#i watched the first nine seasons in less than two weeks- it was bad

[interpolationz]

you guys should be very thankful i wasn't online during my criminal minds phase

[hford0311]

Across the hall neighbor

Summary: Bucky is your across the hall neighbor, who you spend a lot of time with...when you're not on dates with other men. Bucky is always there to catch you when you fall and support you when you think you're on a high. Then, there was your current dating experience.

Pairings: fem!reader x oc; f!reader x bucky

Warnings: bruises, violence, mention of abuse, bucky and his vibranium arm cannot be messed with.

Word Count: 1.6k

***

Bucky listened closely - always did when he heard an unfamiliar voice in the building. A male's, flirtatious and smooth, he mentally noted and got up and peaked through his peephole. You were smiling up at the stranger as you stood in front of the door. "Thank you again," you breathed and grabbed your keys, toying with them. The male leaned down and kissed you. Bucky sighed and went back to his couch. It wasn't the first date that he watched end with you and most likely not the last. Did it make it any easier? No. No, it never did.

***

You and your neighbor were close, good friends. You ranted to him and had drinks with and the more rare grocery shopping. Nothing went beyond that, though, at least in real life. Bucky's fiction led to more but never let you know about it. Today was like most, the pair of you said hi and small talk when both of you left for work in the morning, eight to nine hours later, you found yourself planted on Bucky's couch with a drink in hand.

"I think he might be the one, Bucky." You smoothly and excitedly stated in your drunken form. He rolled his eyes and took another sip. "Yeah, okay." He stated with sarcasm. "I mean he-" he listened to your perfect date with now known man, Collin. It wasn't a new conversion. A rinse and repeat that happened every so many months. Bucky always took mental notes of the men you dated: what failed, what worked, how he turned you on or off, and other small details. Sometimes, after a breakup, when you'd end up with sobs on the couch, Bucky reminds you of any bad that the guy had and attempted to make you feel better. At the end of the however long a time period, you'd almost always end up on Bucky's couch, whether it was a great date or tragic ending.

Another two weeks went by, and Bucky noticed the quietness that filled his apartment more now. It had been a week, and he noticed your absence from his couch. He shrugged it off for a few nights before he started texting you about the newest and oddest leap of absence. Your replies filled with date details and how you needed to end the night at Collin's. When he did see you, the sleeves were all the way down to your palms, and you wore more pants than skirts or dresses. Had to be the seasons changing from fall to winter.

Then, a month. The morning small talk shortened, you were in a hurry every time. No more couch talks and drunken words thrown at each other either.

One Friday night, it drove him nuts too much. He missed you. He went to the door, glanced through the hole that showed your apartment door, and saw Collin towering over you. His mouth over your ear, hand gripping your wrist tightly. "I haven't, I promise. C'mon, let's get inside." You trying your best to speak calm, even though Bucky saw a bit of fear in your eyes. "Alright," your boyfriend grumbled, and you led him inside. More mental notes for Bucky.

Your ex-Soviet agent neighbor noticed how you came home less or even left earlier than normal over the past week. One day, he decided to do the same to catch up with you. As he locked his door, you came out. He smiled at you until he noticed the healing bruises that were exposed even under your tights. His next immediate thought was there were more under your sweater and jean jacket sleeves. "Haven't seen you lately, stranger," he jokingly chided. You quickly smiled him, "Yeah, just super busy lately with everything and anything." You replied, almost running out of breath how fast you said the words. "With, who, Chad--" "Collin...and partially, yes." You cut him off, beginning to go down the stairs. "Are you with Charlie tonight?" He quickly questioned, following you. "Collin, and no, Bucky."

"Come over tonight, we can catch up on that new show you've been begging me to watch with you." You internally cridged with guilt.

"I don't know, I'll think about it."

"We can order Chinese, the place with best rangoons." He sweetened. "On a diet, can't." You hurried out. Bucky stood defeated as you caught a cab out of the building. Never had you say no to rangoons. Nor making him watch a series, making him question what happened to humanity over the past 70 years. "Try again tomorrow," he mumbled to himself, walking towards the subway.

The following night, he woken from noises that were typically completely muffled to the point of silence for other neighbors, but not the one with super hearing. Yelling. The sounds of things being rumpled and thrown. A "get out" was yelled by you, and that's when he got out of bed, putting pants on before walking into the common hallway. He was just about to knock on your door when Collin walked out, glaring at Bucky. A second later, he saw a crying you by the door. "You ok? You wanna-" "I'm fine." You stated and shut the door before he could finish his sentence.

***

He knew he shouldn't. At the same time, he knew, he needed to. Bucky knocked on your door. His ears waiting to hear any response. Nada. One more set of knocks, two. Now there was shuffling around. "Y/n!" Bucky called with more raps. Bucky felt his heart rate quicken and his breathes deepen. Your door opened. "What do you want?" Collin stood, his body taking over the entry. Bucky had to resist the urge of punching the guy in the face. "I have some of Y/n's mail." He lied in a cold tone. "You couldn't just drop it off? Not making the hinges fall off the door?" Bucky's jaw tighten, so did his fists. "Next time." He briefly said, starring at the man that acted as if the apartment was his and not yours. "Well, where is it?"

"What?"

"Her mail."

"You know what, just tell her I have it and she can stop by to grab it when she can." Bucky started to walk back to his place. Collin rolled his eyes. "Just drop it off, she doesn't need to see you." His entire body clenched. "Listen buddy, I don't need to take this crap from you. Okay? Y/n can get her mail when you're not around." "Collin?" Your voice traveled to the hall. Collin sighed and shook his head, walking back in your apartment.

Two days later, a soft knock rapped on Bucky's apartment. He woke up to it. He raced to the door, opening to the point where he could've broken it. "Hi," he exhaled with a smile. "My mail?" You questioned, barely even making eye contact. Then, he noticed the dramatic eye make-up that was very much not your usual. "Um, yeah, about that," he pursed his lips. You sighed, "Bucky, don't ruin things over fake mail." That's when he saw it. A certain almost covered yellow greenish mark under your eyebrow. He softly touched your face, body acting before his words or maybe even part of his brain. You tried to hide your flinch. "I hit it on the counter. I was grabbing something on the floor and-" Bucky's hands moved to the end of your sleeve, pulled it up to your elbow. A combo of heeling and new bruises both the shape of finger tips and almost an entire hand. He was nearly shaking. "He can't do this to you." He growled.

The intercom from your apartment began ringing. "I have to-" You began to pull away from his soft grasp. "Is that him?" He began to stomp his way into the hall. "Bucky! Stop! He didn't mean it!" You called to him, following him down the stairs as if you could make him stop. "No! No, Y/n. Don't make excuses for him. He did mean it and no, he won't stop." His anger spewing. "Bucky, he's-" The words were no longer being heard. Collin was standing there in front of the glass locked door. Bucky pulled the door, letting it slam shut before you made it down there. A glove covered fist slammed into Collin's face, making him stumble a few steps back. More punches were exchanged, swinging arms, and you shouted at both of them to stop. "She doesn't," punch, "deserve," smack, "any of that!" Three more fist marks. "A real man" nose bleeding, "doesn't hit," a swift kick, "women!" A siren rang. Bucky took a step back Collin dusted himself off, wiped his bloody nose, and walked away. "She wasn't worth it anyways." Bucky nearly booked it, you grabbed his bicep. "Don't." You breathed.

That night, Bucky's apartment was finally filled with you again. Tears streaming down your cheeks as all the secrets of abuse were now coming out. Your makeup gone, bruised eye exposed, your arms wrapped around one of his couch pillows. Chinese on the coffee table. Bucky on the other end of the couch. After twenty minutes of this, Bucky scooted to the middle and wiped your tears. "You never deserved what he did. He didn't deserve you. One. Single. Bit." You leaned in and kissed him. His lips softly returning the action. The kiss broke and you looked into his eyes. "Give me what I deserve, James." He stroked your hair behind your ear and rested his forehead on yours. He leaned in more and sensually kissed you. "You deserve," lips connecting, "a man that," his lips trailed down, "will treat you like," back to the lips, "a queen." You hummed then giggled a little. "You can do that." He froze a little. You grabbed his chin, making him look up at you. "Bucky, you are that man."

[supremechancellorrex]

I've been thinking about what the Bad Batch means to me these past few weeks and things just don't quite sit right. When I started watching the Clone Wars, it felt like a lot of love and care had been poured into the project. The clones had unique personalities built from the ground up, with even minor characters getting quirks. Hevy only appeared in two episodes, yet is so loved. Hardcase is missed despite only really appearing in one arc because of expert character crafting and real, actual effort with the writing.

The point of the Clone War was that the clones were individuals, they had agency and they could have an impact on their lives and others. Referred to as 'property', with no representation or rights, they are slave soldiers in function, who are biologically identical although at times with slight variation, but their personalities and motivations matter and have weight. This is why Fives nearly ruins Palpatine's plans. This is why Rex is able to resist the inhibitor chip in Order 66 and help save Ahsoka.

This is why I'm not sure I can forgive the Bad Batch.

Spitting on Grandpa

When the Bad Batch started, I was initially quite excited because it was advertised as a sequel to the Clone Wars. The first episode opens up with the title 'The Clone Wars' fading into the Bad Batch, but the show is anything but because the 'regs', as normal clones have been dubbed, don't matter now. Instead, the only characters with agency are a special group of clones who mostly don't look like the clones based on Jango Fett (Temuera Morrison) or even scientifically fit the basic definition of what a 'clone' is.

How is this not meant to be insulting for TCW and the Clone Fandom? I watch normal clones like Commander Wilco get shot in the face. I watch Mayday choke and die for Crosshair's development. I watch Rex play second fiddle to the Bad Batch on screen, the man and leader who used to always say "I'm always first, kid" and take the reins. I watch Cody appear for an episode only to not appear again this season and have no impact on the narrative other than Crosshair's development. Can 'regs' no longer change the world? Do the 'boring', 'regular' slave soldiers have no impact anymore?

Echo: "The fate of all the clones is now sealed because of us."

When it comes to normal clones impacting the narrative, the closest we get is Rex's resistance network, which features actual clones actually doing something. Yet apparently an episode about the Bad Batch discovering an island paradise world and battling a tsunami deserves more screen time than seeing how the 'regs' set that one up. Even this plot point is less about finally saving Howzer and normal clones like him, and more about Echo not being with the Bad Batch and further setting up the plot regarding Tech and Crosshair. The normal clones remain non-entities outside of the Bad Batch's development, they have no agency beyond this.

This is why we see stock reg clone characters bully the Bad Batch in the Season 1 opening, because despite them all being slaves under the thumb of fascism and the fact normal clones treated Ninety-Nine (the beloved hunchback clone from TCW Season 3) fine, it's the Bad Batch's plight that only matters now, their persecuted perspective on being special and better than the regs, regs that are now treated as old news, an afterthought. The world feels small, and inexcusably less richer than it was.

Essentially, we're no longer allowed to see what the reg clones motivations are, why there are reg clones that actually, canonically, dislike the Bad Batch as opposed to Ninety-Nine. People like to speculate, but on screen we are not shown or told in TBB. We're also not shown why all the named clones from Howzer, Mayday, Fireball, Gregor and Nemec to Cut, Cody and Rex never had issues with the differences other than they're the good regs I guess. Hell, even Cody and Mayday's remaining squad say nothing of Crosshair's mutations, not even one catty comment.

Conclusion

So, what does this mean? The Bad Batch steals the clones' agency and makes it their own. They wear the clone identity, but refuse to help normal 'reg slave' clones that look like actual clones in favour of focusing on themselves and their 'more important' personal problems. The Bad Batch are special not because of who they are or that they've worked hard, but because they look different from other clones, because they're just more capable and have special abilities. It's not who you are that counts, it's what you are.

And, now, I even see fans doing what TCW told us not to, disregarding normal clones, 'explaining' why the Bad Batch are fine to leave the reg clones to die because they called them "The Sad Batch" one time. Somehow the Bad Batch undoes all of TCW's work, stripping the clones of their agency and making them into just victims sleepwalking into extinction as we wait for the Bad Batch to consider trying to actively save them.

Echo: "The fate of all the clones is now sealed because of us."

And, then the rest of TBB go cave exploring and holidaying on Pabu. This series might as well be about natborns.

[authortobenamedlater]

My thoughts on Picard.

(This is later than expected. I had it in my drafts and forgot to hit post.)

It’s starting off strong, but last season did too and then it fell way the heck off the cliff. Last season however did not have the entire TNG cast going for it.

I am HERE for Picard and Riker’s grumpy old Starfleet officers routine. I’m here for ALL OF IT. I could watch it for an hour straight every week and consider that quality television. If you want to reply to this and tell me I have bad taste, I already know that and you won’t shame me into not having bad taste.

Something is up with Captain Shaw. The show deliberately made a point that he’s rude for seemingly no good reason. The guy is a jerk to everyone including his own first officer which makes no sense because…he’s the captain. If he doesn’t like Annika Seven Shots he can get a new XO. I expect he knows something about Crusher’s predicament and that Picard and Riker are going after her. And maybe Shaw’s also in on why she’s out there in the first place.

Marina Sirtis is in the trailers so Deanna’s feud with Will can’t be THAT bad, but what is it? What did he do to make his wife AND his kid want a break from him that he hasn’t already done in the past three-plus decades? Or is Will faking the spat to get Picard to feel less guilty about this little jaunt?

Even though she has her struggles, it’s nice to see Seven of Nine made a sort of life for herself Alpha Quadrant. I always loved her character even though I didn’t love how Voyager used her.

On the other side of the coin is poor Raffi who can’t seem to catch a break. Obviously she’s with Starfleet somehow, but I get the feeling she’s still kind of disgraced. I hope by the end of the season she gets some happiness and gets to meet her granddaughter. She’s so maternal and nurturing under all that toughness and she would be such a fun grandmama.

Raffi is my favorite of the new Picard characters if you can’t tell.

The Neo-Constitution class callback to TOS? I love it. Maybe it’s cheesy. I still love it.

The latest in the unending parade of reinvented Starfleet uniforms is sharp too.

GEORDI HAS A LITTLE GIRL. ❤️ Mr says Memory Alpha lists another daughter working at the Fleet Museum and a son somewhere. So where is Mrs. La Forge? Will we meet her? Geordi the family man makes me smile.

Now the biggest question: How did Beverly end up with a son the crew didn’t know about? I have two possibilities.

First, her attempt to be lovers with Picard was more successful than anyone realized including them.

Second, and this one is Mr’s, Beverly’s “son” is really an android and because synths are illegal in the Federation now, she had to go into hiding with him and not tell anyone what happened.

How Android Jack came to be is anyone’s guess. First option is simpler, second is a more obvious explanation for why Beverly has been out of contact for two decades.

I do feel the need to point out though, if Jack is only 20 years old Beverly would have been near- or post-menopausal when he was born. Menopause miracle babies do happen and space magic medicine can do a lot but I don’t think it can hold off The Change indefinitely.

The same can be said of the Riker kids, but Deanna is half Betazoid so maybe that has something to do with it.

[charthanry]

TAG 9 PEOPLE YOU WANT TO GET TO KNOW BETTER

I was tagged by @hughungrybear :)

THREE SHIPS

Current or all-time? I’ll just go with the three that immediately come to mind:

Pat and Pran, Bad Buddy (obvs)

Steve and Tony, MCU

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, MDZS

*Honorable mention to Jake and Amy from Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

FIRST SHIP

Ever? Hmm, before Pacey and Joey it was Anne and Gilbert from the Anne of Green Gables series (books AND Kevin Sullivan’s tv adaptation from the mid-1980s). Gilbert Blythe was my first crush. Anne and Gil’s relationship taught my younger and impressionable self that love was friendship caught on fire and to never settle for anything less; that you can fall both slowly and ardently. Gilbert and Anne set the goalpost for all my future ships, with Gilbert proving that sometimes the nice guy does get the girl.

Also, I cannot imagine a more picturesque backdrop to fall in love in than Prince Edward Island. It’s on my bucket list to visit.

LAST SONG

I’ve been listening to a lot of K-Drama OST lately. I usually have one song on loop for weeks until it wears itself out on my spotify. Last month it was “With You” by Jimin and Ha Sung Woon from Our Blues (fantastic drama btw, I ugly cried in nearly every episode). This week it’s “Goodbye” by WENDY from The Beauty Inside.

LAST MOVIE

I’m embarrassed to admit this, but just yesterday I rewatched Leap Year on Netflix. I shamefully also own the DVD. Gah, *hides face* don’t look at me. 

It’s a cheesy, clichéd, and improbable romcom about an American who impulsively follows her boyfriend to Ireland to propose to him on February 29th. Cue the endless mishaps and series of incredibly manufactured bad luck. She ends up falling instead for the stranger who helps her on the way. The script is silly and absurdly unrealistic, but damn if the chemistry and charm of the two leads doesn’t save the day. 

My favorite scene is when Matthew Goode’s ‘Declan’ wakes up alone on a bus stop bench and realizes that Amy Adam’s ‘Anna’ has left him without waking him to say goodbye. The disappointment and regret in his body language is so palpable that Anna who is standing behind him watching, feels every ounce of his turmoil. She studies him for a beat before breaking the moment with banter. And damn, Matthew conveyed all this just by the way he stands and very subtly slumps his shoulders in defeat. And Anna’s reaction to seeing him this way is just...so telling that you want to shake her and say c’mon girl, you’re chasing the wrong guy. 

It doesn’t hurt that this era of young Matthew Goode is totally my aesthetic. Just look at him. Add to all this the brogue-y accent and WOOF.

CURRENTLY READING

I consume written media the same way I consume music and shows. I devour it. I practically subsist on Ao3 content alone. Lately, it’s been a lot of Red, White & Royal Blue fics in anticipation and giddiness for the upcoming movie.

CURRENTLY WATCHING

I’m in the middle of season 2 of my annual West Wing binge-watch. I’m by no means into politics, but I have yet to discover better American television than Aaron Sorkin’s The West Wing. It’s nearly perfect in its execution.

Currently waiting on a lot of shows to finish airing so that I can binge watch (I’m not making the mistake I did with Bad Buddy by watching it every week, I nearly died). On my list: 

Never Let Me Go

My School President

Crash Course in Romance

Moonlight Chicken

CURRENTLY CONSUMING

Right now? Snacking on Irvins Salted Egg Salmon Skin chips that I got from Costco. It’s deceptively bad for you (high in both cholesterol and sodium content), but the ‘dangerously addictive’ boast on the packaging is wildly accurate.

CURRENTLY CRAVING

Food-wise? A big bowl of homemade pho with all the accoutrements. 

ONWARD TAGS

@depressingly-lonely @hereforlou @reasonablysurmised @aliceisathome @keelpay @inhumanevoid @frostluvrs @faillen @leconcombrerit @rosetintednerdglasses and anyone else that wants to join!

[qnewsau]

MAFS groom Stephen gives relationship update after split

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/mafs-groom-stephen-gives-relationship-update-after-split/

MAFS groom Stephen gives relationship update after split

Married At First Sight gay groom Stephen has shared his relationship status and revealed if he’s still in touch with the hairdresser he flirted with during his TV marriage to ex-husband Michael.

The finale of MAFS Australia is on Nine tonight. But unfortunately Michael Felix and Stephen Stewart, the show’s first two gay grooms in many, many seasons, didn’t last the distance.

A few weeks ago, the pair both wrote ‘leave’ during a commitment ceremony after they just couldn’t find any chemistry together.

Their relationship was never the same following a dispute after Stephen hit on a hairdresser during and after a MAFS photoshoot.

Michael was upset, but Stephen told him that having had an “instant attraction” to someone else was a “lightbulb moment” that things between them weren’t working.

Speaking to Yahoo! Lifestyle, Stephen revealed whether or not he’d stayed in contact with the anonymous man since leaving the show.

“I messaged him once the episode came out, I found him on Instagram and sent him a message. I just apologised for getting involved in all of this,” Stephen explained.

“But other than that, no, we’ve had no communication.”

‘That did cause a rift with us’

Stephen, who’s also a hairdresser, went on to say the spark he felt with someone he’d “known for 30 seconds” was a bad sign for his MAFS marriage.

“We could have a laugh and we had common interests and it was just an easy conversation,” he explained.

“And I think that for me was like a [realisation that] it shouldn’t be this hard with Michael. Any other relationship or friendship that’s ever grown into anything, it doesn’t take this much work.

“I think deep down Michael obviously knew that. We caught up at a later date. We were sitting there having a drink and it was like, we really just have no chemistry.

“We’ve got nothing in common and it’s really hard to try and converse. So for me, that’s what it was.

“It was less about having a spark or wanting to flirt or wanting to pursue anything there and more about like, in our marriage, what we’re missing is just common ground and a friendship really.

“I think rewatching it and everything that’s come with this show and the interviews and the storyline that’s been portrayed, that did cause a rift with us.

“We’re such different people so it was always going to be hard to keep a friendship.”

Stephen gives update on relationship status

Stephen told the outlet that right now he’s seeing someone new and they watched MAFS together.

“I’ve actually met someone, so that’s been awesome to have someone to kind of rewatch [MAFS with],” he said.

“It’s a pretty unique experience being in a new relationship and watching your partner get married to someone else.”

Married At First Sight wraps up tonight (March 25) on Nine.

Lots more on MAFS:

MAFS blow-up after groom Stephen flirts with crew member

Groom Michael crushed after husband-to-be does a runner

‘Anything for ratings’: Runaway gay groom Simon slams MAFS

MAFS gay groom says show was ‘torture’ and gave him PTSD

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[jemariel]

Roshambo by jemariel * destiel Words: 17,631 Rating: Explicit Tags: Canonverse, no timeline. New-human Cas in an early-seasons vibe motel room background case romp. POV alternates between Cas and Sam with Dean coming in at the end.

Summary:

Do you know how hard it is to find a motel room with three beds? Somebody's gonna have to share with the newly fallen angel.

So Sam and Dean settle it with their time-honored tradition: Rock-Paper-Scissors.

Dean loses. A lot.

But maybe that's not such a bad thing.

Excerpt:

“Dude. Always with the scissors.”

It’s not really a game anymore. Hasn’t been for years. It’s not even really an unbiased means of deciding who has to do the unwanted task—like cleaning up ghoul guts or crawling down into the sewers. It’s more like a battle of wills. Who wants to do the thing less (and who is more stubborn about it) versus who’s willing to take one for the team.

Dean usually loses. He will throw a predictable scissors nine times out of ten, and Sam is just enough of a wiley little brother to let him get away with it.

In any case, it lets Dean keep up appearances, with a whiny “aww mannn” and a little light foot stomping. And Sam keeps up his end of the bargain, gloating just enough, flopping down on the bed that he gets all to himself tonight, stretching out with a satisfied sigh as he watches Dean point his finger in Cas’s face.

“You better keep your knees to yourself this time, Jackie Chan” he says, a low threat before he disappears into the bathroom with his toothbrush bag. (None of the Winchester men would ever allow the word “toiletries” to pass their lips. Dad had called it their toothbrush bag, and that was that.)

Cas stands at the T-junction between the beds, nonplussed, shifting his weight from foot to foot and fiddling with his own second-hand toothbrush bag. Technically, it’s a pencil case they’d grabbed at Goodwill for fifty cents, along with a few T-shirts and a couple pairs of jeans that only mostly fit. He looks like a proper Winchester now, or so Dean had said with both hands clapped to his shoulders. “Just gotta get you some real boots, and you’ll be all set.”

Cas had frowned down at his pre-worn Converse All Stars. “But these are comfortable.”

A few weeks later, Cas had been the fastest of them in outrunning a werewolf, which meant he’d been the first to grab the rifle out of the trunk. He’d nailed the beast right between the eyes with a silver slug mere seconds before it snagged Dean’s ass in its teeth. There had been no more talk of replacing his shoes.

The trouble with being a three-man band, though, is that rooms with three beds are scarce and more expensive than rooms with two. As kids, Sam and Dean had shared a lot, and by the time Dean was breaking out in puberty, Dad was leaving them alone for long-enough stretches that it hardly mattered. One of them could always sleep on the floor or in the Impala on the rare occasion he was in the same town. Maybe that was when Sam and Dean had started their little ritual of rock-paper-scissors. Sam sure as hell remembered winning the bed more than half the time.

In any case, their rooms had always had two beds. It never even occurred to them to ask for anything else until Cas started traveling with them. Three men in a two-queens room got them the occasional odd look, but it hadn’t actually mattered while Cas was all juiced up with angelic glory. 

Then he fell human.

And that has opened a whole new can of worms.

Keep reading on Ao3...

Tag list below the cut, let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post fics in the future (or if you're on th

@magnificent-winged-beast @starsinursa @silvie111 @gneisscastiel @yourspecialeyes @bend-me-shape-me @weathergirl83 @daughter-of-the-rain-and-snow @maliciouslycreative @suckerfordeansfreckles @emblue-sparks @rosemoonweaver @helianthus21 @paperwhitenarcissus @maiosaurus @naruhearts @super-powerful-queen-slayyna @anironundomiel-blog1 @jasminrogue @onsarah @cassbutt-and-the-righteousbi @elanor-n-evermind @sharkfish @fangirlingtodeath513 @angelarbaugh @psychoticblackhappiness @holyllamabananaclam-blog @lanaserra @freckles-and-wings @7faerielights @casbean @destielhoneybee @feraladoration @deaneatscake @fuckedupasusual @generaldeliciousness @bre95611 @psychicbouquetblaze-stuff @lizleeillustration @deanandkastiel @hexentaenzerin @peacewhendone @nickelkeep @ellen-of-oz @malmuses @ltleflrt @archiivael @idaaeri @kazshero @depairt

[raysofcrosby]

it’s been eight years since caroline marsh watched matthew tkachuk pack up his old ‘96 dodge ram and drive away from their hometown. it’s been eight years since she watched him chase his dream, all while leaving her behind to pick up the pieces. it’s been eight years since life shot it’s biggest knuckle puck at her, changing her life forever at a time when she thought she had it all. and here he was…back in their small hometown. no longer the 17-year-old boy who she had loved more than anything, but a man who had accomplished one of his childhood dreams…and had unknowingly accomplished the other, eight years earlier– becoming a father. there will always be a piece of her heart that belongs to matthew tkachuk, but she’s not the same girl he left behind all those years ago. a lot can change in eight years, but maybe it’s true what they say. what’s meant to be…will always find a way.

| playlist | sneak peek | series preview | ** indicates bonus chapters

* last updated: april 24th, 2022 *

part one – 4 seconds and 1427 miles

in which matthew tkachuk’s entire season is at stake over four seconds and a little trash talk– resulting in a late night drive and a red eye flight.

part two – bad news brady

in which caroline marsh’s date is crashed by the middle tkachuk sibling who comes bearing some world crashing news.

part three – curiosity killed the cat

in which matt leaves the house for the first time in a week and finds himself bumping into caroline in the middle of the sandwich meat section…and a little boy excited about hockey cards.

part four – loose lips sink ships

after a stressful week, things take a turn for the worst when caroline’s carefree grocery shopping trip turns into her worst nightmare. but when night falls and she indulges in one too many glasses of wine, she ends up making what could be a fateful mistake.

part five – more treats than tricks

it’s halloween and matt makes well on his promise to help ethan work on his wrist-shot before trick-or-treating and a night of passing out candy to trick-or-treaters leaves matt feeling a little nostalgic for halloween’s past. and when the night comes to end, he gets a little halloween surprise of his own.

part six – count your blessings...or your secrets

a stressful few weeks full of changes and frustration leaves matt feeling less than thrilled for the thanksgiving holiday and having more questions than answers. but another day helping ethan work on hockey gives matt more than he was expecting and changes everything he ever knew.

part seven – eight years earlier...

the summer before senior year is going to be great. family trips with the tkachuks, days spent lounging at the pool and quality time with matt before he heads off to ontario– caroline is ready for it all. until small experiences start to add up and she finds out some news that will change everything. but when reality comes crashing down, caroline finds herself making one big decision that changes everyone’s lives and turns into one huge secret that they’ve all sworn to keep.

part eight – should i stay or should i go?

caroline and matt try to recover from a long overdue conversation gone wrong, where things just continue to get worse on both ends. matt makes a phone call to an old friend to get some fatherly advice and is stuck with a decision to make.

part nine – keep this love in a photograph

still reeling from betrayal, chantal gives matt an overdue gift that leads him down a road to all the things he missed. after some advice, he ends up back at caroline’s door and the two have a much needed, second conversation, finding himself wanting to mend the wounds from the last eight years.

part ten – fun, games and starting over

an unexpected visitor comes out to join the family outing at ethan’s hockey game. but a post game dinner celebration leaves matt and caroline wondering about how things could’ve been different.

part eleven – birthday revelations

a conjoined birthday party means gifts and…a cupcake fight? matt has a conversation with the most unexpected person, leaving him to ask himself just what he sees happening for the future. the families watch brady and the blues take on a familiar foe, leaving the crowd riled up and as the night draws to a close, caroline pulls him aside to give him one last birthday gift.

part twelve – safe and sound

it’s new year’s eve which means a new year and new beginnings are on the horizon. what starts off as a fun and relaxing day with family, quickly turns into a race against time in the matters of life and death. and when tensions come to the boil, matt’s left at a crossroads of whether to go with what feels right and what’s the right thing to do…but both roads lead him exactly where he wants to be at the end of the night.

part thirteen – the morning after

it’s the morning after a hospital stay and matt and caroline find themselves subject to…interesting converstions with ethan– who makes quite the unsual request. matt let’s ethan in on his secret to staying cool and calm whenever he finds himself in a frustrating situation and a persistent jonathan leaves caroline finding solace in the four walls of the tkachuk family home.

part fourteen – consequences

matt’s night out with friends turns into a frantic, drunken 2 am unannounced visit to caroline’s after learning some unnerving news and things get way out of hand. chantal helps ease his fears with another overdue gift. and on his apology tour the next night, matt and caroline sit down to put everything out in the open…but unbeknownst to them, they’re not alone. and as the night draws to a close, caroline is faced with a horrifying discovery.

part fifteen – may the truth set you free

the weather is getting colder as everyone’s driving around town searching for ethan. a short trip down memory lane sparks something in matt’s mind, giving him an idea as to where ethan could be. ethan reveals he knows everyone’s big secret and matt is faced with trying to figure out how to help him heal. and when faced with the harsh reality of the aftermath of last nights events…caroline makes a big decision.

part sixteen – you got me

after housing ethan at the tkachuk household for two days, matt takes notice of just how miserable both ethan and caroline are and takes it upon himself to step in and intervene as peacemaker for them and their families as well…with only one condition. matt learns of his fate for the rest of the season.

part seventeen – call it what you want

while ethan is at an appointment, matt and care have an important conversation about what they’re going to do when it comes to letting the world know their news. matt tells care and ethan about his eventual return to calgary. ethan wants to spend more time with matt and matt’s left wondering where he stands with care.

part eighteen – almost is never enough

it’s the week of valentine’s day and an accidental injury during an after school rink session leaves ethan with a black eye and matt left to tell caroline what happened. ethan feeling insecure about his black eye asks matt for advice on what to get a girl for valentine’s day and matt’s more than willing to help him after gaining some insight on how valentine’s day in the marsh home usually goes. ethan delivers some shocking news to caroline both. caroline receives a heartfelt gift and dinner from matt and ethan and when the night comes to a close, matt’s left struggling with his own feelings and where exactly they fit in.

part nineteen – take a break

matt and caroline have an important conversation regarding ethan and when matt tries to have his own conversation, it results in them taking the first steps of getting matt his rights. tempers fly at a youth hockey game and ethan wants matt to teach him how to fight, despite caroline’s displeasure.

part twenty – i heard goodbye

a hot day out in the garden quickly turns steamy indoors, with matt and caroline finally giving in to the tension that’s been building for months…only for the euphoria of the moment to come crashing down and leading caroline into the arms of the one person she knows she can count on.

part twenty-one – here comes goodbye

after a conversation with andrew, caroline is ready to confront both jonathan and matt about what happened. matt gets surprised by a confrontation with heather after she shows up to his house unannounced where the two come to an understanding about his feelings and role in what had happened between him and caroline. tired of her running away and mad from his conversation with heather, matt takes matters into his own hands minutes before emma’s bridal party starts and confronts caroline, giving her an ultimatium. reeling from the aftermath, caroline confesses to jonathan what happened between her and matt and confronts heather about her going to matt’s house, resulting in an emotional blow up between the two lifelong friends. at the end of it all, caroline is left with the reality of what has happened and seeks help from an unlikely source.

part twenty-two – this is me trying

matt kept his word when he said he’d give caroline all the space she needed and now it’s three weeks later and their day-to-day lives have moved away from the routine they’d become so accustomed to. caroline struggles to find the words she wants to say in her much needed and deserved conversation with matt, as well as just when to have it. it isn’t until an impromptu speech at an important appointment and some choice words from ethan after a hockey game, that caroline finds herself needing to get her thoughts in order and knows just the place to go. one block down, matt can’t sleep and takes a late night drive.

part twenty-three – begin again

time dwindled down fast and now it’s time for matt to head back to calgary, leaving both his family, caroline and ethan behind. not wanting to go back to calgary without leaving some things unsaid, matt finds himself spending his last night in st louis with caroline and ethan, and after promising to spend his last day in st louis with ethan, he finds another way to have his much needed conversation.

part twenty-four – till forever falls apart

with matt back in calgary, caroline and ethan are left trying to adjust to their new normal, which is proving more difficult than expected. a close betrayal introduces the world to the family's secret, creating chaos in ways ethan, caroline and matt weren't ready for. matt worries that the chaos might change caroline's mind about their future.

part twenty-five – last kiss

caroline and ethan step foot in calgary for the first time with matt there to greet them at the airport. at an organized dinner, ethan’s introduced to extended family, while caroline gets some insight from someone who’s been close to matt since he started playing in calgary. what’s supposed to be a post-game celebration turns south quick by an unsuspected guest, leaving caroline questioning whether or not her and matt are doing the right thing with their relationship. matt and ethan celebrate caroline on mother’s day and caroline gives matt an out that’s his for the taking if he wants it.

part twenty-six – you are the reason

while he doesn’t want to, matt fulfills caroline’s request and takes time to decide whether he wants to have a life with her and ethan or to take the out she gave him. caroline has second thoughts about her proposition, while she and ethan are still having trouble adjusting to matt’s absence. it’s time for game six– an important game to both brothers– one wins and one looses, but at the end of the night, there’s still an important decision to be made and the choice could make or break everything.

epilogue – always been you

caroline and matt have finally found themselves on the same page regarding their relationship and with that stressor behind, they’re free to spend time with each other and their families, while trying to work around their situation once the summer ends and their separate day to day lives come back in full swing. six months after the conference championship, caroline had a sudden realization that changes everything and come the following fall, she and ethan find themselves adjusting to a big change, but one that’s worth leaving everything behind for.

** a wltay: au-verse – eight years earlier...

when small experiences throughout the summer before senior start adding up, caroline and matt find out some news that could change their lives forever.

** bonus chapter #1 – hey now, you're an all-star

ethan and caroline get to tag along with matt to the 2025 all-star game, where ethan’s on the hunt for one very specific player to sign his jersey– nathan mackinnon. while on the ice during an event, ethan lets slip a secret about caroline, successfully embarrassing her in the process. matt gets to experience seeing ethan enjoy all of the things he got to do as a kid with his dad.

** bonus chapter #2 – i cross my heart

from the moment matthew and caroline made the jump to start dating again, there’s only been one thing on his mind– marrying his childhood sweetheart and the girl he’s loved for as long as he could remember. ask her parents for their blessing? check. buy the ring she’s always wanted? check. plan a proposal with the help of ethan and their family and friends? check. plan the wedding of her dreams and maybe down a little too much wine to destress? double check. now all there’s left to do is bring the wedding to life and be surrounded by their close friends and family as their fairytale ending comes true, and to make a special announcement that signifies this is just the beginning for their little family.

** bonus chapter #3 – two pink lines

with their wedding two weeks away, matt, caroline and ethan have a lot to look forward to: the wedding, the honeymoon, their first summer vacation as an official family and then settling into their new home in calgary. but a nagging feeling days before they're set to fly home to st. louis for the wedding has caroline wondering if maybe it wasn't just the three of them after all...but four. and when the tests she takes with matthew by her side in the bathroom of their empty apartment, all turn positive, they take their first steps onto the journey of welcoming another baby into the family. From 12 weeks all the way to 39, her first week home and four months later it's not all a smooth ride, but in the end when they welcome the brand new addition to their family of three, they discover it was all worth it in the end.

** bonus chapter #4 – first date jitters

12 going on 13, home for the summer and surrounded by friends and family– there’s a lot that ethan’s got lined up for his summer vacation. but there’s one important thing on his 12-year-old mind that he’s finally old enough to do, and that’s go on a date with his childhood best friend, former teammate and first ever crush– melody hastings. and when she says yes, he’s on top of the world. until it comes for his first ever date and he realizes that not only is he really nervous, but his parents and baby sister are going to be there the entire time too. what could be worse? ask matt and caroline who have to watch their firstborn take his first step into the world of relationships while trying not to completely embarrass him.

** a wltay christmas special – all i want for christmas is you

it’s christmas time in the tkachuk household and the holiday season is in full swing! eight stockings, eight pairs of matching pajamas, specialized ornaments on the tree picked out during a beloved family tradition–it’s a very merry time indeed. the countdown to christmas morning is ongoing and it’s a fun, tradition filled time where there’s nothing but love and family surrounding them as matt and caroline continue to make longlasting and heartwarming memories to last a lifetime.

[highpope]

pieced together pt. one

posting here too because not that many people have seen it also sorry for the weird spacing idk what’s going on

JJ Maybank x pogue reader - season 2 fic

spoiler warning!

You laid in bed watching the rain hit your windows, the radio downstairs faintly describes the fate of the world. You can’t make out complete sentences without straining, but you have heard enough from the last few days to know there were no updates about John B and Sarah. The radio has been on for days on end, your parents not wanting to miss any possible update about your friends or the storm that seemed never-ending. It was like it rained for years. It was a constant reminder of the night your two best friends were driven out into the storm and everything changed. You could hear Shoupe’s words in the back of your mind, “we lost ‘em' ' on a constant loop. You could see Kiara’s face and JJ’s hands and Pope’s heart shatter. Like all the stars had come falling down and you were the only one left to pick up all the pieces. You prayed this was all a nightmare. You could wake up and not only would they both be here, but you’d all be safe. You would give up the gold a hundred times over if it meant John B and Sarah would be home.

Both Pope and Kie’s parents had called your mom every night since that day. When she thought you were asleep, she would creep down the stairs and sit in the kitchen and cry, praying they had some good news. Something that could take away some of the pain you were in. But she couldn’t, no one could. You had to hear half the town talk about John B like he was a murderer like he kidnapped Sarah like he was some delusional kid from the cut. All while you knew the Cameron’s were roaming free and receiving sympathy for what they’re going through. It made you sick to think about. They had a private funeral for Sarah. People gave their condolences and spoke so kindly about her. They scoffed at her recent behavior and her newfound friendship from “those dirty pogues.”

Sometime around day two, your mom came into your room asking if you had heard from JJ. He had been with the Heyward’s up until that morning when he’d completely disappeared.

For a second, you felt something other than grief, knowing he had been with Pope and not his dad, but that was short-lived. You tried to imagine how peaceful it would have been under different circumstances, a world in which he was always safe. One where Luke Maybank had no control over his life. You wanted to get lost in that daydream, live in that alternative reality for a while. He wouldn’t have to keep a duffel bag full of clothes and cash under your bed for when things got bad. He wouldn’t have to know how to do stitches on himself or how to pop a dislocated shoulder back in place. He’d be safe. He’d be happy. She asked again if you had heard from JJ, snapping you back to reality. (you had not). You watched as her forehead creased and her lips straightened into a thin line, like something in her had broken too.

She hurts just as much as you do. At first, you contributed that to her not being able to take away your pain, which is part of it. But you later realized she’s lost a person, too. You had known John B since grade school, there were pictures of the group of you sitting on your swing set in your backyard at age nine. Ones of you, JJ, John B, and Pope asleep in your living room after attempting to build a fort. He stayed for dinners and birthday parties. She watched us grow up, every first day of school, soccer game, fishing tournament. Our families had somehow combined over the years. Not only does your mom hurt for you, but she lost a child. And that weight is heavier than anything.

You stopped crying by day three. Nothing left. You were completely and utterly numb but consumed by loss all at the same time. You hadn’t initially worried about JJ. He did this. He disappeared for a little, to clear his head, but he always came back. He never stayed away for more than three days. That’s how long it took for him to feel balanced again, maybe less, but never more. He said it was because he couldn’t get a burger as good as the ones at The Wreck anywhere else in the world, but you knew how much he loved the outer banks and the people there. You also knew that he’d never leave without you. And if he absolutely had to, he would at least say goodbye. He had to, he promised. You held on to that every time his phone went straight to voicemail. And when days four and five came and went and you still haven’t heard from him, you were worried. He should’ve crawled through your window in yesterday’s clothes with a few more scratches on his arm than he left with, but his eyes would glow a little brighter and he would still smile when you insisted he spends the night. So, when you cracked your window open and slept with your bedside lamp on (so that he could see the light from outside) and he still wasn’t there when you awoke, your mourning turned into something else. You sent a few texts, in case he somehow got them, but you were doubtful.

You didn’t know what it was like to live without him. There wasn’t a time in your life you could remember when you and JJ weren’t attached at the hip. Sometime around kindergarten, you two became inseparable, ultimately meeting John B and Pope as you got older and Kie when you all got to junior high. There was a weird couple of months around third grade where he decided girls had cooties, but it was short-lived because when JJ realized that meant you couldn’t be friends anymore he thought it was dumb and started coming over again. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when your relationship changed, the lines between friendship and something more merging and becoming blurred. If you had to, for you it was the start of sophomore year. Something changed when you were together, even just sitting in silence was comfortable and exciting. Eyes started lingering, touches became more frequent, and then one day you were just together. It’s been the same since. You think back to the first time you kissed like a couple. It definitely hadn’t been the first time the two of you had ever kissed. You were sure there had been at least one during your childhood and you vividly remember a New Year’s Eve party and a couple of games of truth or dare. But this time it was different. There was something behind it.

You and JJ sat side by side in the hammock outside of John B’s. He was smoking while using his one leg to rock the two of you slowly back and forth. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and pay attention to whatever story was being told. JJ must have noticed because he wrapped an arm around you, inviting you to lay on his chest.

This wasn’t uncommon between you. JJ was always physically affectionate toward the people he cared about and you had no problem reciprocating. You stayed just like that until it was just the two of you left outside.

JJ shifted slightly under your weight causing you to wake up. “Shit, sorry. You okay?” he asked, tossing the tip of the blunt into the fire.

You nodded, “mhm.” You looked around, realizing how dark it had gotten, “You could’ve woken me up! It’s late.”

“You looked peaceful.”

You pretended to clutch your heart, “JJ Maybank being nice? Dare I say sweet?”

“Shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes. He was smiling at you like you were the funniest person in the world.

“ No, no. You care about me,” you joked, poking his chest with your finger, “you loooove me.”

“ Yeah?” he challenged, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you said, your breath suddenly catching in your throat.

“What if I do?” He asked, but it wasn’t a question. His face was serious, a glimmer of hope in his crystal eyes.

You look slightly from his eyes to his lips. If JJ noticed he didn’t lead on. He just slowly bridged the gap between you, your noses brushing for a moment before your lips connected. It was slow and careful, not wanting to push too far, but all the same, wanting to completely unravel the other. His hand cupped your cheek, his rings cold against your flushed face as you leaned into the kiss.

You heard faint screams and cheers from inside the chateau and Pope’s “Finally!” echo out. You could feel him smiling and soon enough you were both laughing. You had finally come together and nothing would take that away.

On day six, the rain stopped and the world carried on as normal. You wanted to yell at every person you saw. How could anyone feel so neutral about anything that happened in the last week? The sheriff was dead, there was a murderer on the loose, your two best friends were gone, and your boyfriend was missing. But yeah, go ahead and go to the grocery store like any other Wednesday morning. Someone tell the earth, it’s not supposed to keep spinning after the world ends.

You were lying on your bed, staring at your ceiling as you tried to fall asleep, a breeze flowed through your window and your lamp illuminated the room. All you could hear were cicadas and the wind rustling through the trees until you heard your window creak and slide open. You tried to process everything all at once, your eyes scanning over every part of his body, trying to meet his eyes. He was wearing the same clothes he had on the last time you saw him. There was dirt under his fingernails and his face was puffy from crying. His lip was cracked and covered in dry blood and bruises littered his jaw and hands. You could cry at the mere sight of him. Before either of you could speak, you collided.

You held his head to your chest and placed kisses on his hairline. You tried to wipe your tears before he could see them, but it was no use. The two of you were a tangle of arms and legs, of broken hearts and misguided minds, so desperately trying to tell the other it was going to be okay without believing it yourself.

“I miss him so much,” he sobbed. Your heart fell to your stomach and everything you had pushed down the past few days came rushing back.

“Me too,” you breathed. JJ’s arms wrapped around your stomach and he buried his head into your neck. You stayed like this for what felt like hours, thinking that if you held on long enough the two of you wouldn’t fall apart.

You heard your door open slightly and you quickly turned your head to see your mom stood there, tears brimming her eyes. You can visibly see her shoulders relax as she lets out a sigh. Your door closes softly as if not to disturb you both. You hear her on the other side of the door, “he’s here. He’s okay.”

“My dad’s gone,” he murmured into your neck.

You can physically feel your heart break for the boy in your arms and the younger version of him, trying to find a space he belongs and mourning the only one he ever found. You want so badly to hold him together, paint all of his scars golden. To remind him how much people love him, how much you love him, but no words come out.

“Guess he finally picked up and left, son of a bitch” His voice wobbled, “I went back, uh, that night to find the necklace John B gave me.”

He pulled away so he could talk directly to you. You cupped his cheeks and swiped the tears with your thumbs before they could fall. He laughed dryly, remembering, “Climbed through my bedroom window and everything. It should’ve taken two minutes tops but it wasn’t on my dresser like I thought it was. I tore my room apart looking for it. And then my dad came home and heard me, uh he was not happy to see me, as you can imagine.”

“Did he hurt you?” you ask, moving farther away from him to make sure he wasn’t bleeding or worse.

He grabs your hands and brings them to his chest, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Is that where you were? The past few days,”

He nods, “yeah. I woke up the next day and he was gone. I was just going to get my stuff and go, but I don't know. Something wasn’t right.” He pauses to gather his thoughts, “They all really do leave, huh?”

“Don’t say that,” you urge.

“I’m just-”

“No. Do not think like that. None of this is your fault. Your dad is a fucking awful person for not loving you like you need to be loved. Like you deserve to be loved. And John B-” your voice cracks, “John B would never leave us if he didn’t have to and, and you have me. I couldn’t ever leave you. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself

He kisses your knuckles, “I know, I know. He just has so much power over the way I think.”

“But you know. You know you are nothing like him.”

He nods, not meeting your eyes.

“These past few days, J. You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Don’t disappear on me, okay?”

“Never.” He pushes his lips to yours, urgent and longing. You move your hands to his head, bringing him closer, trying to pour yourself into him.

[sir-adamus]

I’m constantly thinking about how my interest in Dragon Prince just died.

I liked season 1 fine, some pacing issues but every show has growing pains. Plus with nine episodes you gotta move a little quick in places.

Season 2, again, was fine. Some good moments. But my problems start getting obvious. Bad Dad is… not that well written. It feels like they’re trying to make him sympathetic while he’s treating his kids like shit and being a power hungry douche, and “no, the dragons were the real bad guys.” And… no? The writing for him is so muddled. And then my other biggest issue is the romance that came out of frickin nowhere. Like suddenly after a week Rayla ready to tell Callum she loves him like… what? And yeah they’re kids but still.

And then… season three. Oh season three. Undoubtedly the best part is what they do with Soren. I love this himbo. He’s the one thing I think is paced really well. Well, him and Claudia. But that’s about where it ends. I’m still so baffled why Aunt Amaya saved the Fire Elf when she’s been shown to have that same extreme prejudice. And while cute, their relationship is even more speedran than our main one which is impressive. Speaking of, I just can’t with Callum and Rayla. I can’t. And a lot of it comes down to the awful pacing. Again, limited episodes but I’ve seen other shows do a whole lot with just nine episodes. *cough* Arcane *cough*

And that’s not even getting into all the behind the scenes horror that just killed any enthusiasm I had left for the show. I know the people who worked on it didn’t want us to stop watching, they just wanted the world to know, but… I was already just barely hanging onto the show by a thread.

yeah honestly it's the pacing that killed it for me too (as well as, like you said, the behind the scenes stuff being extremely fucking horrible). the first two seasons go at a fairly even pace and then suddenly in the final episode throws in Rayla making an attempted love confession out of nowhere which then proceeds to dominate the entirety of the third season despite that the show's timeline means these two have only known each other for less than a month

it's the complete lack of buildup before acting like it was there all along - Arcane didn't have that issue despite the romantic aspects only being present for just over half the season's run-time because a) Vi and Cait's attraction to each other is made clear from the start and b) while they become close during the few days that back half of the show takes place over, they aren't making love confessions and kissing each other yet. mutual attraction and emotional connection has been established from the get-go and things build in a romantic direction from there. unlike with Ray/llum where it comes out of nowhere at the back-end of the second season after these teenagers have known each other for a month and then they're just in a serious relationship

like what

by comparison it doesn't feel half as rushed (though still rushed and definitely trying to play it with plausible deniability) with Amaya and Janai despite them having hardly any screentime because they didn't get that far, we just get established mutual attraction (if you can understand sign language because they didn't subtitle or have someone translate Amaya telling the boys that Janai thinks she's cute but won't admit it yet - can't think why!)

honestly the problem with the whole show is Ehasz trying to coast off his AtLA cred (which considering he wasn't invited back for Korra feels very much like how shit like Epic Movie were advertised as 'from the writers of Scary Movie' and it's the two writers who weren't invited back for any of the sequels) and so it's doing everything AtLA did but in a far more compressed timeframe and that really hurts the pacing

they spend two seasons building up the brewing war only to have it happen and resolve it in less than five episodes. i already did my rant about Ray/llum. Callum has basically no narrative struggle in season 3 because he's the magic Avatar and any magic he sees he can do (even super special magic that even most natural born magic users can't do), and the one conflict he has with Rayla, where she's intent to sacrifice herself to redeem her family for seemingly abandoning the Dragon Queen, he resolves by breaking a magic pendant she had given him to remember her (which itself was a gift to her so she could remember her adoptive dads, and was a symbol of their relationship) so he could use it as fuel for a spell (that, once again, he had only seen once, no magic struggle, boring as all fuck) behind her back, without consulting her, so he can win the argument and tell her she's wrong

all the interesting characters get sidelined in favour of turning Callum into a boring, overpowered time sink that Rayla suddenly perpetually revolves around. Soren is the one shining light in the season with him breaking out of the golden child/scapegoat conflict his shithole father has him and Claudia trapped in, while Claudia is just being fasttracked into being Azula but again (and i have a sneaking suspicion that there's no way she's going to be handled with any genuine nuance or care once that jump happens - Claudia was a great character in the first two seasons with a unique perspective on things and deserves way better from a writing standpoint. and a better writer who doesn't lie to fans in DMs about her romantic prospects just to encourage more engagement with the show because i know the person he did that too and holy fuck what a manipulative scumsuck he is)

it's frustrating because there was interesting stuff going on, cool ideas, fun characters - and it just got completely fucked over by Ehasz being a tool and a hack writer rushing half the story, rushed romances and whatever else into the third season because that was all the animators were contracted for (while also being a terrible shithead behind the scenes and lying to fans, about a number of things but in this specific case, trying to drum up engagement for the show so they could get a second and third season despite that those were already in the works) because he desperately wants this to be his Avatar but again and Better

[winterscaptain]

three’s company.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: and here we are! the final installment of the ajf 100 arc. this takes place right after mosley lane in season five, and from here on i promise we’ll see some happier days :) i can’t thank you all enough for coming on this adventure with me, as hard and fraught as it was. 

an ajf fic arc that happily stands on its own! (the pieces stand alright on their own as well, for the most part!) one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

words: 1.6k warnings: none!

summary: “let us not burden our remembrances with a heaviness that's gone.” - william shakespeare, the tempest

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

“You’d never believe it, Hales. The sass on your kid these days is unreal.” A laugh leaves you as you lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “He pulled one right out of your book the other day with Aaron when he told him it was time to come in out of the snow...” 

It’s just one of those Saturdays where you needed to talk to her. Not for any particular reason, but just knowing that if this was any other timeline, the two of you would sit out in the breakfast nook in the big house, watching the snow fall and the sun set as the February evening wore on. 

There’s a crunch of snow under day-off boots behind you, but you ignore him and continue talking, just as you would if she were here. 

“We miss you. I think the weirdest thing so far was skipping your Christmas present. Had it all wrapped and everything and then I remembered you wouldn’t be there.” You look up, taking a little breath. “Had a good cry about that one.” 

“It is getting better though, all things considered…” You trail off, not sure what to say. Sharing silence with a headstone is a little less companionable than the alternative. 

It wasn’t a lie, though. The grief didn’t overwhelm you now like it did those first weeks. It sometimes clocked you at the oddest of times, drawing a few tears (or more than a few) or a little smile. 

Sometimes, both. 

You huff a little laugh to yourself. “We had a really good case outcome last week. Found three kids who’d been missing, got them all back to their parents. It was just one of those that reminded us why we do it, you know?”

Aaron sits beside you without a word. 

“And you’d be proud of Aaron, Haley. He’s saddling the rest of us with the paperwork and going home early, most nights. It’s kind of impressive. Though, I know it’ll wear off and he’ll be back on his bullshit soon enough.” 

There’s a snort from beside you, and you finally acknowledge him. 

“Tell me it isn’t true and I’ll take it back,” you say, looking over at him.

He shrugs. “Can’t. But then again, you’d never lie to Haley and you’d never lie to the dead, so we’re two for two, there.”

You smile at him for a moment, gesturing vaguely to the headstone. “We were just catching up.”

“Of course. I thought it would be one of those days.”

“Where’s the kiddo?” You look over your shoulder, halfway expecting Jack to be playing somewhere in the snow. 

“Helping Jess with dinner.” He addresses Haley’s headstone. “Hear that, Hales? Your son is helping with dinner, now.”

You both pause, acknowledging the laughter you know you’d get if she were here. 

Looking over at him, you wryly note, “Yeah, see, Jack might be helping with dinner, but you still aren’t. What’s your excuse?”

“I have been sent to bring you to the apartment for dinner by request of my son and my sister.”

You tut at him with a little smile “Nice to see Jess has been promoted.”

He rolls his eyes. 

+++

The first time the entire team gathers at Dave’s after the New Year is a refreshing return to something that feels halfway normal.

You’ve got Henry in your lap so JJ can actually eat something. He’s messing around with one of the rubik’s-cube-like toys Spencer got him for Christmas. To everyone’s delight, the novelty of them has yet to wear off and they’ve saved the entire Jareau-La Montagne household a couple of meltdowns. 

“How’s he holding up?” JJ asks between bites.

You glance over at Hotch, on the floor with one leg outstretched and the other tucked underneath him. Jack’s holding his attention, explaining some advanced maneuver with his army men. “He’s doing alright. Better every day, I think, but there will always be bad days.” 

She hums. “And Jack?”

You shrug, catching Henry’s toy before it can fall from your lap. “He’s still adjusting, of course, but Jess is doing a great job at keeping up with his routines.” 

“Actually, that’s really all kids need at Jack’s age, other than socialization and physical affection,” Spencer says. “The retention of a consistent routine is key to development after the toddler stages of childhood.” 

You toss a grin over your shoulder. “Thanks, Spence.” 

He shrugs. “It’s just true.” 

JJ huffs a laugh and puts her napkin on the table. You pass Henry back to her, and he’s more than happy to tuck back against her chest. 

Dave, a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder, takes your plate. You follow him back into the kitchen, turning the water on and starting on the silverware while he tackles the glasses. 

“Everything okay?” He asks. 

Your brow furrows. “Yeah. Why?”

He glances over his shoulder. “Just not used to seeing you so far from Aaron, is all. Fifty feet is quite a far distance for a shadow to cover, don’t you think?” 

With an eye roll: “Give me a break, Rossi.”

He raises his soapy hands as if to surrender, but you know he’s not even close to done. “I’m just sayin.’” He relents after a moment. “There’s only so much the rest of us can do for him.” 

“What do you mean?” You direct your question at the dishes, remaining studiously focused on your task. 

Unlike you, he pauses, turning square to face you. “For a pair of profilers...You know what? It’s not worth it.”

+++

Aaron stamps the snow off his boots and hangs his coat and scarf on the hook by the door, fresh from an afternoon of errands and paperwork at the office. 

Belatedly, he realizes he missed the fort in the living room when he first came through the door. The couch cushions and dining chairs have all been arranged in an elaborate configuration, supporting the duvet stolen from Aaron’s bed and a fair few flat sheets from the hall closet. All the linens are secured with carefully knotted neckties, or pinned together with some spare clothespins you found God-knows-where.  

Creeping forward, he picks up the corner of what he imagines is a door flap by design. 

In the dark of the fort, he finds you and Jack curled together on your sides around the portable DVD player. Jack’s out like a light - his little hand pressed against his cheek where it rests on your arm. You’re awake, waiting for him. 

Aaron finds your eyes. You smile a little and keep your voice at a whisper. “He’s only been sleeping about twenty minutes or so. He wore himself out playing architect, so I figured a quick nap wouldn’t keep him up too late.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Aaron assures you in a whisper with an equally small smile. “I’m just glad he had fun today.” 

“Yeah.” You arc an arm over Jack’s shoulders and brush at the feathered hair on his forehead. Returning your gaze to Aaron, you playfully (and quietly) ask, “Want to join us for another movie, or are you too old for stuff like this?”

He shakes his head, a real, genuine smile on his face. It’s the first one you’ve seen in a while and it warms you beyond measure. 

When he stoops inside, he rests his head on your calf and his hand on his son. You gingerly stretch for another DVD, and Aaron takes over the logistics after you hand it over - replacing the disk, lowering the volume, and starting the next movie. 

In the quiet darkness, you think of Haley. A few tears slip out of the corners of your eyes, landing between your temple and your arm. You don’t dare move for fear of waking Jack, but it’s as if Aaron can read your mind. He lifts his head just so, finding your lashes inexplicably wet in the light from the screen. 

Your eyes flicker down to his and your close-lipped smile is shaky. 

His eyes narrow. What’s wrong? 

Nothing. You shake your head just a little. I just miss her. 

You watch the inside of his lip pinch between his teeth as his mouth presses into a thin line. 

A trembling breath leaves you as you refocus on the screen, your fingers playing with the hem of Jack’s sleeve as he sleeps. 

Aaron watches you for a moment. He thinks perhaps you are the only person alive who understood what was between him and Haley - the love, the tiffs, the history. Somehow, you managed to see right through them, right through him, right through her, to the heart of it. 

He’s sure you love his son like your own. He remembers the desperate way you held his son when you found him in that trunk. It was that day - when he saw the panic flash across your face when you realized you hadn’t seen Jack, hadn’t found him - he realized that you’d kill, risk life and limb, drop everything, for Jack. 

That day tested you as well. If you thought too long about it, you could still taste the metallic tang of anger in the back of your mouth when you thought about Foyet getting his hands on Jack. It was that overwhelming flood of emotion that brought you to the same conclusion. 

Now, the secure weight of Jack in your arms lulls you into a kind of bone-deep peace. 

You let your eyes close, falling into the sheer comfort of the moment. After a few minutes, Aaron follows suit.

+++

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

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: exactly 7777 words how sexy is that || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as the Lady in the first season of The Gentlemen.

<- prev || masterlist || next ->

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, filmed sex, public sex/outdoor sex, oral (f receiving), jin being a little shit just because he can, vmin mxm scene, bath sex, unprotected sex, fingering/anal play, anal sex, creampie, the most tender smut scene in this whole fic goes to these fucking boys

ᴀ/ɴ: banner designed by @jamaisjoons​, thank you to my sfhs girls who help with brainstorming every week xx, i’m so sorry if this feels rushed or too short, i didn’t want to leave you hanging for three weeks : (

DAY NINE

One thing you learn the morning after, is that Hoseok is a deceptively bad cook.

Of course you’re grateful for the breakfast in bed he kindly prepared you and Jungkook - the latter still half-asleep and unable to go more than five seconds without yawning - but it’s hard to comprehend that the man in front of you now, eating cereal with a fork, is the same one that wrecked you so elegantly last night.

“Why is the toast chewy? Are we still being punished?” Jungkook moans sombrely around a mouthful, eyes dazed.

Hoseok sets his fork back in the bowl with a clatter, reaching out to poke Jungkook with a foot. “Be grateful, brat. I made that out of love.”

The younger man stares bleakly down at his plate. “I’d love to have a  pancake right now instead.”

You wince at Hoseok’s disappointed expression, taking a mouthful of the strangely floppy toast. “It’s… nice and warm,” you offer up, failing to find anything else to compliment.

Hoseok beams. “Thank you. While I was doing my cereal, it got a bit cold, so I heated it up in the microwave.”

Your heart sinks despairingly into your stomach, which roils at the prospect. “Ah,” you muse hollowly.

“Eat up!” the dom cheers. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Still smiling proudly, he digs his fork into the almost full bowl of cereal and begins chowing down.

Jungkook shares a silent stare with you, and you turn back to your plate. “Thanks for breakfast, Hoseok,” you sigh, and brace yourself for the meal ahead.

After breakfast, you get dressed in a pair of shorts and a comfy shirt, planning on spending the day inside relaxing. But the moment you see Jin and Taehyung running around on the gravel outside, a small darting form evading their flailing arms, you realise how foolish you were to expect that a day in the villa could be anything remote to uneventful.

Rushing out the front door still in your socks, you step down to the base of the concrete entryway, staring in shock at the two men.

Taehyung’s face is bright with a boxy grin, laughing maniacally as he rushes to and fro, still in his version of pyjamas - loose boxer shorts and a Celine Dion t-shirt. “Hyung, that way!” he hoots cheerily to Jin, feet crunching noisily on the gravel.

The other man, considerably less happy (or perhaps the frown was one of absolute concentration), huffs at the command. “It’s your fuckin’ dog, Tae, why isn’t it going to you?”

Between them, panting and grinning, is a small dog with short fur, nails clicking on the gravel. It can’t be taller than knee-height, with wide eyes and a small black nose. It probably is white or cream coloured, but the thick crusting of dirt all over makes it hard to tell.

“It’s not my dog, I just found him!” Taehyung insists, before crouching down, clicking his tongue. “Mango, c’mere boy! Come to daddy.”

Jin comes to a stop with a groan, chest heaving. “Well, now you’re just going to scar the poor thing.”

Taehyung glares, but doesn’t stop cooing at the dog, who’s now eying him up suspiciously. “Come on, boy, daddy just wants to help, he’ll give you a nice, warm bath and some treats. Sound nice, Mango? C’mere!”

With the cool disdain that you’ve never seen in a dog before, Mango lifts his chin and turns tail, gracefully trotting over to Jin, rubbing his face against the man’s shin.

Taehyung gasps in abject horror at the betrayal, sinking fully onto the rough gravel of the driveway, but Jin just grins and bends down, gently scratching the dog’s head.

You let out a disbelieving laugh at the scene, drawing their attention. “What is going on?”

Immediately, the two men point at each other accusingly, the dog - Mango - snuffling at Jin’s hand when he realises his petting has ceased.

Jin calmly resumes stroking the mutt with a mellow expression. “Taehyung kidnapped a dog.”

“I did not!” the younger man protests vehemently. “I found him wandering around all by himself and I put out some food for him.” Taehyung turns to you with desperate eyes. “Jin called him filthy!”

“I did,” the therapist admits easily, “‘cause he is.” Crouching down, he gets closer to eye-level and pouts. “All this mud and dirt on you, hm? Not nice, is it? Poor bo-” Jin cuts himself off as the dog rolls over on its back, wiggling against the gravel happily. The three of you stare in silence for a few moments at Mango, before Jin slowly pans up to stare at Taehyung. “You thought Mango was a boy this whole time?”

Taehyung scratches his head with a helpless shrug. “Well, I didn’t think to check his dick for confirmation! I mean, her dick. No dick. Uh…”

Jin’s ignoring him, however, in favour of giving Mango tummy rubs, grinning at the whipping of her tail as it wags. “Oh, Taehyungie is so mean to you, isn’t he? Poor girl. I wouldn’t trust him with a cactus,” he admits in a mock whisper.

“I resent that,” Taehyung shouts lowly, voice getting louder as he gets worked up, “Cactuses don’t even have dicks, so it wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Neither does Mango,” Jin quips sharply.

“Hey!” the younger boy yells, pouting at the sight of Mango snuggling up to Jin so willingly.

From behind, the sudden bang of a fist on glass makes you jump. Whirling around, you watch in bewilderment as Jimin rushes outside, eyes wide and mouth rounded at the sight.

“What the fuck is all the racket about?” he exclaims in bewilderment. “We’re trying to watch a movie but we can’t hear a thing over the sounds you’re- is that a dog?”

“Mango!” Taehyung chimes. “H- She’s my dog!”

“That wasn’t what you said earlier,” Jin begins, and Jimin tuts loudly to break off the bantering.

“Goodness, she’s a skinny little thing,” Jimin says with worry, passing you to go crouch beside Jin. He holds a hand out and smiles softly as Mango presses her nose into his palm. “Dirty, too. There’s a hose out back that does warm water, let’s clean her off and get her some food.”

Your heart warms at the same fond tone in his voice that you’d heard at Mrs. Park’s house. “I’ll go get some soap and towels,” you offer, “I need to go get my shoes on anyway.”

Jimin, already fully dressed in tight blue jeans and a white t-shirt - the most casual you’d seen him yet - turns around to nod at you. “Thank you,” he chirps, “we’ll be around back.”

By the time you get ready and come back with the supplies, Taehyung is already manning the hose, running his fingers through the stream to wait for it to warm up as he chats away with Jimin. Clearly a fan of the oldest, Mango is still happily hanging around Jin’s ankles, whole body wagging as she gets her ears scratched.

Jimin glances up when you round the corner, and rushes forward to take the items from your hands. “Thank you, let’s hope-” He pauses, staring down at the bottle. “Is this my hand-soap?”

You suppress a sheepish grin. “It says mild and unscented, I thought it would be better for Mango than body wash.”

“Fair enough,” Jimin allows, before turning back around to the other two. “Alright, let’s hope Mango likes water.”

As it turns out, Mango positively thrives with the water, panting happily as her fur is soaked with the warm water. Crouching to your side, you squirt some soap out onto her back, and you and Jimin begin massaging it in on either side of her while Jin holds up her head to keep it free from suds.

It takes a while, but Mango is patient, and you’re determined to make sure all the grit and dirt accumulated from a life of sleeping rough is washed away. Beneath the matted filth is beautiful white fur, the palest brown in places. With tiny feet and delicate ears, she may be a mutt but she’s a beautiful one, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Jin’s fond smile as he stares into her baleful eyes.

Taehyung rinses her down, the suds collecting on the back lawn, and before any of you even think to get away, Mango braces herself and shakes, spraying droplets all over the four of you.

Closest to her body, it’s you and Jimin that cop most of the downpour, and you hiss at the feeling of it soaking your shirt and running down your neck. Taehyung gasps and ditches the hose to chuck a towel over her wet body, but the damage has been done.

Across from you, on the other side of Mango, Jimin’s pink lips are rounded gracefully in a gasp, eyes clenched shut. You can’t help but grin as he slowly blinks away the water in his eyes with a low moan of disappointment, the delicately-applied makeup now smudging, a watery layer of mascara ringing his eyes. When he stretches up into a crouch, his pants are spotted with water though mostly okay, and it’s clear his shirt displays the majority of the water.

Clinging to him obscenely, the thin white cotton is made see-through with the effect of Mango’s shake-off. It exposes the harsh black lines of his tattoo, which winds around his ribcage, nevermind. You’d seen it laid bare twice before, but you’d been too wound up from his teasing to even really look. Now, though, you admire the way it stands out so starkly even behind a layer of fabric, the edges blurred but still strong and pure black.

As he huffs and wrings out the fabric, Taehyung cackles behind him, and Jimin’s face darkens. Without any time for the younger man to react, Jimin’s grabs the still-running hose and turns it onto Taehyung, drenching him with a triumphant yell.

“Hey!” Taehyung screeches, hair covering his eyes heavily as his pyjamas sag against his body. “No fair!”

You jump away as Taehyung begins to wrestle with Jimin for the hose, the two grinning like idiots even as they scrabble.

Jin, calmly patting down Mango, chooses to instead lift her into his arms bundled in the towel. He crooks his head at you. “Let’s go down to the pool and dry off a bit in the sun,” he suggests. “Save getting caught in the middle of this battle.”

You squint against the glare of the late morning sun that glints off the pool. You’ve never been there yourself or seen anyone swim in it, and its lack of use is clear by the uneven layer of leaves that floats across its surface. “If you dunk me in that dirty-ass pool, I’ll kill you.” Even with the venom in your words, you follow him over, the chaos of the two boys left behind growing quieter and quieter.

“Don’t worry,” Jin assures you sweetly, “I’ll clean it first.” With that, he steps up onto the concrete patio that surrounds the large rectangle and makes his way over to the three haphazard pool chairs beside the edge. “You and Mango can relax here.”

Eying him suspiciously, you sit on the gauzy canvas of one of the lounge chairs and lean back, letting out a sigh as the warm of the sun settles onto your skin like a blanket. “Fine,” you sigh out, too comfortable to protest, “just while Mango dries off.”

Jin works quietly, without haste. All you hear as you throw an arm over your eyes is the occasional tinkling of water and the snuffling of the dog Jin sat down beside you.

With the sun beating down on you, warming your soaked shirt, you let your mind wander lazily. You hadn’t really had a chance to properly think after the elimination. Or lack of, you suppose. All of Monday had you feeling a strange mix of relief and guilt, until Hoseok served your penance and allowed you to put your mind at ease again. Now, though, you take a chance to think over how the game has changed.

It was moments like earlier, when groups of you were together and laughing, that made you happy to be here. The thought that you were no longer evicting one contestant a week felt like a hundred-year burden finally being lifted off your shoulders.

Though of course, with all the good, came bad, too. The guys said they wouldn’t take you personally, and at least now everyone would know the decision was based on sex alone, but it didn’t take a psychic to see how bad things could turn if someone took it wrong. Already you can picture fights, sulking, resentment, and the thought scares you.  

And then the punishment for you touching them. It was something you hadn’t seen coming for a second, though all of Sejin’s twists had gotten you off-guard. The thought that the other guys would have control over what you wore if you ever slipped up gives you pause. You’re confident in your body, but they would be well within their rights to make you wear something humiliating. You bite down hard on your tongue. Just don’t fuck the outed members, you hiss at yourself. Easy as that.

Not so easy, perhaps, when the thought of every one of them made your heart ache and shift in your chest.

“You aren’t asleep, are you?”

You shoot up in fright at the sudden exclamation, startled out of your train of thought. “No, what?” your tongue fumbles, before you squint in front of you to the poolside and your mouth drops open.

As casual as ever, Jin stands on the far edge, leaning his weight on a long leaf skimmer, the net resting on the end of the pole, above his head. That isn’t what has your attention, though. As you raise a hand to block the sun, you feel your mouth water at the sight of him standing in nothing but a pair of dark grey boxers, hand on his hip casually like it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

“What the fuck are you doing?” is the only thing your mind can think to say.

Jin chuckles, the motion making his broad shoulders jump up and down. Your mouth drops wider open, eyes roaming his figure. Basking in the attention, he smiles broadly. “Cleaning your pool,” he answers easily, “Miss Y/n.”

Your brows knit together. “My po- Oh.” You take a moment to analyse the situation - single lady on the pool chair watching as a hot and scantily-clad young man cleans it for her. Pool boy. A bemused giggle bubbles up your throat as you remember Jin’s disbelieving reaction when he drew the card. “Really?”

Jin just shrugs. “I’m just here to do my job, Miss. Saving up money for college. But it’s so hot out here that-” Jin breaks off with a pout as you begin to crack up, curling over your own torso with the force of it. “Hey! Why are you laughing at me?”

You try to let your laughter die down enough to speak, still giggling wetly as your eyes tear up a bit from it. “Sa-saving up for college,” you make out before cracking up again. “You don’t have to pay to be a professor, Jinnie.”

His mouth drops open in offence at your quip, letting the leaf skimmer clatter onto the concrete dramatically. On the chair beside you, Mango wakes up with a start at the noise and flees, scampering off in the direction of the villa. Still offended, Jin turns and makes his way around the edge of the pool towards you with a huff. “The disrespect these days,” he declares, “I’m just a poor uni student trying to make a quick buck and all you’re doing is insulting me.”

You sit up, watching him keep your gaze step by step. The sun is beautiful on him, honeying his brown hair and bronzing the smooth skin of his chest, shoulders and arms. He’s beautiful, but of course he doesn’t need you telling him to know that. “You shouldn’t talk back to your employer, Jinnie,” you quip as he nears.

As intimidating as someone can be wearing nothing but underwear - you can spy his clothes haphazardly strewn on the concrete on the other side of the patio - Jin steps in front of the lounge chair, blotting out the sun with his broad back. “Luckily for you,” he answers smoothly, “I just finished. I’ll just collect the cash and get out of your hair.”

You stare up at him, eyes aching now that they’re not fighting against the glare of the sun. Even though you’ve never been in this situation before, and certainly don’t have much experience with role-play, the words come easy to you. “But I don’t have any money.”

His grin turns wolfish, like he’d been hoping you’d say that. Your stomach flips as he lifts one leg over the end of the lounge chair, straddling it. “I suppose I’ll just have to claim my payment in some other way.”

Your heart races as he sits down, boxers doing nothing to hide his straining erection. “Like what?” you ask weakly, breath hitching as his fingers stretch out to brush over the button of your shorts.

Jin’s eyes are hot on yours, twin points of heat everywhere they roam. First between your legs, then up to meet your gaze. “Will you let me taste you?” he asks, previous humour completely evaporated. He stares at you intensely, like nothing else is as important as this, and you find yourself nodding before you even process it.

“Wait,” you gasp as he slips open the button, zip sliding down smoothly, “out here? The others-”

“Have gone inside,” Jin cuts in easily, fingers dipping below the hem of your panties. Your breath hitches, hips lifting to help him slip them off your legs and onto the concrete beside, shoes and socks following. “We’re alone.”

The warmth of the chair’s fabric below you is strange on your skin, but Jin isn’t content with just your core being exposed. Tapping your arm, he guides you to raise them as he lifts your shirt, tossing it away in the same direction. Almost bare for him, the only thing that remains is your bra, and without hesitation his fingers find the clasp, leaning forward to capture your mouth with his suddenly as he slips the bra down your arm.

Naked beneath him, you whimper into his mouth as he presses his chest against you, arms caging you on either side. It’s been a long time since you’ve kissed him, and it feels just as heady as last time, his lips soft but so firm and thorough as they claim you.

Jin kisses with all his energy, like it’s his only purpose, and the intense way he works your mouth open and licks up into it, swirling his tongue dizzily over yours has you hooked on him, needing more even as he gives you more than you feel you can handle.

After a time, you feel him shift, and you groan past swollen lips as he slides down your body, trailing an unbroken line of kisses down your throat and chest until he’s cupping a breast in his hand, hot mouth descending on a stiff peak. You cry out, back arching with the delicious stimulation as he suckles on it needily.

“Still so sensitive,” he remarks with a chuckle, and any protest at his teasing tone is lost under the indulgent way he flicks his tongue over the bud, circling it deftly. It’s sinful, the way you watch him, watch his eyes close in bliss and your peak roll under the ministrations of his tongue, like a show of what’s to come.

Once he gives a final wet suck to bring it to its full stiffness, he moves across to the other one, thumbing the first lazily to keep those hot coals of pleasure burning inside you.

Sensing you can take it, he’s rougher with the second nipple, tugging at it with his teeth, sucking harshly and laving his tongue over it when you whimper at the sting. “Perfect for me,” his voice makes out in a gravelled tone, “you’re like a fucking four-course meal.”

You chuckle airily, though it’s cut off by a hitched whimper as he ventures lower yet again, letting his tongue and lips lead the way over the skin of your stomach, until you can feel the warmth of his breath where you need to feel him most. “Jinnie,” you breathe pleadingly, toes curling as he dips out his tongue to wet his lips.

“Will you be good while I taste you, hm?” Jin questions lowly, voice silken like his lips.

You nod with a swallow, but your throat has gone dry just watching him. The sight of his fingers digging in to the flesh of your thighs, his lips pursing, his eyes swirling with mischief and lust. “Need you, Jinnie,” you find yourself pleading again.

He hums in bemusement, and you unconsciously hold your breath as he finally dips his head down. The first contact isn’t his tongue at all, but his lips, pressed to the upper seam of your thigh. You gasp, core clenching, but he pays no mind, laying a delicate trail across your thigh, until he jumps over and begins the other side.

With a whine, you part your legs wider, bare feet grazing on the sunbaked concrete. The rough texture reminds you of the fact that you’re outside, bared to the world, and you whine again. “Jinnie, hurry.”

“Patience,” he chastises lowly, pinching the inner of your thigh between two fingers to make you jump. “I cleaned out the pool for you, the least you can do is let me enjoy you.”

You swallow down your needy moan, head falling back against the lounge chair. “Sorry,” you gasp out instead, hoping he appreciates your manners and takes mercy on you.

Instead, he just grins. “So polite,” the therapist muses, “I wonder how long that’ll last.” One at a time, slow like he’s drawing out your anticipation, he lifts your legs onto his broad shoulders, tilting your hips up to expose you to him better.

The moment he touches his tongue to your core, you know you’re fucked.

Languid, exploratory, he delves the muscle through your folds, swirling once around your sensitive clit before dipping back down again. You sigh out, enjoying every motion, but it’s far too slow, and he knows it.

As you glance down, his lips are stretched in a slick grin, which he makes no attempt to mask. Obscenely, he wraps his lips around one of yours and sucks, slurping at your juices without shame.

You sob, thighs tensing, but he holds you open calmly and gives the same ministration to the other side, collecting your arousal on his tongue like he’s savouring it. More and more leaks out of you at the feeling of him going down on your for his own pleasure, and he groans in approval.

In his grasp, you attempt to cant your hips down to angle your clit closer to his roving tongue, but he deftly ignores your attempt, devouring you at his own pace.

After the clouds pass, the sun pierces your eyes again, and you throw an arm over your face to block it out, body writhing under his slow stimulation. “Ji-Jinnie,” you hiccup, but he doesn’t even reply, fingers clutching tighter at your thighs and ass to latch you onto him firmer.

When a breeze picks up, it wafts over you, cooling the spit on your nipples and peaking them even more, and you shiver at the feeling. Hearing a distant swishing sound, you lift your arm up and glance towards the source, only to go stiff once you see.

About ten metres away, the outdoor dining area is not as empty as it was before, Yoongi pausing with two plates full of cooked meat and potatoes, eyes directly locked on you. With a flip of arousal and dread, you watch as more members of the house file out; Jungkook, Namjoon and Hoseok joining him and gawking when they see you and Jin.

Cheeks flushing violently, you push at Jin’s head. “They-they’re out here, Jin, you need to stop-” you break off as he pulls back and glances over, chin and lips shiny with your arousal.

“Lunchtime,” Yoongi calls out with a wry grin, and you groan as he continues to set the table outside, the younger ones following suit. Namjoon seems the most startled of the four, but not one of them has looked away. Jungkook’s eyes are so wide you can see them rounded from here, a hand pressing to the front of his crotch.

You make another effort to wriggle out of Jin’s grip, but without even looking at you he keeps you locked in, spread for him. “Thanks, but I’m already eating!” he quips proudly, and you sob in embarrassment at the pun, covering your hands and scrunching your eyes shut.

Unable to see, however, you’re taken off-guard when Jin suddenly descends on you like a man starved. You go stiff and shriek at the sudden strong suck on your clit, before clapping a palm over your mouth. The distant sounds of the guys having lunch just makes you drip more, and Jin doesn’t miss it.

“You like that, dirty girl?” You sob at the question, but he just chuckles lowly. “Acting all shy, all coy, but this pussy of yours just loves being watched. Shall we give them a show?”

You barely have time to muster a wordless cry in response before his tongue, lips and teeth are ravishing you with only one intent: to bring you to a screaming orgasm.

You writhe as much as his grip allows you, overtaken by the sudden onslaught of pleasure, but it’s inescapable. While you can muffle your moans with your fist, biting harshly on your knuckles, there’s no denying the four men dining outside can see the way you tremble and arch, and the thought just makes you cry out more.

Your high arrives quickly as you squeeze your eyes shut, not bearing to look towards the voyeurs or even Jin as his tongue delves deep into you, nose nudging your clit as he goes.

Risking a glance over to the dining area quickly, it’s the sight of all four men sitting down, eyes heavy on you as the food remains untouched that sends you over the edge.

You reach out desperately for Jin; one hand buried into his hair and the other clutching at his hand. He holds onto you tightly as he works you through your orgasm until your thighs are shaking and your chest is heaving with the force of it.

When the tremors finally subside, he presses one last kiss to your sensitive clit, and then lets your legs down. You pant quietly as he sits up and pats your pussy playfully with a grin. To your confusion, he then stands up and rubs at the red texture marks that the gauzy fabric of the lounge chair has imprinted, and begins to walk off towards the house.

You frown, sitting up with a still-racing heart. “Where are you going?” you question incredulously.

With a shit-eating grin, Jin sends you a wink, not even bothering to go collect his clothes or hide his straining erection. “Lunchtime.”

“Will Mango be okay?” Taehyung asks worriedly.

Jimin tsks, but his tone is warm as he levels a stare at the younger man. “She’ll be fine, Tae, she’s a big girl. Besides; Hoseok looked like he’d fallen in love. I bet she’s getting treated like a queen right now.”

Taehyung glances down the stairs morosely as they turn the corner. “Good,” he muses, “she is.”

Jimin doesn’t notice Taehyung following him until he steps into his room, only to see the masseuse still behind him. “Do you need something?”

Still in pyjamas soaked from the water fight, Taehyung looks nonetheless beautiful. Jimin takes a moment to look over the tanned boy, his lithe frame exposed by the clinging fabric and his hair hanging long with the weight of the water. His lips are delicately sculpted like from marble, and he can’t help himself from starting at the slight pout as Taehyung asks softly, “does your room have a bath? Jungkook said you did.”

Jimin blinks. “How would Jungko- Oh.” The already-faded memory of Jungkook barging in on his morning routine sharpens back into colour. Of course. “Anyway, yes, I do. Why’s that?”

“Just wondering.” Taehyung shifts, a ring of dark grey on the carpet around him from the water that drips off his body.

Jimin dares a glance at the cameras in the corners of the hallway. If the two of them soak the carpet much more, Sejin will have their heads. Sighing he steps further into his room, opening the door wider. “Do you want to use it?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Taehyung brightens up, grin so broad it exposes his back teeth. “Yes, please, hyung!”

Jimin takes a deep breath to stop himself from mirroring the smile, simply shutting the door behind them both as Taehyung rushes into the bathroom, skidding on the floor with his wet feet. “Careful,” Jimin scolds quickly, “you’ll fall.” Avoiding Taehyung’s imploring gaze, he steps past him to put in the plug and begin running water, shivering at the feeling of his wet clothes cold against his skin. “Do you like it hot?”

“Always,” Taehyung answers without hesitation. Though Jimin can’t see his face, the low timbre of the masseuse’s voice gives him pause. “Can we have bubbles?”

Like that, the moment of tension is broken, and Jimin straightens up with a laugh, turning to him. “We?”

Taehyung pouts again, shaking the hair out of his eyes. “You aren’t gonna shower while I have a bath, are you, hyung? That’s a waste of water.”

Jimin feels his eyebrows rise, but the motion catches his attention in the mirror. He gasps at his reflection behind Taehyung; with the liner and mascara around his eyes smudged like a racoon and his foundation patchy, he looks like a mess. “Goodness,” he sighs, “why didn’t you tell me I look like this?”

Taehyung’s eyes are wide with uncertainty as Jimin rushes to the vanity, hastily fishing in the drawers for an oil cleanser to remove the dregs of pigment on his face. “You still look beautiful, hyung,” Taehyung offers softly.

“I look like a teenage girl that just got dumped.” Jimin scoffs a laugh as he viciously rubs at his skin, rinsing it off in the sink with a sigh. Straightening up again, he winces at the reflection that greets him. Red nose and chin, cheeks round without the illusion of contour, eyes looking too small in his face. Every flaw makes him bite down on his tongue harsher, until he whirls himself around, unable to look longer. With his jaw tense, Jimin tugs off the silver rings that adorn his fingers. “Fuck it, I’ll have a bath.”

Instead of cheering like Jimin expects him to, wants him to, Taehyung just eyes him with quiet concern. Over the loudly gushing faucet, his voice is barely audible as he repeats, “you still look beautiful.”

“Do you want vanilla or peaches and cream?” Jimin offers instead. “For bubbles, I mean.” Busying himself with picking out the bottles from the shower, he misses the frown on Taehyung’s face.

“Peaches, please, hyung,” the younger man requests warmly, shivering at the strange tension in the air. “Peach is my favourite scent, you know?”

“Is it?” The thought brings a smile to Jimin’s lips, as he discards the other bottle and begins drizzling body wash over the stream, bubbles frothing immediately. The bright yet sweet scent begins to fill the room, and Jimin’s smile widens. “It suits you.”

Once the tub is aptly full, and bubbles cover the surface, Jimin caps the bottle and peels the fabric of his shirt off himself with soapy hands, sighing as the weight is removed. He spares a glance to Taehyung, who still stands motionless in the middle of the room in a puddle of water. “You can get in now,” he provides, “I don’t bite.”

The blatant lie tugs a grin from Taehyung’s lips as he obediently begins undressing. “You forget I’ve seen your videos,” he quips wryly.

“Oh, I certainly haven’t forgotten, Taehyungie.” It takes more effort to strip himself from his blue jeans, totally waterlogged, but Jimin kicks off his shoes and does it one leg at a time. Naked, he seeks out the warmth of the water, sighing as he steps in and sinks below the bubbles, glancing over to Taehyung, who avoids his gaze as he slips off his boxers, the fabric slapping wetly on the white tiles.

It’s the first time Jimin’s seen Taehyung fully naked, and he can’t help his eyes from roaming. Smooth chest leading to a narrow waist and soft stomach, Taehyung’s cock standing at half-mast like he’s still unsure whether he should be aroused or not. Hastily, he steps into the bath, facing Jimin on the other side, and Jimin watches those delicate, slender fingers flex on the side of the tub as he settles in. Those fingers that played Y/n like she was an instrument. Those fingers that relaxed Jimin more than he’d felt in years, without even needing a release.

“I did what you suggested, hyung,” Taehyung says lightly, knees poking out of the water as he sticks as far to his end of the tub as possible. He pokes his chin forward, running a finger over his jaw and lower cheek. “I’m growing it out.”

Jimin smiles at the younger man warmly, the warmth of the water relaxing his muscles and softening him more than he’d normally be. Or perhaps it was the earnest, non-judgmental air Taehyung always held. Either way, he finds himself leaning forward slightly to brush his fingertips over the bottom of Taehyung’s face. The slightly sharp texture of exposed hairs and beginnings of a dark shadow evidence that he hadn’t shaved since Monday morning. “It’s growing in fast,” he comments, eyes darting to see the way Taehyung’s pulse thrums visibly on his neck.

Taehyung swallows, eyes locked on Jimin. “That’s why I usually shave everyday,” he explains lightly. Perhaps unconsciously, the masseuse’s legs part slowly, water rushing in to fill the void.

Shifting closer again, up on his knees, Jimin continues to inspect the 5 o’clock shadow on Taehyung’s face. “It looks nice,” he says softly; “handsome.”

Taehyung’s eyes blink widely. As Jimin’s tongue darts out quickly to wet his lips, he wonders if, had there been no bubbles, he’d be able to see Taehyung’s cock stiffening to a full erection below the water. The thought sends blood rushing down to his own dick, and Jimin sighs.

Sensing the silence has extended long enough, Taehyung swallows. “Do you think she’ll like it, hyung? What if it’s too rough?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Jimin points out, voice coming out breathier than expected, and his hand snakes around the back of Taehyung’s neck to drag him into a kiss.

The black-haired boy squeaks in surprise at the first contact, but quickly he’s melting, reaching up to grasp blindly at Jimin’s shoulders with a whimper. The reciprocation simultaneously relaxes Jimin and sends him into a frenzy, and he slides himself closer, between Taehyung’s parted legs to deepen the kiss.

If Jimin angles his head just right, his chin feels the slight prickle of Taehyung’s unshaven face, and he makes a noise of approval low in his throat, nipping at the lips that have swollen under his ministrations. Of course the idea wasn’t for kissing Y/n, but if Taehyung could kiss that good with his scruff, Jimin couldn’t imagine what a joyride Y/n was in for when she’d feel that between her thighs. Jimin grins into the kiss at the thought.

The air is thick with arousal and peaches, and the heady combination has Jimin needing more, tongue slipping out to lave over Taehyung’s lips. The younger man whimpers, and Jimin takes the opportunity of his open mouth to run his tongue along Tae’s, leaning further and further forward until their chests are pressed together.

With a needy gasp, Taehyung pulls away, turning his head just slightly to the side to suck in some air, eyes blown with lust. “Are- Jimin?” he stutters out incoherently, the sound of his panting rivalled only by the sloshing of the water that their movements have stirred up.

Jimin’s heart races; thrill on top of arousal on top of concern, his grin falling. “Do you not want to?”

Taehyung narrows his brows like he doesn’t comprehend, and glances around the room. “But there are no cameras?” he supplies, voice lilting at the end like a question.

“I know,” Jimin explains, feeling his own brain struggling to keep time, “I don’t want the cameras.”

“Then…” The lost look on Taehyung’s face breaks Jimin’s heart, and he resists the urge to press a kiss right between his brows, where a crease has formed.

Jimin wills his heart to slow, taking a deep breath. “I- I think for once, I want to have sex not because it’s my job, but because I want to get closer to someone. I know you watch my videos, but… Taehyung, would you want to have sex with me? Just… just me? Not Park Jimin?”

Taehyung tilts his head, a confused smile beginning to tug at his lips. “But you are Park Jimin-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jimin cuts him off, leaning back to get out of the tub. “It was stupid and I shouldn’t have-”

“Minnie.”

Jimin freezes, eyes finding Taehyung’s with a wide stare.

The younger boy’s gaze is soft behind black curls, imploring. “I like you, you know? It was never the videos or the persona. Just you. Whether we have sex or not, you should know that.”

The backs of Jimin’s eyes sting. He ignores it, instead settling back down into the now-lukewarm water. “I-” But it’s too much. He doesn’t know what to say, how to deal with the words he hasn’t heard for years and years. So instead, Jimin just cracks a shy smile, heart easing. “I do still kinda wanna have sex with you, though.”

Taehyung laughs, wide and squared, his eyes little crescent moons. “I want to have sex with you, too,” he assures. “Shall we continue?”

Jimin feels his lips stretch instinctively into a smile, before he’s leaning in and pressing them to Taehyung’s again.

Kissing Taehyung feels good; it’s more addictive and heady than he’s ever felt it in years, bar that night with Y/n. Letting his own want and desire take over instead of worrying about camera angles, lighting, viewers - is this why people like it so much?

Taehyung seems to enjoy it, too, gasping into Jimin’s mouth. The blue-haired man can feel the tickle of Taehyung’s lashes as his eyes flutter with every stroke of his tongue, and Jimin swallows a groan wondering what he’ll sound like later if he’s this responsive now.

Testing it out, he runs a hand up Taehyung’s side, seeking out a dusky brow nipple, wet with steam from the tub, and thumbs at it. Back arching suddenly, the masseuse moans into Jimin’s mouth, reaching both hands up to bury his fingers in Jimin’s hair to anchor him.

Jimin continues to circle and flick at it until Taehyung is positively squirming under his touch. Only then does he let his hand slide down again, this time delving beneath the warm embrace of the water, seeking out the hard length between Taehyung’s legs.

“Fuck,” Taehyung gasps out when he feels fingers wrapping around his cock, not stroking yet but with enough pressure to make him need more. “Want you inside me, Jimin.”

“Yeah?” Jimin confirms breathlessly with a grin. Fingers trailing lower, he easily locates the tight ring of muscle, making the younger man groan as he presses gently at the rim with a single fingertip. “Have you done this before?”

“Bottomed?” Taehyung questions. “Of course. I’m fine, hyung.”

Instead of responding, Jimin takes a moment to lift up one of Taehyung’s knees, unfolding it so that it rested over the edge of the tub. Wide-eyed, the masseuse lets Jimin give the same treatment to the other, until he’s spread open, ass no longer quite reaching the bottom as he floats in the water.

Though he can hear the spatter of water on the tile, dripping off Taehyung’s legs, Jimin ignores it and begins to work a finger past the boy’s rim, drinking in his groans as it sinks inside.

Water isn’t the best lubricant, so Jimin goes slowly, and it’s only once Taehyung grows restless with just one finger that Jimin starts to use two. It takes a moment, but as he crooks his fingers just right, Taehyung lets out a shaky cry, clenching down suddenly. “Just there?” Jimin questions with a wry smile.

Taehyung’s thighs tremble. “Right there, hyung, fuck.” The black-haired boy fusses so beautifully as Jimin continues to stretch him out, pads of his fingers focussing on that sensitive bud of tissue inside. “I-I’m ready, Minnie, I need you.”

Jimin’s heart hitches at the nickname again, and his cock throbs at the thought of finally being able to fuck him. “Are you sure?” he checks one last time, receiving a hasty nod.

The moment Jimin slowly bottoms out, hips flush against Taehyung’s ass, he knows he’s not going to last long. Luckily, Taehyung seems to share the sentiment, groaning obscenely and clutching at his own length, hissing at the contact.

“Fuck, Tae-tae, you feel so good,” Jimin sighs as he begins to set a languid but deep pace. It was natural for his tongue to run during sex; dirty talk was huge in his industry, and sometimes he felt like part of him ran on autopilot during his scenes. Slutty pussy this, dumb cock that; but this didn’t even feel like dirty talk to him. As he buried himself in Taehyung over and over, it felt closer to a confession.

“Ah, Minnie,” Taehyung whimpers, beginning to stroke himself in time, chest arching out of the water, “kiss me.”

His eyes are dark with lust but puppy-soft as he blinks up under his lashes at Jimin, and it’s impossible to resist. Not that he wants to, when Taehyung’s lips feel so perfect on his.

The younger boy whimpers delicately into Jimin’s mouth when they’re joined again, and Jimin feels his high creeping up on him. Embarrassingly fast, he’d think normally, but he doesn’t feel embarrassed now.

“I’m close,” he whispers quickly to Taehyung, picking up the pace so that the water sloshes loudly around them, bubbles dissolving.

Taehyung groans, wraps his free arm around Jimin’s shoulders to hold himself closer, and speeds up his hand. “Me too,” he confesses, “cum inside, Minnie.”

With a low curse, Jimin is spilling inside Taehyung, hips stuttering their pace. Taehyung chases his lips through his own orgasm, gasping so much that he can barely reciprocate. It feels dirty and exquisite; the way their lips and tongue join so messily together, shuddering in unison as pleasure wracks their bodies.

Once Jimin finally comes down from his high, he’s panting. Hair damp from the steam and face hot, for once he doesn’t worry about if his o-face was attractive or his voice gravelly enough. He feels beautiful.

---

Taehyung’s nowhere to be found by the time you and the other boys finish lunch, and so there’s nobody to protest when Jin suggests the two of you can look after Mango.

Although not trained, Mango is nonetheless polite, and it’s far past sunset by the time Jin and you finish up your photoshoots and online shopping, Jin happily spending a fortune on a dog bed, pedigree food and enough toys for a whole kennel. He insists it’s because Sejin would have his ass if he asked the producer to spend more of the show’s funds, but that doesn’t stop the therapist spamming Sejin’s personal cell with pictures and messages, determined to make a point.

The two of you are exhausted from a day well spent as you snuggle lazily in Jin’s bed, a laptop propped up on your lap as you yawn away to a documentary on squirrels.

“We can go to sleep if you want,” Jin reminds you as a deep baritoned narrator explains the child-rearing techniques of female squirrels. “It’s past midnight.”

“You’re past midnight,” you retort sleepily, before your brain catches up with you. “Ah. No. Maybe you’re right.”

With a teasing smile and kind eyes, Jin takes the laptop away, plugging it in on his desk before returning back. “I’m glad, you know,” he muses as he slips under the covers again, your arms and legs immediately latching onto his frame.

Once he settles, you place your head on his chest, the internal beating of his heart a soothing metronome. “Glad about what?”

“Glad that this week’s challenge was you sleeping in different beds. I never got to sleep beside you that first night.”

“You could’ve,” you point out.

“It was only the first night,” he allows, voice rumbling in his chest, “I didn’t want to cross any lines and you fell asleep before I could get an answer.”

You hum, snuggling closer even as your whole body is pressed against him. He’s just so warm, and he feels so safe when he wraps his arm under and around you, holding you there. “I was gonna seduce you,” you whine with a yawn. “Tonight, I mean. You didn’t fuck me before so I was gonna seduce you. But you smell so good. I just wanna sleep.”

Jin seems to share the sentiment, muffling the yawn he caught from you. “You can seduce me in the morning.”

“Promise?”

Jin laughs, wincing when it jostles you violently on his chest. “Fuck, sorry. But yes, I promise. Now go to sleep. I’ll be here.”

Your hand unconsciously finds the collar of his pyjama shirt, clutching at it. You feel the warmth of his hand wrapping around it, flipping it over to lace his fingers through yours. You think you could stay here forever, but perhaps tonight is a good place to start. “Goo’night,” you mumble.

Jin’s voice is barely audible, naught a whisper, but you feel it in his chest. “Night, sweetheart.”

[kim-ruzek]

It’s been a week since the finales and while I’m over the moon about fire, I’m still so conflicted over pd, specifically Adam and how he talked to Kevin.

I know they’re brothers and the show will have them get over this, but if my white friend said what Adam did? I wouldn’t look at them the same way. I’d lose a lot of love/respect that I had for them.

And a lot of people (of a certain color) are saying it’s not a big deal because of the situation? But like those are his real thoughts, his filter is just gone. Maybe I’m just being too sensitive tho.

I’d love to hear your take on this. If your comfortable sharing it.

I've been thinking of this ask all day, of how to answer it. Because honestly, I have SO many thoughts on this, but I was debating if I should say them all or just sum up but I decided that I'm just gonna speak my mind!!

I, too, have a lot of complexed and conflicting thoughts over this. And I have to say, with stuff like this, with racial issues, you can NEVER be too sensitive.

Firstly, I agree. Kev and Adam are brothers, and the show will have them get over this, it wouldn't be realistic otherwise. But I really do hope they do it in a good, believable and decent way. Because I also agree with what you said about if my white friend said that shit? A little bit of my love and respect for them would be forever tarnished-- at least until I see some REAL improvement, which would take a minimum of a year to properly heal.

This fandom is a real good fandom, but yeah, I HAVE seen a lot of white fans not treating this like the big deal it is. The majority DO accept it's a big deal, but at the same time, they don't seem to truly get just how big, like how they think Kevin and Adam will have to move on from this is quite watered down.

Now, where I stand:

I watched cpd for Kim, Adam and Kev. I got into it for Burzek, and fell so hard in love with Kevin immediately. So when Kevin and Adam fight, I find it really hard because they're my boys! But it's necessary, and I think will help them become even more tight once Adam gets his head screwed on straight.

I do agree that they're his "real thoughts", but my take is that it's a little more complicated than that. Like Adam is a bit of a hothead, and that moment? He was more scared than he's ever been, and Kev, in his mind, is the only other person who loves Kim as much so when Kev did what Adam took as a "betrayal", Adam was angry. And that was shitty. And he should be accountable for that, AND for what he said.

But I think calling them his real thoughts is a little simplistic. They're thoughts that's going to be in his mind a lot, obviously, because Adam doesn't fully get this. So there's two layers to this:

One: People say things out of anger. I've got a temper, and I keep it under control obviously, but it's there, and when you're angry, especially betrayed and hurt, you just want to hurt people the same way you are. And when it's someone you really, really love? You say things you have maybe thought when you were a little annoyed but rationality won and reminded you it's a stupid thought, things that you KNOW will hurt.

And I think that's what this was. Obviously you do this, no matter what the reason, you need to fucking apologize and grovel. Like I'm not saying you shouldn't because I really don't think that. Especially as someone who's said really hurtful things out of anger, I PASSIONATELY believe that you should be held to a high standard about your actions. Because anger is not good, it's an ugly emotion, and you have to fight it.

Two: I definitely think those things are stuff Adam has thought before. I mean, thoughts in anger rarely appears out of nowhere, they're there in the background. But this isn't necessary a bad thing, or makes Adam a bad person. Like we ALL have less than nice thoughts, it's human nature.

And for Adam, he tries, he really does, but the man just Does Not Get all the deep complexities of the police reform. So I think his stance is, he doesn't get it, but he goes along. There's been those times he's argued, but I think most of the time when he's confused, he kinda just...has one of those thoughts but doesn't express it because he KNOWS it's more complicated than that, even if he doesn't understand it.

So when Kevin and Adam fought, Adam got ANGRY, because he felt scared and betrayed, and that's when he voiced all these thoughts he's thought before but kept inside because even though he doesn't understand why or how, he knows it's more complicated. But he was angry because Kim was in danger, and suddenly, it didn't seem logical or rational to keep by book.

Okay so now I've said that, onto what I think this means and how I want this go moving forward.

Adam was a jerk. What he said to Kevin was such a low blow, and things are going to be fractured between those two. And I think nothing Adam feels towards Kev has changed, but I do think they'll be that little emptiness in Kev, because hearing your white best friend say that? Ugh. Pain.

In a general sense, I think they'll be fine. But they can't be as close as they were, without Kevin feeling some sort of distance without any closure.

So in season nine, we definitely need our boys to have a conversation. And not just one, but several. And we need to see Adam make some actual changes to his beliefs. Not just half assing it bc he knows he's wrong even if he doesn't understand the complexities of why, but actually challenging his own beliefs and learning.

I think one of my main problems with this fandom (the white fans) is how much emphasis is put on both Adam and Kev seeking each other out to have a conversation. That's just wrong-- Adam should be the one. None of this, fixing this, educating Adam is on this is NOT in any way, shape or form is on Kevin.

What Adam said is hurtful, and I think Kevin still loves Adam, still sees him as his brother. But siblings don't always get along, or even like each other, even if there's that I'll-die-for-you love. And I think that's where Kevin is at. Adam hurt him, and that's gonna do some damage, and so even though Kev does understand, he's not gonna seek him out or try to fix it AS HE SHOULDN'T, because that onus is purely on Adam's shoulders.

Like. I think what white fans don't get is just how exhausting it is always having to understand, always having to be patient. Like yeah white people don't get the ins and outs like we do, so we're forced to always be understanding bc while we have to learn these things from our first days, they're just learning now. But it's exhausting, so that's why I really hope they have Adam seek Kev out, not have Kev approach him to talk about this.

(it's always why I love how they had Kevin full on yeet Adam, and beat the crap out of him. Poc always have been portrayed as patient when cruel remarks are hurled at us from people we love in anger, and I'm happy they showed Kevin snapping. Bc that was not on, and Kevin was just as worried about Kim, and Adam implying otherwise is wrong. It's also though why I also love that as soon as they were pulled apart, Kev stopped fighting/looking so angry quicker than Adam).

Like I'd be okay with Kev just saying, simply, to Adam "you don't ever say that stuff to me again." And that's that. But for them to actually have a conversation about this, has to come from Adam and HAS to start with an apology.

And Adam has to actively do better. Like no more just accepting things are different even if he doesn't understand, he HAS to learn everything, all the ins and outs, all the complexities, until he lives and breathes it as much as any white man can. Because I can't see Kevin having what was fracture ever feeling completely solid again without that.

And I do like that the show went there, because it's necessary and I think it's the best position for Adam to realise just how Shitty he was. Because Kim was found-- by the book. Like most of his anger was from how in the past, they've gotten their results by being off book, so I think in Adam's mind, he thinks that's the best way to secure safety. But it was by the book that found Kim, and I think that will really make Adam realise that these enforced policies DON'T make it harder to secure their own safety.

Also, Adam's presumably going to spend a lot of time around Makayla, and so forth, will probably get a lot of firsthand experience of seeing racism or it's affects. Like I know we wish he'd see if bc of Kev, and he does with a lot, just not other stuff, but it's different when you're seeing it through the eyes of a little kid, not a grown adult. And I think this will make Adam a lot more humble, which will help patch things up between him and Kevin.

And then there's Kim. People often forget how when you have multiple white friends, when you're hurt, your more knowledgeable friend steps in. Kim gets this stuff a lot more than Adam, even if she can never understand like Kev, and so I can COMPLETELY see her teaching Adam more stuff. Like because she'd want to help her boys, because Adam's a part of Makayla's life, because Kevin shouldn't HAVE to be the one to educate Adam, whereas Kim can bring him up to her own level, and that's when they rely on Kev.

So I think overall, I'm not that conflicted over PD because I'm really hoping this will spark deeper conversations and that Adam will grovel and fix his ignorant stances. And I hope to god they let Kevin heal and forgive in the way he should be allowed to.

I have a LOT more thoughts on this, including how I hate that they only show Adam's ignorance when a lot of the unit is also Not Great, and about partnerships and how Jay and Kev should be going forward. But this is getting really long now, so I won't delve into that or this any further. But I might, especially if it's wanted, because I have so many thoughts.

Also, thank you for sending me this ask!! I am ALWAYS comfortable sharing my thoughts on this fandom (about anything really, racism, sexism, ships ect) but especially the racism and the racial storylines and issues. Sorry it took so long to answer; I've been thinking on it all day, wanting to give you the best answer I could!!

[i-am-a-whimsy-boy]

Five. Straight. Miles. With. No. Breaks.

Nobody asked for more of me ranting about Murdoch's lack of health and safety awareness (part one here), but we're doing it anyway because I thought about this way too much and posting this gives me the illusion of that being productive. (There's a TL;DR at the end for anyone who doesn't want to read an essay today.)

Let's talk about season 1 episode 6, "Let Loose the Dogs" and how Murdoch put George in a situation where he could have very easily injured or even killed himself and Murdoch did not consider the danger here at all.

In this episode, Murdoch needs to figure out if it's possible to run from a pub to the scene of the murder in nine minutes, and, in order to do this, he gets George to make the run five times in a row and averages the time. We know it's an eighteen minute walk to the crime scene from the pub, meaning it's roughly a mile, and George runs this five times. What I'm saying is, Murdoch essentially made George run five miles straight all in one go.

In fairness, this might not be crazy intense for an in-shape person, but I have the athletic ability of a doorknob, so this seems absolutely terrible to me in the most ideal of circumstances, which, I don't believe George was running in. Regardless, if we assume his average time is around nine minutes, then he was running for somewhere around 45-50 minutes straight, likely pushing himself to run faster in order to get a faster time or to impress Murdoch. If his endurance isn't above par, that's quite a lot of prolonged physical activity, even if he was drinking water and taking breaks, which he probably wasn't.

This is a bit of speculation on my part, but since we don't see a water jug anywhere with Murdoch, I'm willing to bet that George wasn't drinking water at all during his runs. Without water, your body can't make sweat to cool you down and release some of the heat produced when you exercise. I'm sure we all know this, but it's vital to stay hydrated, especially when you're going to be exerting yourself. More speculation, but Murdoch definitely values efficiency, so I'm assuming he made George run from the pub to the bridge and back and counted that round trip as two separate runs, thereby cutting out the time needed to walk back and start again. We only see the tail end of George's final run, ending at the bridge, so we don't know if Murdoch gave him any breaks, but knowing Murdoch, he probably kept break time to a minimum, if he thought about getting George to take breaks at all.

Resting when you're exercising or otherwise exerting yourself is important to avoid injury and to allow your body to cool down, especially in hot weather. Season 1 of Murdoch Mysteries takes place during 1895, and judging by the weather in the episode, it's during early to mid summer. I'm going to say early July. The Government of Canada has historical weather data available going back to the 1840s, and in July of 1895, the average temperature in Toronto was around 19° C, with a high average of 24° C and an extreme high of 32° C (source). Temperatures also averaged in the higher range in the first week of the month (the 4th through to the 8th had highs of around 30° C with almost no rain, and that extreme monthly high of 32° C happened during this week). Caution is recommended in 25° C weather to avoid heat exhaustion and heatstroke. 30° C and above is considered dangerous. George was sprinting five straight miles with no water and no breaks: definitely not exercising caution. In heat like that, especially with no breaks or water, it wouldn't be very hard to contract heat exhaustion or exertional heat stroke, both of which can be very dangerous, and the latter can even be fatal. Exertional heat stroke happens when your body produces more heat than it can lose because of overexertion or high temperatures, and the high core body temperatures it causes can very quickly start damaging organs, including the brain and the heart. It's a medical emergency. Since George is constantly moving and producing heat and he has no water for his body to make sweat with, he's practically begging for heat stroke.

This whole thing seems incredibly dangerous to me and I'm honestly surprised the poor guy didn't collapse.

I really want to know what Murdoch would have done if he was sitting there on the bridge waiting for George to finish his run and George just didn't come because he passed out somewhere over the course of the run. Murdoch didn't have anything with him other than a pocket watch, a notepad and a pencil. Best case scenario, he could have submerged George in the creek that the bridge went over in order to cool him off, but if he had collapsed earlier in the route, he wouldn't have any realistic cooling methods available other than, like, fanning with his hands or that notebook he had, which would have been much less effective than water. A person can survive with a core temperature of around 40° C for about thirty minutes before serious organ damage starts setting in. I'm not convinced Murdoch could have cooled George down fast enough to avoid that. If George had gotten heat stroke, I'm willing to bet that he'd probably have died.

Even if George didn't get heat stroke, he still could have gotten really painful muscle cramps or gotten hurt in other ways. I was in a lifeguard training once and I wasn't super well hydrated and I got a leg cramp bad enough that I couldn't walk, let alone swim. I was having problems with my leg for days afterward. George could have gotten a similar cramp, and, if one had struck while he was running, the resulting fall could have injured him further, especially since he was running through the woods. Who knows what he might have hit his head on had he fallen?

I realize that, if George had said to Murdoch, "sir, I need a break," Murdoch would definitely have let him take one, but George isn't very good at advocating for himself. He tends to do what he's told and not question it or ask for anything different. George just takes things in his stride, even when he gets the short end of the stick, and I don't think he would have asked for a break if he needed one. Regardless, George shouldn't have had to have asked because Murdoch should have planned for breaks. It shouldn't be a surprise to Murdoch that people need breaks when they're exerting themselves.

The most annoying thing is that Murdoch compensated George's running times for exhaustion, meaning that he knew George would get tired and he knew he had to tweak the calculations in order to get an even average. You know what would have made Murdoch's averaging even better, and would have eliminated the need to compensate at all? Having a larger goshdarn sample size. If Murdoch had gotten multiple constables to make the run and averaged all of theirs, he'd have gotten a more even and realistic average and he wouldn't have had to take exhaustion into account. There's a reason most scientific studies are based on a sample of the population and not case studies of single individuals: because it's better and it represents the population as a whole better. I bet Murdoch could have rounded up five constables and made them run a mile with no trouble at all. Some of them would probably have enjoyed it! But no, for some reason, he has to torture George instead.

It's like Murdoch is unaware there are literally dozens of other constables at Station House Four at his disposal.

TL;DR: Murdoch made George run five straight miles with no breaks in hot, summer weather when he could have gotten better results with more constables; George could have gotten seriously ill, hurt or killed; and I am questioning my sanity.

[join-the-joywrite]

But suddenly from somewhere out of the blue, I see a different light around you.

For Anon: Julie and Luke, family friends, end up sick together. While cooped up sick at Julie's, a little conversation leads to a lot of secrets.

A/N: skdjje I am so sorry it took me this long to get to it sjjdje and this kind of got away from me once I finally got into writing it oops.

Special thanks to @i-spit-on-fire for the title!! Love you, doll 🥰

Julie Molina had a great friend circle. She loved each of them equally. Well, maybe Flynn got a bit more than everyone else but then again, Flynn had also seen Julie throwing up the last time she had food poisoning so maybe Flynn deserved a little extra love for sticking around past that.

The only person in the circle that could contend for Flynn's level of appreciation in Julie's eyes was Luke Patterson. And it was only because her mom and his dad were childhood friends, which, naturally, led to Julie and Luke growing up childhood friends.

Despite their close friendship, Luke and Julie rarely interacted at school. They had their own, smaller, circles and that was perfectly okay. Their circles merged after Luke and his friends played live music for Julie's theater performance when the radio gave out without warning. Well, to get more specific, it was some time after Alex and Willie started dating and involving both their friends on lunches and hangouts.

So yeah, things were great, school was fun and they all had a bunch of fun together. They even planned to visit an amusement park that Saturday too.

Unfortunately, the trip to the amusement park seemed like it was gonna have to wait.

"I told you not to hug me," Julie grumbled through her stuffy nose.

Luke pulled a face for her. "I didn't. I hugged my mom and then you hugged my mom. I'm not at fault here."

Julie sighed. "You think she's sick, too?"

"Nah, mom's got a great immune system. She probably just has a slight cough."

Just then a coughing bout overtook Julie. Leaning forward in her chair, she took a few deep breaths, relaxing as she felt Luke's hand moving in slow circles on her back. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal and the sharp ache in her forehead subsided. When she sat back again, she leaned her head against Luke. "I hate being sick. This is all your fault."

"We've just been over this. I didn't hug you."

"Potato, pot-ah-to."

Luke rolled his eyes. "You know you're heavy, right?"

Julie's response was to stop half-supoorting herself and drop all her weight on Luke's side, nearly sending them both off their chairs.

"If you weren't so sick, I'd . . . I'd pinch you!"

"You mean, if you had the energy to do it."

"Yeah, whatever," Luke managed to say before he coughed too, albeit much less than Julie. "Think your mom will drop me home?"

"You live right next door, idiot. Obviously."

When Rose walked into the nurse's office, she sighed at the two teens. "We told you two to stay at home. Come on, let's go."

As Rose pulled into her driveway, Luke thanked her for the ride.

"Where do you think you're going, mijo?"

"H-home?" Luke asked uncertainly, his hand on the door handle.

"Your parents are out of town for the weekend."

"Yeah," Luke nodded, "I was gonna stay over at Bobby's but I don't wanna make him sick--"

"Well, Julie's already sick anyway. You can stay with us and when you're feeling better, you can go over to Bobby's."

"But--"

"Mijo, I'm not asking," Rose said, staring at Luke in the rearview mirror, daring him to get out of the car.

Julie snickered at the fear in his eyes as he settled back into the seat and waited until Rose had pulled further up towards the house before attempting to get out again.

"Why don't you two go get comfortable on in the living room, hm? I'll put some food up for you and it'll be ready before you even know it."

Julie yawned as she trudged past Rose and into the house. "Can we sleep instead?"

"Absolutely. Go get some rest, okay? Luke, if you're tired, you can sleep in Carlos' room. He's spending the week with Victoria so it's all yours if you need, okay?"

"Thank you," Luke managed before a yawn interrupted him.

Rose ruffled Julie's hair first, then Luke's. Now, what could she feed them that they'd manage to keep down?

"Sorry I made you sick," Luke mumbled.

Julie shrugged. "It's okay. Flynn said she was gonna drag me on the biggest rollercoaster first so in a way, I'm kinda glad we won't be going tomorrow."

Luke rolled his eyes. "You do this everytime we go. Just get on the rollercoaster. It's not that much bigger than the one we went on last time."

Julie stared at Luke over her bowl of soup. "I passed out."

Luke shrugged. "It makes for a good story!"

"For you!"

"Don't yell, Julie, you don't have the lung capacity."

Julie scrunched up her nose and mocked Luke in a high voice. "You don't have the lunch capacity."

"Oh, real mature."

Julie blew a raspberry at Luke. A raspberry that turned into a cough. Luke was out of his blanket in a second.

"Julie?" Rose called from the kitchen. "You good, baby?"

"I got it!" Luke called back. He knelt in front of Julie as she hunched over and rubbed her back in small circles. "Easy, Jules," he murmured.

"I hate being sick," Julie said for the umpteenth time, resting her chin on Luke's shoulder.

Luke froze, one hand on Julie's arm, the other on her back. What was he supposed to do now? Just . . . hold her?

"I know," he said soothingly, "you'll get better quickly, don't worry."

"Ugh, I hope so." Slowly, Julie pulled away and eased back into the couch.

Luke pouted, only because he wanted to stay holding Julie in a gentle and comfortable embrace. He scrunched his nose up and quickly shook his head. What the hell was that all about?

He was back in his corner of the couch, under his blanket, when Rose arrived with a glass of water for each of them.

"I'm going to get dinner running and when I come back to check on you two, those glasses better be empty."

"Yes, mom," they chorused.

It wasn't really a big thing. Luke called her 'mom' often. Julie even called Emily 'mom' if she happened to be over at Luke's. But that didn't take away from Rose's (or Emily's) absolute delight over being called mom by her honorary child.

"Sorry I made fun of you when you first got sick," Julie mumbled.

"It's okay," Luke said with a slight laugh, half paying attention to Julie and half paying attention to the TV. They'd taken a good nap and were already feeling better. "Karma got you, I guess."

"I guess."

"You got it bad, though," Luke said, glancing at Julie. "I never coughed like that."

"Exhibit A of why I utterly detest being sick. The headache is unbearable sometimes." Julie gave Luke a small smile. "But it's okay. I should already be feeling better by tomorrow."

Julie turned her gaze back to the TV. Luke didn't. He kept his gaze on Julie, watching her carefully. He'd always had the natural inclination to want to care for Julie, but until then it had always been small things. Wanting to make sure her cuts and scrapes got a band-aid. Wanting to check in with a simple text when she was sick. Wanting to be sure her work was up to date when she missed out.

But now . . . now it was a little different. It wasn't really strange, but he couldn't quite understand it. Why, when she complained about her headache, did he want to pull her close and try to distract her from it? Why, when she hunched over coughing, did he want to be by her side, holding her close and trying to ease the fit? Why, when she paid him no attention, did he want to just sit there and watch her?

Julie glanced back and Luke froze like a deer in headlights, his already pink cheeks growing redder. Julie grinned. "Is that the fever or are you shy about something?"

"Definitely the fever," Luke said quickly.

"Uh huh," Julie said with a grin, turning back to the TV again. "I think you're pretty cute too."

Luke shrank into his blanket. "I didn't say that."

"Your face said enough, Patterson."

"You really think I'm cute?"

Julie looked at Luke, who had the blanket wrapped over his head as he pouted at her. His flushed cheeks had calmed to the usual pink whenever he was running a fever. She couldn't help but smile. "The cutest."

He beamed. "I think you're pretty cute too. Wait, that's what you said--"

"Cute," Julie mumbled under her breath, shaking her head and turning back to the TV. She was surprised by Luke suddenly dropping his head in her lap. She grinned, amused. "Hi, there."

"Hi. I want attention."

"Well, mom said she was just gonna make sure Carlos' room is clean enough for you to walk without getting impaled by a Lego brick but I'm sure she'd be happy to listen to your gibberish when she's all done."

"I want your attention."

"And I wanna watch the season finale."

Luke turned over to glance at the TV. "You've seen this episode at least six times. I know because five of them were at my house and youd already seen it once before that."

Julie flicked Luke's nose lightly. "It's my favourite, leave me be."

"Fine, but I'm staying here."

"Okay, just be quiet."

Luke felt like he had left the land of the living when he felt Julie's fingers in his hair. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing and somehow, the fact that she was playing with his hair on autopilot made him giddy.

"Can you put this on the table for me, please?" Julie asked absently, resting her empty glass on Luke's shoulder.

He did as she asked, just managing to reach the coffee table.

"Thank you."

Bored but unwilling to move, Luke began to pick at the threads on Julie's bracelets. She rested her hand on his chest, knowing he'd start whining if she took the bracelets away.

"Who made this one for you?"

Julie glanced at her arm to see Luke playing with a blue string, her name strung on in letter beads, a star bead on either side. "You did."

"Really?"

"I think we were about eight or nine. That was when Flynn got her bracelet set and we spent so many lunches making bracelets. You got jealous because I kept wearing Flynn's bracelets so you made one for me yourself."

"Huh," Luke said, "I don't remember, though."

"Not surprising. You were running a fever then, too. A pretty high one. Your mom gave you cough syrup and you got a burst of creative inspiration. Haven't you heard her tell the story? It's one of her favourites."

"I hear the words 'when Luke was little' and I instantly tune it out."

Julie laughed. "Sounds about right."

Luke watched the smile linger on Julie's face as she watched the episode she knew by heart. God, she was so pretty.

Luke scrunched his nose up again. Yeah, Julie was pretty and yeah, he'd always known that. But in the way he knew Flynn was beautiful and Carrie was stunning. In the way he knew Reggie was adorable and Bobby was cute and Alex was a gorgeous. In the way he knew Willie was magnificent. It was just something he'd always known. He and his friends were hot as hell and that was just a fact that they all seemed to know.

But laying with his head in Julie's lap, watching her unconsciously smile at his own antics, it seemed like a brand new thought. How could someone he'd known his whole life suddenly look different?

"Julie."

"Hm?" Julie didn't look away from the TV.

"You're really pretty."

"Thank you," she said, smiling wider. She lightly tugged a lock of his hair. "You're pretty, too."

"No, I mean, like, really pretty. Like . . . ultra pretty."

Julie scowled at Luke. "What did you do?"

"Nothing! I just . . . I just really like your smile. It's so. . ."

"Pretty?"

Luke nodded. He poked her cheek lightly. "I like when you smile."

"Yeah?" Even if she wanted to, she couldn't hold back a smile.

Luke smiled too. "Yeah."

Caught up with Luke's spontaneous declaration, Julie mised her favourite part of the episode -- the one where they finally had their first date. But Luke didn't.

"When we get better," he said slowly, "when we're not sick anymore . . . Do you think we could go out together? Maybe next weekend?"

Julie nodded. "Absolutely. Flynn already texted about rescheduling--"

"No. No, I mean . . . like a date. Just you and me."

"Oh," Julie said softly, eyes wide.

"Oh? Julie, 'oh' is what you say when you get socks for Christmas."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm just . . . surprised. I thought I worked out this crush thing and then here you are, asking me out and all I can think is that I wasted so much energy trying to stifle it all down when I could've just asked you out myself like two years ago."

Luke blinked up at Julie. "So, is that a yes or a no? I'm a little confused."

"Oh, only a little? Yes, you dork."

Luke suddenly yawned.

"Tired?"

"Only a little."

"Go to sleep," Julie said, using the same tone Rose had used on them both earlier.

Luke thought it was going to be pretty difficult to fall asleep when Julie was sitting there, threading her fingers through his hair like she had no idea how fast she made his heart beat. But it barely took him a minute before he was out completely. With a yawn of her own, Julie quickly followed.

Carrie snickered softly. "Quick!" she whispered. "They're waking up!"

"Okay!" Willie whispered back. "Okay, hold it up."

The bunch of them gathered behind the ridiculously large cardboard posted they'd thrown together the moment they arrived after the text from Rose.

Blinking tiredly, Julie and Luke sat up and took a few seconds to focus on the grinning faces in front of them.

"Congratulations!"

Julie and Luke both turned several shades redder (not by any fault of their ebbing fevers) as the group thrust the banner forward. It's about damn time.

"Shut up," Julie mumbled, retreating under her blanket to hide her face.

Luke scowled. "You could've said something!"

"Watching was funnier," Alex admitted.

As he did, the front door opened and in walked Ray. He took one look at the scene before him and groaned. "I can't believe I lost a full ten dollars."

"You bet on us?" Julie shrieked, throwing the blanket off.

"Well . . . yeah," Ray said, "your Tia is very persuasive."

Julie shrank back into the blanket, groaning in embarrassment.

Rose gasped. "Someone get Emily on the phone! She owes me five dollars!"

"Mom!"

But despite the embarrassment that was their family, Julie and Luke were very happy to have finally admitted their feelings -- to themselves and to each other.

Neither of them could wait for next weekend.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

77 Minutes | Five Hargreeves

✦ pairing — Five Hargreeves x Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 1.7k

✦ summary — you’re not having a good day — Five isn’t either and things only seem to be getting worse.

✦ warnings — spoilers for season 2, some angst, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of death, language, a little bit of fluff.

════════════════════════

You were having a bad week, and that day only proved that it would get worse if you didn’t find a solution quickly.

Luther and Diego had been in the middle of threatening to kill a lady through the phone when you arrived, Elliot was dead, you didn’t know where Five was, and you were on a time limit to save the world.

There was also the fact that you hated your temporary job, but that was a petty complaint. People were the worst, honestly, you were still getting used to being around them after years only around Five.

Five sadly stared at Elliot, covering him with the sheet Luther had draped over him again.

“Are you okay?” he asked you, eyes analyzing your face and body in search for injuries.

“I wasn’t here when it happened,” you assured him, observing the curling and uncurling of his blood-stained fingers around the handle of the briefcase he was carrying.

Unfazed by the familiar sight before you, slightly bothered by the fact that taking blood off white clothes had never Five’s most developed skill, you rummaged through the belongings you had bought hours ago.

He stored the briefcase in a safe spot, immediately trying to shimmy his blazer off.

Walking into the bathroom as Diego and Luther questioned him, he gave you a thankful nod when the clean shirt caught his attention.

It wasn’t like you could blame them for being shocked by the sight of Five covered in blood, but you didn’t want to partake in the interrogatory. You knew better. They should have known better, too.

“Five,” Luther pressed, “what did you do?”

Five cursed, shaky hands worsening the red splotches on his shirt as he tried to take his vest off.

You gently removed his hands, helping him to slide the item off and dropping it to the side.

He grunted in acknowledgment, not in the mood to anger you by ignoring your actions. As attractive as he found your angry version, he was tired.

He made a motion with his finger for you to turn around. You did so, facing Diego and Luther as you heard him run more water.

The shuffling behind you helped you guess what he was doing. You rested your head on the doorway, watching Luther fumble with his luggage as he struggled to open it.

“You can face me again, sweetheart.”

The uncharacteristic soft tone caught you off guard. Five could get to be extremely sweet if he wanted, but there was something off this time. He was a private person, not the type of person to use pet names in front of his siblings.

“So I found a way home,” he announced, putting his tie back on.

“What?” Luther inquired, too surprised to be able to hide it. “How?”

“All the details are irrelevant, but... I made a deal to get back to our timeline.”

The shakiness in his voice got on your nerves. Five wasn’t one for getting antsy, much less when solving a problem. And what kind of deal was he talking about?

“What about doomsday?” Diego asked the important question.

“Won’t happen.”

“And the 2019 apocalypse?” Luther followed Diego’s example.

“Everything will be back to normal. All right?” Five glared at his brothers. “Now, no more questions.”

Feeling as though the latter statement was directed at yourself, you followed him and his brothers.

Five put the blazer back on, declaring, “We gotta go. We have to find the others, right?”

He gave clear instructions. Luther would get Allison, Diego would get Klaus, he would get Vanya, you would bury Elliott.

“Now, we meet back in the arrival alley in 77 minutes.”

You frowned. Time limits when it came to time travel had never been a good sign.

He handed you and his brothers synchronized watches. You reached for your gloves, putting them on before clasping the watch on top.

Diego was skeptical. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on. You show up drenched in blood and expect us to believe everything’s gonna go back to normal if we go home now?”

“Elliot just got killed because of us,” Five sneered.

“What about dad? What about JFK?”

Here we go again...

“Diego, we have a chance to go home and make things right. We are taking it.”

“I have to say goodbye to Lila.”

“Lila doesn’t give a shit about you, Diego! She never did.”

You winced. That had been harsh, even for being something coming from Five. You could tell Diego really cared, he was failing miserably to hide his hurt.

“Lila is one of them. She’s a member of the Commission.”

“Not possible.”

“She was just using you to get to me.” Condescendingly, Five added, “You’re the Oswald of this story, my friend. The goddamned patsy.”

Raising his voice, Diego said, “Just because you found someone who is insane enough to want to be with you, doesn’t mean that everyone wants you.” He turned to look at you briefly, “no offense, you’re lovely, but in—“

Five interrupted his brother, approaching him and hissing, “If you don’t do this, I’ll kill you myself. Got it?”

You were truly worried now. That had been unprompted. Before you could say or ask anything, Five teleported. The whooshing sound made you cringe for the first time since you met him.

With a sigh, you kept yourself from entering in a self-absorptive moment. Everything would be okay in less than 70 minutes, there was no use in focusing on things that would only make you lose time.

Walking towards Elliot, you double-checked to make sure you had taken the car keys already.

Diego stopped you from carrying Elliot. “I’ll bury him after getting Klaus. He’s not far away from here.” You were about to deny him, but he pleaded in a low voice, “Please, (Name).”

Damn Diego and his puppy eyes. Nodding, you slid your hand into your pocket and withdrew the keys.

════════════════════════

Five paced. From left to right, from bottom to top. Luther shifted in his spot, checking his watch every few seconds.

Diego was nowhere to be seen, Vanya and Allison were late too. Five was shocked by the fact that a seemingly hangover Klaus had gotten there in time yet his more responsible siblings couldn’t be bothered.

The briefcase charged, Luther and you cursed sadly along with Five who threw the item off. As the briefcase disappeared, Five got angrier.

Sighing, he angrily lamented, “We were that close. That close!”

“Now what?”

“Now nothing, Luther. All right? Make your peace with God.”

“W—What?”

Luther’s confusion would’ve been endearing in any other circumstance, but you were sure Five was about to explode.

“What about Allison and Vanya?”

“Screw them both! They should have been here.”

“What about Diego?” Klaus chimed in.

“Screw Diego, all right? Screw everybody!” he yelled. “(Name) and I were better off on our own in the apocalypse.”

You looked down, avoiding Luther and Klaus. Five didn’t mean it, he would never mean something as brutal as that — not toward his siblings whom he had missed so deeply throughout those years.

Five tended to be hyperbolic, adrenaline got the best of him nine out of ten times. It had always worked in your favor until now. And even now, he must’ve been planning something else already.

“Five, come on!”

“You know what, Luther? It’s every sibling for himself now. How ‘bout that?”

Turning around, Five pulled the door open, slamming it shut after crossing the doorway.

Klaus whimpered, “Did Five just get meaner?”

“I’ll handle Five,” Luther assured. “You two go get the others.”

You shook your head. “It’s my fault that Diego isn’t here, I’ll talk to Five. You two follow the plan to get the others and I’ll see you here later.”

Walking up the stairs, you perked your ears to assess where Five could’ve been. He was being dramatic, and he wanted to be found, perhaps even followed — you knew because he would’ve teleported if that wasn’t the case.

Five was still pacing in the bedroom. He didn’t acknowledge you as you entered, too busy mumbling things to himself.

You weren’t interested in deciphering whatever he was saying under his breath, you wanted him to tell you what was really going on.

And he knew, after so many years together he had to know. Resting your back on the wooden door, you patiently waited for him to be done.

His pent-up frustrations had never bothered you. Perhaps because you had met him in a stressful situation, but mostly because you loved him.

“I’m going to do the unthinkable.”

“Of course you are.”

Five stared at you through his eyelashes. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Then what do we have time for, Five?”

“I don’t want to fight. Not right now.”

“You just want to break the most important rule of time travel,” you deadpanned, mocking him.

“I killed The Board for nothing, (Name)!”

“We can fix it!”

“You’re not surprised? I wasn’t supposed to kill anymore!” He kicked the bed, huffing out of his nostrils.

“Oh, come on,” you breathed out, getting rid of the uncomfortable watch and leaving it on the first surface you found. “We will always be assassins, Five. The difference now is that we’re doing it on our own terms.”

Sitting down on the edge of the bed with his head between his trembling hands, he let out a sob.

God, what a fucking awful day. You pushed yourself off the door. Walking towards him, slowly in case he wanted to have space, you discarded your gloves.

Taking the spot on the bed beside him, you placed your hand on his back and rubbed it. When he didn’t make a move to push you away, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “It’s okay. I’m here with you.”

Shifting, he wrapped both arms around you as he buried his face in the joint of your shoulder and neck. His shaky frame under your embrace broke your heart.

“The Handler tricked me — there wasn’t supposed to be a time limit.”

If he wasn’t so distressed, you would’ve punched him for making a deal with The Handler from all people.

“Vanya tried to fight me earlier,” he sniffed, resting his cheek on your shoulder. “Then after promising she’d be here she couldn’t do a simple task.”

“Have you considered the possibility that something happened to her, Allison, and Diego?”

“Who knows,” he grunted. “We have other things to worry about now.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. Closing your eyes, you rested your head on top of his.

You just wanted a few minutes of silence in his embrace, holding him close like you used to after rough missions. And by the way his arms tightened around you, you asserted that he wanted the same.