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myheartrevealedocs · 4 years

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Untouchable Ch 6- The Fisher King: Part 1 (S1E22)

Summary: A Spencer Reid x OC fanfic that retells select episodes, starting in season 1, from the point of view of Lydia Ambers, a forensic scientist.

Warnings: swearing, murder, threats

Ch 5 | Ch 7

~ ~ ~

“Have you read any of the Sherlock Holmes stories?” Reid inquired, as he walked past Lydia’s temporary desk.

They’d just gotten back from a case and Lydia was hard at work to finish up any reports she had to give that night. She had recently set herself to a standard that she wouldn’t bring any work things to her apartment so that she could focus on her studies there.

“When I was in middle school,” she answered, not looking up from her file. “Why do you ask?”

“Your job on our team is very Sherlock Holmes-esque.” He continued standing to the side of her desk, patiently hoping she’d engage more with him.

And she did after he said that. “Out of the two of us, you think I’m Sherlock Holmes?” she laughed.

“Well, I’m not exactly comparing us to Holmes and Watson, I just…” He paused as he reached into his book bag and Lydia swiveled her chair to face him directly. “I found this collection of some of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories in my apartment and I thought you might like them, if you hadn’t read them before.” He waved the brick-sized book up for her to see. “Do you want them?”

Lydia was surprised, to say the least. She stared at him for a moment, with widened eyes. “You saw a Sherlock Holmes collection and… you thought of- thought of me?” It felt so stupid, but she wasn’t sure what else there was to say. It felt like a joke, but Lydia could see no reason for Reid to be playing her.

“Of course,” he chuckled. “You’re brilliant. You’re younger than me and we’re on the same team. Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

She shook her head wildly, the ends of her hair smacking her across the face. “I’m some lowly intern, Spencer. You were a supervisory special agent at the age of 23.”

“You could be, too,” he suggested. “You’ve got two more years to accomplish that.”

She stopped herself from shaking her head again and smiled down at her lap. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be an agent. I’ll stick to blood splatters and fingerprints.”

When she looked back up at him, she realized that he was still holding the book.

“Oh! I’d love to read some stories though,” she informed him. “If you’re sure you want to part with the book for a few weeks.”

“It’s not a problem,” he responded cheekily, setting it down on her desk. “You’ll have to call me and tell me what you think of the ones you read.”

She agreed and was watching him wander away when something struck her. “Oh, Spencer!”

He flipped on his heel, looking at her curiously. “Yeah?”

“You’re headed back to Vegas over your break, yeah? So I won’t be able to meet up with you at the cafe that week?”

He nodded.

She couldn’t help but glance at the gift he’d just given her. To borrow, of course, but it made her heart swell. “I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll be fine. You barely ask me for help on your courses anymore anyway. I think you’ve got it all figured out.”

A panic hit her as he left. Did he think she didn’t need him anymore? Was he going to leave her to get her PhD by herself now?

It wasn’t his job, but she’d figured he would be there to help her for every step of the way, as he had the past six months. But he was a genius, so if he said she could do it, shouldn’t she trust him?

Ehh… he was intellectual, but college relied on emotional and mental factors, too. If something unexpected happened, she might need him again. Why did it feel relieving to know that something might cause her to be incapable of doing this alone??

Oh fuck.

Oh no.

It wasn’t about the PhD at all.

No, no, no.

She had feelings for Spencer Reid.

~ ~ ~

“I know, my dear Watson, that you share my love of all that is bizarre and outside the conventions and humdrum routine of everyday life.”

Lydia allowed herself a few extra minutes to scan the pages of “The Red-Headed League” that evening after dinner. In the past few days, she’d read a few of the shorter of Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories, but had yet to talk to Spencer about them. He’d left for Las Vegas the previous day and she’d gotten the feeling that going home to his family was stressful for him, so she decided to give him some time to settle before speaking with him again.

Or at least, she thought she would.

Before she could truly invest herself in the book’s pages, she heard a brief knock at her door.

This job had really made her paranoid. She went totally silent, listening closely, but didn’t hear any voices or shuffling outside. Which was better than someone screaming at her to open the door or else they’ll kill her, but didn’t assuage her fears. No one she knew was in town. They’d all gone elsewhere for their vacation time with the exception of Hotch. Nor did they know where she lived to her knowledge. And if someone had accidently tapped against her door on their way down the hall, she would have heard them walking away… right?

She creeped towards the door, trying not to make any noise. If there was someone creepy out there, hopefully she could convince them no one was home and they’d leave. But there was no one outside that she could see from the peephole.

She was still afraid that someone might be hiding outside of the door’s line of sight, so she waited for a minute longer, looking out occasionally for any movement and listening closely. It wasn’t until she heard one of her neighbors leaving, a girl around her age who lived with her boyfriend down the hall, that she thought it was safe to open her door. If there was someone creepy waiting outside her door, her neighbor wouldn’t have acted so normal on her way past.

So, Lydia cracked the door open and looked down the hallway for anything out of place and found a small square package on the floor. There was no return address on it. On the top, written in Sharpie, was her name, apartment building, and room number.

That didn’t look good. But at that point, her fear of getting murdered was overtaken by immense curiosity. This had to have been hand delivered, but by who? The only people who would consider sending her a package were all in California.

She grabbed a nearby pair of scissors and slit the tape on the box to open it. And the inside was far stranger than the outside.

Inside was a singular orange prescription bottle. The label was made out to a Lady Blanchefleur for bupropion. She had no clue what the name meant, but the drug? That was targeted.

She was infuriated just by the sight of it and was ready to throw it out, but she saw a small slip of paper inside. She flipped the cap off and unrolled the small sheet.

SAVE HER.

What the hell was going on? Was someone trying to torment her about her past?

But who knew?

As much as she wanted to forget about the whole thing, Lydia knew something was messed up about this whole picture. Clearly whoever had sent this knew a lot about her history. More than she thought a single person did know about her life. It was terrifying and sickening to think about.

Gideon told her not to call while he was on his vacation time. He needed the time away from anything work related and she could understand that. And she didn’t want to bother Hotch when he finally had family time. The only other person on the team who she trusted with this information was…

Spencer.

It was still mid-afternoon where he was, so she figured a call at this time would be reasonable. And even if he told her it was nothing, she could really use a voice she could trust right now.

It took him a few rings to pick up. “Hey, sorry. What’s up?”

“Hey, Spencer? I just got a really weird package delivered to my door. It doesn’t have a return address, just my name and apartment room. And inside-”

“Lydia, don’t open that,” he said, quickly, but she huffed.

“I already opened it. It’s just an orange pill bottle. But inside, there’s a note that says ‘save her’. And I have no clue why someone would send me something like this.”

She could feel his exasperation across the country. “Next time, don’t open weird packages, yeah? But I’m not sure why you’d get something like that. Garcia and JJ are at the office right now. You should call one of them and have the package processed. Let me know what you find, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you. Sorry for bothering you.”

“You aren’t bothering me at all. I’m glad you called…” He cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Talk to you later, okay?”

“Talk to you later.”

~ ~ ~

“Lydia!” JJ cried upon seeing her enter the BAU the next day. “Thank god. Something really weird is going on.”

“Did they find anything on the package I got?” Lydia inquired and she was quick to shake her head.

“No. But Hotch had to go to Jamaica, because Elle was arrested for murder and Gideon got a package with a head inside it.”

“A head?!?” Oh god, she was lucky. “A human head?”

JJ nodded. “Hotch is clearing Elle’s name and then he’ll be back with her and Morgan. Oh, and don’t bug Garcia,” she warned. “Her computer system’s down. She thinks she got hacked. When I went in there she was freaking out.” Lydia opened her mouth to say more, but JJ was off again. “Gideon! I’ve been trying to call you.”

Lydia flipped around to see Gideon marching towards the two of them. “Why?”

“Someone sent you a head?” JJ demanded.

“From Jamaica.”

“Morgan and Elle are in Jamaica right now,” she explained. “There was a murder. The body was headless. Elle’s been arrested for it.”

“What?”

“Hotch headed down there last night with some bureau lawyers and a crime scene unit. He should be there by now.”

Gideon rubbed his forehead, looking beyond exhausted. Lydia wondered what he’d been doing when that head arrived at his cabin. He’d made it very clear to them his cabin was where he had time to himself and she felt so bad he’d been so grossly interrupted. “If you talk to him, have him call me right away.”

“Yes, sir,” JJ replied, and they both took off in different directions. Lydia considered sitting at her desk and finding a way to pass the time while this mess was figured out, but an agent stopped her and Gideon on their way into the bullpen.

“The baseball card, medication bottle, and notes from your packages,” the man said, handing her the evidence bags. “We processed them. There’s nothing. And we’re still working on identifying the head.”

“Try contacting the Montego Bay Police. Apparently they have a headless homicide victim.”

“Got it.” He took off and Gideon waved Lydia towards the round table room.

“Lydia, start setting up an evidence board. Whatever you’ve got.”

“Sure.”

She dashed away and began pinning the small items onto a corkboard. Gideon had received an envelope with the exact same ‘SAVE HER’ message on the outside and inside was a Nellie Fox baseball card. And her evidence bags included a small slip of paper and a medication bottle.

She hesitated putting the last item up. This bottle… it was personal to her. And as soon as it became evidence in a case, she’d have to come clean about its significance.

She huffed and stuck the pin in more forcefully than she meant to. It didn’t matter. She didn’t have any secrets. Whatever, right?

They didn’t have to know everything, did they? And maybe, this unsub just picked random information to put on the bottle. Completely coincidental.

Except JJ had said Garcia’s computer might have gotten hacked. Shit. The FBI’s databases probably had that information on file. As well as where she was currently living. So then, maybe the coincidence was actually the bottle? This person had no clue how she felt about those stupid, plastic cylinders. That made more sense logically.

In fact, the only thing that didn’t make any sense was the name. Lady Blanchefleur. White flower.

Lydia jumped out of the room and towards her desk, typing the name into a search engine.

Blanchefleur was a common French name in the Middle Ages. She was the heroine in a famous story titled “Floris and Blancheflour” although the spelling of the name and details of the story changed depending on when and where it was transcribed. The name was also given to two separate characters in tales of the Knights of the Round Table: the first being the mother of Sir Tristan and the second, the love of Sir Percival.

She scanned page after page for anything that might indicate why the unsub had chosen that name, but there was very little on the name in fiction or history. The tale of Floris and Blancheflour was a short and sweet romance, but she could find no connections to herself or the case in it. And in the case of the round table knights, the name had been mentioned, but the characters never appeared in the stories, so she didn’t have any leads on that detail.

She glanced up just in time to watch JJ rush from her office to Gideon’s, a wooden picture frame in her hand.

She growled and shut down her computer, knowing full well that she was about to get more evidence for the board. But so far, other than a body in Jamaica and a head in a box, none of these pieces fit together.

~ ~ ~

“Come on,” JJ told Lydia, making her way out of the round table room. “Hotch, Elle, and Morgan should be coming up now.”

Now, to add to their collection, they had a butterfly in a frame with the message ‘SHE HAS BEEN SEARCHED FOR BUT NEVER FOUND’ and the name of a man who’d disappeared from Jamaica following the mysterious murder, Frank Giles. Lydia had been staring at the board for an hour at least, completely zoned out, but she listened to JJ and followed her through the bullpen.

Their timing was perfect, finding the three colleagues in a circle just outside the BAU office.

“Hotch, I spent half the night in an interrogation room,” Elle was berating him. “I am not sleeping until I find this Frank Giles.”

“Frank Giles left Jamaica last night on the Red Eye,” JJ informed the group as she and Lydia joined the circle. “He flew to Florida and then got onto another flight to Virginia.”

“Virginia?” Elle snarled. “You mean that son of a bitch is from here?”

“I don’t know if he’s from here, but this is where he flew to. Arlington.” She looked over the page a different tech analyst had given her. “He’s got a long criminal record. Manslaughter, robbery, rape.”

“What about the victim?” Morgan asked. “Marty Harris.”

“Uh, he’s a two-time convicted fetish burglar, registered child sex offender-”

“And we have his head,” Gideon interrupted, joining them. “CSU just positively identified the one delivered to my cabin.”

“‘Don’t waste time on the first victims. They were unrepentant bad men. They only got what they deserved,’” Hotch recited from a notepad in his hand.

“What is that?” Morgan asked.

“I got a phone call last night before you called from Jamaica,” he informed the group, waving the notepad with the conversation he’d written on it.

“Any mention of a ‘her’?” Elle questioned.

“‘You must help him save her,’” he responded.

“Now there’s a ‘him’, too?” Lydia rubbed her forehead as if it would clear her mind from this nauseating puzzle in front of her.

“I think he means Reid,” Gideon explained.

“Reid?” JJ asked.

“We need to regroup,” Hotch determined and the entire group turned and entered the bullpen.

~ ~ ~

Lydia lay dramatically with her head over the back of the chair she was seated in. They’d all migrated back to the conference room and she hated the idea of going back to staring blankly at the evidence boards. So her eyes traced the tiles of the ceiling as she listened to the rest of the group speak.

“So, clearly we have a psychopath who’s intent on drawing us into his game,” Hotch was saying.

“Playing with us,” Gideon added.

“Then let's return the favor,” Elle fired.

“He kept telling us repeatedly to save ‘her’. What ‘her’?” Morgan asked.

“The items he sent must be some kind of clues.”

Hotch agreed with Gideon and told JJ to start listing them off on the whiteboard.

“I got a Nellie Fox baseball card from 1963,” Gideon began, “and I got a head in a box.”

“I got a rare butterfly in a shadow box,” JJ added, before beginning the list.

“And repeated messages to save ‘her’,” Hotch offered.

Elle was pacing, obviously furious. “I got the decapitated body and a nice visit to the Jamaican police headquarters.”

“Reid called from Nevada,” Gideon explained for him. “He’s on his way back here with a skeleton key and a note he got, too… Lydia?”

She jumped up in her seat suddenly. “Sorry. I got a medication bottle with the name Lady Blanchefleur on it.”

“Lady Blanchefleur?” Elle asked.

She shrugged. “It’s French. It means ‘white flower’. I looked it up and there are a few notable uses of it throughout history, but nothing stood out to me.”

“Wait,” Hotch mumbled. He began flipping rapidly through his notepad again to find his scribbles. “You said Reid got a key?”

Gideon nodded.

“The guy who called me said something along the lines of…” he scanned the page he was on. “‘Sir Percival holds the key’.”

“Percival!” Lydia cried. “Yes! That was one of the… the Knights! At the Round Table!”

She grabbed Hotch’s notes before he could protest and looked over the line again.

“Sir Percival was known as Arthur’s most innocent and loyal knights. He went on the quest for the Grail and he was in love with… Lady Blanchefleur.”

She froze up at the implications of that. Did the unsub know that she was crushing on the doctor? But how? That was on no file and she definitely hadn’t told anyone.

“Ok, but wait a minute,” Morgan continued, no one seeming to notice her embarrassment. “They don’t contact us this way. I mean, they might taunt us, dare us to catch ‘em. But they don’t drag us into their fantasies.”

“Why not?” JJ asked, turning away from the board she was writing on.

“Because they’re sexual fantasies,” he argued. “I mean, taunting us is a show of power, but making us the object is… I don’t know what the hell that is.”

“Something else about the baseball card,” Gideon murmured. “Nellie Fox was one of the stars of the 1959 White Sox. I went to almost every game with my father that year. Fox was my hero. So, is it a coincidence that he sends this to me? Or does he know how I feel about him?”

JJ’s eyes went wide. “I collected butterflies when I was a little girl. That’s how I knew what butterfly was in the box.”

“So then he knows us,” Morgan determined.

“I got an anonymous message,” Hotch argued.

“I got a police raid,” Elle continued.

“But he knew exactly where we were,” Morgan shot back. “Hotel in Jamaica. Gideon at the cabin. Reid in Vegas. You and Lydia at your homes.”

“He got that from the Bureau computers.” Garcia appeared in the doorway, a manilla folder in hand. “Your locations are always in there so they can find you if they need you. I checked the log. The hacker was definitely in the personal folders. There were room numbers to the hotels in Jamaica, the address of Gideon’s cabin… There’s a lot of information in those databases,” she admitted.

“Have you figured out how he was able to get into the Bureau’s computers?” Hotch asked and she swallowed, harshly.

“I’m- I’m still working on that,” she said, but she looked like she was nodding.

“Garcia, if you know something-”

“No, it- um…” Lydia felt so bad for her. She looked terrified. “It’s just- I… I was playing a game yesterday. An online game.”

Gideon blinked. “A game?”

“Not on the Bureau computer, sir,” she defended, quickly. “On my own personal laptop.”

“Garcia, no, no, no, no.” Morgan put his head into his hands and Garcia’s eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t understand,” Hotch said, softly, seeing how fragile the tech genius was.

“Wireless internet,” was all Morgan said.

“By wirelessly hooking into the net here to get online, the hacker could have gotten into my computer first, and I have far less protection on my own laptop.”

Hotch crossed his arms. “And he could have gotten into the entire Bureau computer system this way?”

She nodded, her voice barely a whisper at this point. “Yeah, it’s possible.”

Gideon got up slowly, turning away from the group. “Playing a game?” he asked. “How could you be that stupid?”

“Gideon!” Lydia shouted.

“Information, files,” he continued, ignoring her. “You have a responsibility.”

“I know, sir,” Garcia apologized, the tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry.”

Everyone stayed silent at the spectacle, wondering who would speak first. Lydia watched everyone’s eyes drop to the floor as Penelope looked for some support and it infuriated her. She threw down Hotch’s notepad and walked over to comfort the girl, but she pushed her away.

“But I found him,” she told them through her tears.

“You what?” Elle started to move towards her.

“I know who he is,” she said. “The hacker. His name is Giles. Frank Giles. He lives in Arlington, Virginia, four miles from here. I have his address.”

She handed the folder to Hotch before swiftly leaving the room.

“Did she say Giles?” Morgan repeated.

~ ~ ~

Hotch: Rm 1210. Now.

Lydia hadn’t even read the text before she was throwing on her vest and leaving the SUV. Hotch had required her to start wearing the bulletproof attire after the fiasco in McAllister when Cory Bridges had a gun on her. It didn’t exactly make her feel safer, knowing that the vest wouldn’t have stopped a bullet to the face, but getting shot on the job didn’t help him or Gideon prove she was an asset to Strauss, so she agreed to it.

She silently passed all the exiting SWAT guys as she made her way upstairs and to Frank Giles’s apartment. She thought for sure that she’d watch them walk him away in handcuffs, but by the time she got to the room, she hadn’t seen him. Maybe he wasn’t home?

Oh, how wrong she was. She stepped into the apartment building and found the team standing around his body. He lay on a bare bed, a long sword straight through his chest. And, of course, in blood behind him:

HERE THY QUEST DOTH TRULY BEGIN

“God damnit,” she grumbled, already pulling her gloves out of her pocket.

“He’s definitely playing with us,” Hotch said.

“His identification checks out,” Elle admitted, handing Hotch the ID she’d found by the body. “That’s Frank Giles.”

“There’s a big old bag of money sitting right here on the dresser,” Morgan continued.

“Oh boy,” Lydia joked. “Where to start?”

“So, Giles took Harris to Jamaica to kill him and the unsub killed Giles,” Hotch figured.

Morgan was already pulling stacks of cash out of the bag. “Yeah, but he paid him first.”

“Left the cash?” Elle inquired.

He shrugged. “He’s apparently well-funded.”

Lydia knelt down next to the body to look at the blade in his chest.

“He said these were ‘unrepentant bad men’,” Hotch reminded them. “Are we looking for some kind of vigilante?”

“No,” Gideon murmured. “The bodies are nothing but a way to get us interested. They’re game pieces. The killings are secondary.”

“Well, this guy likes to write things in blood on walls,” Elle stated and Morgan nodded.

“All kinds of cult and demonic significance to that.”

“Thy? Doth? Quest?” She threw the words around before reading it in its entirety. “‘Thy quest doth truly begin’ Why start phrasing things like this now?”

“All the other messages were in modern English,” Hotch agreed.

“Maybe this is the first one the unsub actually wrote,” Morgan suggested.

Elle scoffed. “So we’re looking for Shakespeare?”

“Hey, guys?” Lydia interrupted. “There’s something etched on the blade.” She leaned in close, trying to read the scratches over the already intricate designs on the sword. “‘To learn of what should next be done, leave the blade til the hour be none’.”

“Hour be none?” Morgan asked and Hotch leaned down to see for himself.

“Leave the blade,” he mumbled. “Elle, move for a second.” She stepped away from the group, backing up towards the bloody wall. “Move to your left… The bed’s in the middle of the room.”

“Which isn’t by chance,” Morgan agreed.

“And maybe the light from here-” He pointed to a window behind him, where Elle formerly was. “-casts a shadow and points to something.”

“Come on,” Elle protested. “Are we in the middle of an Indiana Jones movie?”

“The hour be none?” Hotch repeated, ignoring her comment.

“Midnight is 00:00 hours in 24-hour time. Would that be none?” Morgan asked.

“Midnight wouldn’t cast a shadow,” the older man argued.

“Hour be none…” Morgan sounded it out like it might suddenly come to him.

“3 PM.”

Spencer had slid into the room, his book bag still around his shoulder. He looked a little tired, but Lydia attributed it to jet lag and possible stress over the new case.

“Hey, guys. Garcia told me where to find you.”

“3 PM?” Gideon asked.

“It’s medieval,” Spencer explained. “The days used to be broken into hourly intervals. The canonical intervals of the breviary. Prime: 6 AM. Terce: 9 AM. Sext: 12 noon. None: 3 PM. And vespers: 6 PM.”

“Reid, do not ever go away again,” Elle insisted.

He smiled, but Gideon refused to let them fall off track. “Medieval. That’s why the language changed.”

“Everything this guy does is a clue,” Hotch agreed.

“We can narrow it down some more,” Lydia offered. “He was talking about King Arthur’s Round Table earlier.”

“The Round Table?” Reid inquired.

“Okay, but guys, it’s 4:35,” Morgan interrupted. “What do we do? Leave the blade in until 3 PM tomorrow?”

It took Reid a minute to realize we’d switched topics. “Oh, not if we can block that window out.” He turned to one of the crime scene investigators in the seperate room. “Do you have any spotlights in your car?”

“Sure,” she replied and the team got to work on covering the window.

~ ~ ~

Lydia sat down in a corner of the room, watching as everyone set up for their experiment. Spencer knelt in front of the now dark window and rest stood off to the sides so they could see the uninterrupted shadow on the wall.

“So, the sun is right here at 5 PM,” he started, turning on the flashlight to face the sword. “Morgan, follow the shadow as I move the light higher.”

He was quick to oblige, moving a lamp and the table on which it sat out of the way as the shadow flattened out. “Okay. And do what?”

Hotch leaned forward. “Tap,” he instructed.

Morgan used the pads of his fingers to prod at the wall as the shadow moved under Spencer’s direction. After a moment, the hilt of the sword lined up with a hollow spot in the wall.

“Definitely an Indiana Jones movie,” Elle repeated her reference from earlier.

“Feels like the wallpaper’s been replaced.”

“Tear it open,” Hotch told him.

Morgan pulled out a pocket knife, which slid easily into the thin plaster and allowed him to pull a large section of the wall out.

“It’s a box.”

“Take it out.”

“Wait, are we sure it’s safe?” Reid interrupted.

“What, you think it’s a bomb?” Hotch fired back. “You think he’d be playing this game just to blow us up?”

“He’d have already done that as long as we’ve been standing here,” Morgan agreed and reached into the hole.

It was a strange, dark box, with a gold lock encrusting the front. Morgan tried for a second, but it wasn’t opening.

“It’s locked. You want me to break it?”

“No,” Hotch sighed. “We should process it first.”

Everyone was startled when Gideon finally spoke up. “‘Sir Percival holds the key’,” he muttered.

The entire group turned their heads to Reid. “Sir Percival?” he asked, bewildered.

“I’ll explain later,” Lydia told him and approached. “Do you have the key?”

He fumbled around his pants and shirt pocket until he found the skeleton key and handed it to her. Lydia joined the group around the box and opened it up carefully. The second the top cracked open, a slow, sweet tune filled the room.

Music box.

A thin lined piece of paper sat on the bottom of the box, which Reid took from her hand and read aloud. “‘Never would it be night, but always clear day to any man’s sight.’”

“Well, that was worth it,” Elle replied, sarcastically.

“The lid,” Gideon said from behind her. “Little tab right under the lock.”

Morgan saw what he was talking about and pulled the top down to reveal another compartment in the top of the box. And inside that was a lock of blonde hair, tied together with a pink ribbon, and a DVD that read: THY QUEST.

Elle took the hair to a crime scene investigator to put in an evidence bag and Morgan looked over the DVD.

Lydia stood up fully and started to leave, ripping her gloves off as she went. “Let’s go see what this stupid quest is about.”

~ ~ ~

“Sir Percival?” Spencer repeated as the two sat next to each other in the conference room.

“Right.” She rubbed her palm over her forehead. “Hotch got a call. The speaker said, ‘Sir Percival holds the key’. Then we found out you had received a skeleton key. And the medicine bottle I got? It’s prescribed to a ‘Lady Blanchefleur’. She’s the love of Sir Percival in some of the stories of the Round Table.”

His eyes widened. “So, we’re…”

“This unsub thinks we are,” Lydia replied quickly. She was too exhausted to have this awkward conversation right now. “He’s definitely got a medieval fantasy to play out.”

They put the DVD in and a video popped up. The setting was dark, with a large shadow cast over the top half of the room. There was a fireplace against the back wall, but no fire. The camera was set up on a desk, with many strange objects littered around, all gold in color. And finally, a grand leather chair faced the camera.

It took a moment for the man to walk in, most likely their unsub. He wore all black and hobbled onto screen slowly, taking a painful moment to sit in the chair. With the terrible lighting in the room, his face was obscured from their view.

“He moves funny,” Hotch noted.

“Looks like he’s injured or something,” Morgan agreed.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse and raspy. Lydia wondered if he was a smoker or had lost it somehow, but if the latter were the case, it would have been accompanied by coughs or moments where the sound disappeared completely. He didn’t have that, which would suggest he’d been living like that a long time.

“I assure you… you’ll all understand in the end why it must be this way. You might even thank me.”

“Don’t hold your breath, scumbag,” Elle snapped.

“You know now you’re on a quest. A young girl’s life depends on the successful completion of it.” The video cut to one of a blonde girl in all white, sitting on a bed. When she noticed the camera, she started throwing objects across the room at the person filming. “As you can see, she’s quite beautiful… and in distress.” There was another shot of her at the door of the room, There was a barred window in the door, which she pulled at and threw herself against.

Then, it cut back to their unsub. “Now, please listen closely for there is one rule. And this rule must be followed. The one rule is… only the members of your team may participate in the quest.” As he listed off each team member, pictures of them on the job appeared. “Jason Gideon, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, Elle Greenaway, Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, and Lydia Ambers.” Lydia was terrified to see her face appear with the others. She could see someone easily getting these pictures from newspapers and press conferences. Some of them were perhaps more candid, but even so, the BAU was constantly working popular cases and people could easily join a crowd and catch pictures of them.

But Lydia? She recognized where she was standing. It was outside the hospital of the poisoning case she worked a few months back. No one was there. It was a hospital parking lot, the only way she could have missed someone taking photos of her was if they were sitting in their car waiting for her to come out.

God, that’s horrifying.

“A quest must be completed in the proper way or it isn’t a quest, is it? That’s it. One rule. Simple. Now, you will be receiving an item soon that will hold the final clue you’ll need to finish the quest. You will find you’ll also need a book which has inspired many an adventure like mine. Believe me when I tell you, I truly hope to see you all soon. It will mean a successful end to this adventure… for all of us.”

The screen went black.

“This guy’s got pictures of us?” Elle demanded, suddenly.

“What do we do now?” Spencer asked.

“Well, the lock of hair’s being analyzed for DNA. There might be something on file,” Hotch explained, avoiding the uncomfortable topic of the video they’d just watched.

“I’ll get the video team to enhance the shots of the girl,” JJ offered, grabbing the DVD from the player.

“Let’s get the clues up on the board,” Hotch ordered. “Maybe we can make some sense of something.”

“Wait. We’re going to play this guy's game?” Elle cried.

“Do we have a choice?” Spencer shot back.

The sound of the door opening caught everyone’s attention and Lydia turned around in time to watch Gideon storm out. She wasn’t sure what was up with him, but at the moment, she just couldn’t deal with it. Lucky for her, Hotch volunteered, standing up to leave.

“Be right back. You guys keep working.”

As soon as both her superiors were gone, Lydia lay her head down on the table and listened distantly to what the others had to say.

She really wasn’t in the mood for this puzzle solving today.

~ ~ ~

Not ten minutes later, Hotch was back… with his wife, son, and a piece of poster paper with a bunch of random numbers on it. Supposedly someone had appeared at their door and told Haley to give the paper to Hotch immediately.

“Dear lord, I’m going to throw myself out of a window,” Lydia grumbled, watching Spencer put the new delivery onto a corkboard.

“Ambers,” Hotch warned, before leaving with his wife.

“Sorry, I’m going to let someone push me out of a window,” she joked once they were out of earshot. “What are we looking at?”

“My eyes are so heavy I can barely see it,” Elle replied.

“I think it’s a coded message of some sort.” Reid rubbed his chin, contemplating.

“The unsub said we’d need a book, didn’t he?” Lydia asked. “It could be book code.”

He nodded excitedly. “Each one of these sets of numbers represents a particular word. For instance, page 118, line 30, word 3. We need to figure out what the words are and fill in the blanks.”

Morgan somehow looked even more fed up than Lydia felt. He ran his hands over his head and interlocked the fingers at the back of the neck, pulling on it like he planned to tear his own head off.

“Yeah, but from what book?” Elle asked Spencer and he shrugged.

“I don’t know. The trouble is it has to be the exact same edition of the exact same book that he used.”

JJ walked in, a folder in her hands. “Just got a DNA hit on the lock of hair. Rebecca Bryant. She’s been missing out of Boston for two years.” As she explained, they passed around the photo they had of her on file.

Lydia’s heart had skipped a beat when JJ said Rebecca, panicking for a moment about the safety of her own sister. Could the unsub possibly know where her sister and Sonia lived?

“Two years?” Elle was appalled.

“Guys, how are we supposed to figure out which book this code was copied out of?” Morgan demanded.

“I have no idea,” Reid admitted for the second time.

JJ took back the picture to stick to the whiteboard and started to write around it.

“He said we have everything needed to complete the quest,” Reid murmured and the whole team stared at the boards, looking for any clues, indications, hints… anything that stood out really.

“The answer’s gotta be up there somewhere,” Elle reasoned.

“JJ,” Gideon waltzed in out of nowhere, “get some reporters here as soon as possible.”

“For what?”

“Just say we need help on a new case.”

They all looked around blankly after he left.

“Press conference?” Morgan asked.

JJ shrugged before following suit and leaving them to stare at the boards for any bright ideas.

~ ~ ~

Over the next hour, they pulled down all of the evidence bags and Lydia began to do as much research on anything out of place that she could.

Elle had fallen asleep on one of the couches and they all opted to leave her there unless they came up with something.

Reid lifted up a nearby bag. “A pale clouded yellow butterfly indigenous to Great Britain?” he asked.

Lydia was already typing away at her laptop for any significance to that.

“How’s it going?” Hotch had finally returned from the press conference and Lydia felt bad for being so negative to him earlier. The obvious stress that came upon him when his wife and kid were involved was completely reasonable and she was glad he was able to get them into a hotel. She could only imagine the panic she’d be feeling if her sister lived with her. She wouldn’t let the girl leave her sight after getting that package.

“The answer to what book we need has to be in here,” Spencer pondered.

Morgan dropped whatever he’d been toying with at the time. “Yeah, but we sure as hell can’t see it.”

“Yet,” Spencer specified.

Hotch stepped away from them to shake Elle awake.

“I’m sending you home,” he insisted, denying her protests.

“Elle, seriously, we’re not any closer than we were,” Morgan told her. “Get out of here. Go home.”

“But-”

“That’s an order,” Hotch interrupted. “Let’s go.”

Lydia watched silently as Hotch escorted her out, then read off what she’d learned about the butterfly to the two guys left. “Its binomial name is the colias hyale. If I had to guess, this one is a female. It’s a large species of butterfly and lives in flowery places.”

“It’s a butterfly, Lydia,” Morgan said impatiently. “No shit.”

“Well, it’s not like there’s very much to learn about butterflies,” she shot back. “They’re pretty insects and that’s all. What do you want from me?” She huffed and scrolled some more. “Okay… this says that yellow butterflies represent new life and if you cross paths with one, it supposedly gives you happiness?” She searched some more, clicking on various links and scanning the pages. “Oh shit, nevermind. There’s a whole lot of symbolism of butterflies spiritually. They represent angels and rebirth and stuff. Hold on.”

She’d fallen into a rabbit hole of sorts. The religious relation to the butterfly was more popular than she thought, but there wasn’t much credibility to her sources. She tried to find references to this specific butterfly in books or other forms of media but came up empty.

“I can’t find any significance to it in a book. Should we try something else?”

“Ambers.” Hotch called her over from the door he’d just taken Elle out of. “I need a word.”

She set the computer back down and followed him out curiously. “What’s up, Hotch?”

“I want to respect your past and privacy, so I haven’t brought the pill bottle up yet, but if it has any significance to the case, I need you to tell me now.”

She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. The fact that it’s for bupropion is personal. I know that. But the rest seems like random information.”

“Nothing is random for this unsub,” he argued and walked into the conference room. “Reid, hand me the prescription bottle.”

The boy’s head shot up, but he wasn’t looking at his boss. His eyes were glued to Lydia. “Oh… um…” He dropped his gaze awkwardly and reached for the bag in front of him. “Here you are.”

“Okay. Lady Blanchefleur. Bupropion. RX: 315121253201518. Doctor Sir Kneighf,” he recited. “What does that mean?”

“Well, Lady Blanchefleur we’re assuming is in relation to the medieval character,” she reasoned. “Let’s see about Sir Kneighf.” She put it into a google search but came up empty. “Hm… no.”

“Bupropion is an antidepressant, isn’t it?” Spencer offered.

Hotch stepped in quickly. “We don’t believe that bit is relevant.”

“Why not?” Morgan asked.

Hotch gave her a look that said, this is on you now.

“Gideon gets a baseball card of his baseball hero,” Lydia began. “JJ gets a butterfly that she was interested in when she was younger. I get the antidepressant my mom was taking when I was a kid.”

She tried not to speak sharply, but there was still a clear edge in her voice. She was frustrated that Hotch had read the medication out loud after she’d just told him that was the only personal part. But, he had to cover all his bases. This was important, she reminded herself. A girl’s life was at stake.

“Maybe it does have significance to the case,” she defended. “But so far, Nellie Fox and the butterfly were just ways to get the recipient interested. And this guy must know me well, because bupropion? Let’s just say, it caught my eye.”

Reid’s eyes were trained on the desk. He didn’t want to look up at her. He was beginning to feel guilty about his desire to learn about her past, seeing how closed off she became when forced to talk about it. It was clearly not full of a lot of happy memories for her.

Morgan next to him was simply confused. He knew not to push her, but he couldn’t quite piece together why anyone would care about their mother’s old medicine.

And Hotch was still focused on the label in front of him.

“I can’t keep staring at these,” she stressed to the group. “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“Lydia-” Hotch started as she stood up and grabbed her jacket.

“I’m fine, Hotch,” she insisted. “I just… my brain is fried. I’m gonna take a minute and be back with fresh eyes.”

The rest of the room settled in guilt, despite the fact that, in the end, they would’ve had to talk about the prescription bottle with her. They needed to know, even if she hated it. Morgan had no idea it was a sore subject, Spencer, only an inkling, and Hotch was fully aware of what it represented in her mind.

But not a one of them could protect her from her past. And once Lydia had released some of her anger, she’d come to realize that, too.

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teddyshoney · 4 years

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So, in celebration of posting my 50th fic on AO3 this morning, I decided to make a masterpost of all my fics so far. I’m quite excited to get all of them in one place on Tumblr! I have written some stories that I recognize might squick some people out, so I will put those beneath the cut. Clicking on the title of the work or series will take you to the story or series on AO3. Each of my stories is posted on FF.net, too. Clicking on FF.net at the end of each description will take you to the story or the first story in the series for each series listed. (FF.net is rather infuriating in that there is no good way to mark stories in a series. If you have questions about series order on FF.net, feel free to message me, and I’ll help you out.) So, without further ado, here we go!

One-Shots:

It Was All Your Fault (9988 words) -- Finn and Puck are getting married! Mike and Kurt, their two best men, have put together a weekend excursion to celebrate the upcoming wedding, but they may not be the only ones planning something. (This really ended up being a Klaine story despite what the summary makes it sound like.) FF.net

Respect and Obey (8443 words) -- Blaine has always had a little trouble with his anxiety, and the pandemic is causing an attack. His Dom tries to help, but sometimes it's hard to shut off the voices in your head. (This is a D/s story with Dom!Kurt and sub!Blaine.) FF.net

Take a Chance on Me by Abba (1760 words) -- Blaine takes Kurt on a surprise outing that doesn't go as planned. (Written for Klaine Valentine’s Day Challenge 2019 but is a standalone work.) FF.net

I Could Fall in Love by Selena (1530 words) -- Blaine has had feelings for Kurt since the day that they met, but he doesn't think Kurt is in love with him. A few comments from Wes go to his head, and Blaine gets a surprise he didn't count on. *This story takes place while Kurt and Blaine are attending Dalton Academy and does not completely comply with cannon events. (Written for Klaine Valentine’s Day Challenge 2019 but is a standalone work.) FF.net

Whenever You’re Away From Me by Olivia Newton John (2921 words) -- Kurt's in New York, and Blaine is still in Lima. When Sam invites him to drive to New York with he and his dad, Blaine accepts, planning a surprise for Kurt. (Written for Klaine Valentine’s Day Challenge 2019 but is a standalone work.) FF.net

This Is the Time by Billy Joel (1009 words) -- Kurt and Blaine are supposed to be writing their wedding vows separately. But they're really struggling, and they both need just a little bit of comfort. (Written for Klaine Valentine’s Day Challenge 2019 but is a standalone work. I did not upload this work to FF.net. If I choose to in the future, I’ll add the link here.)

Christmas Cookies (2000 words) -- Kurt's headed back to work from the bakery when he bumps into a very upset Blaine. He decides his time is better spent taking care of his sad husband than at work, so they go home to work out Blaine's problem. (Written for Glee Potluck Big Bang Advent 2019 but is a standalone work.) FF.net

Series:

In Every Lifetime (314,220 words) -- This is a series that I’m writing with @jayhawk-writes. There are currently eight stories in this series, and we have plans for several more. We’ve been taking turns writing stories for the ‘verse. The series summary is: A series of connected AUs inspired by this line from Blaine's proposal: "It's always felt like I was remembering you from something. As if, in every lifetime you and I have ever lived, we've chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again. Over and over for all of eternity." 1. The Unknown (864 words by me) -- Kurt and Blaine have a choice to make... FF.net 2. Domus Civita (62,612 words by jayhawk-writes) -- While on vacation to a city he's never been to, Kurt Hummel finds himself in a place that he recognized from his dreams. The person he always sees in those dreams is there, too, and they spot him and ask, “Is it really you?” FF.net 3. It Only Took an Hour (19,072 words by me) -- Kurt's been set up on a blind date at a bar that he hates. And the blind date is a no-show. There is this really cute boy that walks in, though, and Kurt can't stop watching him dance and flirt. The whole story takes place over the course of an hour with the exception of the prologue. FF.net 4. The Writing on My Skin (35,530 words by jayhawk-writes) -- Soulmates, when the younger of the two turns 16, both get a unique mark somewhere on their skin that will have or has had some meaning to them. They can write to each other back and forth by writing on their skin. Kurt Hummel has been waiting for his soulmate to finally turn 16 so that he would have someone to talk to about all of the things he can't tell his dad or other friends. Nobody really knows how bad the bullying has gotten at McKinley. He hopes that his soulmate can help him get through this tough time, but he has no way of knowing that Fate, and Noah Puckerman, will lead him right to his soulmate. FF.net 5. Nothing Can Keep Us Apart (44,467 words by me) -- Blaine is a Prince...well, he used to be. Now, he's just a lowly Peasant living in the city of Hucal, a kingdom under the rule of the man who ordered his father to be killed. Unexpectedly, Blaine falls in love with a boy, a boy who should be far, far out of his reach. And just as he thinks that things are looking up for him, Hucal goes to war, and Blaine must fight. Will he make it home? Will he get to marry his soulmate? Will they have their happily ever after? FF.net 6. The Silver-Scaled Mark (52,737 words by jayhawk-writes) -- Blaine is a half-elf living in a town of full-blooded elves. He doesn’t fit in and is bullied almost daily for his heritage. One day Blaine finds solace in the library and later finds a book that talks about the magic in his world. He is drawn to it and wants to learn all he can. After Blaine has consumed all of the books in his town, he goes off to college to become a wizard so that he can help protect those that are not able to adequately defend themselves. Once he has graduated, he finds that he and several companions are part of a prophecy that will help unite the races in his world. FF.net 7. When Worlds Collide (currently 70,521 words by me) -- Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson are soulmates and fairies; they have a wonderful little family, and Kurt is a successful author. When his daughters beg him to read his new book to them for a bedtime story, Kurt and Blaine relieve their pasts, and we learn exactly how they became soulmates and lovers in a most unconventional and unlikely way. (There are two or three chapters left to post of this story.) FF.net 8. Guarding the Shadows (currently 28,417 words by jayhawk-writes) -- Too distracted by their love for each other to make their own choices, Kurt and Blaine are thrust into an adventure they know almost nothing about. Born in mid-1600 London, they must overcome many obstacles including their financial barriers and their desire to find true love. However, there's a hidden piece of the puzzle they know nothing about: vampires. (This story is currently updating weekly on Saturdays.) FF.net

The Adventures of Josh, Jasper, and Liza (25,779 words in 3 works) -- In the first story of this series, Kurt and Blaine adopt three kids: Josh, Jasper, and Liza. This story is based on the movie Instant Family. The following two stories in that series recount a few days in their lives following the adoption. I plan to write more stories for this series. FF.net

Engaged for Graduation (8189 words in 2 works) -- This is a canon divergent series in which Kurt proposes to Blaine on the night of his high school graduation at the end of season 3. I have more stories planned for this series. FF.net

The Ander-Hummel Family (14,023 words in 6 works) -- This series is a continuation of canon. Rachel is Kurt and Blaine’s surrogate; we follow them through the pregnancy and some adventures after the baby is born. I am writing more stories for this series as well as finishing the last story posted in this series. FF.net

Klaine Is My Favorite Hallmark Movie (3320 words in 2 works) -- I didn’t intend for this to be a series but as I was trying to work on some stories for the Glee Potluck Big Bang Advent prompts, this series was born. In the first story, Kurt and Blaine talk about what they think their Hallmark movie would be like. Then, in the next story, they do a bit of roleplay for their Hallmark movie. I don’t know if there will be more stories in this series or not. FF.net

Blaine Has Fibromyalgia (4757 words in 2 works) -- I didn’t intend for this to be a series either. I wrote the first story about how Blaine got fibro in order to deal with my feelings surrounding the possibility that I might have fibro as well. The second story, which I just posted this morning, was born out of needing to deal with another situation related to fibro. I don’t know if there will be more stories in this series or not. FF.net

Below the cut is a list of my series that have some themes others might be squicked out by.

Puckurt Ageplay (25,736 words in 4 works) -- In this series, Puck starts dating Kurt and their relationship morphs into an ageplay relationship with Kurt as the little following Burt’s election to Congress. I have plans to add more works to this series. FF.net

Puckurt Needs Blaine (14,943 words in 1 work) -- This is a spinoff series in which Blaine joins the Puckurt relationship as a little. I have more works planned in this series. FF.net

Klainofsky (36,331 words in 4 works) -- In this series, Blaine calls Dave up one night out of the blue and tells him that he and Kurt are having problems in their relationship. This leads into an ageplay relationship with Dave as the Daddy and Kurt and Blaine as the littles. I have more stories planned for this series. FF.net

Blaine and Kurt (9376 words in 4 works) -- This is an ageplay series in which Blaine is the Daddy and Kurt is the little. I have plans for more stories in this series. FF.net

Kurt and Blaine (44,091 words in 6 works) -- This is an ageplay series in which Kurt is the Daddy and Blaine is the little. The first few stories are an introduction to their dynamic, but the third story, A Visit to Grandma and Grandpa’s, is where the series really starts to head in a specific direction, and we see the addition of Finn and Sam in a Daddy/little relationship as well. I plan to finish the last posted story and still have more stories planned for the series. FF.net

You and Me Plus Puckerman Spells Family (42,120 words in 5 works) -- This ageplay series follows Puck as the little and Kurt and Blaine as Papa and Daddy. Their dynamic begins when Puck shows up drunk at Burt and Carole’s. He’s recently broken up with Quinn again and due to his drinking has lost all his pool cleaning jobs. Having promised Finn before his passing that they would look out for Puck, Kurt and Blaine fly in from New York to bring Noah home with them to start his new life. I have plans for more stories in this series. FF.net

#klaine fanfic #in every lifetime series #teddyshoney #fanfic author #best friend writers #friends that write together stay together

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ks-caster · 4 years

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It’s Like Watching Fanfiction – An (Un)Necessarily Long Critique of The 100 Seasons 6 and 7

Ah, the familiar cry of the content-starved fan, particularly as our favorite shows descend into the depths of mischaracterization, unexpected ships, hiatus, abrupt cancellation and shock-value death endings. I’ve said it myself about so many of my shows, while wanting to spend some time watching the characters but not wanting to re-hash episodes I’ve nearly memorized: “I wish I could just watch fanfiction!”

But the further into seasons 6 and 7 I’ve gotten, the more I’ve come to realize that my dream of having new and exciting possibilities for the characters come miraculously to a screen near me wouldn’t be the pleasant experience I’d imagined.

Now, depending on the type of ending you like – hopeful but with a lot of lose ends left to your imagination, or bittersweet but more definite, you could consider either seasons 1-4 or 1-5 their own complete stories.

Both seasons 4 and 5 ended in a way that suggested an unknown but likely positive future. They could have been considered conclusions for the main characters’ developmental arcs, and while season 5 went a little off the rails in terms of offscreen character development and sudden new characters, they both stayed fairly close to the original concept: survivors living in the ruins of the apocalypse. All four (or five) seasons emphasized the importance of the found family dynamic (although those dynamics shifted radically in season 5 due to the time-skip, they remained an important source of character motivation).

But seasons 6 and 7? Those feel like I’m watching fanfiction. And I don’t love it.

A story told on a whole new planet with a new environment, culture and cast of original characters was always going to feel like an AU – it sort of is, no matter how you swing it. If that was all that had changed, then I think the story would still feel cohesive.

If it weren’t for the timey whimey bullshit.

Now, fun fact: when reading fanfiction, I love time travel stories. I haven’t posted any myself but I’ve sought out and read them voraciously, for every fandom I’m in. I love the idea of characters meeting themselves or their friends at radically different ages, plot points and levels of experience and the way that changes things for both groups. (Yes, I’m also a Whovian if that wasn’t blatantly obvious). I also love a good amnesia arc. And I DID think that the Josephine/Clarke body possession thing was pretty cool.

So why did season 6 and most* of season 7 fall as flat for me as they did?

The simple fact is that some things – and characters’ emotional dynamics are one of those things – are so much easier to get across in writing than on screen. A good actor can make us feel the character’s emotions, but unless the film goes full-on Clarke’s mind space, we can’t really know what they’re thinking in individual moments. For the most part film as a genre has ways around this, but if it’s mishandled, then the emotional beats come off all wrong. (See for reference Tony Stark’s funeral where half the actors didn’t know what was going on due to Disney’s spoiler fears.)

If you’re going to include time skips in which things have happened and character dynamics have changed, you cannot handle it wrong.

Which brings us back to seasons 6 and (so far) 7 of The 100. So far to date we’ve had all of this occur either offscreen or asynchronously enough to be confusing to an audience watching the episodes in real time:

Jordan’s entire life prior to meeting Napkru in the waking world

Octavia’s character development while living on Skyring with the Diyozas

Hope’s first 22 years of life, on Skyring and (I presume) Bardo

Echo, Hope and Gabriel living on Skyring for 5 years with Orlando

Going back a little further, we also have the season 5 timeskip, which brought us Spacekru as found family, Clarke adopting tiny!heda, and Octavia building Wonkru. Now season 5 took care to show us Wonkru flashbacks and dedicate time to show Spacekru and the Griffin family loving on each other, making inside jokes etc. But it was still incredibly jarring for the audience in a lot of ways, because at the end of the day, we’ve spent four years with the character dynamics and development doing one thing, and no amount of telling us that they’ve had 6 years to do another thing while our time with them only lasted about one year in comparison is ever going to undo the importance of “show don’t tell.”

Let’s take Bellarkers’ beef with Becho for example. (Disclaimer: Since I don’t really have a strong opinion either way on the popular Bellamy ships, I hope that I’m representing what I’ve read from other people accurately.)

I understand cognitively that Bellamy and Clarke knew each other for one year (during which they were in a lot of intense situations that really didn’t leave them the emotional space to figure out how they felt about each other outside of “I don’t want to lose this person”) and Bellamy and Echo knew each other for seven years (six of which they had plenty of low-stress time to get to know each other, grow and mature side-by-side, etc.).

But that doesn’t compute on an emotional level when I as a watcher went straight from watching Bellamy and Raven tearfully eulogizing Clarke on the ring, to him turning up with a coffee mug and a plucky attitude to rescue her the second he finds out she’s alive and in trouble. I don’t think that could compute emotionally for me without having spent the last few years watching the dynamics shift and Becho happen. And that was with the writers giving me as a watcher an episode at the end of season 4 where Bellamy stops Echo from killing herself and connects with her on an emotional level, and then one at the beginning of season 5 where we got to see the spacekru dynamics, including them being together.

So we’re watching this show, many of us for the found family character relationships (god knows it’s not for all the positive happy feeling I get from watching *checks notes* ah, yes, characters having to constantly choose who to kill off in a string of increasingly huge and horrible genocides. *Side-eyes my life choices for getting into this fandom in the first place.*) Okay, we’re watching this show for the characters, and between seasons 4 and 5, many of those dynamics radically shift offscreen. Becho is the easiest and probably most talked-about example (well, and the Blake siblings, but the radical change shown in Octavia’s character between 4 and 5 makes that at least a little easier to choke down) but there are plenty of others, take your pick.

Although it makes perfect sense for a lot to change between separated groups of people in a half dozen years, it makes a lot less sense to an audience watching week to week, particularly when the show’s limited amount of screen time was too focused on plot to really delve into those changes and let us see and understand them. That was what made me think that the show was headed into jump the shark territory in season 5, but I really wanted to know what happened to my faves (Octavia, Raven and Memori, to be specific) so I kept watching.

Our fandom’s excellent writers spent the hiatus crafting mid-time-skip vignettes and missing character moments, and I spent the hiatus reading them. And I remember thinking that it would have been great if even a quarter of this content could have been put into the show to ease the audience into the dynamic shifts – but of course they’d never have the screen time to do all of that.

Especially, coming back to the main point, since written fiction allows the audience to see inside the characters’ heads, while television (usually) does not. It’s much easier to write a scene in which, say, two characters who have known each other for 7 years show that they’ve gotten into a relationship some time before the scene, and convince the audience that their relationship is good and healthy and genuine, than it would be to produce one for TV.

And then we come to seasons 6 and 7 – the 2-part AU longfic, stuffed full of OCs, loosely connected to the “science” of the original show, and heavily reliant on memory-bending time travel as a plot device.

As season 6 airs, the audience hasn’t really had a chance to process all the radical changes from season 5, and already we have a Marper child running around furthering the plot, and Octavia walks into the Green Flash from Pirates of the Caribbean and walks back out with a personality transplant.

Meanwhile, Clarke gets an actual personality transplant, and it takes even the people closest to her a concerningly long time to notice. Now, if I’d read that in a fic, the writer might’ve taken care to remind me as a reader – particularly after a long hiatus between seasons – that with the exception of Madi none of Clarke’s friends have seen her for more than a couple of weeks in 6 years, so them not noticing for a while that she’s behaving strangely isn’t really all that strange. But on TV, I don’t get to see Gaia’s thoughts when Clarke lets Madi go to school despite the danger – Tati Gabrielle’s facial expressions can only do so much to make up the difference. Because the time spent apart was not (and really could not be, based on the structure of the show) properly acknowledged on screen, scenes like that one leave audiences floundering and pointing out bad writing.

Having watched 7x02 The Garden, I think if I went back and watched season 6 after Octavia returns from the Anomaly, her conduct – especially around Bellamy – would make a lot more sense. (That was the plan for this weekend actually – but my damn Wi-Fi conked out…) However at the time it just seemed weird and unnatural. Had it been the only example of off-screen or asynchronous character development, it would have been a lot easier to swallow. However, season 5 happened, meaning both that I was still getting used to all of the new dynamics and that I had a higher standard for Octavia’s off-screen development, because we got enough bunker flashbacks that I felt like I at least understood Blodreina.

What would have made the whole thing make a lot more sense a year ago would have been if the hair and makeup department had made an effort to make her look older, so that we could see time had passed for her. Now, Marie is 33 in real life, and so was the Octavia who figured out that up is down and got Davy Jones Locker to send her back ran out of the Anomaly, so yes, that is what an actual 33-year-old looks like, and the media has distorted my perception of age. But from an audience perspective, I saw an actress playing a 23-year-old go in, and the same actress playing the same 23-year-old come out.

Gabriel pointed out that her hair was longer, but that only accounted for a few months of time. Since she went in looking dirty, wounded and exhausted, and came out clean, healthy and energetic, she could have passed for younger before I would have thought she was older. (In fact, I want to say there was a theory circulating at that time that the Octavia who came out of the Anomaly was actually a younger version of herself, and she was missing memories because she’d never formed them. I don’t remember whose theory this was though. If you know or if it’s your content I’m referencing please feel free to let me know and I’ll edit!)

In addition, the shifting loyalties in Wonkru near the end of season 5 complicated the character situation – in season 6, the majority of Wonkru peeps (lookin’ at you, Miller and Indra) switched over to the commander’s side. While Indra didn’t really have enough screen time to express an opinion about Octavia, Miller was very clear in season 6 that she was anathema now – which although that was probably a semi-reasonable step for his character, it just felt like someone took his Bellamy-and-or-Clarke-following season 1-4 character and popped it into his season 6 costume without taking the time to address the road he took to get there.

Post-lockerAnomaly Octavia had to face and slay her demons. (Grumbles and links the interested reader to this POST from @osleyakomwonkru regarding that horseshit.) Afterwards, she shows a major shift in personality, particularly towards her brother. Because we as the audience wouldn’t see her time on skyring for about year in real time (or learn that she was ten years older and therefore a lot more mature, the chemical changes of which would account for at least some of the difference even if she couldn’t remember anything else) we had no choice but to associate her change with the slaying of Blodreina, which seemed like a ham-fisted way of forcing her a quick and slick redemption arc and prepping The Blake Siblings to go back to being ride-or-die for each other in season 7.

Raven’s season 6 personality was also radically different from her 1-5 development – while I understand her having a remaining beef with Clarke and being emotional due to Shaw’s death (RIP!) the fact that the writing in season 6 reduced her to the nagging shrew trope until they needed her to do a coding deus ex machina just added to the feeling that I was watching someone take the characters around, change them to their own preferences (even if that preference was to push some into the background and make them tools for the B-plot) and toss them into an AU story. Which I could have enjoyed more if I had been reading it and therefore seeing inside the characters’ heads – and if I hadn’t paid for the privilege with ad revenue instead of voluntary clicks of the kudos/like/reblog/comment buttons.

Another issue with time skip relationship is exposition for the lesser known characters’ backstories. Both seasons 6 and 7 have so far had dramatic character mother death reveals that were conveniently not told to their most important people specifically because the appropriate time to tell those stories would have been during the offscreen time skips. I will (grudgingly) accept Echo, an adult making a conscious (and familiar) decision to change up her personality to fit into and survive within her environment, choosing not to tell a traumatic story that reminds her of her past. (She’s my next meta – stay tuned!)

I will not in a million years, however, believe that the Clarke Griffin who I watched for four seasons be set up as the blatantly obvious “compassionate mom-friend protagonist” adopted a traumatized 6-year-old, moved into said child’s village, burned or buried the bodies of everyone who lived there, and never ever brought up the child’s dead birth parents.

No way. The ONLY reason that could have possibly been scripted in that way was because that conversation needed to be there for plot reasons and the appropriate time for it to have been had was during the 6 years they spent off screen. Similarly, while (again) I’ll buy that Echo chose not to talk about her mom’s death with Bellamy before he decided to be a dick about it, I fully believe that the timing of that conversation was only there because if it had occurred on the ring where it would have been more appropriate, the audience would have missed it.

Now, picture this: if the scene with Madi had been in a written fanfic, Clarke could have said “you didn’t lose me,” Madi could have said “I didn’t mean you,” and Clarke could have remembered Madi telling her the story of her birth mom dying in her arms. Then Clarke could have mentally made the decision that she didn’t want Madi to relive that in an attempt to empathize with her, and she makes an effort to convince her that she’s fine. In just 2 or 3 paragraphs a written story could have effectively conveyed both the exposition and the emotional beats of the scene, concluding with Clarke making a (maybe misguided but still sweet) attempt to be a good mom by not dredging that up for Madi (or something – I’m not defending the crappy and inconsistent writing of Clarke’s parenting we’ve on screen so far).

Moving right along, we had a lovely flashback montage of Hope and Dev, which was sufficient to make me (and several of the tumblrs I follow) care about Dev at least enough to be saddened by his death. However, what we didn’t get was a damn crumb of flashback showing Orlando and Anomalykru developing any kind of familial relationship between him agreeing to train them, and whatever dynamic we were supposed to pick up on at the end of that episode. I got a little protective big sister vibe from Echo and Hope but that’s it. They apparently expended their allotment of emotion-inducing flashbacks on the dead guy, and failed entirely to make me give a shit about (as it turned out) the next dead guy.

Now we’re going into an episode with Octavia on (presumably) Bardo in the promo, so I’m guessing we get to see her skyring-self link up with her return-to-Gabriel-with-clean-hair self. As least with Octavia’s jumping storyline it seems like the writers have consistently made some kind of effort to fill in the blanks.

But we’re also looking at the rest of the season where Echo, Gabriel, Hope, oh hi Jordan I forgot about you again, Diyoza, Octavia, and probably Bellamy and Hoth!Kru (AKA team let’s follow Raven onto a strange planet without putting on suits or having an exit strategy, yay!) have all experienced asynchronous development over periods of multiple years. Given the show’s track record from seasons 5 and 6, I strongly suspect that this won’t be handled any better, meaning that the final season of this show is going to try not only to resolve all the plot points, but to toss in a bunch MORE offscreen character development and hope we catch on.

Beyond character development jumps, we also have Raven and Murphy losing their seasons 1-5 development in season 6 only to have to re-learn and re-change back to who they already were in seasons 4 and 5. Murphy learned to value his spacekru family and stop putting himself first 100% of the time, and yet his arc in season 6 happened. Raven has always been involved in the big life-or-death decisions, and had her being-the-bad-guy moment in season 4 with the rationing, but as we saw in 7x03 the writers really wanted to… redo all of that for her? The girl blew up a bridge full of guys and flash-fried a 300-person army when she was 18; blood on her hands may not be fun but what’s with seasons 6 and 7 acting like it’s something new?

While I’m aware that Jason said his seasons are individual movies (don’t admit that you’re bad at continuity buddy ‘cause that’s what it sounds like) seasons 1-5 and 6&7 are clearly telling separate stories (or 1-4, 5, 6-7 if you prefer). The trouble with 6&7 is that unlike seasons 1-4 (and sort-of 5) we no longer know the characters. Every time someone sits still too long, character-development wise, plot comes along and hits the reset button, tosses them into a wormhole for a couple of years and they come back with the same face but no continuity. It was difficult enough to deal with in season 5 – between 6 and 7 I just can’t keep up. (Even writing this meta, I have to keep going back because I remembered another character who fell into this trap.)

Now if a fanfic writer had done the exact same thing – same plot, same time skips, same organization – it would have played out completely different to the readers. We could have gotten to see inside the character’s minds when they arrived back on screen, seeing things with new, older eyes. We could have had minimally invasive flashbacks to show important exposition (like the disaster that was the conversation about Madi’s mom) and verbal descriptions to point out differences like Octavia’s ten-years-older body. Additionally, the plots of seasons 6 and 7 are so different yet full of overdone callbacks to the earlier seasons – if a fan was writing their own AU story but still wanted some of the trappings of the original plot I’d get it, but on a TV show written by the same people it just feels like they ran out of ideas.

Watching seasons 6 and 7 is exactly like watching fanfiction would be – but without the written and fan-made advantages of fanfiction, they fall flat.

*I do like season 7 better than season 6 because the content of the individual episodes containing Murphy/Emori/Raven and Octavia/Diyoza/bbyHope was still enjoyable content, so 2 out of 4 I have liked so far, despite this very very long rant I’ve just written explaining why as a whole I rather hate the season overall.

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thesaltyoceanwaves · 5 years

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What order would you recommend watching the second part of season 3? Since it's an out of order mess?

I mean, obviously watch Hearthunter and Miracle Queen in the correct order. If you feel like sitting through MQ that is.

After that, it’s hard to say. There is a production order, which looks something like this:

1. Chameleon

2. Animaestro

3. Bakerix

4. Backwarder

5. Reflekdoll

6. Weredad

7. Silencer

8. Onichan

9. Miraculer

10. Oblivio

11. Desperada

12. Christmaster

13. Startrain

14. Kwamibuster

15. Feast

16. Gamer 2.0

17. Stormy Weather 2

18. Ikari Gozen

19. Timetagger

20. Party Crasher

21. The Puppeteer 2

22. Cat Blanc

23. Felix

24. Ladybug

25. Hearthunter

26. Miracle Queen

Some of this order makes some sense, to an extent, although I can’t explain without getting into spoilers. So, anon, if you haven’t already watched the last part of the season and want to go in blind, I’d suggest returning to the later part of this post after that. Or you can just skip it, if you’re not looking for a long-winded rant. Otherwise, here I go.

SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRETY OF SEASON 3 FROM THIS POINT ON.

Ok, so things that make sense - Party Crasher coming after Desperada, Startrain, and Feast. It doesn’t really matter which of the first two comes first, so long as Party Crasher is after them, because Viperion and Pegase make their return. And we see that Fu is no longer hiding out at his place when he gives Kim Xuppu, so this has to take place after Feast.

Gamer 2.0 coming after Desperada, because she makes a cameo in the game, works.

Timetagger before Cat Blanc checks out, because Bunnix makes her return in the latter episode.

I forget where I saw this, but I think someone on the team said that it was important to see Animaestro before Oblivio, because the poster that the amnesiac Marinette and Adrien see makes more sense when you know it’s from the movie. This could have been easily changed in the script so that the two discover their identities regardless, but whatever I guess.

Both Feast and Stormy Weather 2 make sense as mid-season episodes in theory. There are so many problems with both of these episodes in execution, but I’m not going to detail that here. But on paper, an episode that changes the status quo for the second half of the season, and an episode that recaps how far everyone’s come both work at the midpoint.

Of course, there are so many issues with individual episodes in general, so if they were reworked, I think the order would have to be shifted dramatically.

Ladybug would have been a much better episode if it had been the season finale, or at least a two parter. If you’re going to start the season establishing the Lilanette rivalry, then it only makes sense to end the season with the escalation of that rivalry. And pull no punches either - Marinette’s relationships should get shaken up, characters should second guess their actions, and so forth. Alternatively, I have two other options for how this should have been handled.

1. This should have been put into season 2. Because going into Chameleon after Hero’s Day is jarring tonally, something that has been addressed numerous times by this point, so I’m not going into detail further.

2. If you’re going to keep Chloe as a recurring antagonist and fail to redeem herself, then you don’t really need Lila in the show at all. Marinette can still come across the grimoire when Adrien brings it to school. Maybe he forgets about it or something. The Scarlet Army can be caused by a bunch of things going wrong on Hero’s Day that have a domino effect. Chameleon can be cut entirely, along with Ladybug. Onichan can have Kagami in conflict with her mother, since she wants to be a good daughter and not cause problems, but also feels lonely. Lila only caused everything in Miraculer to happen at a quicker rate, but tbh, I still think the episode would have played out without her. Chloe would have gotten fed up with not getting the bee back and taken it out on Sabrina. This could be its own post tbh.

I agree with @miraculouscontent on Desperada taking place before Silencer, especially with Marinette’s behavior in Silencer basically forgetting all about Adrien, since Desperada she learns that she can like the both of them at the same time.

Felix wasn’t as bad as I was prepared for it to be, but I would still have Adrien reflect on his own pushy behavior toward Ladybug, and give the moral that harassment isn’t just physical, it can also be psychological and verbal as well. Also, I would give new, unique forms for Alya, Juleka and Rose.

Timetagger is okay mostly, but I would want some of the stakes to be higher and the foreshadowing to pack more of a punch. Maybe have future!Alix warn Chat that he’s taking things too far or something. Also, have Alya and Nino actually babysit their siblings together instead of making their friends do it. It’s not a good look for them.

Episodes I would cut:

--> Puppeteer 2 - if you’re not going to make this a dramatic episode where the friend group fights, and just have it as an excuse to embarrass Marinette, then it deserves to be cut. We could actually spend that time on fleshing out Alya and Nino, so that their progress in SW2 doesn’t amount to “dating” and “being superheroes”. Seriously, this episode is the mission statement of the season:

Any other S3 Episode: Clearly, I will have the scene meant to most humiliate/embarrass Marinette.

Puppeteer 2: Hold my beer.

--> Oblivio and Cat Blanc - these episodes are both major teases and do basically nothing for the Love Square except sabotage it. The second one especially explains to us why we shouldn’t ship these two together, in the most dramatic, over the top, killjoy way. Even if I was still a Love Square fan, I would still hate these episodes, because we could actually be getting scenes and episodes that actually develop Marinette and Adrien’s relationship with one another, but instead, we have to waste time and make people feel bad for wanting to “rush” things.

--> Bakerix - while I like that we’re getting more episodes focused on Marinette’s family, IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN HER MOM. Hell, this could have been the recap we got - maybe a two parter revolving around her parents realizing that they’ve been growing apart and that their daughter is getting older. OR Weredad could have been more about Marinette growing closer to her friends, not just a potential romance, while an Akumom episode could be about Sabine feeling out of touch with Marinette’s interests.

--> Christmaster - WHY DO WE NEED TWO CHRISTMAS EPISODES THAT WASTE OUR TIME WITH HUMILIATING AND/OR MAKING MARINETTE LOOK BAD? This one is worse in the sense that it could have focused on Nino for once, and have it focus on his relationship with his brother. But no. That’s not funny enough apparently.

→ Reflekdoll - A good example of a body swap/power swap episode: “Trading Faces” from Jimmy Neutron. Because the show actually shows both Jimmy and Cindy failing to adjust to the life of the other, learning to develop a small appreciation for the other by the end of the episode. JN is another episodic based show, so they’re still at each other’s throats for a while, but you can see that soften over time. Reflekdoll, on the other hand, refuses to have Chat learn or understand how hard Ladybug’s job is, especially when all he does is joke around and not take things seriously.

--> Gamer 2.0 - Another episode where Marinette “needs to learn to loosen up” but actually it should be “Marinette learns to prioritize everything in her life while still giving herself some downtime to relax and breathe”. Again, if you cut this episode, you lose nothing really.

TL;DR: You thought you were getting an answer for the best viewing order of season 3, but it was actually a rant about how season 3 is The Worst and how things could have been better. Go with the production codes, I guess.

#ml salt #salty answers #ml s3 salt #i think everyone is still amazed by netflix messing up the last two episodes #major wOW

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dayna-scully · 5 years

Text

ncis/tiva liveblog...the dregs

11x01

the real whiskey tango foxtrot is the writing on this show

at the moment, you

😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖

want some company?

yes :-)

murder me???????

“this is good”

that fake typing though

you’ll always be an agent in her heart

is mcgee Abby’s Shannon

after what happened to secnav, how can I stay?

oh gut punch

clonk

I mean, someone’s gonna get a souvenir from Tony’s trip to Israel

a living, breathing, tiny human souvenir…

maybe it’s not the brightest idea, but we’re not coworkers anymore, so

Anthony!!!!!!

he was so happy

I’ll travel for good hummus

I didn’t know that “hummus” was, uh, some kind of new…slang

but all of their stuff is still there?

mid century mob hit

where’s ziva?

thank you dick

he reminds me of the terrible sweets clone bones got after sweets died

which was a terrible decision, btw

who would she trust

TONY

SHE WOULD TRUST TONY

oh tony

11x02

don’t worry tony, we will be okay

can you put the hammer down please

perhaps the him is you

baby ziva hadn’t yet been weaponized by the men in her life

gibbs absolutely knows who Captain Kirk is

why should she have the man that she loves

wow that’s really dark

and cruel

he looks good with some hair on his face

Tim does not

I can’t believe they’ve kept that goatee on him for multiple seasons

tony should have stayed in Israel

baby!!!!

“I meant to do that this morning”

HE DIDNT FORGET HE WAS JUST TOO BUSY GETTING BUSY

confession: I don’t think I’ve ever actually watched this episode

I didn’t watch s11 because at that point we (obvs) knew cote wasn’t staying

yeah dinozzo can sure feel somethin

maybe you could try saying what you’re saying

he already found her, dad

you know how hard that was

you did not have to do any of this

except???? He did????

her “old life” man fuck these writers

finally I found you here, of course

FUCK THESE WRITERS

the center of all this pain is me

I’ll kill whoever wrote that

I hate these people!!!!

this is what Eli made of her

bad adr

tony should have stayed

it’s a start

you don’t have to do this alone

ziva was a fantastic investigator, regardless of what she did for Mossad

she loved being an investigator

this doesn’t make sense

just come home

I remember after truth and consequences came out I sat down with a notebook and my iPod and whittled down a tiva playlist

it was a very intense project

I just want you to come home with me

oh tony

I can change with you

he should have just…stayed

that’s a very bad fake black eye

did he clip Tobias’ ass

you shot me in the ass!

I’m the one got shot in the ass for it

they done did it

I want to make him proud

😖😖😖😖😖 her daddy

alone

that’s horseshit

horseshit!

tony you are so…loved

I wanna be done with this

this hurts more than I remember

I am more angry about all this than I remember

then came tali

pick up the phone!!!

hey ziver

13x24

who made these terrible styling choices

why does tony look like an old man

I bet it’s the same person who thinks that goatee McGee has now was a good idea

I can’t stay here

surely she would have told gibbs

right??

he wouldn’t have told tony

maybe she wouldn’t have told him tony was the father

oh tony

ah, dinozzo

oh are you just fucking figuring that out now gibbs??????

ten years later??????

really???

I hate these writers

I need to know what happened

I’ll breathe when Trent kort is dead

are these writers fucking serious

his ziver???????

fuck

stop with the monologue

something about you running off with her father

friends don’t let friends get hit by mortar fire

you’re Mossad you know everything

like, this whole ass house was leveled to nothing but tali’s room just…survived intact

how convenient!!!!! Almost like ziva had planned this!!!!

tali girl

tali is ziva’s daughter

and your daughter, tony

what a clusterfuck

no doubts

that was not her decision to make

it wasn’t

it was, for once, in character

but it was a shitty decision nonetheless

she knew you wouldn’t be pleased/then she never knew me at all

we cannot lose sight of Anthony

daddy tony

tali’s aba

your mom always packed a go bag

because she was always one step ahead

and she would have been ahead of this

you’re a single dad now, tony

were you and ziva an item the whole time

because lbr of all of them, McGee would absolutely be the last one to figure it out

and he wouldn’t even figure it out, Abby would tell him

I loved her, Tim

ima and aba

ziva must have told her

tony must have always had that with him

I think I’ve decided against watching 16x13

I know the gist of what happens, I’ve seen the screenshots

I don’t read Hebrew, so the fantranslations are all I really need anyways

I don’t really want to watch them write gibbs badly again

how did he get his eyeball back

selective morality

she was my family

I’ve never been anybody’s everything before

abby knew

abby 100% knew

aaand I’m done

I don’t even really know how to summarize all of this. I don’t understand the thought that will-they-won’t-they is somehow more exciting and fulfilling than consummation of slowburn. Shows keep doing it over and over again, and sometimes they get it right at the last minute (see: josh and Donna, tww) but most of the time they get it wrong. Like at least with something like Olivia and Elliot (svu) there was a reason that they couldn’t be together - he was married (though I think they could have and should have handled Chris leaving better than him just vanishing).

Bones kind of fumbled through it all - I don’t think that they would have put b/b together if Em hadn’t gotten pregnant. Maybe eventually, but I think they had and would have made the same mistakes the ncis writers did.

Clearly that could have been handled better, but like b/b being together was so good?? They were happy, there was still drama, but god it wasn’t a poorly written tease (well, actually, let’s not get into the quality of the writing on Bones)

Cote is such a fantastic actor, and as horrible as MW is, he is (was??) a really good match for her (was if only because bull kind of sucks and I’m not sure if it’s shitty writing or him sucking or him not wanting to be there??). There was so much emotion and intensity in all of their scenes, romantic or not, it’s absolutely astounding. I really appreciate them for all the effort that they put into tiva, because they were really the heart of it.

How often do you have couples that are written but not acted? Couples with absolutely no on-screen chemistry, and actors who can’t or won’t put the effort in to make it work. And they had that! They could have done so much with it. But the writers failed. Over and over again, they failed to deliver consistent characterization and complex plots beyond the same old.

Tony was so much more than a frat boy.

Ziva was so much more than a weapon and a perpetual victim.

I was trying to find good fanfic while I was watching (I…didn’t find much), but there was one where the author decided that Ziva, who was alive, had only put the message out that tali was Tony’s because she knew it would get his attention, and that tali was just some random guy’s. And that really pisses me off. Ziva (the writers) made some really poor choices in regards to Ziva’s impulse control, but that’s too far - Ziva wouldn’t intentionally hurt tony, and that would be the worst thing she could do.

Ugh. I’m tired.

basically how I feel about the series:

#ncis #tiva #liveblog #show: ncis #ship: tiva

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i-am-the-entertainer · 6 years

Text

RevieWBY: Volume 6

This has been stated so many times, but Volume 5 was bad. Okay, it wasn’t terrible, like I don’t feel offended by it being bad (unlike certain folks), but looking back on it I don’t have anything to say to really defend it as something Rooster Teeth should have talked up as much as they did at the time. It had some good things going for it, but the amount of problems it had in terms of animation and writing really put a sour taste in everyone’s mouth. So for Volume 6 to deal with all that fallout, it was going to have to do a lot. And to their credit, CRWBY accepted the criticism in stride, and actively worked to make Volume 6 something that people who despised Volume 5 might enjoy.

Still, one had to go into this season with the understanding that some people were never going to be completely satisfied with whatever CRWBY did. Because at the end of the day, the RWBY that Rooster Teeth currently makes is not Monty Oum’s show anymore. No, this isn’t saying CRWBY is in any way disrespecting his legacy, it’s just Monty Oum had a certain method to running the show that only he could really get away with: epic fight scenes, suddenly throwing giant curveballs into the series’ mythology, taking vital time away from storytelling so the fights looked cool. I mean, there are people who criticize the show for doing that now when they didn’t give two shits when Monty did it, because Monty did it in a manner that somehow worked. I don’t know how he did it, but he did, and, well, he’s not here to do it, and there’s no way even a huge animation team can collectively do things like him. And they shouldn’t: if they can use a better industry standard animation engine than Poser, than the fact that Monty Oum didn’t like animating with Maya shouldn’t stop them.

Blah blah blah...this is all about FNDM reception. What did I think of Volume 6?

Well...

Focus

In my mid-volume review I cited this as Volume 6′s strongest aspect, and as far as I can tell this remains the case. By focusing our hero storyline on one group and for the most part the villain storylines on only a few characters who were paired off, Volume 6 effectively told a story that didn’t force the viewers to juggle multiple things and find some semblance of a continuing story. Everything happened linearly and the whole thing made for a more enjoyable watch overall.

Tone

Building off of that renewed focus, this volume felt like it had more of a consistent tone that lasted from beginning to end. RWBY markets itself as an anime show and uses a lot of that anime-style of humor (slapstick and comedically exaggerated emotions), but honestly it’s always played fast and loose with using that humor in a way that doesn’t feel out of place. In this volume it was more consistently used, and that’s largely thanks to the nailed down focus that allowed character interactions to utilize the humor in a natural way. Ruby and Maria Calavera were especially good sources for humor.

Now, things did get a little more screwball when Cordovin came into the mix, but it was interesting seeing CRWBY take that humor to a logical extreme for the first time in a while (not since the Beacon years). It interrupted the tone for a bit, but not in a manner that overall changed the genre this show is going for.

Animation

Beautiful. The improved production pipeline that we’ve heard about really came through. These episodes were the best they’ve ever looked, minus a few errors here and there, showing just how amazing RWBY can look when you give the animators time to add their own touches. There was some really great fight animation to boot: none of the fights this volume felt awkward, and you could tell the animators had a lot of fun.

Worldbuilding/Storytelling

It feels weird saying that Volume 6 did a better job with worldbuilding than Volume 4, which took place on four different continents and traveled across one, and Volume 5, which took place on two different continents and featured the second major skirmish between the villains and the heroes. I think this has to do with just how well it was integrated into the story: insight into the world came at points where the story needed it and when the viewers wanted it. Nothing ever felt like a massive info dump better suited World of Remnant; where there was just too much information delivered that wasn’t relevant to what was happening in the show. Volumes 4 and 5 had this same problem with establishing the world, often telling us too much in a way that just didn’t feel natural to the story. With Volume 6, almost every chapter up until the final Argus arc included some form of that insight:

Chapter 1 showed us how ordinary civilians deal with traveling through Grimm territory––the steps they take to protect themselves

Chapter 2 showed us some aspects of the Mistral criminal underground, not telling us too much about it but suggesting it was much larger than what Cinder encountered.

Chapter 3 showed us...so many things.

Chapter 4 offered a sense of the stakes RWBY faced in relation to all of Remnant.

Chapter 5 and 6 gave us a glimpse at another form of non-city life in Remnant.

Chapter 7 introduced us to Argus, my favorite of all the Remnant cities we’ve seen; plus a glimpse into the life of the silver-eyed warriors; and a more representative depiction of what domestic life is like in Remnant

Chapter 8 told us what Atlas personnel who aren’t Ironwood or Winter are like, plus the long-awaited insight into how the silver eyes work.

Chapter 9 shows something of the effect the Battle of Beacon, and by extension Pyrrha’s death, had outside of our core group.

Things kind of teeter off with the finale arc, but that’s because worldbuilding became a little less important to what was going on. This is kind of a stretch, but the mech fight and the arrival of the Grimm in Argus give us an idea of how large non-capital cities defend themselves without just spelling everything out.

All in all, this volume delivered on some impressive worldbuilding, probably the best the series has had in a while. It wasn’t massive info dumps unless it needed to be (e.g. Chapter 3), and it offered just enough for other important things like the storytelling and the action to still be in the forefront.

Characters

Volume 5, despite the fact it involved the major reunion of Team RWBY after two volumes, felt like it was simply putting the main characters through situations without those situations really doing anything to develop them or define them as anything beyond what we already knew. Some characters fared better on the development front, namely Yang, but others, especially Ruby, just seemed to be along for the ride without us getting any insight into them. This is where the writing issue that came from separating everyone starting with Volume 4 really came to a head: too many different characters with their own story to cover, and sometimes those stories just didn’t do much for the character beyond existing as a situation they were in.

Volume 6 feels like the refutal of that, and that mostly has to do with the fact that we’re not juggling so many storylines anymore. When a major event happens to the heroes, everyone gets affected at the same time. The train crashes? DEVELOPMENT! Jinn’s story? DEVELOPMENT AND INSIGHT! Snowstorm? INSIGHT! The Apathy? DEVELOPMENT! Telling team JNR about Jinn’s story? DEVELOPMENT! Adam ambushes Blake and Yang for the first time since Volume 3? DEVELOPMENT! WITH A HEALTHY DOSAGE OF ANGST!

Surprisingly, the same thing is happening to two of our favorite villains, Mercury and Emerald: even though they only really appeared in three chapters this Volume, we actually got a surprising chance to see how their defeat at the Battle of Haven affected them, and their increasingly strong misgivings about working for Salem. We get more of an idea of them as people rather than Cinder’s blind followers, understanding why they stuck with such an evil person for so long. It’s the most we’ve learned about them since Volume 3, and we didn’t even need lengthy flashbacks.

Even Adam got some more insight. RWBY has been following the path that Adam was an abusive ex-boyfriend for quite a while now, but there was always this underlying thought that he got into the White Fang business for a seemingly noble cause. The problem was the show hadn’t depicted how he got from Point A to Point B. The Adam Character Short offered us some of that much needed insight, putting some of his actions up to this point in a new context, even if it was set-up for clearing up some things so they could get rid of him.

Of course, there are still exceptions to characters getting character development, and honestly they’re kind of glaring ones. Oscar’s development arc, where he came to accept he was his own person, completely happened offscreen (for reasons that I’ve brought up before and will reiterate in the final section), robbing us of really witnessing his growth as a person. I enjoyed some of the stuff Cinder did this volume, especially her escape from the vault and her fight with Neo. But honestly she continues to be a pretty bland villain with little hints at her motivations for being such a terrible person: the Battle of Haven was such an utter defeat for her there needed to be some form of consequence that would’ve affected her character while also telling us more about her. Maybe it would’ve been her strategizing her revenge, which would’ve gotten more insight into how she thinks as a master planner. Instead, we get her leaving the vault, more or less going back to what she used to do but in a more low-key setting, fighting with Neo, plotting with Neo, and leaving with Neo. It felt more like “Hey, she’s alive, and here’s what she’s doing,” which while I appreciate it feels kind of a waste of time if you’re not doing anything with her beyond that. Honestly, a post-credits reveal that she was alive and then a pre-Volume 7 character short detailing how she made it to Atlas that covered her and Neo’s entire storyline this volume would’ve been more helpful.

Before I go on to my most major critique of this volume, I need to address the two Goliaths in the room.

Adam

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: they needed to get rid of Adam. The way things have been going, there was only so much more you could do with his character before he became a nuisance that was overstaying his welcome. I understand people wanted some deeper insight into him, but the fact was he was never introduced to be a major villain to anyone beyond Blake and later Yang. They could’ve had him have a thing against Weiss, but they didn’t, they focused the time that would’ve made him a major villain for everyone else on making people like Roman and Cinder and Salem the big villains. They decided on the path of abusive ex-boyfriend a very long time ago, and if you hadn’t figured that out after the Adam Character Short I honestly think you were being willfully ignorant to what’s been building up.

The best I can say is that Adam and his history is a missed opportunity for some pretty interesting storytelling and worldbuilding, but the fact remains: it is not his story that they want to tell, it is not his show. It may make something interesting to think about, but Adam’s story is supplementary, and works better in supplementary material, a la character shorts and maybe mangas.

Jaune

Y’all need to quit it with the “Hrrr drr Jaune took up time again moan moan Miles Luna is self indulgent” talk, he barely did anything this volume beyond Chapter 9 and having a sister that the whole fandom loved.

Pacing

This...this is where Volume 6 ran into trouble.

Overall, from the season premiere to the finale arc, this was probably the best-paced season of RWBY we’ve ever had. Major story events happened right when we needed them, and for the most part they didn’t drag out story arcs for any longer than they needed to be.

Well...until they reached Argus, that is.

At face value, a lot happened in the final couple of chapters. Chapter 8 gave us Maria explaining the silver eyes, Chapter 9 had the scene with Pyrrha’s statue and the mysterious Red-Haired Woman (I’ll headcanon whatever I want about who she is, Jen Brown) Chapter 10 started the Cordovin fight, Chapter 11 reinforced Blake and Yang’s partnership, Chapter 12 killed Adam, and Chapter 13 had Ruby finally use her silver eye powers to defeat a Grimm and they made it to Atlas. Yeah, it was a pretty eventful set of episodes.

So then why did it feel like it dragged? Here are a couple reasons that I’ve identified.

1. The Cordovin Battle sidelined story arcs for too long

I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: the finale arc should not have been split up like that over so many episodes. It afforded us some pretty well-animated fights, some of the best the series has ever had, but the volume hadn’t been relying on that action to keep up the forward momentum, but on actually telling the stories of these characters. I get the need for CRWBY to prove that they can do well-animated fights, but as I’ve come to accept action should never take precedence over storytelling (I know, that’s hard to swallow when parts of the fndm spends hours complaining about how Monty’s not animating the fights anymore). And it’s clear to me in this final arc put emphasis on the action over the momentum of the story, bringing the actually pretty good storytelling the volume had had up to that point to a grinding halt.

Now, historically RWBY fights have delayed telling stories, but it’s never been for too long, at most maybe two chapters? But if you spend three chapters on a single fight, thereby devoting three weeks of your viewers’ time to high-octane action, people are gonna notice that the story is basically going nowhere.

What could’ve made this less of a problem? Well, perhaps establishing Cordovin earlier and making her less of a buffoon would’ve eased my hatred of this arc. Volume 6 lacks a clear antagonist for the story, but the way Cordovin was treated as a big deal in this final battle made it seem like she was taking up that role, except we didn’t even see her until the final half of the volume, and in her debut we couldn’t take her seriously as a villain, much less an antagonist, because of the pure comedy they used in her intro. There needed to be something about her at least a few episodes early––take this with a grain of salt because I think following JNR in Argus would’ve killed the balanced pacing of the first half of the volume (and just made the Jaune haters apoplectic), but maybe a few quick scenes of JNR arriving in Argus and getting rejected by her would’ve been helpful. Or honestly easing off on the comedy of her intro. Such a one-note character who we are primed to not take seriously isn’t interesting as a major force, so identifying her as a more threatening roadblock for the heroes would’ve made the stakes of the final fight a little more...present.

2. Important storylines got trimmed for time’s sake and weren’t addressed properly.

@hypeathon (whose excellent production analyses for this Volume are well worth a read) identified a tweet Miles made back in October, prior to the premiere and most likely when they were finishing storyboards, about “killing your darlings.” For those unaware and who may have severely misinterpreted that comment, “killing your darlings” is when writers have to sacrifice something they love or want to do so that the story works better. The timeliness of this tweet (after they would’ve finished the script but before they’d wrapped on storyboards and voice acting for the final episodes) suggests the writers’ room had to cut a lot of material from Volume 6 (what Miles called a massacre of darlings), most likely due to production limits or not having enough time to cover them.

Think about it: the story from Chapters 1-7 was really good: everything was properly spaced out, the scripts felt polished, there was a balance of action and comedy and legit storytelling, the good pacing lasted longer than it ever has within a single volume.

Then we hit Chapter 8 and suddenly it all changes: storylines don’t get the proper time devoted to them, arcs come to a screeching halt due to the big fight. Unlike previous volumes, where the imbalance was pretty much the entire volume, there’s actually a clear point right in the middle of this volume where things suddenly took a turn for the worse. And the fact is, some of the problems with the story in the final arc suddenly make more sense if you accept that time that would’ve been devoted to it got sidelined in this “purge”: Qrow’s alcoholism suddenly getting brushed aside after Chapter 9 hopefully to be addressed next volume, Oscar disappearing and all his development happening offscreen, Adam’s completely unsubtle return after only a vague hint in Chapter 1 that would’ve been stronger if he’d kept popping up in Argus. I’d even go so far to say the odd pacing of the final few chapters could easily have been the result of the writing team not being able to devote a single chapter to such a grand fight, so they needed to stretch it out so CRWBY could actually animate it within reasonable deadlines, which meant sacrificing time for those arcs that so desperately needed development.

So what overall is gonna fix RWBY’s pacing in the future? Well, I think at the moment the show is too ambitious. If it wants to keep to a reasonable production schedule, they need to control the scale of their finales so that it can be completed without needing to sacrifice other storylines. If it wants to hold onto that ambition and make the finales as grand as they want it to be to do their boy Monty proud, then they absolutely need to delay the actual release of the volume so they can put in the proper amount of time to both the story and animation. And I don’t think anyone would mind waiting a little longer for Volume 7 if it meant this show got the care and attention it needs to tell the story it clearly wants to tell.

Conclusions

Evaluating Volume 6 is impossible without evaluating what came before it. RWBY was never a perfect show, but when you lose someone who was responsible for the show’s popularity in the first place and have to change how it’s made to make up for his absence, there’s going to be backlash. Backlash from the fans, and, uh, backlash from inside the company. The fact is, people are never going to be satisfied with the RWBY that Rooster Teeth makes today, and Rooster Teeth is never going to push out a RWBY that will make everyone happy. All they can really do is keep moving forward.

And move forward they did. Despite my problems with the finale, Volume 6 was good. I’ve always been sort of ambivalent about the show (I was drawn to it by my brother shortly before Monty’s death and have been watching it out of respect for him and the company as creative artists), and even if I thought some of RWBY’s critics were being too harsh (or seriously needed to find something better to do), I didn’t find Volumes 4 and 5 enjoyable enough that I felt like defending them. But guys, Volume 6 did something amazing: it made RWBY fun to watch again. Focused, consistent, and compelling storytelling plus gradually eased-in worldbuilding made for a story that I could follow along without having to juggle so many different plots. Improvements in the overall animation made things nice to look at and when fights happened they were always entertaining, never making me cringe or grimace, always making me think “Hell yeah, beat the shit out of them!” Just like I felt back in the old days of the show.

I feel as though what’s holding RWBY back at this point, however, is adhering to the production schedule that its old vision called for in making its current vision. And it honestly cannot keep doing that. RWBY is a show trying to reach grand heights, and its rushed production timelines and lost story arcs are keeping it tethered to the ground. Yet I can’t help but say: Volume 6 is RWBY at its finest so far. It can’t fix the problems that previous volumes have had, but it builds on the void those problems left to build a story that makes this show feel like something worth following once more.

So, I can safely say I’ll be following along when RWBY returns for Volume 7...hopefully later rather than sooner (again, it needs a better production schedule).

#rwby #rwby6 #reviewby #crtq

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sole-cuore-amore-e-droga · 5 years

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Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta United Kingdom to Eurovision with a blatantly non-blatant Melodifestivalen reject

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Yes, obviously, Eurovision: You Decide might as well be the safest NF to ever exist. We get that you don’t want to even try, the UK, but can you please act like you’re not in Big 5 for a year and ATTEMPT to try your hardest with the song??? I doubt that, despite SuRie’s bubbliness, “Storm” would’ve pulled numbers if it were in semi, unless the anti-neo-Nazi stage invader were to butt-in there and people would then send sympathy televotes the Brits’ way or something. Unsatisfying. (The man, that is.)

And so we have gotten another safe as ever British entry this year, performed by an excited personality that got a side-dish song and now is tasked to sell the side-dish as greatly as he’s possibly able to - the first season of All Together Now winner, Michael Rice! The dish is “Bigger than Us” and I’m neither glad nor sad the song has not enough factor to eat up Michael as a whole if it’s that much BIGGER. Not even the fact that it’s a Melodifestivalen reject (yes, the title IS correct, one of the song’s co-writers, whom I’ll name later, has possibly said it at some point, and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore so he sent it over to another country!) could help this poor number out.

If you strip the singer off, you just get a stereotypical Eurovision-y ballad you overhear when scavenging through foreign NF catalogues, wondering which kind of rent-a-songwriter-program person contributed to it. Well John Lundvik (yes THAT one) doesn’t sound like THAT kind of name you’d hear when you think of songwriters of such shtick but Laurell Barker is, so there you go. These are just the two masterminds behind this one, as there are more but icr their names and honestly idc to.

And there’s nothing wrong about these typical ESC NF shlocks. Only when you’re young and dumb enough to enjoy these kind of songs, but I had to unfortunately grow up and see just how “useful” they are... n’t. I mean, it’s great for the artists whose big dream is to taste Eurovision and NOT as a backing singer, but most of the time the singers that get these songs can’t even slightly relate to what they sing, and thus we get people like Bishara entering Melodifestivalen and Isaiah entering Eurovision.

Maybe Michael did get to experience the kind of love that’s BIGGER than him and his partner, idk. I certainly don't want to bother asking him. And frankly, it's only me overthinking this issue, because ain't nobody in the world really got time for that, definitely. Well, at least the relationship’s going on nice! (except for when Mike sings “‘cause I can heare the universe when I’m feeling you breathe”... spooky. o.I)

Anyway, time to get to talk more about the song. It's actually not THAT bad, just a little too typical and unextraordinary, where in the current times the Eurovision has to not be predictable in sound and to excite the viewer with... well, anything that can excite anyone. Be it the visuals OR the song. OR both. What's so special about "Bigger than Us" that can keep the viewer on toes? Probably just that keychange. I wish there were more things about it but not every commentator out there would have enough time to let them people know Michael works in a waffle shop, let alone the time that "HE WON A TALENT SHOW'S FIRST SEASON BUT THE SHOW ISN'T THE X FACTOR OR THE VOICE ZOMFG!!". Let alone people even listen to any Eurovision commenting these days, lol. It might be a charming little piece for some people though, but I don't see them voting for people selling their songs vocally much more than songs that draw in viewers with different ways. It's just a standart talent show winner song for a standart talent show winner that sounds like it's slightly too stuck in the mid-to-late-00s-early-10s rather than the 90s, which is warm and cool and all, but it's likely gonna not do the cool lad Michael the justice he'd need, just like SuRie's song for SuRie. Mayhaps a top 20-ish, or, in Lucie's case, even a top 15, is possible (although it's mostly thanks to the juries - they're the only ones eating up big voice ballads. And anything Maltese. And anything Australian. And anything Swedish... that only represents Sweden. Sorry Lukas Meijer), but when the British optimism levels are set in a deep deep ditch by default every year when the BBC comes with their platter of choices for EYD, what else could be there to raise them up after even Lucie hasn't done that amazing enough for everyone to believe that the UK are capable more than just always finishing last with 0 every year? Of course, a better than average song, but does BBC care about even pulling one out of a songwriting camp? These kind of songs are too shite for their taste, apparently, so with songs they send like these, it's probably yet another meander-er.

Which is a shame, because once again, it's not bad. It's just too plain Jane for Eurovision anymore. It's like everyone dressed up gorgeously for Miss Universe's National Costume event and you went with a cheap-ish designer dress that is decorated by small details that are notoriously known as the country's symbols just to count as something "national". It's like everyone brough their best baked (and dare I say extreme) dish to a dish competition and you only brought in a nice looking baked cod and circled the fries around it. It's like a prom night where everyone dresses casually and you come up all in a dull olive colored jacket and jeans with torn out knees. There might be something hidden in its niceness that can conquer (nice piano, nice chords, nice vocals, nice chorus, nice song formula, nice choir, nice keychange, nice message)... but with everything too nice, it just feels like that the UK are not feeling like getting a 'nice' result. Unless there's something that can make Michael do a 'male Lucie' and launch it around the 14th-19th place at best, but...

And here's the section where I repeat myself some more of what I think of the song as a whole and chances as a whole:

Approval factor: Eh I'll probably have to approve this but only reluctantly somewhat, maybe because I felt positive on the first listen unlike these people who wanted UK to dare to do something else than safe... yeah lol

Follow-up factor: It’s rather marginably favourable song than SuRie’s and only because I like it despite its ‘blandness’. “Storm” is just a song that I don’t really care about. Provided Michael gives all out personality-wise though and the revamp’s not gonna suck balls (if there’s one), this is a decent step in a decent direction for the UK... hope Michael’s not getting stage-invaded by anti-Israel people!

Big 5 factor: Thanks to all this pre-partying kicking in heavily as I put out these reviews (and actually having finished), it turns out that Michael is one of those people that clearly works his hardest to sell this typical British averageness (like he sells his waffles), with his live being so decent enough he was thought of to be a perfect EYD winner this year, so, if he keeps building up his vocal strenghts and rehearses a lot (and stays well and such), he’s actually likely to at least achieve something above bottom 7! Yes, yes, John Lundvik is still the master that will beat his pupil in the end, but that wouldn’t seem that excruciating for the UK anymore if they happen to have a place that’s not bottom 3 or anything. Just for the Michael to do his utmost best out there, and if he does, the UK won’t be in an extremely bad position this year - just not a very high reacher, because at the end of the day there are more nations that run straight with their A-game and therefore continue leaving the common-appealers in the dust. Only Sweden (and Australia until 2018 or so) usually excels at their safeness. The others must outstand to survive. And to wrap things up on this factor section, imo the UK just meanders in the safeness for another year - but at least the good enough safeness that might even be able to qualify if it were sent by a semifinalist country! (apart Sweden ffs, of course Mr. Lundvik would qualify with this one if he kept it to himself, jeez)

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

Thankfully EYD didn’t really stink this year, because of certain key factors:

• There’s always this one or two act(s) that acts like a saviour each year. Bianca and Dulcima (or Darline idk) from 2016, Holly and Salena from 2017, Asanda (and maybe Jaz? or even Raya??) from 2018 and... ponder no more, Kerrie-Anne’s got you covered in that spot! Her version of the two one’s of “Sweet Lies” was arguably the greatest possible choice for the NF (or, in this case, the “very least bad”, and eventhough it’s incredibly reminiscent of Sigala’s “Sweet Lovin’” (vocals provided by Bryn Christopher, who - controversial opinion - is probably my fave male singer of all time), which makes it “dated” (to a 2012-2014 pop radio degree, yes), it still was a bop that I’d want to dance to in rollerskates (if I had any!!) and spray the colourful smoke things that... well idk what it is but the said video of “Sweet Lovin’” demonstrates the action. Get back to me to let me know what’s that, anyone reading this. K-A lowkey underperformed though (just like Asanda from last year) but the bop remained AND she was rightfully included in the British televote’s superfinal trio! ^^

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• The hosts were, yet again, the ever-so-loveable comedienne of Lithuanian roots, Mel Giedroyc, and the witty-ass Eurovision 2015 winner Måns Zelmerlöw. The duo is charming as usual and delightful to see on the Beebs when there’s the Eurovision case. If I didn’t know him better I’d even say Måns is a native English speaker. When there’s at least the drought of the ever-so-good entries in an EYD, we can look back at the hosts provided us some entertainment we’ve probably been missing while trying to find some on those competing entries. My favourite moment throughout that evening was the “next up is” jokes, all randomly stringed together, all in one row - all of those “next ups” were so hilariously random (until one hit the point - I think it was something about adverts or another performance being next up).

• The postcards were lovely too. With the format of EYD upgraded to make it as a three-song duel between two different versions of each one and the juries deciding on the best one for each (one vote per version), we got to see some nice friendships over there (I mean, a postcard for two people who did duel over whose version is the best - they had to listen and compliment each others’ versions) and some nice things the artists said themselves on separate postcards. Like the time when the only band of the competition of the year’s, MAID, named Buranovskiye Babushki as one of their girlband idols (a ‘so random yet glorious‘ answer) and the victorious Michael confessing that he’s “never been to Tel(iv) Aviv”... that’s true Michael, I believe ya. You’ve so never been there that ou struggle to even say it right! Not to mention that the postcard setups were cozy, too.

• Can we all just kind of agree that at least the jury for EYD made THE BEST CHOICES POSSIBLE??? I mean, yeah, it’s a biT cruel they’re the ones to choose the superfinalists without the audience’s interference, but they still made the best choices possible, at least imo. Anisa’s “Sweet Lies” was a godawfully dreary sex slow-jam (no really, I can’t not imagine a scenario where you can’t use it anywhere other than a sex scene in a movie, or a steamy hot shower scene. Call me crazy-minded but it’s true), MAID’s “Freaks” was godawfully too creepy, strange and unbearable, and Holly Tandy’s “Bigger than Us”... well... while much more chill and way less overbearing (also with not enough “BIGGER” memes potential), it would have probably not stood out all that much - just written off as a Kygo remix rented for a cheap price of half a pound (but still co-written by John Lundvik though!!). So thanks to Rylan and the other two for picking the superfinalists reasonably, unlike A Dal jurors this year. It still wrenches my gut whenever I think about it, ugh.

• What even would be an appearance of Måns if he didn't try to remind y'all of his enthusiasm for Eurovision. No one really cares he won Eurovision 4 years ago, if anything, I dread that he's only being remembered as the "male singer guy of Love Love Peace Peace song" by the newer fans. At least Pepperidge Farm I remember how Måns really wanted to get to Eurovision (even if he didn't participate in that many Melodifestivalen editions). So in this year's EYD he went all out to be a part of the Eurovision best (British?) songs medley (and we got Katrina and the Waves later in the show, performing the nation's last winning hit, 22 years later... and that wasn't even a fully British-branded win, if yanno what I mean!), and it's all courtesy of the Melodifestivalen's best known scriptwriter and an occasional Eurovision commentator (and Melodifestivalen's narrator too), Edward af Sillén. Or at least I remember it being written that he has written some stuff for Måns to do in EYD, IDK. Eitherway, it was kind of a fun thing, the interlude. Just remembering all the nice Eurovision entries out there, even including Gina G (whose ESC entry was also sung by another person in another NF whose review will be up next I suppose!).

• Heyyyyy, wasn’t it all kinds of nice to see SuRie doing an interval act and a reprise of her own run-of-the-mill entry “Storm”? I applaud her of doing a tremendous piano rendition of it, with even singing some notes a little higher than in the actual song. Maybe THAT version could have done so much better in Lisbon - showing off SuRie’s vocal decency, intimacy and... idk about the intruder part, hopefully he’d have had no way to wrestle the mic out of SuRie’s hands that time. At least SuRie had just enough support from Eurofans to be wanted to represent the UK one more year in a row, with a special EYD designed for her, where the songs could be mostly composed by her and not by the useless songwriting camp. While it’s a nice idea for some British and non-British people to get to know each other on these camps, the end results barely end up satisfying because the artists barely get involved in the songs they’re singing - not even a song line, not even a hum of contribution! Why can’t you at least take examples from German songwriting camps... (except for the time “Sister” was invented, that one could have been a perfect contribution for an EYD (not necessarily in this year’s format but still)

All in all, this may seem like an improvement of things, but I still am really hoping that BBC will give into a decent internal selection... afterall there are good names that are down to do Eurovision and didn’t even say it will harm their ‘reputation’ (*cough* Paloma Faith *cough* Hurts), and yet BBC refuses them somehow, not thinking that Eurovision is more than just a SONG contest (while ironically not even having their songs sounding THAT ‘great’, oops)? Or at least reformat EYD big time and make it exciting a la Australia Decides is (you know you suck when even your colony does better NFs than you). For now, I’ll just grit my teeth and nicely wish Michael Rice all the best in Tel(iv) Aviv. You’ll need it, chap! And in secret I hope that you’ll get it xx

#eurovision 2019 #tel aviv 2019 reviews #united kingdom 2019 #michael rice #bigger than us #united kingdom

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tayegi · 7 years

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New Rules Ch. 5

Word Count: 10,058

A few minutes later, you sit on the bleachers with Hoseok, notepad and audio recorder on the bench between you two as you watch Taehyung roll around in the grass with his high-tech camera, trying to get a good candid shot of the players.

"So," you clear your throat, calling attention back to yourself, "I'm going to begin recording now, and why don't we start off with some basic information?" You ask as you press the little red button on the audio recorder.

"Sure," Hoseok agrees, "What would you like to know?"

"Just the basics," you say, "Full name, age, year in school, position, etc."

"Yeah of course," he says with a smile, "Name: Jung Hoseok. Age: Twenty-two. Senior, and I'm an attacking midfielder."

"Oh, but I've heard that your position is flexible and you can easily shift between striker and defender in the same game," you say, miraculously spouting off knowledge you've read from Somin's notes just minutes ago.

"Wow, you knew that?" Hoseok asks, clearly impressed, "No one except like really die-hard soccer fans know that."

You rub the back of your neck, embarrassed, "Ah, wasn't it obvious?" you bluff through your teeth, "You're a very well-rounded player, Hoseok. No wonder you're captain."

His subsequent smile is as bright as the sun, "Thank you. That really means a lot to me."

Flustered, you anxiously fidget with your hair, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious as you scramble for the next question, "S-so, the team's ten-game winning streak is all under your leadership. Can you tell us a bit about how you managed to accomplish that?"

"No, it wasn't all me," he says, but can't help but laugh at the flattery, "It was a whole team effort! We would be nowhere without Coach Bang's guidance. And we have some really outstanding players this year. For instance, there's Jeon Jungkook, who's scored the most goals not only in our team, but the entire district this season."

"Ah, I see," you mutter under your breath, "No wonder he's so damn cocky."

"Huh? What was that?"

"Nothing!" you exclaim, eyes widening as you realize your mistake. Oh well, you can always crop that out of the recording. "Anyways, can you tell me more about your goals moving forward this season?"

"Yes, of course. So as you know, we're playing our rivals in the district this Saturday. It's going to be a big match. But no matter how we play on Saturday, we will be able to advance to the finals, so it's really not—oh," Hoseok suddenly stops, mid-sentence, to blink up at the sky when a raindrop hits him in the face.

Soon, more follow the first, covering the metal of the bleachers with a sheen of cold water. "Oh no, my notes!" you exclaim, diving forward to protect your things under the cover of your sweater.

"Damn, the forecast didn't say that it'd rain today," Hoseok says, looking up at the dreary gray sky with concern.

"Ah, it's not a big deal though," you say, "It's only sprinkling, and I think we can continue."

"But your sweater doesn't have a hood," Hoseok says in concern, "You're getting rained on."

"It's fine," you say as you wipe moisture from your eyelashes, "I'm sure it'll stop raining soon."

"But what about your hair? Or your makeup?" he continues to pressure, "Aren't you worried it'll be ruined?"

"My makeup?" you snort, "Who the hell wears makeup the Monday before midterms start?!"

"I… oh," Hoseok says, taken aback by your bluntness, "Um… I don't know?"

Your face flushes with heat when you realize your mistake… that has been caught on tape, "Um… anyways," you gulp, trying to ignore the way he threads his fingers through his wet hair, making rainwater trail alluring down his sinewy neck, "Why don't we go back to the topic of the finals? What do you think—?"

"Hey, Hoseok!" a loud voice calls out, interrupting your interview.

The two of you look up from the bleachers to find the entire team trickling off the field. The source of the voice comes from Jungkook, who stands on the track in front of you, looking superbly displeased, "Coach is moving practice to the gym. Let's go, Hobi."

"Ah, can you give me a few more minutes?" Hoseok asks, glancing over at you.

"No," Jungkook bluntly replies as he crosses his arms over his chest, "Shouldn't you set an example as the captain?"

That sobers him up quickly. "Ok, I'm coming," the older man says as he gets to his feet and hops off the bleachers, "Sorry, ___. Maybe we can reschedule our interview for a different date?"

"Yeah," you say, trying not to sound as disheartened as you feel. "What time works best for you?"

"This week's a bit difficult for me because of the game. What about next week? Does Sunday—?"

"Alright, alright, stop it," Jungkook irritably butts in, "Let's go to practice."

"Wait, ___. Can I get your phone number or something?" Hoseok asks, even as his teammate starts dragging him away by the arm.

"Yes, it's—"

"I'll give it to you later," Jungkook snaps as he continues to drag the redhead across the field, "Bye, ___."

"Wait, Jungkook!" You call after him, but it's too late and they've disappeared off the field. You plop back down on the bleachers with a deep sigh, wondering what you can do with the now useless recording, when Taehyung emerges with a giant striped umbrella.

"Hey," he says as he walks over to share his umbrella, "You finished your flirting already?"

"Flirting?" you repeat as you wring out your wet hair, "What flirting?"

"With that really hot redheaded guy," he explains, "It looked like you were about to eat him up."

"What?" You exclaim, blood rushing to your face at once, "What the hell are you talking about?!"

Taehyung gives you a pointed look, "Oh come on, ___. Don't even try to deny it. It looked like you were two seconds away from mounting him in front of everyone."

You groan deeply in embarrassment and bury your face in your hands, "Oh god… Was I that obvious?"

"Yup," he chirps, gleeful in the face of your distress, "But don't worry. It seems like he reciprocated."

"Wait…" you slowly peek up from your hands, "What?"

"Yeah. Did you really not notice how badly he wanted to stay at the end? Or how hard he was trying to get your number? For some weird reason, that guy's got the hots for you."

"Oh," you simply say in response as you pat your warm cheeks, "I… I'm surprised…"

"Me too… How do you even get all these hot guys fawning over you?" Taehyung whines, "It's not fair."

"I… I don't know… I just… Wait—did you just say 'hot guys' as in plural?"

"Yeah, Jungkook was crazy jealous!"

Your immediate reaction is disbelief, "No way. Stop bullshitting me, Tae."

"No, I'm serious. I kept trying to take natural shots of the members, but Jungkook ruined all of them. He kept looking up and glaring in your direction, and that really killed the mood of the photos."

"Oh my god, stop lying."

"No really! Do you want to see the pictures?"

"No, I'm fine. Let's just go home, okay?" You quickly say, embarrassed by the very idea.

"Okay… But I just want to let you know that this is totally unfair! Why do you get to be the protagonist in a stereotypical love triangle drama? Look at your damn hair in the rain! Meanwhile, I wore my favorite gucci jacket today and nothing! So unfair!"

You lightly smack the back of his head to stop his whining, "Shut up. None of them like me. Just keep wearing your gucci, dummy."

"Wow, how nice of you to actually answer your phone for once," you grumble when Jungkook finally picks up after your third call.

"Sorry, I was in practice," he says with a little groan.

You pause, concern outweighing your anger, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. The physical therapist was a just a bit too harsh on my back earlier today… I should really get a massage. But I'm too lazy," he sighs.

"Oh… Do you want me to come over? I can give you a massage instead," you offer.

"Wait, would you really do that for me?" Jungkook asks in astonishment, "It's kinda late."

"Yeah, of course," you say, "I really don't mind and I'm pretty good with my hands."

"That you are," he says, and you don't have to see him to know that he has a lascivious smirk on that stupid face of his.

You laugh, "How are you such a pervert?"

"It's been over two weeks since we last had sex!" He angrily points out, "I'm dying here!"

"Don't you have a big game coming up?" you point out, "You should be focusing on that instead."

He grumbles under his breath for a few seconds before agreeing, "Fine… I'll let you off the hook this time… But once the game is over, I want to fuck you."

"Yeah, okay," you easily agree.

"And not just once," he quickly adds, taking advantage of your strange compliance, "I'm always horny again after like fifteen minutes. One time isn't enough. For once in my life, I actually want to get my fill. I want to fuck you until my dick falls off."

"Of course," you chuckle, "Once you win that game, you can do whatever you want to me."

"Really?" he asks, suspicious, "Can I be in charge this time?"

"Anything you want, baby," you say with a giggle.

"What if I want to tie you up and have you call me 'daddy'?" he questions.

"Oh, Jungkook!" you exclaim, bursting into girlish laughter, "You are so bad. Hehe, of course you can, baby."

"Oh god, what's gotten into you?" Jungkook marvels at the other end, "On second thought, maybe not… This is kind of scary coming from you."

You throw your head back and laugh again, "You know me too well. You're so sweet."

"Are we not speaking the same language right now?!" Jungkook barks into the receiver, "Are you fucking high?"

"Aw, you too," you chuckle, "I'll be over in ten, babe. I miss you."

"Huh? What the fuck—?"

You hang up before he can finish his sentence and spin around in your chair to face Mijoo and Jimin with an award-winning smile, "Ah, guys, I would love to stay here and chat, but Jungkook needs me."

"I see," Jimin says with a suggestive arch of his brows, "He 'needs' you? What a cute euphemism."

"Are you sure you don't want to hang out with us instead?" Mijoo asks, concerned.

You shake your head as you sling your backpack over your shoulder, "Nah. You guys have fun on your own. Because Jungkook and I definitely will," you say with a wink.

"Can you guys at least put a sock on the doorknob so I don't walk into something that'll scar me for life tonight?" Jimin requests with a wry smile.

"Maybe you shouldn't come home at all," you airily inform him before marching out the door, "Don't wait up, Mijoo!"

As soon as you walk out of the sorority house and into the bleak cold of the night, a moment of emptiness seizes you. It feels like your heart has been seized by a skeletal hand, threatening to crush it to a pulp.

You stand there for a moment, deeply inhaling the frigid wintry air through your nose. A few seconds pass before the feeling finally dissipates. But even though the grip around your heart is gone, you still feel the heavy organ sink to your feet with every step forward.

But still… At least it's getting easier.

"Have you been possessed by the fucking devil?" Jungkook asks as a greeting when you arrive at the frat a few minutes later.

"Nice to see you too, asshole," you say as you irritably brush past him in the hallway.

"Ah, that's more like it," Jungkook says with a sigh of relief, "Thank god. I thought I was going to have to perform an exorcism."

"Why are you like this?" you snort as you follow him up the stairs, "Wouldn't you prefer me to be all soft and compliant for you?"

"No, not at all," he says at once, "That's just weird."

"Well, you call me weird all the time," you point out, "What makes this any different?"

"It just is," he insists as he leads you up to his bedroom and closes the door behind him, "I don't like it. It gives me the creeps."

"I think you're the weird one," you laugh as you toss your bag on his desk, "Most guys would love it if I lost the Ice Queen demeanor."

"Nah, that's just creepy," he says, "Why were you acting like that, by the way?"

"Jimin was over," you explain as you throw yourself on his bed with a sigh.

"Ah. That makes more sense," he says as he sits down next to you, "It's better than what I thought."

"What did you think?"

"Besides temporary demonic possession? That you might be in a rough spot with some overly handsy dude or something."

You scoff at that, "Yeah right. Do I look like I'd have any issue setting some yogurt slinger in his place?"

He grins, "Ah that's right. I'm forgetting who I'm dealing with here."

"Just worry about yourself, Jeon. I can handle any limp noodle dick."

"Speaking of limp noodle dicks… That damn Jung Hoseok keeps asking for your number. Can I tell him to go fuck himself?"

"Wait, what?! No!"

"Why? Do you want to go curse him out yourself?"

"No! What's wrong with you? Jungkook, I need to finish interviewing him!"

"Why?" He asks with a look of annoyance, "I'm right here, so why settle for less?"

"Hon, he's the team captain. Of course I would need an interview from him! Just give me his number already, goddamn it," you say as you make a grab for the phone in his lap.

But he immediately moves it out of the way with his quicker reflexes, "No way. I don't want you talking to that creep."

"Why not?" you whine as you scramble forward to reach for his phone. But he easily keeps you at bay with his longer arm reach, "I really need to talk to him!"

"Hoseok might look all cute with that innocent smile of his, but I can promise you that he's the biggest fuckboy of them all."

"So what?" You demand as you attempt to climb up his body for the phone, "It's not like I'm going to fuck him or anything! I just want to finish the interview."

"Maybe your intentions are pure, but let me assure you that his are anything but. Did you even notice the way he was looking at you?"

"Maybe I wanted him to look at me that way!" you shoot back as you practically tackle him to the bed for his phone.

"Ouch," Jungkook hisses in pain when this accidentally places pressure on his sore back.

You stiffen with horror and immediately flinch back, "Oh my god. I'm so sorry, Jungkook, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he says, wincing as he reaches back to rub at the pulled muscles, "I think I just need some ibuprofen and a good night's rest, and I'll be fine in the morning."

Your mouth tightens in sympathy, "What about the physical therapist? Can they fix your back?"

"She's not back in the office until the morning," he explains, "But don't worry. It's fine."

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, watching the way he gingerly rubs the kinks from his neck before you make up your mind, "Roll over on your stomach."

"Wait… Are you serious?" He asks, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"I'm no professional… And you should really see your PT in the morning… But I've taken a massage class in the past and I won't be able to fix your back, but I'll be able to make you feel better."

"Oh god, you're the best," he says, instantly flopping over on the mattress.

You laugh at his excitement and sit up on your knees for better access. You rub your hands up and down the wide expanse of his back a few times before you realize how awkward it is through the fabric of his hoodie, "Do you mind taking this off?"

As quick as a flash, his hoodie is on the ground, along with the t-shirt underneath. You blink at the sight of his bare back laid out for you across the bed, "Not what I meant, but I guess this is okay, too" you laugh as you lay your hands on his hot skin.

Jungkook hums in response, "This might be the only chance I get to have you touch me. Gotta make all I can out of it."

"I touch you all the time, you needy little brat," you mumble before getting distracted by his physique, "Damn," you curse softly as you begin working at the knots in his broad shoulders, "Were you always this buff?" you ask as you watch his thick muscles ripple every time he adjusts on the bed.

He chuckles at the compliment, "Are you seriously only noticing this now?"

"Yeah," you say as you silently marvel at how solid his muscles feel under the palm of your hand. It feels like you're touching solid metal instead of flesh. But his warm, velvety-soft skin stretched over the steel makes the experience strangely enjoyable.

"What? But you've seen me naked so many times now!" he complains.

"Only once," you remind him, "And we were both pretty drunk that night."

"Wait, seriously? Fuck, we need to change that."

"Yeah, okay," you agree, "After we turn in the first part of this project, of course."

"Oh shit, when's that due again?"

"Friday," you remind him, "Don't tell me you've forgotten…"

"Sorry, I've just been distracted by this game on Saturday," he sighs, "But don't worry, I'll turn it in by the deadline."

"Hmm. Since we're here anyways, should we just work on it together?"

"Um…" Jungkook hesitates, clearly unwilling to leave the pleasure of your hands, "I mean… I guess… If you think it's really important…"

"You don't want me to stop, do you?" you ask in amusement.

"Fuck no," he blurts out immediately, "This feels incredible."

The breathy, raspy quality of his voice makes heat flood the pit of your stomach. You lick your lips as you slide your hands down to his lower back and press down on the tense muscles there, "Alright," you agree, "Just this one time… Damn, you're really tense, Jungkook. How rough have your practices been?"

"The worst," he moans softly into his pillow when you work out an especially tight knot along the base of his spine, "Coach is out to kill us."

"These feel more like stress knots though," you comment as you continue to unravel him, inch by inch, "Have you been under a lot of pressure recently?" Then you stop and snap your jaw shut. You regret your question as soon as you ask it. The two of you are definitely not on that level to talk about such personal topics, nor do you think you'll ever be on that level.

It's quiet for a moment as you wait for him to brush you off with the stoic masculinity you're used to. Instead, he turns his face to the side and murmurs, "A little bit," in a small voice that takes you completely by surprise.

"O-oh," you try to hide your surprise by rubbing firm circles into his thick shoulder blades, "It's understandable… There must be a lot of pressure since you've been on such a winning streak, huh?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," he sighs, "And also… I've heard that there might be recruiters at the game on Saturday… I really have to play my best."

"Ah, isn't it still early?" you ask, trying to soothe him, "We still have another full year of school."

"Yeah, but Hoseok was recruited as a junior," he points out, "In fact, he was recruited in the beginning of his fall semester, so he was younger than I am now… And I can't deny that I'm beginning to grow antsy."

"Don't worry, Jungkook," you say as you continue to loosen his stiff muscles, "You are such a great player, and your hard work will pay off."

You can see the way his mouth curves into a smile from the side of his face pressed into the pillow, "Thanks."

There's a moment of amicable silence as you both enjoy the warmth of each other's presence. Then, Jungkook suddenly bolts upright, nearly dislodging you from the bed.

"Hey, wait a minute—isn't this coming from the girl who didn't even know I played soccer a week ago?!"

"Shh," you gently press his face back down into the pillows, "Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

Three days later, you meet up with Yerin for your weekly lunch dates. You'd normally have lunch with her on Sundays, but due to unforeseen circumstances (i.e., lying around deathly hungover in Jungkook's bed), you had to reschedule for today.

"Wait, I forgot to ask, but nothing happened when you were trying to get back home on Saturday night, right?"

"Nope, I was perfectly safe. Don't worry, ___."

"Of course I worry. Mijoo shouldn't have called you out so late at night… especially not to a damn frat party… What was she thinking?"

"___, you know that I'm a legal adult now, right? I go to frat parties all the time."

"What?!" You exclaim in shock, "With who?!"

"The girls on my floor go all the time," she informs you, "It's really not a big deal."

"Seriously?! Why don't you ever invite me?"

"Invite you?" she repeats in confusion, "But you hate frat parties."

"I do, but who else will protect you from nasty frat bros?"

"Who said I wanted to be protected from them?" She says with a playful quirk of her brow.

Your jaw drops, "Watch it, kid. I almost bent you over my knee."

"I'm not your baby anymore," she whines, "Stop it, ___."

"You'll always be my baby," you inform her in a serious tone, "Which is why I can't have you running into dangerous frat parties like that!"

"It was fine," She assures you, "I was with Mijoo the entire time, and at the end of the night, those boys from BTS showed up as well," she said, face flushing at the memory, "You were like the protagonist in a romantic drama, ___, the way three men rushed over at your beck and call to rescue you. I was so jealous," she sighs dreamily.

You look at her in utter bewilderment, "Yerin… you do realize that I was a belligerent drunk rolling around in a hotdog costume? And that Mijoo only called over the BTS boys to keep me from getting arrested. How the hell is this in any way romantic?!"

"Jungkook carried you in his arms like you were newlyweds," she sighs again, "It was so lovely… Wait, ___. Tell me, did he ravish you in his room?" she asks, wide eyes sparkling with excitement.

"What the fuck? Yerin, what's wrong with you?"

"Oh come on, just indulge this poor virgin," she begs you, "Did he throw you to the bed and rip off your clothes because he couldn't wait to have his way with you?"

"How the fuck would he be able to rip my hotdog suit?!" you exclaim, "That thing was like fifty pillows piled on top of me. And besides, it wasn't cheap! I would be so pissed if he ripped it!"

Yerin's face falls, "___, you're ruining the fantasy!"

You snort, "Sweetie, I have no idea what wild, idealized notion of sex you have in your mind, but it's really not like that. It's usually just messy and gross."

"Maybe with the wrong men," the younger woman argues, "But Jungkook is ridiculously hot. No matter how messy it got with him, there's no way it'd be gross."

You have to begrudgingly agree with that. Against your will, you're resentfully attracted to the fuckboy. "But it's not always rainbows and butterflies!" you argue, "In fact, it's never like that. It's just… merp. Just a relief of a basic need. Like scratching an itch. Or letting out a nice fart."

Yerin's face scrunches at your disgusting analogy, "___! Ew!"

Clearly you're a bit too much for her delicate sensitivities, "Sorry, Yerin," you automatically apologize, "That was a lie… Farts are better than sex."

"Even sex with Jeon Jungkook?" She asks in disbelief.

You pause a moment to think about that, "He's like a particularly juicy fart," you acquiesce, "You know, like the ones you've been holding in all day, and you finally take off your pants at the end of the night and just let it rip? Yup. That's sex with Jungkook... But still just a fart. Nothing more."

Yerin buries her face in her hands in anguish, "You're completely ruining this for me!"

"Good," you retort, "I'd rather you wake up to the harsh realities of intercourse now rather than later!"

"God, ___," Yerin groans into her hands, "We're in public."

"Are you embarrassed?" You ask. When she nods, you snap, "Good. You'd be more embarrassed if you were pregnant with a fuckboy's kid! Men are less than farts, never forget! I would rather cut the cheese any day instead of letting a nasty snot-nosed fuckboy put his moldy little carrot stick anywhere near my— Oh, hello, Yoongi," you break off to greet the silver-haired man who suddenly appears over Yerin's shoulder.

The blonde whips her head around in astonishment. Then her face strickens with anguish as she recognizes the older man standing behind her, "Oh… oh… shit."

Yoongi has clearly caught the tail end of your rant by the way his face scrunches in disgust, "Ah, I'm suddenly reminded of why we're only business acquaintances, ___."

"You're saying we're not friends?" you ask weakly.

"And hear you talk about bodily functions in my free time as well? No thanks."

"That's not all I talk about!"

"Yeah, that's right. You cursing me out on Saturday night was a nice change of scene," Yoongi says in a sarcastic tone.

"I was drunk and out of my mind!" You exclaim, "You can't possibly hold that against me!"

"___, you nearly threw out my back," he reminds you in a dry voice, "I had to lie in a tub of ice for a full hour afterwards… How is anyone so annoying and destructive when drunk? Goddamn it, woman…"

You flush with embarrassment, "If you just came here to berate me, then you can just keep walking!" you exclaim, "No one asked for your help!"

"Pssht, without me, you would've been arrested that night," he informs you, indignant at your lack of gratitude, "And besides, what makes you think that I'm here to talk to you, you self-centered brat?"

"What? If you're not here for me, then—"

"Yerin, I wanted to thank you again for coffee the other day," Yoongi says, interrupting you, "That was really kind of you."

Yerin's face turns a rosy shade of pink when he smiles directly at her, "O-oh," she mumbles, ducking her head as though to try to hide under her bangs, "It really wasn't a big deal… Thank you again for walking me home, Yoongi."

"Wait, he did what?!" you exclaim in horror.

Both of them ignore you, "If you're free this weekend, maybe we can grab a bite to eat?"

"Oh," Yerin's eyes light up like it's Christmas, "I would love that."

"What? No, you wouldn't!"

"Okay," Yoongi ignores you, "I'll text you then?"

"You gave this fucker your phone number?!" you screech.

As always, they politely pretend that you don't exist, "Yes, that sounds great!" Yerin happily tells him.

"Great, see you later then," he says, cheerfully waving at her before walking off.

"No, you won't see her later," you spin around in your chair to bark after him, "You won't ever be seeing her again!"

But he simply flips you off from behind his back before sauntering out of the café. You glare at him until he's out of sight, then whirl back around to face Yerin, "What the hell was that?"

She blinks innocently at you, "What do you mean, ___?"

"Are you dating him?!" you bark at her.

"No, we're friends… just like you and Jungkook, right?" she coyly informs you.

Your vision flashes red for a moment from the implication of her words, "Don't you fucking dare do this to me," you whisper in a low voice.

She giggles at your reaction and reaches across the table to squeeze your hand, "Why are you so freaked out by the idea of us dating?"

"I just don't like it," you say with a stubborn jut of your chin, "He's old and weird."

"He's only a year older than you," she kindly reminds you.

"So?" you snap back, "I'm old and weird too! Min Yoongi might seem like an okay guy on the surface, but I know for a fact that he's a weird pervert! I don't approve of all!"

"I think you're just unreasonably overprotective, ___." Yerin says in amusement, "What kind of guy would you actually approve of?"

You take a moment to think about it before the answer comes rushing to your mind, "Park Jimin," you say in a quiet voice, "I would approve of a man like Park Jimin…"

"Ah, is that why you're all over my ass and not Mijoo's?" Yerin laughs, missing the significance of the confession, "Well, not every man can be Park Jimin, ___."

Your gaze drops to your lap, "Yeah, I know," you whisper, "I know…"

Later that day, when you walk Yerin back to the dorms, she springs you with an unexpected question.

"Hey, ___, do you have any free time tonight?"

"Hmm? Yeah, I do. What's up?"

"Do you mind looking over my powerpoint for tomorrow? I'm not sure if all of my citations make sense."

"Sure," you instantly agree, "But I'm not sure if I can be of much help. What class is this for?"

Yerin stops in the middle of the street to stare at you with wide eyes, "___, please tell me you haven't forgotten about our creative writing presentations tomorrow morning."

It feels like the world has caved in around you, and for a moment you can't breathe. You slowly whirl around to face her, "Oh….. oh….. fuck my life," you croak out in a tiny voice.

"Oh no… Please tell me that you've at least started on the project!" She exclaims.

Your heart drops to your stomach and your throat closes up, "I… I…"

"Aren't you working on this with Jungkook?" She continues to scold you, "How could both of you be so forgetful?"

"I don't know!" You finally cry out, "Shit!" And with that, you turn on your heel and break into a sprint.

"___!" She yells after you, "Where are you going?!"

"I don't know!" you yell over your shoulder, even as you continue to run down the street like a mad woman, "Fuck!"

You call Jungkook twice on your frantic trip home, but the calls go to voicemail. It's a Thursday afternoon, and you imagine that he must be at practice, since the big game is coming up in just two days, but you can't help but feel anxious. How could you have forgotten and put off this presentation until literally the day before it's due? It is unlike you to be so careless.

You nearly bodyslam some sisters out of the way when they take too long to move, and rush up the stairs of the sorority, taking two steps at a time. As soon as you enter your room, you throw yourself at your desk and anxiously boot up your laptop. You have no idea why Jungkook isn't picking up his phone, but you trust him to turn in his part for tomorrow morning. There's no way he could be as forgetful as you… right?

You stumble into class the next morning with a venti container of pure espresso in hand, sunglasses on your face to hide your bloodshot eyes.

"Oh god, what happened to you?" Yerin exclaims in alarm when you remove your glasses to reveal your swollen face.

"Sorry I can't be beautiful all the time," you quip as you stifle a yawn with the back of your hand, "I pulled an all-nighter trying to get this presentation together."

"Oh," Yerin's face furrows in sympathy, "Did Jungkook help you out at the end?"

"No," you groan, "I wasn't able to reach him all night… that bitch better have the greatest presentation of all time planned for today."

"Ah, you completed your parts separately?" Yerin asks, "Aren't you afraid that it will be disorganized?"

You shake your head, "Nah. I texted him very explicitly what he needed to finish. So it should be fine."

"Okay, but class is starting soon… Where is he?"

"He's always late," you attempt to defend him, "It's fine." But even as you speak, the tendrils of worry curl in your stomach. You anxiously glance at your phone, but before you can send him a text, Professor Cha steps to the front of the classroom and claps her hands to capture your attention.

"Ok, everyone. Let's get started with the presentations. Do I have any volunteers to go first?"

Embarrassed, you slowly slide down in your seat, trying to make yourself appear as small as possible as you nervously wait for Jungkook's arrival.

Except he never shows.

Your anxiety is at an all-time high when the groups finish their presentations one by one in the front of the classroom. You can't help but glance at the door every few seconds, hoping against reason that the dark-haired athlete will miraculously materialize in the room.

When the last group finishes their presentation, you're practically trembling with nerves. You slowly make your way to the front of the classroom, feeling on the verge of vomiting, and not even Yerin's quiet encouragement helps.

"Miss ___, where is your partner?" Professor Cha asks in surprise when she finds you standing alone next to the screen.

"Um… He's just a bit late," you mumble, uncharacteristically shy before the dozens of eyes trained on your figure, "I'm sure he'll show up though…"

"Miss ___, you do realize that this is a group grade, right?" She asks with a quirk of an eyebrow, "If your partner doesn't show, then both of you lose points on the presentation."

You gulp, "Y-yes. I am aware of that…"

The older woman nods, "Alright… Well, whenever you're ready, please proceed."

You take a moment to inhale through your nose, deeply unnerved by the full classroom of people scrutinizing your every move. You can feel the sweat beading at your forehead, but it'd be too embarrassing to wipe it in front of everyone, so you let it stay there as you fumble with connecting your laptop to the projector, "H-hi, everyone," you stammer, "My name is ___, and this is my presentation on Chang Eileen… Um, my partner, Jungkook, is running a bit late, but he should be here soon."

Forty pairs of impassive eyes stare back at you, so you quickly hasten to change the slide, "Anyways, let me start off with some background information on Miss Chang…"

As the minutes slip by, you grow more and more stressed. You try to focus on this presentation that you've spent so much time on, but you can't concentrate on anything other than the fact that you're alone onstage while the whole class judges you. Where is Jungkook? How could he do this to you? When he knew how important this was to you?

Your heart has permanently sunken to the pit of your stomach when you come to the last of your prepared slides. Your pulse is thundering and for a minute, it's hard to even breathe. As though expecting a miracle, you glance at the door one last time, praying that Jungkook will breeze right in with his easy-going smile. But you're not that lucky. You pause as you stare into the judgmental faces of your classmates. Then you resign yourself to your hopeless fate.

"A-and, um… That's it. Thank you."

There's a confused smattering of applause, nothing as exuberant as the what the other groups had received.

"Ah, Miss ___, you didn't address any of your author's contemporary works. Did you forget that half of the presentation was supposed to include a comprehensive literature review?" the professor asks.

You can only stare at your feet in shame, "Yes… I'm sorry, professor."

She simply clicks her tongue in blatant disapproval, "I see… You may sit down."

You lower your head as far as you possibly can as you drop back into your seat. But the embarrassment never leaves you.

"I'm fucked," you croak at Yerin.

She sympathetically rubs your back. But not even your closest friend can bear to lie to you.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," you growl as you make your way with Taehyung to the stadium for the big game the following morning, "I can't believe I have to go to this stupid fucking game when he couldn't even show up to a presentation worth twenty-five percent of our grade!"

Taehyung sympathetically squeezes your shoulder, "Have you spoken to him yet?" he asks as he hands the attendee the tickets.

"No. That bastard won't pick up his damn phone because he's a cowardly fool!"

"Or maybe it's because he had a game to worry about?" Taehyung wryly offers.

"No, I don't think that's it," you growl.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asks as you march right past him, "There are two seats right here."

"My friend's saving us seats near the bottom… Which is great, because I want to stare that bastard in the eye and make him feel guilty about even being born."

"This is a totally healthy method of communication," Taehyung sarcastically says, "You guys totally aren't in need of some major couple's counseling…"

"We're not a couple!" You bellow at him, attracting the attention of everyone around you. "Why does everyone think that?! We're not even friends, for god's sake!"

"Oh, ___!" A sweet voice calls out, interrupting your rant, "There you are!"

You turn your head to the side to find a pretty blonde girl waving at you a few rows down, "Ah, Yerin!" You happily wave back, "You saved us seats?"

"Yeah," she calls back, "Come down here!"

"Okay!" You sing as you cheerfully skip down the aisle to meet her, "Thanks for saving us seats, honey," you say as you swing your arms around her for a tight hug, "You must've gotten here so early to get such great seats."

"It wasn't that early," she says in embarrassment, "Besides, I knew how sleep-deprived you were, so you really needed to sleep in."

Your heart melts at her thoughtful action, "Aww, my sweet baby," you coo as you squish her to your chest, content to plant little kisses all over her cute face until the end of time.

Until Taehyung awkwardly interrupts with a little cough, "Um, hello, I'm Taehyung."

Yerin immediately reaches over to accept his offered hand, "Hi, my name is Yerin. It's nice to meet you."

Taehyung doesn't respond for a moment, uncharacteristically flustered. You frown at the way his gaze drops to his lap and he moistens his lips with his tongue. You're about to call him out for it, when Yerin suddenly gets to her feet.

"Oh, the game is starting soon. I'm going to run to the restroom real fast. Can you save my seat?"

"Of course, sweetheart," you coo, already covering her seat with your bag. You smile fondly after her retreating figure when Taehyung suddenly grabs you by the shoulder.

"___," he hisses at you in a low tone, "Why didn't you tell me that we were meeting up with your friend?"

"Huh? I mentioned it several times, actually!"

"Ok, maybe, but you didn't say that she was this cute!"

"Wait, what happened with Hoseok?" you ask in amusement.

"He's hot, I'll give him that," Taehyung begrudgingly admits, "But even I can acknowledge a lost cause when I see one."

"What do you mean by that?" you frown.

Taehyung shoots you a wry look, "Come on, we both saw the way he was looking at you," he says, "It's obvious that he'll never look at me that way, so why bother trying? It's pointless to chase after someone who will never reciprocate."

It feels like an unpleasant weight has dropped to the pit of your stomach as you process his words. You swallow tightly and break eye contact, "Yeah, you're right," you gruffly say, "So now it's Yerin?"

"Yes, she's so pretty and sweet, I thought my heart would burst!" he dramatically exclaims, "And if you would've just let me know in advance, like a good friend, I could've worn my gucci!"

"Wait, who said we were friends?" you deadpan.

He ignores you, "Why couldn't you have been a bud and told me to wear my new gucci loafers?!"

"Because they're ugly as hell," you inform him, "And besides, why do you care? Do you wanna date my baby or something?"

He cowers under your sudden death glare, perfectly aware of how overprotective you are of your girlfriends. Namjoon made the mistake of asking you for Mijoo's number last semester and you nearly roasted him alive. "Um… maybe…? I mean… no? I don't know!"

"Okay."

"I didn't mean it like that!" Taehyung cries out in fear, before your response finally settles in, "Wait… what did you say?"

You shrug, "If you want her number or something, I'll give it to you later… With her permission, of course."

Taehyung warily peeks at you through his fingers, "Wait… are you really offering to help set us up? Me with your precious baby?"

"Well, this isn't the damn feudal era. It's not like I can sell her for three cows… Although that would be nice…"

"You know what I meant!" He exclaims, "You'd be okay with it?"

You simply shrug again, "Yeah, why not? You're a pretty okay guy."

"Wow, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!" he exclaims in genuine delight.

You smile at his reaction, "It's true though. You're not as bad as the rest of them. I can trust you to treat my dearest Yerin well."

Taehyung cocks his head to the side in confusion over your cryptic words, but before he can question you, Yerin comes bouncing back, "Ooh guys, look! The game is just about to start!" she says, excitedly gesturing towards the field.

At that, your face hardens, "Look at that stupid smug dumbass brat," you mutter darkly under your breath as Jungkook walks out on the field with his teammates, "Coconut bitch."

Yerin glances over at you in concern, "Are you alright?"

You simply grunt as you dig out a notepad and a pen from your bag, "Yup. Just peachy…"

"Haha. Look at that clumsy fool," you snicker as Jungkook has the ball stolen from him for the umpteenth time.

Both Yerin and Taehyung look at you in surprise, "Why are you being so mean?"

"Yeah, whose side are you on anyways?" Taehyung adds, indignant.

"Oh please," you say with a roll of your eyes, "This big baby can handle a bit of my teasing. He's doing so well already. So whatever."

Yerin frowns in confusion, "___, what are you talking about? He's made so many mistakes today."

"Yeah, look at him," Taehyung says, pointing down at where Jungkook is streaking across the field, ball in possession, "He's really fucking up bad today."

"No way, he's by far the fastest. See, look at him run!"

Both of them turn to look at you at the same time, "Do you even know the rules of soccer?" Yerin murmurs in disbelief.

"___, he's been off-sides like six times now," Taehyung adds.

"What, is that like a bad thing?"

"…Why are you the sports reporter again?"

"Wait… so he's not supposed to run like that?"

Taehyung narrowly resists the urge to smack himself in the forehead, "No! He can't pass the last defender on the other team, or the ball goes back to the opponents. And he's missed most of Hoseok's passes… This is really bad."

"Oh shit…" you curse under your breath, brow furrowing as you finally realize the severity of the situation, "And this is such an important game… There are recruiters attending…"

"Wait, what?"

"Nothing!" you quickly say, turning your attention back to the game. Now that you're aware of the rules, you can confirm that Jungkook really isn't playing his best… And even from your distance up in the stands, you notice his frustration in the stiffness and the hard line of his jaw. You glance back at the scoreboard and your chest tightens when you realize that they're down by one goal… Jungkook and his team can still catch up, and he can still impress the recruiters, right?

Stressed beyond belief, you gnaw your bottom lip and sit straighter in your seat as you anxiously focus in on the game.

Half an hour later and the two teams are finally tied. Unfortunately, it's no thanks to Jungkook. He misses both of his shots to the goal, and not a single one of them are anywhere close. Luckily, Hoseok steals away the ball at around the 75-minute mark and manages to impressively dribble the ball all the way from midfield into the goal, sliding past nearly four different defenders. It ties the game, and then they advance to the free kick.

The tension is at an all-time high in the stadium. As unfamiliar with the game as you are, you find yourself biting your nails as you anxiously watch the action below. Losing a coin flip, the opposing team begins first. And the whole arena erupts into mutual groans of disappointment when the first kicker easily makes it past the goalie.

Then, it's your team's turn. Hoseok, as the team captain, starts off as the first of the five players from his team for the free kick. The talented redhead stops in front of the goal, carefully planting the ball in place before appraising the other team's goalie. There's a moment of silence as he knits his brow in concentration. Then, quicker than the eye can perceive, he suddenly jumps into action. The ball is neatly at the back of the net by the time anyone notices what happened.

As though of one mind, the entire stadium bursts into cheers. But you can't bring yourself to feel at ease until the next two opponent's players miss and your team scores again. The score is now 2-1 and you slump a little in relief, smiling at Yerin as she turns to reassuringly squeeze your shoulder. You force the negative thoughts out of your mind as you watch the remainder of the free kicks with a lightened heart… Until the next two players on your team miss… and the opposing team makes the last shot…

You're now trailing 2-3. Your team has to make another goal just to tie with the opposing team and enter the sudden death round. The arena seems to quiet with apprehension and everyone around you in the crowd begins to murmur prayers under their breath. You're right there with them, chest tight and sweat beading at your forehead as you clasp your hands together tightly and pray for a miracle.

It seems as though your prayers are answered for at that moment, your salvation arrives in the form of Jeon Jungkook strolling across the field as the last kicker. It feels as though the entire stadium heaves a sigh of relief. This is everyone's beloved idol—the highest scorer in the entire district and the superstar leading the school to victory for the first time in decades. As long as you have Jungkook, you're fine. You're all in good hands.

You exhale deeply as you lean back in your seat, consciously unclenched your balled-up fists. Everything is going to be fine.

Everyone is visibly relaxed as Jungkook sets up the ball in front of the goalie and carefully takes three long strides back. He might not have been playing his best this game, but this is Jeon Jungkook. He can't do any wrong.

Jungkook visibly sucks a deep breath through his teeth down on the field, then lightly jogs the one, two, three steps to the ball. His foot meets the ball in a loud punch that echoes throughout the eerily silent stadium…

Followed by a metallic clink as the ball promptly smashes against the post, flying far away from the goal. There's a moment of hushed disbelief in the stadium. Then, the opposing team promptly bursts into rowdy cheers. You watch in stunned silence as the boys happily hoist each other up and rip off their shirts in celebration.

Then your eyes dart back down to where the players on your school's team half-heartedly pat each other on the back and congratulate the winning team. You turn to Yerin and Taehyung with wide eyes.

"What the hell just happened?"

"Hey guys, let's go to the back and talk to the team," Taehyung suggests when the three of you finally recover from the shock to begin trickling out of the arena.

"Isn't that a bit weird?" You say, balking at the very thought.

"No, that sounds like a great idea!" Yerin pipes up, eyes shining at the idea of meeting all those athletes, "___, can we please go?"

"Ah, I don't know. Shouldn't we give them a bit of space?" you hesitate.

"I think it'll be good for us to give them a bit of support after that upset," Taehyung argues, "Don't you think it'll be a nice thing to do?"

"Yeah, please ___?" Yerin is practically whining at this point, "We really should go! You can even curse out Jungkook or whatever you want there."

You purse your lips into a thin line, but can't help but begrudgingly agree, "Fine," you grit out, "Let's just get this over with."

Moments later, the three of you stream down the hall where the home team exited the field from. Your stomach flips at the sight of Jungkook leaning against the wall, talking to a few girls who you recognize from your sorority.

Yerin notices you hesitating in the hallway and slips her arm into yours, "What's wrong, ___? Let's go talk to him."

But you shake your head, strangely discomforted by the whole situation, "Nah. I'm not feeling well. I'll wait for you guys outside."

Taehyung looks a bit perplexed, but Yerin is too excited to stop and question you, "Okay, we won't take long."

And with that the two of them happily jog away to greet Jungkook and the sorority sisters. You freeze when the tall redhead in the group turns, revealing herself as Hyejin. Surprised, you instantly duck behind the door to peek at them from a distance. You've gotten into enough trouble with your sorority sister over the past few weeks, and you don't want her to think that you're trying to steal Jungkook or anything ridiculous like that… again.

From down the hall, you can hear their conversation as clear as day. It's really just frivolous, with the sorority girls whining over the unfairness of the game and Taehyung patting Jungkook on the back and telling him there will be other games. Yerin is a little better.

"You played well, Jungkook," she tells him with the sweetest of smiles.

"Not that well," he says with a humorless laugh, "I kinda fucked up the game for everyone."

This is met with a chorus of protests from the entourage surrounding him, "No way!" Taehyung exclaims in horror.

"This was like no big deal!" Hyejin adds, "You really can't blame yourself!"

"Yeah, it was just a bad day," her friend says.

Jungkook smiles the entire time, but you know him well enough to see that the smile doesn't reach his eyes, "Thanks guys," he says, "But you should go on in and say hi to the other members. They'd really appreciate it."

The group mumbles their assent before they begin filing into the building. But Hyejin pauses by the door when she notices Jungkook still lingering in the hall, "Are you coming, honey?"

He offers her a tight smile, "I'll catch up."

"Alright, but don't keep me waiting too long," the beautiful redhead grins, and with a flirty wave of her hand, she disappears into the building.

As soon as she's gone, Jungkook crumples against the wall, head held in his hands. It's such a shocking 180-degree change that you're unsure what to do. Unlike how he looked during the game, dominating the field, he's practically curled up into his dirty, wrinkled uniform now. He looks so damn broken, just leaning against the cement as though his body will no longer support his weight. You've never see the bigger-than-life star athlete look so small before. And it breaks your heart.

You know more than anyone else what this means to him. Jungkook isn't the type to talk about his emotions that easily. And the fact that he told you about his worries and how important this was to him… The recruiters were there today. And he fucked up in front of all of them.

As though possessed, you find yourself stumbling forward into the hallway. The logical part of your mind curses you for this mystifying behavior. What are you even doing? This is clearly an uncomfortable situation for the both of you. And now he's going to know that you were eavesdropping on him like some kind of stalker… You really should've just left when you had the chance… But now it's too late and Jungkook has noticed your approach.

It's striking how he instantly tenses up when he recognizes you. It's so different from the friendly greeting he offered Yerin and the others, the way he eyes you with cold distrust. His jaw tightens and his hands subconsciously ball into fists, as though he's anticipating a fight.

"___," he murmurs your name in a dark voice, "Listen, I really don't have the time for this. Can we talk about this tomorrow or something?"

It suddenly occurs to you that he thinks that you're talking about the creative writing project… That you're here to scold him and make him feel worse, even in his vulnerable state.

You stand there for a tense second that stretches on for what feels like forever, helpless but to stare at him while he watches you back with guarded, suspicious eyes. And then you move forward again.

Jungkook exhales in frustration as he realizes that you're not letting up, "Okay fine, I'm sorry, alright? I am a disgusting fucking bastard and you have every right to—oh," he grunts in surprise when you suddenly spring forward to grab him.

He stiffens under your unexpected aggression, as though expecting an actual attack, and it takes him a long three seconds to realize that you're not actually hitting him… You're… you're embracing him.

More confused than he's ever been in his life, he nevertheless lowers his fists back to his sides and slowly unclenches them so that he can awkwardly pat your back. When have you ever willingly hugged him like this? It's so strange that Jungkook doesn't know what to do with himself.

"___?" he calls out your name in a quiet voice, "What are you doing?"

But you ignore him and bury your face in his chest as you cling onto him harder. He smells like sweat and the dirty grass of the field. But underneath it all, he still smells like Jungkook. And you delve your nose deeper, seeking out that familiar scent.

There's a moment of strained silence.

Then, Jungkook slowly relaxes, inch by inch, into your tight embrace. Still bewildered beyond belief, he nevertheless wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you more comfortably against him. You're so relieved that he hasn't pushed you away like you expected that you push in closer towards him. Soon, the two of you are so intertwined that you can hear the hard pitter-patter of his heart as it beats against his ribcage, inches from your face. You're so close to him that you can feel his every breath and the way the air empties and fills his lungs in a never-ending cycle like rhythmic waves beating against the shore.

He disintegrates further after a minute of this, muscles loosening and whole body growing slack as he rests his head heavily on top of yours. He's taller than you, and has his arms surrounding your figure while you can only cling to his waist. But still, it's obvious that you are the one holding him, and not the other way around.

Another minute, and he has all but melted into you, body bending like putty under your touch. He's clinging onto you at this point, desperate for your warmth as he digs his fingers into the fabric of your clothing and presses you hard against his heart. You allow him to, eagerly allowing him any comfort you can give as you tighten your hold around his waist and simply breathe him in.

It's impossible to tell how long you stand there in the cold alleyway, allowing Jungkook to hold onto you with such raw desperation that it's contagious. You clutch onto him in return, stroking your hands gently over the tensed expanse of his back and soothing him over your unspoken words of comfort. Words that would instantly break the spell if voiced out loud.

He holds you like a man drowning, and you're the life preserver. He holds you like you're a precious treasure that he will never let go. You can't remember the last time you've been touched like this—if you ever have, that is—and his pain seeps from his skin into yours until you can't tell what's his and what's yours.

For this moment in time… in this dirty, forlorn alleyway, the two of you have reached a tacit understanding that transcends the need for words. For this moment in time, you have melded into a single entity, connected by one beating heart. You can't feel the wintry air whipping in your face or the discomfort of his filthy uniform staining your clean clothes. You can't feel anything but the heat of his body against yours, the feeling washing away every other sensation.

There is something tying you to him in ways you can't explain. But you know he feels it too.

But then, you hear the sound of footsteps beyond the closed door.

You break from Jungkook's hold so quickly that you nearly send the both of you flying. Somehow, you're more paranoid about being caught in this seemingly platonic embrace than you would in an illicit affair. For indescribable reasons, this feels more intimate. Your heart pounding in your chest, you rapidly turn on your heel to flee for your life.

"Wait!" Jungkook calls out in surprise, "___, where are you going?"

But at that moment, a group of people come streaming out of the building, "Oh, Jungkook? What are you still doing here?"

"Yeah, it's really cold out here," Hyejin says, cutely reaching over to grab at Jungkook's arm, "Let's go inside."

Still, he hesitates, trying to peer around the corner for you, but you're long gone, "Okay," he agrees. He has no idea what the fuck just happened in this alleyway. He's still reeling from the experience, and trying his best not to feel disappointed by the fact that you didn't even look back.

With a forced smile, he follows them back into the building. Because they're right. It is quite cold outside… now that you're gone.

A/N: I’m sorry that the chapter got away from me and became much different than I was originally planning towards the end... But after this terrible week, it was such an emotional catharsis writing this and I hope that you guys can feel the same relief I did when reading it.

As always, please don’t ask me about updates and Happy Holidays! Take care of yourselves and dress warmly <3

#new rules #jungkook scenarios #jungkook scenario #bts scenarios #noonanet

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taeminuet · 7 years

Text

Hands On Training

Title: Hands On Training Fandom: BTS Pairing: VMin Length: 2.5k Rating: NC-17 Warnings: exhibitionism, daddy!kink, age gap Summary: In which Jimin’s trip home gets a little more interesting.

For @eorumverba. Merry (slightly belated) Christmas, babe~ <3 I hope you like this;;

The train ride home is long and boring. Jimin uses most of the time to catch up on reading, though sometimes he watches netflix on his laptop, uses the time to make his way through the better part of a season of a new anime. It’s never exciting, not really, except that this time, his thoughts have been everywhere but the subtitles on the screen in front of him.

It’s all Yoongi’s fault. The two of them had been sprawled out on Yoongi’s bed, the window open to the chilly late fall air so that the smoke from Yoongi’s cigarette puffed up and out through the gap. Yoongi had been talking, absently, about his day, about getting up at 4 a.m. to be at the coffee shop by 5 for set up, and how he hated working Saturday shifts, not because he was tired but because, “There’s always drunk people finding their way home, and they can’t keep their goddamn hands to their goddamn selves.”

As he’d said it, he’d gestured what he meant, his hand sliding over Jimin’s thigh suggestively. And at the time, Jimin had laughed him off, pushed him back and stolen his cigarette to take a tiny drag for himself, coughing a little at the bitter taste of menthol. And Yoongi had helpfully shotgunned the rest into his mouth, meeting him in the middle for a kiss, but Jimin’s mind had been elsewhere, on the heat of Yoongi’s hand lingering on his thigh and the thought of being on the bus with him, Yoongi gripping his thigh and spreading his legs open and--

Jimin shivers now, despite the warmth of the train. It’s cold outside, the snow begin to pile in a soft hills along either side of the tracks, but the bus is always warm, and Jimin’s coat is off and tucked between himself and the arm rest. And resting on that arm rest is his neighbor’s arm, leading down to a broad, long-fingered hand.

He’s had his headphones in most of the ride, but that doesn’t matter. He’d heard the man’s voice when he sat down, asked Jimin politely if he minded like he didn’t have a ticket with that seat number printed on it, and he has the deepest voice Jimin has ever heard in real life, low and thick and even with his headphones in, even with the pitchy melodramatic voices of anime protagonists talking in his ear, Jimin can’t get it out of his head.

Jimin isn’t sure how old he is. He’d been smiling when he asked Jimin, large and boxy, his eyes curving into crescents, and Jimin would have guessed mid-to-late twenties. But now that he’s sitting, the smile softened into a more neutral expression, Jimin’s pretty sure he’s at least in his mid-thirties, well over a decade older than Jimin himself.

And maybe Jimin’s weak, but he’s always had a bit of a thing for certain types of men: older, bigger, stronger. Men who can overpower him. Jimin’s strong, sure, but he’s also tiny, and there’s something about the difference there that makes his mouth go dry and his head spin. And yes, okay, sure, he loves Yoongi to death, but they’re not exclusive, and Yoongi isn’t exactly the type of guy that frequently features in Jimin’s private fantasies. Well, sometimes, but… not for this.

For this, the type of guy that features is, god, basically the exact person sitting next to him right now, and Jimin may have surreptitiously pinched himself once or twice. But he’s definitely awake, and he can’t focus, eyes flickering to the man’s hand and back a few times. He’s completely lost track of the plot at this point.

He tries in vain to scroll back to something he recognizes, but he doesn’t know what any of this is, and he wonders how long he’s been this distracted. He drags the cursor back to the beginning of the episode, chewing on his lip as he does, and in the sudden silence of nothing happening in his headphones he hears the faint rustle of fabric on fabric.

He looks down, bewildered, and sees the man trying to pull something out of his pocket, his wrist -- and the neat button-down he’s wearing -- scraping lightly against the material of Jimin’s coat where it’s bunching up, spilling slightly over the gap beneath the armrests.

Jimin makes a short sound, what kind he’s not even sure, and pulls the jacket out of the way, his cheeks coloring. “Sorry,” he says, voice a little louder than he thinks he means to, and he tugs out one earbud to monitor his volume a little better. “I didn’t realize it was like that. Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” the man says, smiling again, less boxy now though no less genuine. It doesn’t transform his face quite as much, doesn’t squint his eyes into crescents, and his gze makes Jimin feel suddenly very conscious of himself.

He squirms a little straighter, shifting his laptop in his lap as he pushes the jacket between himself and the wall instead. “I mean, I shouldn’t have been taking up your seat.”

“I think it’s only fair,” the man says, a laugh on his lips. “I’m monopolizing the armrest a little. You should be free to use the space under it.”

“You have longer arms,” Jimin says, before he can think it through, and then gets tongue-tied because what does he say after that? “And… uh, nevermind…”

“And?” the man prompts, and there’s amusement in his voice but it doesn’t seem mocking, just vaguely pleased.

Jimin’s cheeks flush, and he fumbles to put his earbud back in just to escape the situation, but the man reaches out and catches his wrist gently, and Jimin squeaks. He clears his throat quickly, face flushing pink, and the man lets go, his fingers dragging slow off Jimin’s skin, and Jimin hates himself for the gasp that catches in his throat, the way his eyes dart to the man’s hand and back up.

The man’s lips quirk playfully. “And?”

It feels more like a demand than a prompt, and Jimin shivers. He’s silent for a moment, just a moment, and then then man leans back some -- when had he gotten so close? -- and the tension leeches out of the air. Jimin lets out a noisy breath. “You’re… you’re just bigger than me. I figured you needed more space.”

“Is that all?” the man asks, more mild, more curious.

Jimin bites back a whine. “That’s… that’s all?” It comes out a question.

“Maybe you’re just small,” the man says, and then, like a complete non-sequitur, “My name is Taehyung. What’s yours?”

“Jimin.” It falls off his tongue almost like he’s eager, and Jimin is bad at talking to new people, but he can follow prompts easily enough. “It’s Jimin.”

“How old are you, Jimin?” Taehyung asks. His voice around Jimin’s name makes Jimin feel like he’s drowning.

“20,” he says. “In October.”

He doesn’t know what he expects the response to be. Maybe for Taehyung to pull away in surprise. Maybe to get a comment about how young he looks. Maybe nothing at all. It doesn’t matter. He’s not entirely prepared when Taehyung says, “I’m 14 years older than you then. That doesn’t bother you?”

It’s not judgemental, just an honest question, and Jimin reels for a second. He knows exactly what Taehyung is saying. How can he not? But a part of him, small and insecure and unsure of himself in a way that makes him question his own knowledge makes his mouth form, “Why… why would it bother me?”

“That’s a good question, I guess,” Taehyung says, and then closes his hand in a slow, overly elaborate way, one finger at a time. Jimin stares, fixated. “Unless I’m reading this wrong? You’ve been looking at me the whole time. At my hand…”

Jimin’s sucks in a short, quick breath. He can’t imagine having the bravery to do what Taehyung is doing now. He would be so terrified of being wrong. But Taehyung isn’t wrong, and Jimin…

Jimin nods jerkily. “I… yeah.”

“Yeah, what?” Taehyung prompts. “Tell me?”

It’s a question, but it doesn’t feel like one, and Jimin couldn’t refuse if he wanted to. He doesn’t want to.

“Yeah, I’ve… I’ve been looking at you. Them. Your… yeah.”

Taehyung laughs, low and melodic and sweet. “Do you want to tell me why, Jimin?”

He keeps asking, like a question, like Jimin has a choice. And he doesn’t, but it doesn’t feel like he should. He doesn’t want to say no. Or… or he does, but he wants Taehyung to push, and he has a feeling they’re not there yet, that if he says no, Taehyung will take it for one. It’s the right thing to do, and he’s a little comforted by that feeling, but he’s a lot frustrated by it too, and he turns his own answers over on his tongue for a minute before he whispers, “They’re nice hands. They’re… big.”

“And you’re small,” Taehyung answers, and he’s smiling, but his voice is intent.

Jimin nods, swallowing.

“Small enough for…?” Taehyung stops, an open ended question.

Jimin can’t. He can’t answer that as easily. It’s too much. Too heavy. He shakes his head slowly, licking his lips in a quick, nervous motion. He sees Taehyung’s eyes dart to it for a moment and that’s a rush, but it doesn’t bring him any closer to an answer.

Taehyung frowns. “Jimin…”

“I… I can’t,” Jimin whispers. “I don’t…”

Taehyung looks at him for a long time. “Can’t what?” he asks finally. “Can’t do this? Or can’t say?”

“Say,” Jimin says in relief. An easy question, an easy answer. “I want…”

And he trails off, but that’s enough. Taehyung smiles, leaning in closer, and Jimin feels his fingers curl under his chin, tipping his head up. He closes his eyes, breath catching, almost trembling. He anticipates a kiss, but Taehyung only smooths a thumb over Jimin’s bottom lip, slow enough to tease.

Jimin gasps, just a little, and Taehyung slips his finger up a little, pressing just the tip of his thumb into the space between Jimin’s parted lips. Jimin stalls, just for a moment and then lets his mouth open further. It’s all he can do, as much bravery as he has, and when Taehyung’s finger disappears, his eyes fly open, almost betrayed. But Taehyung only slides his first two fingers into Jimin’s mouth instead, short and easy, and Jimin gives a breathless noise of anticipation and sucks.

The noise Taehyung lets out is low and pleased, and he pressed his fingers down slightly, pushing the pads of his fingers into Jimin’s tongue and stroking slowly, gently,making Jimin suck in a tight breath, visibly trembling.

Taehyung pulls his hand away and Jimin lets out a whine of protest. Taehyung smiles at him and then turns forward, just in time for someone to walk past them, barely even glancing over.

Jimin’s breath all leaves him in a rush. “Oh,” he whispers, and his hands are shaking. He closes the laptop, pushing it down into the bag tucked between his legs and under his seat, and leans his head forward onto the seat in front of him, taking a moment to find his his breath again, the swooping heat of almost being caught like that making his head foggy and his chest tight.

He feels a warmth, a pressure, Taehyung’s palm sliding heavy onto his thigh, immediately teasing at the inner seam of his pants, and Jimin makes a quiet, barely audible noise. Taehyung must hear it though, because his hand tightens subtly, and he leans in, his voice low in Jimin’s ear. “Is this what you wanted, Jimin?”

Jimin shudders visibly, jerkily, and Taehyung’s hand brushes higher, higher. There’s a rush in Jimin’s ears, in his head, and he can’t help the way his cock twitches and hardens, leaking uncomfortably in his underwear and making it sticky and damp with precome. Jimin spreads his legs on instinct, opening up, and Taehyung… stops.

He squeezes Jimin’s thigh again hard, and leaves it there, a warm taunting heat that makes Jimin feel dazed. He doesn’t know what to ask for. His mouth is dry and his tongue is tied and he wants Taehyung’s fingers back in his mouth except that he doesn’t want the touch on his leg to go away.

He whines quietly. “I…”

“What, Jimin?” Taehyung asks, almost kindly, and it doesn’t fit with the way he squeezes Jimin’s thigh. Someone walks past, maybe the same person going in the opposite direction, and Jimin’s face flushes with heat. He squirms, reaching down for Taehyung’s arm, and his hand is so small, barely wrapping around Taehyung’s wrist.

He doesn’t pull at it, just grips on there, like a lifeline, and Taehyung smiles before turning his hand a little, bringing it an inch higher, and then he’s cupping Jimin through his pants, palming Jimin’s hard cock. Jimin gasps and pushes his hips against it instinctively, unthinking.

Taehyung makes a soft noise, and his voice is a whisper, but it feels so loud, feels like anyone else on earth might be able to hear when Taehyung says, “Are you that needy, you’re going to let a stranger get you off in the middle of a train?”

Jimin doesn’t manage to bite back his whimper, only brings his hand up to muffle it, clapping it over his mouth. His hips spasm into Taehyung’s grip, and Taehyung twists his hand up to hover over Jimin’s button like a question that Jimin never gets the chance to answer before he’s undoing it and pushing his hand inside.

It’s not subtle anymore. If anyone passes, just a glace and they’ll see Taehyung with his hand pushed down Jimin’s pants, Jimin rutting up against the sudden grip Taehyung has on his cock, desperate and wanton, shaking under Taehyung’s hand.

“Please,” he whimpers into his hand, just barely muffled. It just slipped out, and Jimin’s face is hot, but Taehyung only strokes his thumb over the ridge on the bottom of Jimin’s cock, and Jimin arches up off the seat, breathing hard and fast into his palm.

“Please what?” Taehyung asks.

Jimin shakes his head. His mouth is dry and his mind if foggy and his cock is leaking, dripping, making Taehyung’s fingers sticky.

He knows exactly what comes after that ‘please’ but he’s shaking apart, crumpling helplessly against Taehyung’s side as Taehyung strokes him harder, faster, his voice somehow, impossibly, deepening as he growls, “Please what?”

“Please daddy,” Jimin pants.

“Fuck,” Taehyung groans low in his ear and twists his wrist and Jimin is coming, staining his boxers and making a mess of Taehyung’s hand as Taehyung murmurs, “Good boy. Come for daddy.”

Jimin gasps, hips stuttering, and it’s disgusting a little, but Taehyung’s hand is still working at his cock, slow and overwhelming, and he lips out a hiccupping breath and chokes, “D-daddy…”

“Good boy,” Taehyung says again, making Jimin’s heart jump. He pulls his hand free, looking at it for a moment, and then raises an eyebrow at Jimin. “How far down does your coat cover when it’s on?”

Jimin is panting, breathless, but he manages, “My... almost my knees.”

“Good,” Taehyung says, and slides his come-sticky hand back onto Jimin’s upper thigh, grabbing possessively. Jimin shudders again. He leans against Taehyung for a while longer, and Taehyung takes to rubbing little circles on the outside of Jimin’s thigh. After a while he hums. “When’s your return ticket?”

Jimin blinks up at him, still in a bit of a daze. “I… the… the 2nd? I think? At 7.”

Taehyung hums. “I hadn’t booked mine yet. What seat are you in?”

And it’s another of those choices. All Jimin has to do is lie. Or say he doesn’t know. Instead he breathes, “E1, Daddy.”

Taehyung smiles at him and squeezes his hand tight, and suddenly all Jimin can think of is how long he has to wait until the trip back.

#bts fanfiction #bts fic #VMin #my writing #merry christmas loml #sorry this is a tiny bit late <3

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