Which was kind of adorable

Because he was no nervous, he would end up messing up his lines

“Um, did it hurt?”

“What?”

“Did it hurt when you became an angel?”

“.... Do you mean ‘did it hurt when you fell from heaven’?”

“Because you look like an angel!! Thank you!!”

“Sure.”

You indulged him of course because you just couldn’t bear to break his little heart

But you never ever returned his flirting

You just listened to them

One of the reasons that you never shot him down was because his father told you not to

Ed was always more compliable and cooperative during routine checks

He tried to impress you and didn’t lose his temper as quickly as he used to

And that helped with the experiment, which you were hired to do so you agreed

And however pathetic it may sound, you felt special that someone was so infatuated with you

He would hover around you, asking questions about what you’re doing even though he’d never understand what when you did explain to him

He’d still offer his opinion though even though it wasn’t really appropriate

“I think you look really hot next to that thing, babe.”

“It’s a particle collider, Ed. And don’t call me babe.”

“Noted.”

He’d get really jealous too when you would hang out with his father because at the time, he wasn’t on good terms with him

He’d get huffy and upset

“Ed, your father is my boss, I kind of have to.”

“I know...”

Your relationship just remained that way because you knew nothing would ever come from it

He was way too young for you and it was creepy

And even though you were expecting a confession from him, when you finally received it you were incredibly surprised

“I like you, (Y/N), will you please be my girlfriend?”

You really didn’t want to shoot him down because he would never forget it

“Um, you know I’m too old for you, Ed. It’s not right.”

“Age is just a number.”

“So is 911.”

He looked so disappointed; you just couldn’t find it in your heart to leave him then

So, you just ruffled his hair and said

“Tell you what, you ask me again when you’re a few inches taller than me and I promise I will think about it.”

He sent you such a blinding grin you thought a little fib was worth it

Besides, when he actually got to the height, he would totally forget about this

At least that’s what you thought

You saw him for the last time when he was escaping

You were on the phone with his father, looking around for the Runaways

And you did find them

You just stared at Ed for the longest time as he silently pleaded for you not to say anything

“Yeah, I’m here, no, they’re, they’re nowhere to be found.”

He gave you a huge hug and you ruffled his hair again

“Be safe, okay?”

“I promise I’ll come back and ask you when I’m taller.”

“Haha, I’ll hold you do it.”

You don’t see him again for a couple years, you were sent to another country to intern

But you returned after learning something very important

You were a meta

The first person you thought to contact was Ed Sr. because he had the most experience with this

That was when you met Ed again

And oh boy

Puberty was extremely kind to him, and you felt extremely disgusted with yourself when you couldn’t seem to get your eyes off him

“It’s good to see you again.”

“You too.”

“So, am I tall enough for you yet?”

“Kind of sudden don’t you think?”

“I don’t think so, I’ve been waiting 4 years.”

You couldn’t really tell if he was being serious or joking but you chose to ignore it

You just couldn’t get past the fact that he used to be so tiny

You couldn’t stop seeing him that way

To no one’s surprise, you still hover around the labs

You help the justice league by performing DNA fingerprinting and such

As always, Ed still helps you around

He’s become more mature than you realize

Earlier he always used to flirt with you and it sometimes seemed like his life revolved around you

But now it was different

You could speak like equals now

It made you realize how much you would just brush him off as a kid

Everything he used to think and say at the time was just something that he’d grow out of

Now you’re realizing that he’s much more profound and intelligent that you gave him credit for

It makes you see him in a different light

Then you begin to feel all awkward and embarrassed around him

And extremely annoyed with yourself that you like a kid

So, you begin to avoid him until these feelings go away

But Ed quickly corners you and asks you why

“I just, I’ve been having feelings for you lately.”

“And you don’t want that?”

“You’re just a kid, Ed.”

“I’m not a kid anymore...I’ve grown up now.”

“I still see you that way though, and it’s embarrassing and weird that I’ve begun to have feelings for you now.”

“Well instead of making yourself feel guilty, you should try and look at me differently.”

He waits until you’re ready

Extremely patient and it makes you fall even more to be honest

Since him being taller that you was basically what started this whole thing

You better believe he is making some short jokes

“How’s the weather down there?”

Uses your head as an arm rest

Sometimes pretends not to see you

But also uses your shorter self to an advantage

Corners you against the wall

Towers over you many times

Does that thing when you’re reaching from something, he just comes behind you and then you’re all close and warm

He still spends time with you in the lab

Until he’s caught making out with you on the table and then gets banned

He also helps you train and get control of your powers

Makes out with you on the training mats too

He gets insecure that you may still think of him as a kid

How does he get rid of those fears?

By kissing you until you can’t feel your legs

And therefore, everyone finds you making out most of the time

He loves that you’re so intelligent

Like loves it

So much so that he actually brags about it

Also talks about you a lot to his friends who are not impressed

“You know, (Y/N) said this the other day.”

“She would look so good in that.”

“She loves to eat that.”

“Maybe I should bring something home for her?”

“We get it, you have a girlfriend!”

People would expect you to mother him and you do most of the times

But Ed also takes care of you a lot

You get stressed and sometimes extremely overwhelmed because your career is just as important to you as your abilities

Ed is the one who keeps track of your self-care

Also fusses around you like his abuela when you’re not taking care of yourself

He also feels extremely comforted by the fact that you’re older than him because he knows whenever he needs advice, he can go to you

Because you’re more experienced and a lot smarter than him

He never makes you feel the age gap though

And when people make jokes about it, even though they meant for it to be harmless, Ed is there just looking like they might as well have shot you

All in all, regardless of age, he is a great boyfriend

[yoa-artblog]

Since I low-key gave Macavity the Wesker haircut I'm thinking thoughts about a Cats Resident Evil AU... Mashing up my two current fixations 👀

Idk if I'll actually make something out of this but I need to get this out. I'm only assigning cats to RE characters who survived the outbreaks bc I don't have it in my heart to kill any of them.

Resident Evil: You can play as either Munkustrap or Demeter, as part of the S.T.A.R.S. team, looking for your teammates in a zombie infested mansion.

Munkustrap is very kind and loyal, can get incredibly fierce while protecting those he cares about. His larger build means he can handle stronger firearms and has higher health points, but he's a bit slower. His support character is Skimbleshanks, as a long time friend and a cat with generally more field experience and quick thinking. He eventually runs into Victoria and help each other out.

Demeter is a lot more cautious but very brave and not one to back out from the challenge, she moves faster to make up for her lower health points, her weapons are more precision focused. Her support character is Macavity, Munkustrap's older brother and the S.T.A.R.S. Captain.

As you investigate the place looking for survivors and a way out you start unraveling the mystery as to what happened there in the first place, the mansion was a cover for an Umbrella laboratory and a virus spill was what caused the zombie outbreak. You discover Macavity has been working for Umbrella for years now and was the one who sold the team to "research purposes" (angst ensues as Munkustrap realizes his own brother led him and his teammates to their deaths). In the final confrontation Macavity is presumed dead as Munk, Demeter, Skimble and Victoria manage to escape.

_____________________

Resident Evil 0: You play as Victoria and Plato. Set a few hours before the events in RE.

Victoria is the rookie on her first mission as a S.T.A.R.S. member, sent to investigate the missing reports on the nearby forest. Her special skill set is mixing healing and chemical items.

Plato is a young delinquent, with a heart of gold, who was framed for the murder of several cats by a wealty dirtbag and was being transported for relocation. His special skill set is handling heavy firepower weapons and pretty much work as a shield for her (?).

As Vic and her team got surrounded by turned policles she tried to take refuge in a nearby train, where she encountered Plato, who saw the outbreak as a chance and escaped. They now need to cooperate with each other to survive even if they're weary of each other at first. You must alternate between the two characters to progress.

They go through another facility and laboratory outbreak together, at the end and after learning the truth, Victoria agreeds to pretend Plato died in the outbreak so he can escape, as she seeks to reunite with her teammates in a mansion not too far away.

_____________________

Resident Evil 2: you play as Bombalurina and Tugger

Bombalurina came into the city looking for her sister, Demeter, after she went radio silent for over three weeks. She's stronger than she looks but a bit of a hot head, you don't want to get on her bad side, also very kind and protective. After she arrives she realizes she's trapped in a zombie apocalypse and her sister is nowhere to be found.

Tugger is a rookie who enrolled to follow his older brothers' steps and is now running late for his first day on the job. But thanks to this he was able to met Bomba on the way. He's very naive and a little wet behind the ears but loyal like no one else, also very flirty.

They both find and rescue Electra while looking for an escape route on the police station. She's Bomba's support character, helping her get stuff from small places she can't access and stuff.

Mistoffelees is also there!! Originally working as an agent for Macavity sent to recuperate a virus sample. He runs into Tugger somewhere along the way and they fall in love he begrudgingly becomes his support character, putting his mission on the side to make sure Tugger survives the whole thing.

Bombalurina and Tugger go through an umbrella lab trying to find a cure for Electra, who's been infected. After they manage to cure her, the lab sets up to self destruct and the three of them escape just barely. Mistoffelees stays behind to try and retrieve the sample, we're not sure what happened to him.

[princess-of-the-worlds]

tldr: As of this October, it has officially been one year since I first watched Torchwood and started reading fics. Although I didn’t start writing my own fics until March 2020, I have written...like a lot of fics in the past seven months. But I wanted to celebrate my favorite fics by other people. So here is Part 1 of probably several eventual fic rec posts. These are what I consider fandom staples.

To The Sticking Place by zephyras13 

The end justifies the means. Failure is not an option. There is always a choice, except when there isn't. These are the phrases Ianto Jones lives by and he refuses to allow anyone, even Captain Jack Harkness, to change that. Jack/Ianto, AU, Torchwood One Agent!Ianto.

(janto & others | complete | mature | 96K)

Nik: I legitimately cannot explain why I love this fic so much other than the fact it is so great! It was one of the first fics I read, and I still adore it. It follows canon so well while making you feel very range of the emotion spectrum. The author’s take on Ianto is so complexly-written but still feels true to the canonical Ianto. Literally one of the first fics I’d rec to anyone new to fandom. A must read.

only fools fall by transjackianto

“Oh my god,” he gasps out when his laughter has died down to softer chuckles, “I am so glad I stuck around to hear that.  Thank you Jack, I needed to laugh today. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he pushes back from the table for the third time but Jack stops him again with a hand over his own. It is a softer touch than before and that unnerves Ianto more than anything.

He looks up, terrified he’s going to see some kind of earnest emotion on Jack’s face.  When he finds Jack looking instead like he swallowed a handful of pins he relaxes. He’s not sure he could handle finding out Jack had some kind of ridiculous unrequited crush on him.

“I know,” Jack groans, dropping Ianto’s hand and letting his head thunk against where his arms are crossed on the table, “I want to punch myself just for saying it, but I mean it Ianto. I need you to be my boyfriend.”

-

Aka, Ianto just wants to make it through his summer as a newly single sixth form graduate and eagerly await the end when his ex comes back from her summer trip and they can reunite.

His ex-friend Jack Harkness throws a wrench into the works.

(janto, lisaianto, & others | complete | mature | 182K)

Nik: Okay, so I’m a tiny bit biased with this one considering that the author is my friend whom I adore and also one of my favorite people in this fandom. And I...also betaed this entire fic. But take it from me! It’s so, so well-written and the shift from enemies to lover is so perfect. There is angst, oh so much angst, but it is worth it. Plus, it’s incredibly hot! And I know the author has eventual plans for a sequel, although no promises when it’s coming. Another must read!

Halfway Back by Sholio (@sholiofic)

Team Torchwood run a sanctuary for magical creatures, and this time they've got a basilisk on their hands.

(gen | complete | teen | 13K)

Nik: Okay, so literally anything by Sholio is perfect. They have an incredible grasp of the team dynamic that still blows my mind, and their fics have topnotch Owen-Ianto interactions. But I chose this fic because the premise felt like almost nothing I’d read in this fandom before. Plus, there is still the requisite amount of Owen angst in this. (Also check out The Cartography of Feeling, which is another personal favorite.)

Conversational Japanese, Plus Frogs by james

Tosh and Ianto have been taken prisoner. They cope.

(janto | complete | teen | 6K)

Nik: One of the older, shorter recs on this list but still a classic. A fascinating in-depth character study of Ianto and Tosh and their friendship in confined quarters that also explores the trauma that follows some of Torchwood’s misadventures. I don’t think I can say much else besides urging you to read it!

Sharkreef (Or, Why Torchwood Was Set in Cardiff and Not the Bermuda Triangle) by queenfanfiction

There is the story of a team who tried to save Earth from aliens. This is not that story.

(janto & many, many others | complete | teen | 2K)

Nik: Look, I know that some will actually despise that I included this rec, but this fic is ICONIC. It’s cracky, yes. Cracky crack. Very crack. But it’s also legitimately one of the strangest/whackiest/what-the-fuck fics I’ve ever read. It always startles a genuine laugh out of me. It has all of our favorite tropes...coupled with some lobsters. (Sidenote: This reminds me of John Mulaney/SNL’s Diner Lobster sketch, which I also encourage you to watch.)

Insignificant Other by parachutewoman 

Ianto is tasked with telling Rhys that his newly wedded wife has ditched him to go to London with Jack on a “very important mission”. Refusing to have his day ruined, Rhys drags Ianto along to the Six Nations final and the two ‘other halves’ try to make sense of their place in the world and their partners’ lives.

(janto & gwenrhys | complete | mature | 6K)

Nik: Ianto-Rhys friendship content is something that is severely lacking in this fandom, which is a damn shame. You can see from COE that Rhys seems to genuinely care about Jack and Ianto, which I presume is from post-Exit Wounds bonding with his wife’s coworkers. And I know that the audiobook Ghost Train has a lot of good Ianto-Rhys bonding, although I just haven’t had the time to listen to it yet. Either way, this fic, and the other fics by this author, are very well-written and beautiful. This one, set circa S2, has just the right amount of angst mixed in as well as you watched Ianto go from reluctantly accompanying Rhys to actually enjoying himself. I definitely enjoyed this fic.

Beast Inside by Flamingbluepanda (@flamingbluepanda)

"Argue with anything else, but don’t argue with your own nature.” - Phillip Pullman

Inside us all, there is an animal that expresses our soul. How would the world change were those animals outside?

(janto & others | complete | mature | 26K)

Nik: Admittedly, this one is also a bit biased because the author is my friend and I am their loyal occasional beta, but I started reading it before I met the author. Although daemons do come from His Dark Materials, they have become a sort of AU on their own, and thus, you do not need to have read HDM to read this excellent fic. I definitely have not. There is angst, there is fluff, there is canon compliance. And there is Dai. Dai, Rhys’s corgi daemon, is probably not the one you would expect to steal the show, but he stole my heart. (I mean, Navi and Emma, Jack’s bear daemon and Ianto’s terrier daemon, adorable respectively...but Dai!) Expect to fall in love with Dai by ths end of this fic!

To Let by Amand_r

Ianto Jones is a good housemate.

(janto & lisaianto | complete | not rated | 12K)

Nik: Now this fic is a little bit different from the rest because it is not only second person POV but is also outside POV, which makes it slightly odd to read at first. But I can assure you, it is most definitely worth it. Ianto’s unnamed housemate makes for an interesting perspective into Ianto’s personal and domestic life as well as exploring his relationship with Jack. His housemate, of course, doesn’t remain one-sided, with loss and love and life of his own, but you can tell that his bond with Ianto is genuine. This fic provides a nice break from the explicit canon while still exploring familiar events.

Your Job Knows What It Is by ShastaFirecracker

Torchwood Three, 2045. Bram Hudson's just been recruited by Jack Harkness, it's xir first day of work, and orientation is being handled by some old man named Jones.

(janto | complete | gen | 9K)

Nik: Okay, I lied. This fic is outsider POV as well, but Bram is so well-written and complex even from the short while we have with xem. As an alternate to the previous fic, this one provides great, interesting exploration into a future, slightly different Torchwood while also serving as a COE fix-it fic. Older Ianto is just as badass as when he was younger, and the insights into his relationship with Jack are sweet and will leave you craving more.

Worrisome Heart by thepsychicclam

It's 1922. Ianto accidentally stumbles upon a speakeasy owned by Captain Jack Harkness. When Ianto becomes a bartender, he quickly learns how dangerous everything around him truly is, and more importantly, how dangerous Jack is. But the longer he knows Jack, the more he doesn't care.

(janto | complete | explicit | 42K)

Nik: This fic, this series in fact, is one of the only complete Historical AUs I have found in this fandom. Set in 1922 New York, it features all our beloved characters as completely human and sans Torchwood and aliens, which - of course - means that they can feel a bit OOC at first. Still, as you read on through this fic and its three sequels, you will realize just how well adopted the events and characterization from canon are. If you going in thinking of this as original work rather than fic, it might help you adjust to the differences. Quite well-written!

Intersecting Geodesics by NancyBrown

Stuck in a time with a Jack who hasn't met him yet, all Ianto wants is a way home.

(janto & jackjohn | complete | mature | 37K)

Nik: There are numerous “Ianto gets sent into the future by the Rift or an artifact and meets past!Jack” fics existing in this fandom, but this is one of my favorites. For one, it’s written by the incomparable author who has many, many excellent fics that I like. (Their smut is seriously topnotch, especially for some of your kinkier tastes if said tastes exist.) The distanced younger Jack provides just the right amount of angst, and his eventual fall for Ianto is built-up just enough to work believably. The resolution is satisfying enough, and the author has a few other fics in this series to keep you going! 

For Captain and Cardiff by blackhemlock

"At midnight, a nationwide security alert was sent out... Torchwood London, demands all agencies' cooperation in issuing an arrest warrant for Ianto Merric Jones, 24, of Cardiff."

Torchwood Three's Archivist has gone rogue. But, he does have a very good reason, and he looks stunning in his new suit.

(janto & tenjack | complete | gen | 42K)

Nik: Admittedly, I will often be picky in my fics featuring the Tenth Doctor because of how he mistreated Jack, but this fic features a true-to-canon portrayal of Ianto and the Doctor that I adore. It does well in building up your expectations of Ianto and the Doctor’s encountering and then subverting it. There is also good room for Jack-Ianto angst, which only adds to my enjoyment of the fic. I don’t necessarily know how to explain it, but this fic also feels sleek and modern despite its timey-wimey elements.

What Dreams May Come by AVAAntares (@avaantares)

It's bad enough that a plague of alien parasites have fallen through the rift and are preying on Cardiff's citizens. It's worse that someone from Jack's past has come from the future to confront him on Earth. But when Jack himself is taken by the rift, Ianto and Gwen are forced to rely on the most unlikely of allies to keep Torchwood running without him.

Stranded in another century on a distant planet, Jack has only one hope of returning to Earth. But time travel with the Doctor has never been an exact science, and when he returns to Cardiff, things are not at all as he expects to find them...

(janto | complete | teen | 88K)

Nik: Honestly, I think one of my favorite parts of this fic may be the inclusion of an OC, Jamiya Thane, AKA Jack’s mother. I’m just a sucker for fandom’s takes on Jack’s canonical family and past as Javic Thane from Boeshane, and this plays into it well. It’s endearing to watch Jack’s found family, especially Ianto, interact with his mother. Also included is a rather brilliant time-travel mystery that will tug at your heartstrings on many levels. Excellent soft Jack-Ianto content in chapters and a creepy use of a one-off Doctor Who creature.

Ghost Story by Mad_Maudlin

I called out. "Would you like to hear a ghost story?"

For a moment Jack didn't move, and I knew he'd recognized my voice. After a moment he said, flatly, "I don't believe in ghosts."

"It's a complicated story," I admitted, and pulled the watch from my pocket by the chain. "And it starts with 'Long ago and far away.'"

(janto | complete | teen | 70K)

Nik: This fic! I passed this fic many times on my search for new fics to read, and the summary always threw me a bit, but when I decided to take a chance on it, I realized what I’d been missing out on. There’s so many fics in this fandom, and on this list, that take familiar tropes but twist them into something new, just like this fic. Without giving too much away, I can say that this fic features Time Lords, pocket watches, shifting POVs, and a COE fix-it, all packed with a brow-raising plot twist. It’s enough to make me forgive the first person POV, which I can usually not stand but actually works quite well for this fic! A fic worth reading at least once, if not many times. It feels so utterly unique!

Time Tracks by Cyborgtamaki (@cyborgtamaki) and thirteeninafez (@thirteeninafez)

It took him a second to realise what had happened; what had felt like hours while travelling through the rift shrunk itself in his head to a mere instant of searing gold. That’s when the flicker of the fire in front of him finally registered through his confused daze. In his haste to get away from the flames around him, he slipped and fell, scrambling back until he was a safe distance away from the smoke and the heat. It was only then that he took notice of the voices behind him. He turned towards the noise of a deep, northern voice spluttering and saying, confused and almost angry: “Who the hell are you?” The man rolled over onto his knees and stood up, looking around like he’d never seen a street before. “Jones.” He sounded uncertain but then spoke again with more confidence. “Ianto Jones.”

(janto & ninerose | complete | teen | 174K)

Nik: There’s many “Ianto travels with the Ninth Doctor and Rose” fics in this fandom, but this one is the longest, most recent, and one of the most excellent that I’ve read. The authors have written in-depth chapters of the Doctor Who Season 1 episodes we already know and adore as well as adding their own unique “episodes,” all of which are deeply enjoyable. There is excellent character interactions, specifically a wonderful Rose-Ianto friendship, and so much soft Jack-Ianto. The authors have, personally, promised several more installments coming by the end of the year or later, and they are sure to be worth the wait!

Club Wales by pocky_slash

In the wake of Jack's disappearance, Gwen finds comfort in a new friendship with Ianto. Gossip, bonding, and other hijinks of understanding ensue.

(gwenrhys & janto | complete | teen | 19K)

Nik: This author is single-handedly a Gwen-Ianto dynamic icon. Their grasp on Gwen and Ianto’s respective characterization is brilliant, and their friendship in this fic, and any fic the author writes, is well-fleshed out and believable enough for the moments we only really see on-screen briefly in the show. This fic, and overall series, serves as a compelling insight into how the team originally views Jack and how Gwen and Ianto grow closer. Gwen truly was one of Ianto’s big sister figures, which is excellently reflected in this fic. A must read!

Just this once by Beleriandings (@ultraviolet-eucatastrophe)

(Everybody lives.)

(Or: when a certain Doctor arrives to save Owen Harper from a stricken nuclear power station, it begins a chain of events that will lead Torchwood Three down a very different path. From time locks and telepathy to tea and coffee, high-speed chases to unresolved sibling issues, their new lives (and new and old loves) may be different, but their bonds of friendship and family grow stronger every day. But when every child on earth starts speaking with one voice, the team are torn apart again as they’re forced to fight for their lives, and to confront monsters they’d thought they’d left behind in the past. But with all of them working together – along with some allies they’ve made along the way – Torchwood Three will stop at nothing to save their friends and set the world to rights. The consequences will ripple out across the universe and into the distant future. But they have to start somewhere, and the present is as good a place as any.)

(janto & others | complete | teen | 239K)

Nik: Many fics are post-Exit Wounds and COE fix-its, at the same time, but dare I say that this one is the best? (Or one of the best at least.) The Tenth Doctor receives his own iconic “Everybody lives” moment, but that is only where this fic BEGINS. This beautiful monster, which I mean in the very best sense considering its length, traverses Exit Wounds, COE, and slightly Miracle Day and gives everyone a happy ending. In addition, the author, another friend of mine, I’ll be honest, manages to redeem and humanize Gray in a way I didn’t think possible, but I actually found myself liking him. This is definitely a must, must read, especially if you’re new to the fandom or just finished having your heart thrown out.

The Stars Might Stick You Where You Stand by methylethyl 

Following the fall of Torchwood One, Jack Harkness went to ask Torchwood Three for a job. He didn’t expect to fall a little bit in love with its director, the practical and ever-calm Ianto Jones. He also probably didn’t expect that Ianto Jones would end up holding the answers to his most precious secret.

(janto | complete | explicit | 20K)

Nik: I’ll be honestly - I’m a sucker for role reversal AUs in any fandom, and this is one fic I see rarely mentioned or recced, which I think is a damn shame. It is definitely in my top five fics; I adore it so much. Jack is cast in the role of Ianto, gunning for a job at Torchwood Three after the fall of Canary Wharf. His “Lisa” is his desperate, life-long search for his brother Gray who was taken by Torchwood when they were both children. Ianto is, obviously, the immortal director of Torchwood Three, but what makes him even more compelling is the lack of direct reference to his AU past. We don’t know who this Ianto Jones was before he, like Jack, arrived in Cardiff in the 1800s, newly-immortal and ensnared into working for Torchwood. Instead, this fic, and series, focuses on a stretch of episodes from Season 1 intermingled with elements from Season 2, as well as subverting the expected team relationships. Jack and Ianto are believably different but still realistic in their characterization, and look, I adore this AU, which I’ve already said. A personal favorite and must read!

Cling to the Ways of My Name by engagemythrusters ( @iianto-jones)

If Ianto Jones thought his legacy would die out with him in Thames House, he was dead wrong.

(janto & gwenrhys | complete | teen | 37K)

Nik: Hopefully, you’ve already read this fic by now. If not, may I dare ask what you’ve been doing with your life? This is one of my favorite fics of all-time in this fandom, as well as my favorite kidfic ever. It’s so well-written and just so damn unique. I cannot capture in words what makes it so special, although I will try. Ioan Jones is the sweetest janto baby ever, and I love him with all my heart. Jack’s adventures raising Ioan are just so endearing, and later installments, which feature Ianto, serve to satisfy the domestic Jack-Ianto as parents craving you might not even have known you had. There’s just so many little details about this fic I love, including but not limited to - Jack’s found family in the Joneses, Ioan-Anwen friendship, and Ioan loving blue. A definite must read fic to give you the serotonin you need.

Waking Gods by toldthestars 

Why are Ianto's dreams coming true? What's in the box with the symbol on it? Oh, and while we're at it, what's the meaning of the life?

(janto | complete | not rated | 7K)

Nik: This fic is another one with a completely unique premise in this fandom. In fact, there is only one other fic I’ve read that even gives me similar “vibes” for this fic. Here, Ianto suddenly finds himself gaining powerful, unexplainable abilities, essentially becoming a god, and oh my, this is excellent. Ianto is just trying to do good in the world, and the team’s growing fear and distrust of him and his power really sucker-punches you straight in the heart. It’s all so beautifully-written, with powerful imagery that left me awe-struck. The janto angst is oh-so-excellent. Reading this fic for the first time is an experience that I don’t believe can be replicated. 

fool me once, fool me twice by princessoftheworlds (aka me)

When, after the events at the House of the Dead, the Rift spits Ianto out on an alien planet a thousand years later, so begins a goose chase that will take him across the universe and across time until he finds Jack again.

(janto & others | complete | explicit | 52K)

Nik: What kind of fic writer would I be if I created a list of fic recs for Torchwood and did not include one of my own? I consider this fic my masterpiece. The House of the Dead!Ianto get sucked through the Rift and spat out across time and space, turned into another fixed point, as he begins his search for Jack. I don’t know if I can say much else without it sounding like bragging, but it features - in no particular order - a happy ending for one, Ianto getting some badass adventures of his own, a sorta redemption arc for John Hart, numerous references to Big Finish, and too many spinoffs with more to come! Give it a shot, why don’t you?

[bughead-in-the-comics]

If you had to imagine your dream Bughead panel, what would it look like?

Well, it’s just an idea, really, I haven’t thought about all the details yet. It’s sort of a mystery-adventure type of story that features not only Bughead, but their families as well. Yep. The Cooper-Jones clan without the messy Riverdale drama. It probably goes like this: FP Jones excitedly comes home one evening to announce that he has won tickets for a cruise. Gladys beams at the thought of not doing household chores for a week; Jughead imagines all the food he can eat at the buffet; and Jellybean, who seems to have miraculously worn a pair of star-shaped sunglasses and a cute flamingo-printed bathing suit while her mom and her brother were daydreaming, gives Hot Dog a high-five. 

On the day they board the ship to the Galapagos, the Jones family are surprised to find the Coopers there (all five of them, plus Caramel - because we can’t leave out Caramel. If Hot Dog’s on the trip, then Caramel has to be there too. Equality!). They exchange pleasantries, of course, and Betty explains to Jughead that her older brother Chic insisted on the trip because for the first time since he started working, he finally has enough time off to go on a vacation with them. The next set of panels will probably show both families enjoying the ship’s amenities: the mothers enjoying a massage at the spa, the fathers playing tennis at the courts, and the children having a blast at the pool while the pets are... I don’t know... sunbathing? Hahaha! It’s a comic. Anything’s possible!

But there has to be a twist, right? So, as it turns out, the cruise isn’t just a vacation for Chic. It’s part of an assignment. See, Chic is a secret agent and the mission he’s currently working on requires him to travel to the Galapagos because that’s where the bad people are secretly doing the bad stuff that he needs to resolve somehow. I don’t know what it is yet. I haven’t really thought about it, but it has to be something that’s related to Mr. Jones’ job too. Or Jughead. There has to be a reason why their family won the tickets to the same cruise, so everything ties well together. Anyway, I just want to show off Chic Cooper’s cool job and I think it’s also a good chance for Bughead’s sleuthing skills to come in to play. Polly’s a successful reporter too, so of course, she’ll come in handy in this mystery as well. And let’s not forget little Jellybean! She’s probably the smartest one in this group, so she’ll probably end up solving the whole thing herself... Scooby Doo-style. 

So basically, what I want is just for the Joneses and the Coopers to hang out on a cruise and have fun in a Caribbean paradise while helping Chic save the world. Something fun and wholesome. Kinda similar to the first Incredibles movie, but without the superpowers. Something like that, I guess. Preferably with lots of panels dedicated to Betty and Jughead being super detectives while casually throwing compliments towards each other. If there’s a panel with their three siblings and their pets exchanging knowing glances while Bughead flirt unknowingly, then that will make it even more perfect! Hahaha! How about you, pals n gals? Do you have a dream Bughead panel? Please do share it with us! ♥