#technically it's pre-relationship and could be seen as one sided but.

[detective4blog]

I wrote something. There's no plot and maybe no continuing this idk yet but </3

@fuzzysoulyt the lads,,,,

Mycroft stared at the man sitting so casually in his office, already feeling tired. After fretting about his brother for hours, now he has another little worrying nuisance waiting in his safe haven.

"I could hear your footsteps." The man called out, louder than necessary. Maybe he hadn't figured out the door was still open, which...gave no advantage since his presence was already known. "Might as well pop in and say hi."

He took a deep breath and entered the room, sitting in his comfortable desk chair. The cocky grin that appeared on the blonde assassin's face signaled that he was in a good mood.

Well. He always seemed to be in a good mood whenever casually breaking and entering into various places to be a pest.

"I suppose it's an improvement since you aren't brandishing your weaponry about." Mycroft spoke, crossing his arms on the desk. That brought a laugh from the other man, an eyebrow raising.

"Concealin' them this time. You could frisk me to find out." That grin grew wider, head tilting to the side playfully.

Mycroft blinked, brow furrowing. He couldn't tell if the man was acting as natural or putting a serious effort into seducing him. Or whatever it was the man wanted; he didn't understand him.

A neutral response seemed best. Encouraging this behavior would end in a possible headache. "Charming of you, Moran."

His eyes darkened, as they always did whenever being called by his last name. "C'mon now, I've told you to call me Sebastian. Or you could call me yours."

Mycroft was slightly caught off guard by that, shaking his head slightly. "Bold today, I see." He muttered, closing his eyes. "What brought you here?"

Sebastian was silent at that question; either thinking or not wanting to answer. Could be both if this was a 'work visit'. "Just wanted to see your handsome face, Myc."

The older frowned at the nickname but knew it was pointless to comment on it. "Has your employer sent you to attempt to get information through your affection? Because it will not work, I'm afraid." He didn't smell alcohol in the air, so Sebastian wasn't drunk doing this.

A small blessing, he supposed.

Now it was the other man's turn to frown, eyes rolling. "Hmph. Is it such an outlandish thing for me to simply be interested in you?"

Mycroft stared, trying to pick up on any sarcasm or underlaying motives. It was strange to see that Sebastian was being entirely sincere.

"Excuse me for the doubt, you're as crafty as Moriarty."

He didn't mean it as a compliment but the man took it that way, eyes lighting up with joy. It was oddly enjoyable to see a positive look in the assassin's eyes. Maybe because it meant he likely was here for some strange social call.

There was a bit of silence after that, though it had no suspense about it. Just silence and staring at each other, ready for one to make a hostile move and rebuke it. Mycroft had no interest in attempting any conflict with Sebastian; he knew the man's strength in length. The list of suspected and known crimes was quite vast after all.

Sebastian sat up suddenly, leaning forward in his chair. "I brought a gift, actually. Left it in your car." He realized how that sentence could come off right after saying it. "It's not a bomb. I'm not the man sent for bombings. Too many wires for my taste...and also too personal."

He was rambling, which was new. Mycroft tilted his head. Was the second most dangerous man in London nervous? How intriguing. He made a note about it, storing it under 'Moran knowledge I didn't quite need'.

"I see. I won't ask how you gained access to the vehicle-"

"-Jim has a copy of the key."

Mycroft stared, massaging the side of his temple. "When?"

"Sometime during those tense and awkward meetings you two had. Never quite got the details of that."

That was likely for the better.

"I expect you to stay to see how your gift is received." The older tilted his head, standing up. "Though it would not be a surprise if you left either." He started towards the door, undoing his jacket.

The wolf whistle from Sebastian at the action was ignored, though it made heat rise to his face. He didn't acknowledge it and continued on to check what was left for him.

Out of all the things he expected, an umbrella wasn't quite it. It seemed to be custom made, from the handle to the fabric and it's design. A blue see through umbrella that dipped down lower to shield his face better.

A kind gift, though a bit out of character for Sebastian. He returned to the office to give his thanks, and attempt to get the man to leave. He was still sitting, legs crossed casually and hands behind his head.

"I appreciate the effort you went through to obtain this. Though forgive me if I think it's bugged with trackers or worse."

Sebastian's brow furrowed, a barking laughing roaring out. "Couldn't be bugged if I wanted it to be. It isn't a regular ol' umbrella either, Myc. You really think I'd get such a boring gift for such a beautifully eccentric man like yourself?"

Mycroft raised a brow, looking over the gift again. There seemed to be an extra button on the handle but other than that, it wasn't special in any way. The younger seemed to notice his curiosity, getting up and leaning down, guiding his hand to the third button.

When it was pressed, the handle felt loose compared to the rest of the device. Carefully he slid it away, revealing a rapier underneath. One with a floral engraving towards the hilt that turned to vines crawling upwards.

He couldn't figure out what to say in response. He had a weapon concealed in an umbrella already, but this was...different. The other was for self defense and not many knew of it. Sebastian included. The process of how this gift idea came the man's mind was unknown.

"It's sharp as hell, so be careful with it. If it wasn't so large, could be used for shaving." He seemed to think over his last sentence and a new idea came to mind.

"Providing someone who is not an ally with a weapon is perhaps your most interesting action thus far."

"At least it makes flirting less strange."

Sebastian was still leaned down slightly and rather close. His hand was still slightly holding Mycroft's. He hadn't noticed, distracted by the blade. Sliding the cover back into place and relieved to hear a click when it was put in place, he leaned it against the desk for now.

"I don't understand you sometimes, Sebastian." He murmured, retracting his hand to clasp it under his chin. The slip of his name made the assassin brighten like a sun.

"I could always help with that. For example, I think you'd look quite gorgeous in dark greens." Sebastian's accent was thickened with joy, catching Mycroft's attention.

His eyes darkened when being called by his last name, his accent became thicker with strong emotions, and he rambled when nervous. All things noted about the assassin that he didn't quite need to know.

"That doesn't quite aid me, but...thank you." Understanding Sebastian Moran wasn't a priority right now...and frankly, he believed that there was too much to begin to understand.

The man laughed, taking a step back. "I've overstayed my welcome. See you again soon, gorgeous."

Mycroft raised a brow at the nickname. "Do you call all government officials 'gorgeous' or am I a special case?" He asked as an attempt of a joke.

"Oh, you're a special cast. None of the other bastards are quite as enjoyable as you. Or, yaknow, gorgeous." Sebastian replied with a grin and a wink before heading out the door. The older watched him go, straining to hear the method of exit.

This time it was the front door. Bold, but not a surprise. It was Sebastian Moran after all.

[dearharriet]

Sunday-Side-Up; James Potter 🍳

summary: you’re worried on the morning after a hookup with your friend, james

word count: 2.3K

warnings: pg-13 smut, sexually implicit content, fem!r, beefy/gym!james, pre-relationship, getting together, hurt/comfort(ish), fluff

note: this is technically an addition to sunday, another gym!james fic that I wrote, but u can read it as a standalone if u wish! u can find the request here

An egg simmers and pops in the buttery pan on the stove, mirroring your calamitous heart. It’s all you can look at. A rogue explosion of butter lands on the skin of your hand, but you hardly even flinch, just staring and staring at the pristine yolk in its sea of bubbling white.

Back in your room, harbored by your stuffed animals and rumpled sheets, is your good friend, James. Though you aren’t sure if you could call him as such anymore, considering the less-than-friendly activities you’d partaken in the night before.

How had you let yourself cave like that?

Outside, the sun is calmly rising, paying no mind to your frivolous human thoughts. It scores over the trees surrounding your apartment and lands sharp and warm on your cheeks. You ignore it as best you can, putting all the early energy you have into protecting the little sun you’re cooking.

Your attraction for James was never much of a secret, nor was his for you, but you always assumed there was nothing to be done about it. He’s one of your best friends and most coveted confidants, and losing him includes losing the other two of him, too. It was a silent agreement, you thought.

Until last night, of course, when he’d finally broken and asked to kiss you over a box of takeout.

“I really can’t stand to be alone with you and sit on opposite sides of the couch and pretend that that’s normal,” said James, one hand fisted over his knee. “I feel I’ve gone mad, a bit, trying to dance around this.”

You’d have liked to say you found that a little bit dramatic, but you felt the same way. Being with James was like walking on eggshells, sometimes. Even though you felt quite at home with him, there were still boundaries to maintain. You constantly had to double back, to reel yourself in before you said something too flirty or touched him longer than was necessary. It was exhausting and disappointing. You were tired of being disappointed.

So upon your permission, James had followed you to your room, and he hadn’t held back.

You can’t say you regret it, but you’re certainly worrying. There’s reasons you had boundaries in place, reasons that both you and James resisted the magnetism that pulls you together, and they’re all in the wind now.

If you lost James, lost your friendship…

Carried away with emotions, you push at your fried egg too hard, shaking the buoyant yolk out of its membrane.

“No,” you whine, gripping the offending spatula in your hand. It’s all you can do to watch the yolk seep over the crispy whites surrounding it, spilling onto the hot pan with a sizzle.

“What’s a’matter?”

Your eyes whip over to the kitchen entryway, finding James in a sick state of undress, a pair of boxers low on his hips and glasses crooked where they perch on his nose. Like he’d gotten up to find you before getting dressed, hardly remembering he’d need glasses to do so.

You tell yourself you’re projecting, returning your greedy gaze to the sad situation on the stove. James’ broad chest and muscled thighs creep into the back of your mind for safekeeping anyway.

He comes up behind you, peering easily over your shoulder to gauge what the problem is.

“I broke the yolk,” you tell him, as if it’s not obvious.

James grunts darkly, as if to agree that this is a very grave occurrence. Still, his voice is as comforting as it is gravelly when he responds.

“Well, flip that one and it can be mine. I don’t like sunny-side.”

Turning to glance up at him, you frown. “I thought you did?” You could swear you’ve seen him eat his eggs that way before.

Lips pursing in a shy almost-smile, James relents. “Well, yes, I do. But not strictly. I’ll eat whatever—‘specially if you make it.”

You turn your frown back to the pan, saying nothing. James takes the moment of silence to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your back flush against his bare chest. The sleep shirt you’d thrown on feels thinner than the broken yolk membrane, letting all of James’ warmth strike you right in the heart. It’s almost too much for you to handle.

Correction, it is too much for you to handle.

Reaching down, you peel James’ hands off of your torso, wincing the whole way through. He backs off, easily taking the hint, but when you glance his way he looks befuddled.

“Um.” James averts his gaze to the floor, clearly knocked down by your rejection. “Have I misread something?”

“No, I’m sorry, I—“

You sigh, realizing this discussion needs more attention than you currently have to spare. In quick movements, you flick the stove burner off and move the pan to one that’s not hot, and then you turn your full effect on James.

Standing in front of you, undressed and muscled and reproachful, James looks embarrassed beyond measure.

“It’s nothing you did, James, I just—I’m not sure last night should’ve happened, is all.”

Picking at your lips worriedly, you await his response, but it’s nothing like you expect. You thought he’d turn sly or charming, convince you that it was worthwhile. James’ eyes blow wide and concerned instead.

“You didn’t want to?” The dread in his voice is thick, knocking you back with the sheer force of it. You almost reach out to comfort him, but think better of it.

“James, of course I did, yes. I wanted to.”

James’ broad shoulders relax from their anxious hunch, but his guarded posture still remains.

“What, then? You didn’t enjoy it?”

You huff. “No, James. Will you stop putting words into my mouth? Of course I enjoyed it, it was—“

You pause, trying to describe exactly how it was, but then shake the entire thought off, realizing you’re getting sidelined. James looks hesitantly amused at your clear flush, the short reminiscing enough to fluster you.

“It doesn’t matter,” you assert. “We can’t do it again.”

“We can’t?” James asks, but it sounds more like a challenge.

“No, we can’t. It’d be irresponsible. There’s a reason we held off on this, and you know it.”

“I know why I held off,” says James, and he’s stepping closer, to your dismay. “Why did you, sweetness?”

Your heart lodges in your throat, set off by his name calling and proximity. Bum pressing back against the counter, you suspect the only way to ward James off now is with a long, pointy stick, threateningly waved back and forth.

“Because,” you start, mouth dry, “it would ruin our friendship.”

A laugh booms forth from James’ throat, making you dizzy. You can’t help but watch his chest shake with it, his boxer elastic slipping ever-so-slightly lower, revealing more coarse hair and golden skin.

“Well,” James says, calling your attention back to his face, “I should hope so. I don’t want to be your friend, love. I thought I made that clear last night.”

You open your mouth and then shut it again. This time, you don’t redirect your thoughts as they amble back to the way James touched you last night, to the overwhelming sensation of finally having him, of being had.

James’ hands find purchase on the counter behind you, caging you between his arms, and you’re sure he knows exactly where your mind’s gone.

“Is that what you want, hm?” he asks, voice rasping with pure desire. “To be friends?”

You swallow. James’ heady scent is spilling over you in waves, which you typically have no trouble with, but you're not prepared for your smells to waft off of him, too. One night in your bed and he’s covered in you, head to toe. You can’t deny how much you enjoy the thought.

He’s so fit. It’s all you can think about with his tanned chest in front of your face, his big arms skimming yours. You know James likes the gym, but you never expected him to look like this.

Now that you’ve touched him, it’s like a dam broke inside you for good. It’s all too easy to reach for him, brushing light fingertips over his soft stomach and his v-line, the happy trail that’s bewitched you.

Finally, your hands push up, up, up his chest, over his pecs and shoulders until you’re looking into his expectant gaze. Had he said something?

“No,” you mumble, voice distracted. “No, I don’t want to be friends.” An incredulous laugh escapes you. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” James repeats, grinning like a child with candy.

You run your hands down his front again, intoxicated with the feel of him under your fingers.

“I guess I’m just a little worried about how this will change things,” you tell him, anchoring yourself to his waist. Pulling him closer.

“It doesn’t have to change anything, if we don’t want it to.”

That makes you smile a bit, his talking about the two of you like a pair, a unit. Still, it’s misguided.

“That’s a bit naive, don’t you think? I mean, something’s changed.” You make a point to emphasize the state you’re both in, the proximity.

James grins wickedly. “Well, that’s the good stuff, love. I only meant we don’t have to tell Remus or Sirius, at least until we’re ready. We don’t even have to go on dates, if you don’t want. We can just be like really, really good friends.”

This simultaneously makes you want to laugh and cry. Your expression settles on what is probably pensive, or indistinguishable.

“I’d want to go on dates…,” you mumble, suddenly feeling very bashful.

James’ whole demeanor seems to flip on its head. Before, he was feigning casualty, like he’d be down for anything. Now he’s all business, locked in on you.

“Yeah?” James asks, his voice unbearably tender. His hands abandon the counter for your hips, kneading the soft skin hidden under your sleep shirt.

“Yeah,” you confirm, breathless. “James, I want this to be more than sex.”

Brows furrowing, James levels you with a curious look.

“Is that what this is about? You think I only want to shag you?”

Embarrassed, you start to shrink away from his examining eyes, only to remember he has you cornered. You settle for the alternative and shove your face into the crook of his neck, groaning.

“Don’t tease me about this, James. Not this.”

“Not teasing, lovely, no. I only want to understand.” James' hand takes up in your hair, spinning it around his fingers and releasing it again and again. His voice is a calm wash now, quiet and raspy. “Is that what had you so worried?”

Reluctantly, you nod as best you can without braining yourself on his jaw or yanking your hair in his grip. James clicks his tongue.

“Can I have a look at you?”

His hand encourages your head back carefully, until his hazel eyes have yours pinned under them, like moths under a kitchen glass. Your face fits between his palms, hot-cheeked and sensitive, hoping he’ll say something to make you feel like less of a fool.

“D’you know why I didn’t try to do this before?” James doesn’t let you answer, bulldozing right through with a nervous sort of energy. “It’s ‘cause I knew I didn’t deserve you. I mean—what?”

You can’t stop your laugh. You’re doubled over into James’ shoulder again, laughing like a prick while he’s trying to be vulnerable with you, but honestly, could you blame yourself?

“What are you talking about, ‘not deserving’ me? You’re so bizarre.” You pull back from him, rosy and amused. Despite being made fun of, James seems to be in light spirits, smiling along with you.

“What’s so bizarre about it? You’re gorgeous and funny and good for me and I don’t deserve it.” He shrugs. “Anyone with eyes can see that.”

“I’m good for you, am I?” you repeat oddly, feeling admittedly tingly and giddy from his admission.

“Well, yeah, love. You make me happy.” James’ voice drops a decibel, dangerously sweet and whispered close to your lips. “Even when you’re laughing at me while I tear my chest apart to make you feel better.”

That only makes you laugh again, and this time James presses his smiling mouth over yours.

You soak in his kiss, coaxing his bed-warm body as close to yours as possible until you’re two sides of the same coin. James pushes his hands further up the back of your shirt, relishing in the expanse of bare skin there, and you take his bottom lip between your teeth in response.

Heaving a sound between a laugh and a moan, James takes his bitten mouth down your throat, laving over marks he’d left mere hours before.

You tilt your head, happy to give him more access, only to find your sorry abandoned egg where you’d left it.

“Oh, we forgot about breakfast,” you stress, reaching for the stove with no real purpose. James catches your hand to bring back to your scene together.

“Forget about it,” he mumbles into your skin, “I’ll cook you som’thin later. Right now I want you back in bed.”

You hum, easily agreeing, though you can’t help your other needs, even as James hikes your legs up and around his waist.

“A sunny side egg, please? With jam on toast?”

Laughing into your mouth, James walks you both out of the kitchen blindly.

“Yeah, pretty girl, whatever you want.”

He aims for another kiss, hot and barreling fast around the corner into carnal, but you pull back one more time before he can get carried away.

“And James?”

“Yeah?”

You can’t believe how handsome and strong he is, or that his strength and good looks are quickly becoming yours to enjoy. Splaying a wide hand over his cheek, you make sure he catches the full weight of your next statement, sweetly murmured into his reddened lips.

“You make me happy, too.”

James’ responding smile outshines the rising sun.

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

[kiwriteswords]

Rule Followers

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: A one-shot, that is technically a companion piece to Wicked Games, but can be read solo! I've also expanded this story so much that I no longer think I can keep the titles within the Wicked Game lyrics...

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: Suggestive Language, Implied Sexual Content, Potential Hint at Brat-Tamer!Hotch, Workplace Romance, Mild Workplace Tension, Humor. Part of a series but can be read as a standalone.

Sypnosis: After disclosing your relationship, you and Agent Hotchner are required to attend a mandatory workplace boundaries seminar, joined by Morgan and Garcia, who seem to be thoroughly entertained by the situation.

Companion piece to: Part V in the Wicked Game Universe (Can be read independently, though!)

The seminar room was filled with the monotony of beige walls and a lone projector humming softly at the front of the room. You and Hotch entered together, side by side, with Garcia and Morgan waiting in their seats, smirking like two kids ready for mischief.

“Oh, look,” Morgan murmured, nudging Garcia. “They finally arrived. I thought Strauss might’ve pulled you aside for a pre-seminar scolding.”

You scoffed and leaned over Hotch, who’d already put on his best stoic face, clearly prepping for the ordeal. “We’re here to learn, right, Aaron?”

He barely glanced at you, but you caught the corner of his mouth twitching before he composed himself. “Let’s just get through this without incident.”

Garcia, never one to let a good opportunity pass, leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “Right, sure, because a seminar on professional boundaries was exactly what this team needed. Especially you two.”

Hotch cast a withering look her way, but before he could say anything, Morgan broke in, “You know, Hotch, I’ve never seen you get flustered—until now. Kind of refreshing, actually.”

You couldn’t resist nudging him with a playful grin. “Aw, he’s just mad because he knows they’ll call him out for all those little glances he sneaks when he thinks no one’s watching.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, but he couldn’t hide the faint flush creeping up his neck. “I think we all know who’s responsible for this…meeting.”

Morgan laughed. “Oh, there’s no question about that! All those times you two have been ‘subtly’ flirting in the field? Strauss must’ve been waiting for an excuse to get you here.”

“Professional decorum is important,” Hotch said flatly, as though reciting a script.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Decorum? Man, I saw you let her push every button until you were ready to combust. Don’t think you can pretend you didn’t enjoy it.”

Garcia gasped in exaggerated delight. “Strauss isn’t the only one watching!”

Hotch sighed, clearly caught between exasperation and mild amusement. “I think it’s safe to say none of us will be contributing to the Q&A session.”

“Oh, come on, Hotch,” you teased, leaning in so only he could hear. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious what they’ll say about us?”

He looked at you, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “No, but I’m curious to see how long you can actually sit still.”

Morgan laughed, overhearing. “I give it five minutes.”

As the seminar dragged on, the team shared knowing looks and chuckled silently, each relishing the rare sight of Hotch out of his element. And though you tried to keep your composure, every time you exchanged a sly glance with Hotch or caught him subtly rolling his eyes, you could feel the playful energy between you two crackling, uncontainable even in the most "serious" of seminars.

The seminar was in full swing, and the instructor—a painfully earnest, silver-haired man with a penchant for over-explaining—was clicking through a presentation with slides so outdated they looked like they belonged in a high school health class.

You and Hotch sat side by side, each trying to focus on the presentation, but you couldn’t resist stealing glances at him. The serious set of his jaw and that faint crease between his brows said he was doing his best to keep this under control, though you could tell his patience was wearing thin.

As the instructor droned on, a new slide appeared with the title: "Avoiding Favoritism in the Workplace."

You leaned just slightly toward Hotch, voice barely above a whisper. “Well, that’s relevant.”

Without looking at you, Hotch replied quietly, “Don’t even start.”

But you couldn’t resist, nodding at the slide with mock seriousness. “You know, Aaron, maybe I should stop winning all those ‘favorite agent’ contests.”

He gave you a sidelong look, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Last I checked, those weren’t real.”

You leaned in a little closer, murmuring, “Oh, right. All my campaigning for nothing.”

Hotch didn’t miss a beat, his voice low. “I don’t play favorites in the workplace.”

You stifled a grin, keeping your tone innocent. “Good to know. So, if it came down to it, you’d rather be sleeping next to me at night than…Reid?”

Hotch’s lips twitched with the faintest smile. “It’s a close call.”

You smirked. “Come on, admit it. I’m your favorite outside the office.”

He finally glanced your way, just the hint of warmth in his eyes. “Outside the office? That’s never been in question.”

Satisfied, you settled back with a smirk. "Glad we got that straight."

You settled back, but when the next slide appeared—Examples of Inappropriate Behavior—you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. The slide showed two people standing far too close to each other, gazing with barely hidden longing, and you swore the actors looked vaguely like you and Hotch.

He let out a quiet, barely perceptible sigh as the instructor spoke. “It’s important to recognize when boundaries are becoming blurred. You may think a close colleague is just a friend, but others may perceive favoritism or unprofessional behavior.”

At that, you leaned closer to Hotch. “Think we should ask if our relationship is coming across that way?”

His gaze remained fixed on the slide. “I think the goal is to make it through without drawing attention.”

You held back a laugh, nodding seriously. “Right, right. We’re practically invisible.”

The instructor continued, oblivious, as the slides shifted to Physical Boundaries and Inappropriate Contact. You watched as a series of awkward stock photos appeared, showing coworkers sharing prolonged eye contact or lingering touches.

“This is absurd,” Hotch murmured under his breath, sounding almost resigned.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying it doesn’t cover our unique situation?”

He gave you a sharp look, the faintest glint of warning, but there was something else too—almost a glimmer of amusement. 

“Not a word.” But his silence didn’t last long. When the instructor started explaining the potential “distractions” that could arise from workplace relationships, Hotch muttered so quietly you almost missed it, “As if I’d ever be distracted.”

“Oh, really?” you whispered back, daring him with a playful smirk. “Then why do I catch you staring at me constantly?”

He didn’t respond, keeping his eyes forward with military precision. But you could see the telltale clench in his jaw and that faint blush creeping up his neck. You couldn’t let him off that easily.

“Guess you must be the picture of focus,” you murmured with a grin.

“Unlike you,” he replied in a dry whisper, “I can keep my focus exactly where it needs to be.”

“Right, so no distractions at all,” you said, casting a quick glance his way. “That’s why we’re at this seminar, after all.”

Just then, the instructor called for attention, clicking to a slide that displayed a list of “Appropriate Boundaries” in the workplace. His voice carried through the room with a practiced authority. “Maintaining professional boundaries ensures that all team members are treated fairly and equitably. Distractions, romantic relationships, or favoritism can erode the integrity of your work.”

You leaned over to Hotch, keeping your voice low. “Integrity, huh? Think ours is intact?”

Hotch’s tone was barely more than a murmur. “Strauss seems to think we’re hanging by a thread.”

You feigned a sigh. “Guess it’s a good thing I enjoy walking that line.”

He shook his head, gaze fixed on the screen as he struggled to maintain his composure. “You’re impossible.”

The instructor’s voice droned on about “a professional atmosphere free of personal entanglements” as another slide appeared—Common Workplace Hazards. The image showed two colleagues leaning too close over a desk, an almost magnetic pull between them.

You bit back a grin and leaned toward Hotch, your voice a soft murmur. “That one looks familiar…maybe a certain night in your office?”

Hotch’s jaw tensed, and his hand brushed against yours, sending a thrill down your spine. Without missing a beat, he murmured, “We are not having this conversation here.”

But you couldn’t resist, letting your fingers brush his just enough to keep him on edge. “Come on, Aaron… Remember how you locked the door?”

He shot you a sharp look, his tone low and commanding. “Behave.” His hand settled firmly over yours, stilling your movements, and his voice softened. “Or I’ll have to remind you exactly who’s in charge, even here.”

You smirked, feeling a thrill of defiance. “Promise?”

Hotch’s gaze held yours, intense and unyielding. “Trust me, I do,” he whispered, a quiet edge in his voice that left no room for argument. The glint in his eyes, though, hinted at something deeper, a shared memory lingering between you both.

Silenced and properly reeled in, you gave him a slight nod, unable to resist a soft, satisfied smile.

The seminar dragged on, but now there was a new energy between you. Every time a stock photo showed another awkward interaction or the instructor stressed the dangers of “inappropriate workplace affection,” you and Hotch would exchange the faintest of glances, each one saying everything you couldn’t in the middle of the seminar.

By the time the last slide finally clicked by with a bland “Thank you for your attention,” you were practically buzzing with pent-up energy, and you could see Hotch was just as eager to be done with it. Maybe more.

As you both stood up, gathering your things, you couldn’t help but murmur, “Well, I hope you took notes. Wouldn’t want any slip-ups in front of Strauss.”

He gave you a wry smile, finally letting the humor slip through. “I think I have everything I need right here.”

You raised an eyebrow, catching his gaze. “Does that mean I’m off the hook?”

Hotch looked at you, his voice so low and sincere that it sent a thrill down your spine. “Let’s just say I have a pretty good handle on where we stand.”

And with that, he held the door open for you, his hand brushing your lower back as you exited the room. Maybe you were supposed to keep your distance, maybe the seminar didn’t exactly condone it—but you knew you’d both be just fine.

As you and Hotch stepped out of the seminar room, Morgan and Garcia followed close behind, each wearing matching grins that hinted they’d been waiting for a moment to pounce. Hotch let his hand on your lower back drop, straightening up as if trying to re-establish some level of professionalism.

Morgan shook his head with a smirk. “Well, I think we can all agree that’s two hours of our lives we’ll never get back. Honestly thought they’d use some real-life examples from our team for a minute there.”

Garcia grinned, nudging Morgan. “Hey, I was bracing for it! I thought for sure they’d pull out that slide on pet names you shouldn’t use for your coworkers.”

You let out a snort, looking at her with amusement. “Oh yeah, we were all waiting for ‘chocolate thunder’ or ‘baby girl’  to make its big comeback.”

Hotch, keeping a straight face, gave Morgan a sidelong glance. “I think we’re all grateful they kept things…general.”

Morgan chuckled, leaning back with a grin. “Oh, sure, Hotch. General works for most of us—but something tells me this seminar’s gonna stick with you two a bit longer.”

Hotch’s lips pressed into the faintest smirk, just for a second. “I think we’re clear on what’s expected.”

You shot Hotch a sidelong smile. “Yep. Message received, loud and clear.”

Garcia, ever the gleeful instigator, clasped her hands with a grin. “I, for one, am just thrilled to have witnessed the two of you sitting through all that…professional advice.”

Hotch’s gaze flickered between the three of you, and he let out a resigned sigh. “Let’s keep the commentary in check, shall we?”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell us twice,” Morgan replied, shaking his head with a laugh. “But you two might be in for a few more of these little ‘reminders’ from Strauss, just saying.”

Hotch straightened, his expression returning to its usual calm. “I’m fairly confident we can stay on the right side of things,” he replied, casting you a brief, meaningful look.

As you all walked toward the elevators, his hand brushed your back in the subtlest of gestures, enough to remind you that, whatever Strauss or the seminar said, both of you knew exactly where you stood.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

[spiderymiasma]

🕸 Five Times.... || Miguel x f!Spider (2/5)

Summary: Gwen sees how Miguel takes it upon himself to comfort you.

//Five Times They Weren't Alone and One Time They Were.

Words: 2.0k

Tags: Comfort Fic, Overprotectiveness, Slight Angst, Mutual Pining, Eventual Kissing, Pre-relationship, Flirting, Dating, Fluff, Wholesome

A/N: A continuation of my 5 Times Series. Use of "Charlotte Webb" as a placeholder for y/n

|| My AO3 || Part 1 Here

2. Gwen Stacy

One thing was for certain, if you wanted anything from Miguel…

 …..you went to Charlotte first.

Gwen spun around in one of the swivel chairs in the other Spiderwoman's office, kicking her new stolen shoes idly.  “Sooooooo….it’s been a while since I’ve seen Miles, with all the extra work Miguel is making us do." She pouted dramatically.  "Can I pllllease get time off to go visit his dimension?  Just for a couple of days?”

The older Spiderwoman's soften as she looked at the teen fondly.  Unlike Miguel, it seems as though his right hand woman had a soft spot for the younger Spiders. 

“Did you finish all your missions?”

“Yup!”

“Did you file all the paperwork Miguel wanted?”

Gwen internally winced.  Well, if you stretch the definition of words like “paperwork” and “what Miguel wants”, then yes she technically did sort of do it.

“Yup.”  She popped her p.

She chuckled, clearly not buying Gwen’s shenanigans.  “Of course you can go visit Miles-“

Gwen perked up.  She didn’t actually think she’d get a yes, already mentally resigning to the fact she’d have to sneak out right under Miguel's nose.

“-right after you get the green light from Miguel, of course”

Gwen slumped over, defeated, all the bravado completely drained.

Getting Miguel to let Gwen do anything was like getting Charlotte and Miguel to admit their feelings for each other.

Mathematically impossible.

What would Hobie do in her shoes?

Gwen lifted her head, playing with a strand of her hair.  “You know, you shouldn’t let guys like Miguel boss you around like this.  I mean, you’re the Spiderwoman everyone looks up to around here.  Are you really going to let a man tell you what you can and cannot do?”

She blinked.  “Gwen, he's literally both of our bosses.”

The teen huffed, dejected.  “You know, Spiderwoman to Spiderwoman, this whole affair is a real loss to feminism.”

She snorted, done with these childish games.  “Gwen, ask Miguel.”

Well, shit.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

Miguel, like always, was not in the mood for Gwen's shenanigans.  “What do you want?  Can’t you see I’m busy?”

"Can I take some time off to go visit Miles?"  Gwen leisurely strolled around the room, touching, poking, and prodding at all the fancy science gear.

She knew that Miguel got antsy (Ha!) whenever anyone but Charlotte touched his stuff, but he didn't even give Gwen the decency to look even mildly annoyed.  "Go ask Charlotte, I'm busy."

She sighed, flopping her hands in front of her dramatically.  "She asked me to ask you."

"Then no." 

"Ughh, Miguel!"

"Go back to Charlotte, and tell her I told you to ask her."  Miguel stated, his words clipped in a very "and that's final" dad voice.  Gwen internally groaned.  It was a long trek back to the other Spider's office.  “It's like a billion miles away, Miguel.  It's crazy that you two don't have your offices next to each other.”

His fingers paused in their work, momentarily distracted.  Miguel toyed with the idea.  How nice would it be to be able to see her beaming smiles, the small crinkle in her eyes, her laughter as she gossiped with Lyla.  He could picture it now: the quiet moments in the dead of the night as they worked in comfortable silence together, her woops and hollers whenever they made a scientific breakthrough in whatever fun project they had together, the blazing passion in her eyes whenever they argued over the most inane subjects.

Miguel chewed on his bottom lip.  It would be nice getting to see her every day by his side, knowing that she was safe next to him.  Miguel could easily spend his whole day just watching her work whether in the office or in the field.

Gwen cleared her throat politely.  Miguel blinked out of his daze, almost forgetting that the annoying teen had even showed up to his office. “She’s distracting-I mean-it’s an distraction for me when other people are here.”

Gwen raised an arced eyebrow.  "Peter and Mayday are here like…all the time."

"Against my will.  Charlotte is the only one to have the manners to respect my privacy."

Gwen scowled.  Adults sucked.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

After begging, pleading, and whining, the other Spiderwoman did eventually fold and allow Gwen a two week vacation to go visit Miles.  Two weeks had come and gone in the blink of an eye.  Though she wished she could have spent more time with her boyfriend friend, she eagerly made a beeline straight to Charlotte's office.  She couldn't wait to gossip with her about her time with Miles.

With a skip in her step, Gwen didn't notice how the door to the older Spider's office was already ajar.  Her good mood made her blind to the muted blues and black watercolors that had painted the air around the entranceway. 

Silently cracking the door open further, Gwen paused in the doorway, not expecting to see the sight in front of her.  The usual joyous yellows and bright colors seeped into the walls of the room had dissipated, now replaced with muted blotched blue.  The other Spiderwoman was crumpled into a ball on the floor.  She could hear the quiet sobs of a woman trying to hide her sorrows in her hands. 

And for some reason, Miguel was here.

It was weird to see Miguel of all people comforting her.  Indeed, the big strong man looked so awkward.  As if he had no idea where to put his hands or what words to say.  His big hulking form was hunched over her protectively, completely shielding her from the rest of the word.  His arms hovered around her form as if terrified over the thought of touching her and yet unable to help himself otherwise.

"I'm sorry Mig, I shouldn't be troubling you with this."  She sniffed, voice thick with sorrow.  "It's just the anniversary of…you know…his death-"

"I know, I know,"  Miguel said phrases in Spanish too quick for Gwen to even understand.  Charlotte let out a rather wet laugh through her sobs.  No doubt, laughing at a joke Miguel told her.

Which…honestly made Gwen's stomach twist into knots.  She shouldn't be here.  It was one thing to see Charlotte like this.  But seeing Miguel so caring and vulnerable was…

….well she shouldn't be here.

Charlotte's eyes were a blotchy red.  God, she probably looked so horrendous to him.  "M-miguel, you shouldn't be here.  You always have so much on your plate.  You shouldn't have to worry yourself dealing with my stupid bullshit."

He clicked his tongue, annoyed at her words.  "Chiquita, no te voy a dejar solo así (I'm not going to leave you alone like this)."

Blessed with a sudden burst of confidence, he smoothed his thumb over her cheek, carefully avoiding pricking her with his talons.  Miguel wiped away her tears so gently it almost seemed like he was a completely different person.  "Mi Cielito (My sky), you're safe.  I'm here.  I won't like anything bad happen to you."

The cordial professional boundaries that they put between the both of them flew out of the window.  She slid forward, burying her face into his shoulder.  She inhaled shakily, trying to stem the flow of tears.  Miguel's presence was so soothing.  His warmth seeped through his skin into hers.

Gingerly, he shuffled on the couch, wrapping his arm around her.

Gwen, now satisfied that her friend (boss?) was well supported, gingerly tip toed out of the entranceway. 

It was about time those two love bugs (Ha) got their act together.  She couldn't wait to tell Pav.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

Charlotte didn't know how long they sat on the floor of her office together.  With only the steady rise and fall of Miguel's breathing keeping time, it could have been minutes or hours.  The once blurry dark world sharpened and refocused whenever she was with Miguel.  Blotchy inky blues that had settled in the room slowly faded away.

She sniffed gingerly.  It was too embarrassing to lift her head from Miguel's shoulder to look at him in the eye.  "I'm…I'm sorry.  God this is embarrassing, you're not supposed to see me like this."

For some reason, it stung to hear those words come out of her mouth: "not supposed to see me like this".  Had she been crying like this often?  All smiles and arrogance during the day, have they simply been another mask she wore?  To hide the tears that she had at night? 

Though Miguel couldn't judge her too harshly.  How often would he look at pictures of his daughter just to torture himself with a life that would never be his?

Well, it was time that she stopped moping on the floor.  "Come on, let's get you straightened out." Before she could protest, he leaned over, hooking one of his arms under the crook of her knee.  She gasped, momentarily off balance, throwing her arms around Miguel's thick neck.  He scooped her up in his arms, picking her up bridle style.  Miguel was trying his hardest to not touch her so familiarly that it would border on unprofessionalism.

Because really he would do this for any of the Spiders.  Like..well, certainly not Miles, or Peter but..well..

…well he definitely would…

Her shaking stopped.  The arms around his neck remained in place, selfishly not wanting to let go of him any time soon.  Miguel's chest was so warm against her.  She could feel his rapid heartbeat, a comforting presence against her cheek.  In his arms, she felt safe.

He didn't need to be able to look down at her to sense the rising blush on her face.  "Thank you, Miguel."  Her words were so soft, he could barely hear her.  "I'm sorry to put you in this position.  You're a good friend."

Miguel swallowed thickly.  That's right.  That's what they were: friends.  There was a million reasons why they couldn't be anything more than that. 

Though for the life of him, he couldn't come up with any.

She was so warm against him, a comforting reminder that he was still very much human.  It was like he was in a trance, as he carried her over to the couch.  How many times did he carry his wife to bed, as she sleepily cuddled against him?  How many times did he carry his daughter like this after she had fallen asleep in the middle of playing with her dolls?

"Are you okay?" she asked, snapping him out of his daze.  He could feel the featherlight brush of her lips against his chest as she spoke.

He tried to fight the blush rising on his cheeks.  He had got to stop daydreaming about her around people.  "I should be asking you that."  His voice was surprisingly soft and gentle. 

Gently (and reluctantly), he placed her on the couch in her office.  His eyes softened as he watched tuck her legs close to her chest, curling into a tight ball.

"Thank you.  I'm..better now.  I'm sorry for troubling you.  You don't have to stay with me."

Miguel stopped himself from pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.  If there was anyone in this whole building who knew what it was like to have the painful flashbacks, the nightmares, the dark memories...  He sighed, running his fingers through his wavy brown hair. 

He knew what it was like to sleep in a bed that was too large and too empty.  In a house that once held so much life and joy.  He knew what it was like to be alone.

Gingerly, he sat on the couch next to her.  Her head was so close to his thigh.  He resisted the urge to put her head in his lap.  "Go to sleep, mi corazón.  I'll be here to watch over you."

Her eyelids were heavy.  Crying her eyes out in front of her crush was more exhausting than battling the Vulture.  "Please, Miguel, you don't have to."

"No, I don't." Miguel agreed, his voice firm and steady.  "I want to.  Now go to sleep.  I'll be here when you wake."

Too tired to protest any future, she nodded sleepily.  As she drifted off into unconsciousness, she felt a familiar large palm resting on her head, comforting her even in her dreams. 

Part 1 Here

To Be Continued!

[parkminijiminie]

What is going on with Jimin, Jungkook and Jikook?

Warning: long post

I've been a BTS fan since early 2017. Back in the day, I ran this blog here, analyzing a lot of Jikook moments, but life sort of took over, and I stopped having the time for it. However, I never stopped being a fan and observing BTS and Jikook through the years. There's a lot said and written already about the supposed video of JK, but here are my two cents.

To me, the most logical explanation for that video is that this really is Jungkook. The layout of the apartment matches (yes, even the position of the security system, if you have ever watched JKs lives, you'd know that it actually is at his shoulder height, just like in the video), the dog looks like Bam, the couch is the same and this definitely looks like JK. There's also another video of the man in this apartment, alone, shirtless, and having a whole tattoo sleeve on his right arm just like JK. Obviously, we don't know for sure, but it looks like it's him. People say it was filmed in late Feb, early March, and I agree. JK had the same hair then, the outfits look warm, like winter clothes and not to forget, that when JK was stalked in his gym (late of February) there were a lot of fuss about a girl being there with him, so it all checks out in my book.

Now, what the video shows isn't that scandalous. A boy hugging a girl from behind and them playfighting/tickling each other or whatever. It isn't overly explicit. It could mean a lot of things, but it's clear the people are at the very least physically comfortable with each other. It's a short video. We don't know if they're even alone, but it looks like it. There are a number of possibilities for whom this person is to JK: a long-time girlfriend, a casual hook-up, a one night stand, or just a friend.

We'll probably never know for sure. What we do know is that this is an unacceptable invasion of privacy, and the person who took those videos should be sued for all they are worth. I hope we all agree on that, yes?

Now, if this girl is someone JK is dating/has dated/has slept with, where does that leave his and JM's relationship?

In my eyes, as someone who's observed them for literal years now, there's no way JM and JK have always had a strictly platonic relationship. Too much just doesn't add up. Sure, technically, they could be bestest friends with great chemistry, but as someone who is now 30 years old, I don't think I've seen this type of chemistry between people ever be just platonic. At times, it looked too much like sexual tension for it to easily be dubbed as "friendly".

My theory is this (keep in mind these are still just assumptions):

In 2017-2020, pre-Covid era, JM and JK spent A LOT of time together, basically all of it. BTS were super active, they didn't have any breaks. They were always working. Always on tour and doing smth else. JM and JK were pretty young back then (20-24) and this is typically the time when someone discovers their sexuality and starts experimenting, and I believe that at some point they did this together. They were best friends but also had this weird tension and air around them and I think they could've started a physical relationship back then. The members teasing them hear and there about being a couple, also kind of supports this, though of course, it doesn't prove anything.

Contrary to other people, I don't belive they only just fucked. It's very hard to have sex with someone who you are very close to otherwise, who you love and admire as a person, and not catch romantic feelings for them, so I think they did more than fucking. Whether they had a serious relationship or decided not to label it much, due to MS coming up, the group being in jeopardy or other reasons, I tend to think that other than sex, they also had feelings.

Side note: In any case, they were figuring thinks out about themselves as individuals, as well as a pair. I think maybe this is the time JM realized he is definitely bisexual (which he proudly expressed in his photobook of last year in my opinion). Idk what Jk figured out for himself, if anything.

Anyhow, by 2020‐2021 it seemed they had some sort of agreement about what/who they were to each other. At times they could have been on and off. There might have been other people/partners in-between, but I think they were mainly together by this point. It even looked like they lived together for some time. The fact they always took the same car and they were together on JKs birthday night when they first had number 1 on hot 100 sort of proves it. JM's birthday live in 2021 was also sus af (the way he was blushing while mentioning JK and their whole convos, very sus).

I think before Covid they had smth somewhat stable but then Covid hit. Their schedules changed, it was a tough period overall. Suddenly, they were not working and traveling so much, they were staying in SK. I think this was the time things started getting much more real and different. MS was also in the near horizon. Maybe one of them wanted a more committed relationship, and the other wasn't ready. Maybe they were both afraid. Maybe they tried and it didn't really work out. Maybe one finally realized his sexuality and the other had doubs. Whatever it was, the feelings of affection were still there. Chemistry as well. Proof: JM bday live in 2021 was just crazy, the way he blushed when JK was mentioned and the way the spoke to each other... man. Also, the way the were at PTD L.A. The way JK answered questions about JM etc.

So , all that connected them as people was still there, but I think their relationship come late 2021-early 2022 was definitely more unstable. Who knows what happened then. Personally, I don't believe in the theory that they opened their relationship, rather I believe by the second half of 2022, due to whatever reasons, things were simple mostly off between them. I believe they stayed this way all through the second half of the year and at least the first 4 months of 2023. They were friends, their families still loved and supported each other (JK's mom made seaweed soup for JM's bday, which one does for family) but that's about it. They weren't living together anymore, as well.

The beginning of 2023 we saw a very busy JM and a very not busy JK. Sure, they still commented on their welives but it seemed they didn't meet each other that often. Jm was working, JK was at home and occasionally with Tae. Yeah, JK watched a lot of JM content and often invited him over, but he also didn't know when his promotions will be over and it seemed they haven't seen each other for some time and JK was missing JM. I think if they truly were a serious couple back then, they would still have found the time to meet each other no matter how busy one or the other was, especially considering they live in the same city, and it wasnt the case. I don't think JK would have to resort to watching hours of JM's content just to satisfy his need-for-JM thirst, if they were a couple back then.

So, yeah, I think they were not more than friends by this point, for sure, which also ties up pretty well with the timing of the recent leaked video (February-March). To me it seems that JK and JM probably saw other people in that period, at least JK, JM was pretty damn busy then. Maybe they had some serious partners even, maybe just hook-ups here and there. Maybe this was JK's time to explore more of his heterosexual side, who knows. I don't think he stopped caring for JM in some capacity. In fact it kind of looked like he longed for his company but for one reason or another, they were simply not that much in each other's lives in the first quarter of 2023.

But then something weird happened around June-July. First JM is all scratched up from something (presumably Bam) indicating he saw JK and spent time with him. Then Seven came out and JM flew to NY. There they spend a long, fun weekend amid promotions. It wasn't a secret but they seemed to want to keep private and didn't really want to talk about it , judging by the way JK answered the question about JM being in NY as well. JM was practically silent. Then they returned and that welive happened. The one where they openly flirted, JM said he could handle JK naked, JK blushed like a school girl and tried everything in his power to get to JM but JM said "I'm not that easy". That welive. Idk about you, but that welive didn't seem platonic to me at all and if I had been JK's partner at the time, I would definitely be very angry with his behaviour. I don't think JK is disrespectful and a cheater, and neither is JM for that matter, so I believe there's no way any of them had a partner when that welive happened. I simply refuse to belive they are that type of people.

So, my conclusion is they were both single then and something definitely happend in July and NY. They returned somewhat different and they still kind of are. Jk posted pics of NY to Twitter for the first time. Jm shared a pic from then for JKs bday (shirtless, as we all know) and then recently another pic from a boat that could have been from back then, as well. The whole way they're acting offline and online strangely reminds me a lot of the time after their trip to Tokyo, actually. The way JM has been posting about JK very much give me nostalgia about the way he used to post Jikook often in 2017-2018 before he withdrew from social media. But maybe that's just me 🤷‍♀️

Anyway, to finish this long post I will say this. I don't know what Jikook were and are to each other and unless, it is explicitly denied the person in the video is JK, I will believe that it's him. But also, unless it is confirmed he currently has a girlfriend, I will have my doubts. The video is old and in any case, it doesn't prove much other than the fact JK is maybe into women (solely or also into them). This video though doesn't automatically negate everything I've seen between Jikook through the years. In some ways, it confirms what I've been thinking for a long time now. Unless JM and JK personally shut down any rumors about them and deny any romantic connection or confirm a relationship with someone else , I still believe that at some point in their lived their relationship crossed the platonic line.

Whether that was in the past or is currently true, I only can guess, but to me there's no way these two were always, all these years, just only friends.

For now, I will observe how JK, JM and Hybe are acting after the leaked videos and go from there. It will also be indicative.

Peace.

[kiragecko]

Other people are allowed opinions, but does one count as a Tim fan if Tim&Dick aren’t the favorite team? I’m not so sure! (Technically fine one can, but. It does seem wrong.)

I think we might be OLD fans. Pre-Red Robin, it would be hard to read about the Batfamily without centering those 2. They kind of WERE the Batfamily. Cass had just joined, Jason was pretty insistent he wasn’t coming back, Damian wasn’t there. If you wanted siblings, they were your option, and they were AMAZING.

Dick had put so much work into gaining Tim’s trust and getting him to open up. He’d taken a kid who was almost completely self reliant and self-contained, and taught him to call when he was feeling depressed, or wanted romantic advice. Dick called him little brother, and ruffled his hair, blindfolded him to ride on trains, and teased him about rats as the wriggled through sewers. Dick went to Tim’s Young Justice parent-teacher interview!

Tim, on the other hand, was so good at being quietly supportive, and limiting the amount Dick isolated himself. He’s the only Bat that regularly went to Bludhaven, to provide Nightwing a patrol partner, and Dick a movie buddy. He talked with Dick about things that were bothering his older brother, and then backed off if Dick asked - both of which are unusual in Dick’s life.

They were siblings in a way that we don’t get a huge amount of in media. Neither was a kid, the relationship wasn’t full of cuddles and proclamations of affection (despite fandom), it wasn’t loud and full of fighting. Neither was a stand-in parent (though they both tried, at times). Dick was allowed by the narrative to mess up, to fail Tim multiple times, without being a “bad” big brother.

They’re the reason I got into the Batfamily.

-

I think Young Justice or Teen Titans fans could probably love Tim without realizing he isn’t himself without Dick Grayson. And no one in the last decade has any reason to think they’re anything special together.

Also, the Red Robin Series of Incidents seems to have resonated really deeply with a lot of fans, and their issues with their own siblings. I can’t really imagine a sibling relationship where I can’t talk things through, and help my younger sibling heal, but I’m aware that there are a lot of relationships that aren’t the same. There seem to be a lot of fans who find Dick’s actions unforgivable.

Dick and Damian are now a much more prototypical (media) sibling relationship - media LOVES relationships where one side spends most of their time being perfect so the other can heal, and only struggles where the other can’t see. I can see why. I want someone like that in my life sometimes, too.

Cass managed to claim a large part of Tim’s heart very quickly, and I’m really happy about it.

Jason has been given a lot of work by the fandom, and has multiple interesting sibling relationships because of it. I’m fascinated by what Tim and Jason could be.

There are so many possibilities, now! It’s great.

I just wish modern fandom had seen enough of Dick and Tim that they could see that The Series Of Events After Bruce’s ‘Death’ wasn’t all these two were. That they knew enough about (my interpretation of :P ) old Tim to understand that Tim doesn’t hold those kind of grudges. (It’s actually one of his weaknesses.) That they understood that Tim built a lot of his identity on a foundation accidentally set by Dick, and after finding out, Dick chose to make that foundation stronger, and that they built something strong enough to survive almost anything.

[brionysea]

Question for you: How do you think a one-on-one convo between madwheeler pre-s4 would go from Mike's pov?--like how do you think he would treat/talk with Max, who's isolating herself/depressed? Because I've seen a lot of fics with that premise, but it always seems to be them only talking about their relationships (whether it be Byler or Mileven in Mike's case, or Lumax with Max. Which I don't have an issue with, it's just not always the main focus I want on Madwheeler), but rather how Mike perceives Max post s-4. Sorry if this is rambly and doesn't make sense, I'm struggling with getting in Mike's head, and you're obviously very good at interpreting his character.

answer for you: according to the one (1) season 4 episode where max and mike were both in hawkins, the dynamics with max and the party pre-s4 seem to be as follows:

lucas chases after her at school and tries to get her to talk about her feelings and/or go to his basketball games. she's not into it, but she listens to the games on the radio at home anyway

dustin chases after her at school and tries to get her to hang out with the group (hellfire) (max doesn't seem to like eddie) (it's a d&d group - a game she had no interest in before she lost all capability to care about the things she previously enjoyed). she's not into it, makes fun of him for missing her sarcasm, and skates away

and mike, instead of doing any of that and making her feel cornered (or worse, pitied) when high school is already bad enough, leaves her the hell alone.

some people (non-madwheeler understanders) would think that means that mike just doesn't care or their friendship isn't Like That. those people would be incorrect. bothering each other and cheering each other up while they're in the Mental Health Trenches is what max and mike do. just look at the skateboard scene

madwheeler always have their Friendship Moments when no one else is around. the gym scene, the conversation in the byers kitchen, when mike called max's house and nobody else could hear both sides, when max radioed mike at the sauna, watching el get a coke can out of the bin together, after they both got knocked out by billy. it's a very private friendship, so playing into the "there's more here than meets the eye" concept and having them possibly share things with each other that they otherwise wouldn't share with anyone makes a lot of cohesive sense - even if it's just in a "distracts you from The Horrors until you blurt it out in a fit of annoyance" way, like what happened when max first heard about el from mike

people just think it's all fighting because that's all they see, but even that is always in an attempt to make each other better. and it always works eventually (although if we're being technical, the dynamic is max trying to make mike better, while mike tries to keep max safe). mike wouldn't fight with max when she's depressed though, i believe that's only a yearly occasion for the single week we jump back into these people's lives when tensions are high as a kite. if he was around during season 4 he would have fought with max over her willingness to self sacrifice (you know, like a hypocrite)

simply put, mike doesn't push because he gets it, which is exactly why max tolerates him more than the other two - she pushed through the crowd to stand next to mike at the pep rally while she ran away from the others when they seeked her out later - and might even open up a little. s2 mike and s4 max, both dealing with the trauma of witnessing a death (where the person's last words were directed at them) and feeling responsible for it while the world moves on and nobody else seems to care, are the same. mike knows that max doesn't want to hang out like everything's normal or talk about her feelings and admit that it's not. especially not with lucas, who has plenty of reasons to hate billy, and max is selfless enough to not want to add her own messiness into it. max's mother's distance would resonate with mike too

the thing about mike interacting with any of his friends is that he's the most persistent person who's ever lived. he called el every day for a year; he probably did the same for will after the byers moved; he wouldn't stop radioing lucas in season 1 until he answered; he would not shut up about trying to get in contact with dustin in season 3. mike doesn't give up. what this means for max, is that once he's sure she won't mind him being there (and even if she does, a little bit, but that might just be the Performatively Hating Each Other part before they get back to enjoying each other's company, so he's gonna stick it out regardless), he'd kinda just... be there. and continue to be there. they might talk, they might not, but he knows that it sucks to be alone like this and he's not gonna let that happen to max if he can help it

this last bit is kind of just a headcanon of mine, but i like to imagine that if mike ever searched for an Activity that max actually enjoyed (dustin's got the right idea, but at the same time the wrong idea), he would try to bug her into teaching him how to skateboard. their conversation in the gym was heading in that direction before el interrupted, so there's the connection to the Mental Health Trenches and implicitly returning the favour of that kindness and moment of connection (even though mike really wasn't doing great pre-s4 either, but whatever), and something about the "bambi on ice" line in lenora makes me think it could be something max said to him when he fell over once

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: First Kiss

(A/N: Pre relationship, set during the undefined length of time between Dras Leona and the final conflict, but before Eragon and Arya become a couple. We're ignoring the elf guards following Eragon and Saphira all the time, when Arya and Glen are around they are let off the leash for some more privacy.

This started as a short and ended up being about 2k words, so it's technically within the range of the 'full' fics I've written for MIC in the past. So...I'm having a mental crisis trying to categorize it.)

~~~~

Roran always talked about how his first kiss with Katrina was magical. Life changing. The brightest memory in his darkest times.

Eragon couldn’t wait for the one day he would get his first kiss. 

He was pretty damn sure today was not going to be that day.

Arya darted forward again, the feint quite nearly catching him until he saw the familiar yet nearly imperceptible twitch that her right shoulder did right before she changed that swooping maneuver towards his legs into a devastating uppercut. Their sparring match had been going on for hours at that point, from mid morning to nearly evening now. They both were tired, drenched in sweat, scuffed and bruised and both absolutely refusing to yield. 

And he saw it, just in the briefest of moments when she danced away from him, spinning Wyrda back to her starting stance. An opening. A real, bonafide, actual opening. 

Eragon. Was. Going. To. Win. 

It wasn’t going to be graceful. Or sung about by tacticians for years to come. It was sloppy, really. Desperate. But while he knew Arya took risks in battles, used her body as a weapon almost as much as her blade or the menagerie of guns at her disposal, he knew that she knew he wasn’t as eager to do the same. And she would never expect him to try one of her moves.

So he chucked Brisingr to the side with a wild roar and tackled her the second the opening presented itself again.

Arya yowled when she realized what he was doing, beating on the back of his head even before they hit the ground in a tangle of limbs and teeth. His hand came up, blind but certain, and connected with her wrist as Wyrda’s pommel came down, jolted the tendons there so that the blade spun away from her weakened grip. He grabbed her wrists and shoved them under her body, beneath her lower back just as they finally impacted the dusty soil of the training field.

From his perch on her hips the elf was neatly pinned, his knees trapping her hands from escaping and his hands planted to either side of her head. Arya struggled for a few more moments, tried to buck him off, snapped her teeth in frustration. 

She settled after the ferocious display, fiery eyes boring into his with equal parts respect and absolute indignation. Eragon just smiled triumphantly, cheeks hurting from the size of his wild grin.

The young Rider leaned forward, practically buzzing with excitement at his victory. “Hey. Arya. Guess what? I win.” 

Ever elegant in defeat, a word she oft pretended to not know the definition of, Arya huffed and blew a stray shock of hair from her face. She’d never let him have the last laugh, especially not like this. 

“So…” Her voice drawled, nearly deadpan but still with the same arch of question as the raise of her eyebrow. “Is this the part where we kiss, or…?”

He knew exactly what she was doing. And damn it, he was going to throw her off just as badly. “I donno.” His grin turned decidedly cheeky as he leaned in further. He didn’t know where the husky undertone came from, but it sold the bit even further. “Do you finally want to kiss me, Arya?” A flash in her eyes, something he had never seen, mixed in with what could have been guilt, a hint of shame even, there was a flash of want, before the mask came down again. He smiled, and he knew that she knew he saw it by the tightening of her jaw, annoyance glimmering past the mask. “Oh, wow. Is this what it takes to get you–”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his playful teasing. Arya was suddenly up on her elbows, and her lips locked to his. Soft. Warm. Insistent. Desperate. Open mouthed and hungry. 

He could taste the salt from her sweat and his mouth opened to her and the whole world was just them. It wasn’t explosive like Roran always said it was, it was warmth and a glow in his chest. Her hand on the back of his neck. He found his hand curling beside her ear, burying his fingers in her wild hair and mess of a braid after their hours of fighting. 

Fighting.

Wait.

How was her hand on his neck? 

Eragon broke the kiss with a frustrated groan and dropped his head to Arya’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s so not fair.”

Arya just laughed, eyes bright and unaware of the way the sound brought sunlight to Eragon’s mind. The warded knife braced against her hip pressed hard against the young Rider’s belly, pointing straight under his ribs towards his heart. 

“It was a good tackle.” She patted the back of his head, and for a brief moment he felt her lean her cheek against his temple. There was something there, he felt it, he knew. And he knew she felt it too, the way that she pulled back. The tiny unsure tilt to the smirk she gave him when he raised his head and smacked his shoulder. “Alright, ger’off me. You’re heavy.”

Eragon obliged her. In the corner of his mind he could hear Saphira laughing. There was a thread of concern there as well, a bit of anger at the elf for doing such a thing when it wasn’t serious nor when she had been so adamant about their friendship remaining just that. He reached out, sent her an assurance that he was okay, that he knew what was going on now. Saphira’s reluctant acceptance of that was still underlain with poorly stifled chuckling at his predicament. 

Arya took the Rider’s offered hand and let him pull her to her feet. They brushed each other off and collected their fallen weapons, shoulders bumping as they meandered back to where Glenwing was watching them with Saphira, Brom ambling up just as his son and former student arrived. 

“Hey, don’t feel too bad.” Glen’s smile was damn near splitting his face as he clapped Eragon on the shoulder. “That was a good tackle. Even I didn’t see it coming. And you’re not the first to fall for that trick, believe me!”

Eragon snorted, entirely happy to turn the tables. “Oh really? Arya, shame on you. Kissing Glen like that. You’re practically siblings!”

Arya made a distinct gagging noise at the insinuation as the medic let out a bark of laughter. “Stars above, no! She’s killed three men like that in combat!”

Saphira racked her throat at the flare of panic in Eragon’s mind for a split second as her Rider whirled to face Arya. ‘Poor Eragon, his favorite elf has kissed other men.’ 

“She what?” 

Arya threw her hands up. “It was that or die! And it worked!”

Brom’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline, voice overlapping in the hubbub as he slowed to a stop. “What did I just walk up to?” 

Glen wasn’t finished with tormenting the duo, completely ignoring Brom’s approach. “Not to mention the one woman.”

“WHAT?” 

“GLEN!” Glenwing cackled and nearly lost his balance when Arya shoved him. 

“What is going on?” Brom caught the elf by his mechanical forearm and levered him upright. “Did I miss something?”

“Glen, don’t you dare–”

“Arya kissed Eragon to distract him and steal his victory.” Brom’s eyebrows couldn’t go any higher, but that didn’t stop them from trying. 

‘And now Glenwing is regaling us of previous times our dignified combat liaison has used the tactic. On both male and female combatants.’

Arya covered her face. “It was a really dangerous situation, okay?” Eragon was still trying to get words out of his flapping mouth, and her next protest didn’t do him any favors. “Look, it was Black Hand, she was really about to stab me, I–”

“WHAT?!”

Glenwing howled with laughter at Eragon and Brom’s reaction, entirely unable to get in a breath big enough to clear up the misunderstanding. He had to sit down, wiping away tears, as Arya looked up in confusion before her eyes flared wide. 

“NO! NO, nonononono, not her! Not her! One of the organization, one of– oh for fucksake!”

It was a good hour before the little group dispersed. Brom was only checking in before a planned early dinner with Jeod and Helen, hoping to further smooth things over for the couple with several stories of Longshanks’ bravery and importance over some fine wine pilfered from Nasuada’s stores. Glen was off to the medical tents, having promised the younger Dr. Vilks his help in sterilizing equipment and tending to a few of the more difficult patients. 

Eragon and Saphira extended an invitation to Arya for a short flight over the camp before dropping her off at the cluster of tents that surrounded where the dragon and Rider had set up. Tired, far more sore than she would ever admit, and never one to turn down flying when Saphira was offering, the elf gladly took Eragon’s hand up into the saddle.

As they flew, Saphira stretching her wings and doing lazy curves and waves around and over the currents that rose from the numerous fires around the nearby cook tents, Eragon felt Arya’s arm tighten where it was wrapped around his waist. 

“Hey. I’m sorry about earlier.” He tilted his head back to better hear her. “That…. It wasn’t fair or right for me to do that. To you. Knowing how you feel.” He could feel her frown in the air between them as it rushed by. She was genuinely upset by this. “I took it too far. And it was wrong.”

The feeling of her lips on his hadn’t faded in the slightest. The look Arya had before she had done it hadn’t retreated from Eragon’s mind either. There was something there. Something that wasn’t being put on for the ruse, something that she hadn’t been able to hide because maybe…maybe she hadn’t been aware it was there. But after. He knew she had noticed it after. And the sudden jolt of uncertainty and fear in her eyes….  

Arya was always so much more open in a fight, inhibitions vanishing into the air like gunsmoke. She couldn’t lie to herself when she fought, the elf had told him as much. So maybe….

Eragon pushed it all aside. He wouldn’t shatter their friendship, not when he valued it so much, by pushing what he had seen. What he thought he saw. 

“It’s okay.” A sudden broad smile split his face as he fell back into their usual comradery. “I know it’s not the way I probably would have wanted, but at least I can say I got my first kiss from you in the end.” 

Saphira’s mind nudged theirs, joy of flight thrilling through them with her sly question. ‘I’m sure Eragon is just dying to know. How was he? Any complaints? Pointers? Compliments?’

“Saphira!” 

Arya just laughed, completely unperturbed by Saphira’s teasing. “Was that really your first kiss?”

“My one and only.” 

Despite the jovial attitude, he could feel her gaze regarding him, studying the side of his face that she could see. At the barest of his periphery Eragon saw her hand come up, and a trill of unbidden excitement jolted his heart when he saw her touch two fingers to her lips. Eyes unfocused for the barest of moments as the corners of her lips curved up into a smile he could not quite place. “Not bad. Not bad at all.” Her hand dropped to grip Eragon’s shoulder for balance as Saphira tilted to avoid a pair of indignant ravens. “Especially for a first.”

She was back to teasing him now, the rhythm returning easily. They could be themselves again, forget it all. 

Well. Forget most of it. 

Eragon couldn’t help himself. He turned to face forward again, still grinning like a fool. “My first kiss. Better than Roran’s.” He wiggled his eyebrows despite her not being able to see them. “There was tongue.”

Arya laughed and lightly punched him in the side. “Not a word, Eragon!”

[garthofshayeris]

How can all of Garth’s personality, relationships, and history became irrelevant to the current comics runs? What happened?

Great question! After Flashpoint happened, the Dc Universe reset. For a lot of comics, there were no major character or lore changes. However, the Aquaman comics got a major overhaul.

It’s important to note that Aquaman lore has changed over the years, but the changes were either slow or the kept much of the same characterization, but updated certain aspects. For example, although Death of a Prince takes place in the Bronze Age of comics, it was playing off dynamics already established in the Silver Age, and the story was tweaked slightly when the post-crisis reboot happened, so the events were still relevant in Volumes 4-6 (80s-early 2000s). The lore expanded to say, these major elements are still here! We have changed some things, and here they are! And this is how it effected what you might be familiar with, etc.

Then comes the New52. In order to make the comics easier for newcomers to read, about 90% of the characters and Atlantean history were removed completely from canon. This includes Garth, who was the longest-running humanoid supporting character!! (Topo the octopus is the longest-running returning character, and for the record they also got rid of him)

They re-did Arthur’s backstory (adapted to something similar to his Silver Age origins) and some characters, like Orm, were completely re-done as well to fit the new lore. They did not do this for Garth; in fact, every major element of his character that tied him to the story was removed. His kingdom I mentioned in that last ask? Gone. Atlan, the wizard who trained him? Gone (although they do re-use that name, the New52 character named Atlan is not Atlan from previous stories). The rumor about purple eyes? Actually not gone, but they did completely change what it meant and when we meet an entire community of purple-eyed Atlanteans, Garth is not among them. (Purple eyes have been an element to his character since his introduction, btw)

“But comicvine says Garth appeared in the New52!” I hear you cry. Technically true. But here’s a fun fact: they “teased” his return on the last page of one comics, and his design was so off from all previous versions that the fans did not know who he was supposed to be. Why? He was wearing a color Garth was never seen in, sporting a strange tattoo on the wrong side of his face (those lines aren’t a tattoo in pre-flashpoint btw…it’s a scar, that Atlan gave him) and because Garth had always, always, always been the child that Arthur adopted…the fact that he showed up as a fully formed adult with no connection to Arthur was so strange that even the Aquafans did not make the connection!!

This character, a mercenary who never spoke to Arthur, appeared a few more times before being quietly re-set in Rebirth.

Now, let’s recall that the comics removed all aspects of this character’s connection to the story, including the very fact that he was essentially Arthur’s adopted child. This is STILL TRUE in Rebirth. I cannot think of a time that Garth spoke directly to Arthur in any of the comics, but Mera said once that Arthur basically paid for Garth to go to Magic Underwater Wizard College, which is something that exists for some reason. Also he dropped out of Magic Underwater Wizard College because his girlfriend died, but we don’t know that woman’s name and he has literally never brought it up outside that single comics.

I want to say, I am not against changing backstories. Garth has had two and a half backstories since the 60s! But they grow and expand to fit the new world they live in. The writers took time and energy, they poured their hearts into making this new character appeal to their brave new world. But DC has not given Garth that same grace these past 15ish years. They had so, so many chances as well! They could have rewritten him in a way that was satisfying to his old fans. But they do not give a shit about Garth.

You see. DC wants to trick you. They want to say “everything is canon now” and not have to put in any effort. except my dears, the Aquaman comics are so complicated that they cannot exist at the same time. Because sure, maybe we can say Garth is no longer royal, because that kingdom his parents ruled no longer exists. But without that bloodline, why is he the most powerful Atlantean sorcerer? Did he never complete a highly emotional task of claiming his birthright, and accepting the death of Tula so he can heal his emotional wounds? Oh. Tula is alive? And now related to Orm? And they hardly know each other? Well, he just went to Magic College and he’s good for absolutely no reason at all. Is he still close with Arthur? I’m not sure. Arthur paid for college, but has never spoken to Garth. Garth is absent from all major life events in the Aquafamily. He has never met Arthur’s biological kid. He has no useful role inside a comic that he used to be an integral part of, his usual role has been split among others. So there goes his backstory. There go his emotional connections. Goodbye to the major emotional highs and lows as well. Goodbye to his personality traits, intentionally written to be played off of Arthur’s. Goodbye to any kind of role in the narrative; when you can replace his character with a nameless extra, is he really part of the story?

And when you remove all of that…what is there to like about this character, anyway?

[captainderyn]

Kiss prompts for whoever speaks up: …as a ‘yes’.

This took me forever to answer, but Five and Roslynd (pre-relationship...sort of) spoke up! Thank you for the ask :)

Five/Roslynd

--

Staring at the name written in bold text at the top of the dossier, Roslynd wondered exactly what strings of fate had crossed as she wove through the hallways of Imperial Intelligence headquarters.

Her sharply polished boots clicked across the tile with each measured step, far steadier than her heart, which galloped away out of control beneath her pressed jacket.

It had been years. The coincidence would have been funny had she not run into Rhys, now designated Cipher Seven, and received an off the record briefing with details Keeper had left out of the dossier.

Many details.

Roslynd paused at a nondescript office door, closed, the windows into the hallway tinted so it was difficult to make out more than the shadow sitting behind the desk.

Though she raised her hand to rap her knuckles on the door, she paused and glanced once more at the dossier.

Designation: Cipher Five

Legal Name: Valetyn A. Slovoko

The name plate on the door read Cipher Five, followed by a hand written note tacked beneath listing out when he'd be in office.

She knew she was stalling, rocking side to side, but she inspected the note. His handwriting had always been frustratingly neat where hers had always been rough scrawl, his letters still slanted ever so slightly to the right. Figures he'd still hand write everything when he could.

If she stood out here any longer he'd probably come and investigate, there was no way he hadn't seen her shadow pass by the window. She let her knuckles fall thrice against the door.

"Come in." The familiarity of his voice struck deep in her chest, tugging at long buried strings.

She pressed the pad to the side of the door frame and it slid open with a soft swish. A rush of cool air from the vent in the ceiling washed over her, sending a shiver down her back.

Valetyn's office was exactly what she would expect it to be. Clean kept, bare bones, but pockets of himself hidden away. She recognized the old globe of Dromund Kaas on a shelf behind his desk. She distinctly remembered every time he'd snapped at her to quit spinning it when he'd been trying to study and she'd long grown bored of the tedious readings.

The harsh overhead lights were switched off in favor of two lamps, lit with soft yellow bulbs, enveloping his office in a cozy wash of light in contrast with the gloom outside. Why hadn't she thought of bringing lamps into her office?

Seconds ticked by with her silence and she knew she should say something, snap a salute even if she technically out ranked him, anything to not make things awkward. Though the door had hissed open, he hadn't ceased typing. The keyboard clacks were distracting.

Her mouth was bone-dry, her eyes locked on Valetyn. Her brain was spinning in circles, fumbling several different words into an unintelligible tangle.

He broke the silence first, flicking his wrist to check his watch, "If you've got something to say, say it quick, I have a meeting in...well, now."

The bluntness, she couldn't stop her soft chuckle, "Glad to see you're still one for pleasantries."

He paused, head whipping up. She froze beneath his gaze that fixed on her, watched transfixed as his eyes narrowed, then softened, his brows drawing low. Once more he glanced at his watch, then clicked on his monitor before his eyes snapped back to her.

She might as well be pinned in place by that look. The years gone by had dampened the memory of how intense his presence was.

"Fixer Fourteen?" Though formal, the edge smoothed from his voice.

"I'm she." Roslynd shifted her datapad from arm to arm, daring to step deeper into his office. The door whoosed closed behind her as she moved from the motion sensor.

A sense of intimacy hung in the closed space, she tried to shake it off, "It's good to see you Val."

"That's classified."

Her brows knit, "...what?"

"My name." He closed something off of his monitor and pushed his chair back to stand, "That's classified. It's Five."

Rhys had mentioned Five had his...tendencies. Things he'd latched onto over the last decade of service. He'd mentioned other things as well, some more concerning than others.

"Alright then...Five." She pressed her lips together at that, "It's my understanding that Keeper had assigned me to take over for your previous fixer. It appears we'll be working together again."

If she wasn't mistaken, a ghost of a smile flitted across his face. But that couldn't be right, it was gone before she could catch it.

Their meeting was brief, it had been timed to be an introduction as if they were strangers, not the reunion of two old friends or...wherever they had stood when he'd left for his first assignment.

While she should've been listening without distraction as he explained his work preferences, how he worked most effectively, she couldn't help reconciling this Valetyn with the one she'd known.

He'd always been handsome in a refined, old fashioned way, but the grey coming in at his temples, the crows feet forming at the creases of his eyes, had aged him like fine wine and it did little to help her focus. Valetyn always looked like he would be more at home in a plush library with a glass of whiskey than the gleaming chrome of Intel.

Rhys hadn't lied about the effect this work had on him though. While Rhys was all healing scars and a heavier build, Valetyn was sharp lines and dark smudges under his eyes.

"Fourteen, are you listening to me?" Her designation swept over her and Valetyn repeated himself, "Fourteen?"

She blinked, realizing too late she'd been staring at the clean pressed lines of his uniform, how it was either better fitted than those issued by the Academy or he'd filled out, "Sorry, I promise I've been listening."

It was nice to know she still had a type. Her cheeks heated. His lips most certainly twitched up at the corners now before that too flitted away.

"I'm looking forward to being a team again." Roslynd cleared her throat, "And maybe getting to know each other again, covering these last several years."

If she could pick things up with Rhys like a day hadn't gone by, maybe the same could happen with Val. If time hadn't changed them both too much.

A chime sounded from the monitor on Five's desk and irritation settled across his features, hardening his eyes and deepening the lines across his forehead.

Roslynd made to take a step back, glancing back towards the door and checking her own watch, "I should let you get back to it, seems like Keeper has you booked."

Valetyn grimaced, leaning across his desk to click something several times over until the chiming stopped. She was reaching for the door when he caught her hand, her fingertips almost grazing the button.

He paused, wrapping his fingers around hers in a gentle squeeze, and his eyes darted between their hands, her, and the door. Then he blinked and before she registered what he was doing, his lips brushed across the back of her hand.

"I'm looking forward to working together, Roslynd."

The way he said her name washed over her in a rush of heat, rising up her cheeks. His monitor began chiming again insistently and he scowled back towards his desk.

"We'll meet up later." Roslynd managed to get out with some semblance of normalcy, mashing the door button with a hand that didn't want to work. Her skin was alight where his lips had brushed.

Valetyn gave a nod, alright slinging himself back into his chair. Whatever glimmer of energy she'd seen flash through him when recognizing her had drained out of him.

She slipped out the door, letting it close behind her before she let out a breath, tucking her datapad under her arm so she could press her chilly hands to her flaming cheeks.

"How'd it go, Ros?" She jumped, the datapad slipping from beneath her arm. It clattered to the ground and she swore.

"Dammit, Rhys!"

"Stars, Ros, you're redder than a Korribani sunburn, did it go that bad?"

Glowering at him, she grabbed his arm and tugged him out of earshot of Five's office, "No not bad, idiot, could you say that any louder?"

Rhys trotted after her, grinning from ear to ear, "Ooh, I see. So I see you've still got it bad for--"

"Shut up, Rhys." She warned, glancing around pointedly for any other agents milling around. It didn't take much to get the rumor mill turned in this office, especially in a division as small as the ciphers. Nothing would help her working relationship with Five than putting him into the spotlight ten minutes after she'd stumbled back into life.

"Fine." Rhys held up a hand in surrender, "But after hours? Meet me at the bar on the corner of Tenth and Quadrant and you're going to have to tell me exactly what he did."

"Fine." Roslynd grumbled, tucking her hand close to herself. She swore she could still feels his lips on her skin. It was benign, chivalrous in that infuriating way of Val's, but filled with so much promise. Clearer than any words he could've said.

That whatever bond they'd built, whatever comradery they'd shared, wasn't completely lost.

[gerrydelano]

how's my man danny doing in dah 👀? do the fey also have a circus, or is danny a member of the court or something now :0?

ren voice WELL. he's doing. Much

they're not a circus, he's technically part of nikola's unseelie court, but his warlock patron........ is lye. he made a pact with her to protect him and keep him from being just Eaten or Whatever Else They Do In The Unseelie Court Holy Fuck because she took a liking to him and eventually wanted to assimilate him into their side of things somehow.

the first time they find him, they don't even know it. martin talks with this random fey and he's so focused on saying the right things and not getting Gotten that he doesn't even process that it's him (and to he fair he hasn't seen him in almost a decade). the next time they find him, a whopping five years later, he's with lye and it goes about as well as you'd expect. we are still working out how they'd manage to trick her into releasing his name but once that happens Oh Boy does she go full beast mode. it's terrifying. even danny is actually scared of her for once. she chases them a while and eventually they manage to "lose" her but boy does she come back. multiple times.

but now he has pointy ears and doesn't appear to have aged a day and it's extremely unnerving for everyone who knew him. they treat him like he's like 18 still and he's SO pissed about it because he is literally 26. treat me like an adult already. (chilchuck moment). until one day he gets cornered when they're attacked by some bandits and he rips ones throat out with his scary teeth mode and he makes alligator hissing sounds and they're all like Well! I Guess He Can Take Care Of Himself After All! Hm!!!!

there's a lot of Jon Plot that overtakes the middle of the story so we lose a bit of danny specific stuff aside from small moments and whatnot but he and martin do manage to form a relationship eventually which is kind of hilarious this time because ngl like. martanny would never work in a pre-circus world. martin could never keep up with pre-ptsd danny. me and ren talked about this at Length last night so i'll cut it short and say it's almost dependent on danny needing to narrow himself and seek stability which martin, as a redemption paladin in this, can still offer even though it's in a very different way than PBR. it takes them FOREVER to get there, and for good reason. and when danny inevitably outlives everyone he ends up going back to the feywilds for a hot minute and just pops out to keep an eye on the next generation and be everybody's mysterious cryptid fairy godguy.

[kiivg]

Do you have any additional Wardens, Hawkes, and Inquisitor OCs? Or are the ones seen on your blog the sole iterations

.Kind of? 🤔. Imean my characters are linked with specific events that happen so changing them out would affect what I consider to be my world state; like Goddard Trevelyan is present in the Battle of Denerim and saves Andrastopher Cousland’s life, which makes sense because Goddard is serving penance in the Fereldan army, hence why he’s there. Whereas I feel like an Adaar wouldn’t have a place there, (re: Sten being the only Qunari in Ferelden apparently??) I mean Lavellan could be there as an original member of the Dalish clan in DAO assuming you kept them alive (I didn’t haha) or Cadash could be a Legion of the Dead member who helped with the battle and then left the order to remain topside.

.But then with Goddard, Andrastopher asks Anora to give him a secret boon (in return for saving his life) which in turn allows Goddard to ask for his freedom to return home to rule his bannorn, and then eventually become Inquisitor. Ofc I could just say some random person saved Andrastopher and maybe Goddard simply went home after serving penance and lived happily with his wife and children, and then had to endure crippling sadness knowing his youngest son died at the hands of the Inquisition, and never knowing his bastard son either, and then descending into madness knowing he had failed his child and swore to avenge him by turning against the Inquisition and possibly the Chantry and in turn losing his faith and driving House Trevelyan into the ground 👹💣💥. Or he could not go home, suffer the same knowledge, and avow to destroy the Fereldan monarchy for keeping him indebted and not being there to save his son.

.With Hawke he’s kind of interchangeable because his storyline is kind of pre-written as you’re always going to be Hawke the Eldest Sibling and certain events will always happen. But I do like Doherty more than Marcus (my previous Hawke) because I get to make his life sadder as he sides with the Templars to eradicate blood magic in the Kirkwall Circle and then offers to sacrifice himself in place of Anders (who he has already forced to flee) whereas Marcus always sided with the Templars to protect Templar!Carver. Personally I love siding with the mages and that would be a nicer ending for Doherty, but I need to side with the Templars for a specific ending 🥲.

.Still! My Hawke allows the HoF group to stay at their house (Leandra having recognised the giant son of the Couslands and knowing that they need to offer him safety and succour) whilst they’re in Lothering, and in turn Andrastopher warns them to flee whilst they can, as the dark spawn horde are advancing rapidly. This creates a kind of friendship that means Andrastopher is paramount in saving Hawke from the Seekers later as they attempt to recruit either of them for the job of Inquisitor.

.However!! I do want to make a new Warden Commander for the sake of padding out my hero count and also allowing Andrastopher to abandon the cause he detests (Grey Wardens) and also to focus solely on vengeance (Killing all Howes and stealing from the nobility who shunned him), which gives him a more stable relationship with Zevran in the end.

.But to get back to the original point of “other heroes” I do have not super developed other characters that could have been the hero. Like I have an Aeducan prince who helps the HoF team in the Deep Roads, after surviving on spider meat and mushrooms for months, and my Dalish HoF who is a transient elder who offers aide to all those in need (who leaves the clan pre-DAO). And I recently started playing a Cadash who hates the Chantry but is paramount on figuring out what happened at the conclave as some of his best friends were killed there (plus big boom?? He needs that kind of power in his arsenal) and maybe he gets a smooch along the way 😘. There are some I can’t have because they technically would die with the choices I make, like the Human/Elf mage in DAO will always be killed by Andrastopher in the circle quest, and the Dalish will also die as Andrastopher sides with the werewolves. And technically all the heroes you don’t choose do end up dying because either Duncan doesn’t show up to save them or they get killed in the Conclave explosion. Ofc that’s easily changeable like they didn’t contract the blight etc in DAO or they weren’t in the Temple when it exploded in DAI.

.TLDR: Yes but they’re all in the same world state and not technically HoFs/Hawkes/Inquis’ because I have a one track mind for this game!!!.

[goforth-ladymidnight]

☃️You secret santa is back with more questions ☃️!!

Your answers were very helpful and the wheels in my brain have started turning!!

Just some follow up questions:

- Would you prefer to have tamcien in an established relationship or do you prefer the tension and longing that comes before that?

- Is there a specific era of them that you prefer? Pre canon or post-a certain book?

- What’s your favorite thing about their relationship? Any favorite moments in the books? (ramble away if you like I’m curious)

- Do you prefer smut or no smut for this? If you’re okay with smut, any no nos or things you do like?

And finally, I’d love to hear about that list of christmas movies that you like!!

-🎅🎄

Hi Santa!! I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. For some reason my Tumblr app didn't notify me I had a new message; I had to log onto my desktop for that! My apologies. ❤️

I love all your questions! Here are my answers, and I hope they're helpful:

I kind of prefer mutual pining that becomes a relationship (for the angst; did I say I didn't want angst before? I'm pretty sure I was lying). I do like fluff in established relationships, though!

When it comes to canon, I hate how strained Tamlin's and Lucien's relationship became when SJM decided to pivot away from the Spring Court. Someone once pointed out that Lucien having a black eye (implied to be from Tamlin) in ACOFAS doesn't make sense, since faeries are supposed to heal so quickly. It's bothered me ever since. Besides, I cannot imagine Tamlin even thinking of bruising Lucien's good eye, knowing how painful it was for him to lose one in the first place. 😥

To me, it just feels like SJM wanted Tamlin to look like an absolute monster and therefore deserving of Rhysand's taunting visits later. Not only that, but considering that most folks are right handed, does that mean that Tamlin lashed out and hit the left side of Lucien's face? The side with his metal eye and facial scarring?? I DON'T THINK SO. Not my Tamcien. NEVER NEVER NEVER-

Okay, deep breath. I could rant about Tamlin's retcons even more, but that wouldn't answer your questions. Okay, so, in my version of events, pre-ACOTAR is a little more fluffy, if that makes sense. At least before Tamlin loses his family and Lucien gets banished. Even then, the world doesn't start going to hell until Amarantha enters the picture, stealing most of Tamlin's magic and taking Lucien's eye. (Is that still considered pre-canon, or is it technically canon? 🤔One wonders.) But in my mind, Tamlin and Lucien being younger with fewer responsibilities feels more fluffy, while post-ACOWAR feels a lot more angst-y, considering how much they've been through.

Now for the actual answer to your question, haha. Which era do I prefer? I was going to say pre-ACOTAR, but if you could somehow find a magical way to make ACOFAS better, I would love you forever. (But only if you are so inspired. I want you to have fun with this!!)

To me, they are the epitome of Sunshine/Grumpy. At least in Book 1. And this is ignoring Tamlin's so-called red flags. It was originally written as a Beauty and the Beast retelling, and you cannot convince me that it was ever meant to be a cautionary tale. I will die on that hill.

sigh. New bullet point. You did say that I could ramble. Where was I? Oh, yes! Sunshine/Grumpy. I've always seen Tamlin as the quiet introvert who just wants to do his thing, playing music and writing poetry, and Lucien as the bright-eyed social butterfly who has taken a shine to his shyer friend.

When you asked for moments, one that came to mind is just a throwaway sentence in Book 1, but it says a lot about their dynamic. On the day of the Solstice festival, Feyre is worried about where Tamlin has gone, but she is relieved when she hears: "Tamlin's deep voice and Lucien's braying laugh echo through the halls". That is it in a nutshell. Lucien's lightheartedness, and Tamlin's quieter (dare I say shyer?) humor.

I think what really cemented them as a pair for me is what we're told about the masquerade. Now, Amarantha is given credit for coming up with the idea, but I like to think that Tamlin was more than willing to agree, even if it seemed suspicious, because he wanted so badly for his friend to be at the party with him. (I personally headcanon this particular party to have taken place at the Spring Court, because it seems like a lot of work to transport everyone Under the Mountain, just to attend Amarantha's apology ball, when she had already thrown one where she stole their magic. Fool me once, and all that.) Anyway, I can just imagine Tamlin helping to cheer Lucien up by discussing the designs of their masks and what they'll wear, if only to help Lucien feel less broken over the loss of his eye.

I also can't help but feel that Amarantha's subsequent curse felt like a jab at Tamcien's relationship. It didn't just have to be a human's love, it had to be a human woman's love. She wanted the curse to be impossible to break. And come on, she had to be at least a little jealous that Tamlin liked Lucien's red hair better than hers. Did she glamour her hair to be red to appeal to Tamlin more? 👀 After all, there was a typo in the first book that Amarantha had black hair (that was later corrected). And every other character from Hybern has black hair. Just sayin'.

As for your next question... When it comes to smut, I am, uh... incredibly shy. 😅 I usually write fade-to-black myself because I'm so shy about it. That doesn't mean I don't mind reading it from time to time! But there definitely has to be a build-up to it. I never read Porn Without Plot, for example. I'm not very kinky either. When people make fun of first-time ACOTAR readers for thinking the series is spicy, that was definitely me. 🫣Your girl was a late bloomer, and very vanilla, at that! 😂Anyway, all this to say that I won't say no to smut, but for me, I would prefer if it's less graphic and more sensual, if that makes sense.

As much as I love talking about Tamcien, the fact that you asked about my favorite Christmas movies makes me so happy. Truly. There are just certain movies that make the holiday for me, and not everyone in my life shares my taste. I usually watch them by myself.

I'm fond of the childishly silly movies like "A Christmas Story" and "How the Grinch Stole Christmas [the Jim Carrey version, believe it or not]", but if you really want to get me in the ✨"Christmas Spirit"✨, then we are watching "Home Alone", "A Muppet Christmas Carol", and "A Claymation Christmas". (For that last one, if you don't mind stop-motion animation, and I know it's not everyone's thing, it is delightfully weird.) That and the Rankin-Bass animated specials were my childhood, in a nutshell.

That's not to say that I'm not a sap for Christmas Romance! They just don't evoke that feeling of what it was like to experience Christmas as a kid, which is usually my goal. My favorite "grown-up" Christmas movies include: "While You Were Sleeping", "Last Holiday", and, oddly enough, that one "New Girl" episode called "The 23rd".

Now that I've said so much, I wonder if I've said too much. 😅

In any case, thank you for reaching out to me again so soon and lifting my mood! It was fun coming up with all the answers to your delightful questions. 🥰

[quarter-life-crisis2]

Dread!!! Is the best way to describe how I felt reading this. Why is he lying? It’s all so cute and fluffy and mature yet something feels like it’s about to bubble over

Also, haven’t seen or spoken to her in years? So the person has broken up with whoever they were…??

So then the question is: is it an existing OC, or a different one? The cigarette narrows it down a little bit from the existing ones right. Nari I’m pretty sure doesn’t smoke and neither does Kaya from what I remember.

We know Dilara does when she’s stressed, she also playing video games, with JK as well, they get along and are friends sorta at this point in her story. Also, we have Tae cheating so that kinda adds an additional possibility of … can’t find a good word… tumultuous behaviour?? She’s my main suspect, thought it’s hard to picture something going on… also this would mean that the photo is pre military, and she’s not been around for a while since they haven’t spoken? So Dilara and Tae breakup era? I know you won’t confirm anything I’m just brainstorming.

Also, upon a further look into the chronological order of the stories, Tae x Dilara is all happening right before (ish) Jk x Lia, so timeline, it does make sense that it would be her, and they have been broken up since. But she’s in a photo happy by his side? So they somehow makeup enough for a social as a couple yet something goes down with JK and they breakup again? Still missing pieces for sure. I can’t quite remember the literal time passing, but it’s been at the very least 18 months of enlistment and the entire Lia relationship….

There’s Miso who also smokes, but I’m not sure she likes video games nor if she’s ever close to jk, so she remains a weak contender for now.

Also unsure on Chae given i don’t think she smokes? But she is young in the story so maybe later? And Lia says they look like they know each other a long time? So with that it could be both Chae and Sooah since they both have history… technically Nari could fit here but I don’t see her smoking… nor involved with JK, but maybe I’m wrong.

It could also be another unknown person… jk, being the youngest doesn’t help since they’re all older brothers, but based on the best friend comment, I would narrow down to Jimin and Tae? Their friendships are probably most developed in the au, and age wise it would make more sense? So with this I am a tad more suspicious of Sooah because I can kinda see that fit the existing timeline more, since her and Jimin are not together. So the photo could be deceiving, showing their chemistry. So she could have a thing with JK, and while they shouldn’t, it’s less intense.

Or could it still be Dilara, and it happened right before enlistment, so the comeback is causing tensions because of it?

So the question is: is the cigarette a clue or trying to throw us off on purpose with the detail?

Ah I’m going crazy here.

I love Lia, I don’t like it when JK lies and looks longingly at the photo of another woman. I’m suspicious as well as to what he’s feeling. I don’t doubt his love for his gf but brooo what’s the deal here why are you being sus what are you up to??? I’m concerned.

I could feel my skin tingle with anxiety with her at the end, that would really play on my mind, because she’s understanding and mature but him being closed off and odd would make me question if I’m being blind. I think they should’ve discussed it by now in their relationship, no? Since he wants her to move in? Is it just shame? What’s up????

Ah the stress!

I’m so glad they’re back though, they’re the first couple I read before I binged them all and became your personal fan girl, so it’s like going back to my roots.

Can’t wait for any future stories on all the members as usual and I hope you’re doing well!!

PS he feels bad looking in his hyung s eyes…. So does the other member know or it’s just his guilt? Either way this adds a level of tension and issues within the group, which we haven’t reaaallyyyy experienced, they’ve been an united front mainly, even when holding each other accountable and so on…. So much to learn and discover

Unfinished Business (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: Lia hates leaving things unfinished - something Jungkook knows a thing or two about.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fluff, angst (but not the kind you think)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5.4 K

Warnings: language, tattoos and needles, a lot of ambiguity

A/N: Writing for the OG couple after a long while. Highly recommended reading (or re-reading) The Fifth Part 1 and 2, or at least Part 2 for sure. Contains a lot of references to the past. Takes place post-military enlistment, a few months after Honey.

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)

Listen to: "suspicious minds" by elvis presley

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

It’s only seven am, but Lia’s focus has already been stolen. 

Clutching a cup of hot coffee and dressed in nothing but Jungkook’s t-shirt, she leans against the kitchen doorway of his new apartment, pensively surveying the last remaining boxes that need to be unpacked. They aren’t too big; all the major work was done yesterday, including unwrapping, decorating and cleaning up. The three cartons left in the corner of the living room, one of them marked Fragile, can’t take too much time or effort.

But Lia can’t handle things left unfinished. 

Draining her cup, she places it on the kitchen mantle and retrieves a pair of scissors, getting to work. The first box is living room utilities; a key holder, fridge magnets, a few chargers. She moves them all to their correct locations, trying to make as little noise as possible so as to not wake Jungkook. 

A lot of the heavy lifting yesterday had been done by him; even though he’d seemed to enjoy it, he’d been exhausted by the end of the night. As determined as he’d still been, by the end Lia could tell his energy was declining, especially as his hints to get her to move in with him began becoming less and less subtle.

She’s rummaging through the second box, filled mostly with other knick knacks, when Jungkook emerges from the bedroom, squinting sleepily and pulling on a t-shirt. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, voice thick with sleep. He clears his throat.

“It’s no problem,” she replies absently, glancing up at him. “There’s coffee in the machine.” 

The sound of his feet padding into the kitchen fades away slightly as she continues unpacking. The second box has only the dregs of a bachelor’s past in it, including a remote that seems to belong to nothing and a half-empty box of condoms. Deciding to let Jungkook deal with it, she reaches for the last box just as he joins her on the floor.

“Okay, I don’t know where to place these,” she tells him, gesturing to the carefully bubble-wrapped photo frames. “I mean, I can try, but -” She scans the entertainment unit around the television, noting space for at least eight or ten frames. “This seems like something you should decide.”

“You can, too,” he offers, picking out a frame and unwrapping it. “Half the pictures are of you,” he points out, flashing her a toothy grin.

“They’re with me, not of me,” she corrects him, even as she takes the frame from him and admires the picture. It’s of them seated on the edge of a go-kart, in racing overalls and with breathless grins. “This was a fun day.”

“Yeah. The cars were faster than I expected.” Jungkook is quiet for a moment before placing the picture down and tilting his head towards the box. “How many are there in total? I’m not even sure all of them will fit.”

“Sure they will.” Lia drags the box closer and they begin unwrapping the pictures one by one, the memories making them chuckle occasionally. Despite the fact that a large number of them don’t include her, it’s strangely endearing to view glimpses of Jungkook’s youth, his friends and his success.

“This one should go right in the middle,” he decides, holding up a framed picture of the day he’d taken Lia home to meet his parents for the first time. Jungkook had dragged her to the centre of the group, his parents on either side of them, and his brother behind them right after he’d set the timer on the camera.

“It’s cute,” she agrees, “but shouldn’t you put this one up there, too?” she asks, holding up a picture of him with his group members. “Wasn’t this your first award?”

“Oh, yeah…”

“There’s probably space for both.”

“What about this one, though? This was in Wembley…”

They continue debating between what must be at least fifteen frames, eventually standing up to start arranging them on the shelf. 

“Wait, you want to do them all now?” he asks a bit incredulously, eyes wide.

“It’s not that many, Kook,” she tells him, patting his shoulder encouragingly. “We’ve unpacked everything else - do you really want just one box to lie around in the living room?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Really.”

“Let me say that differently: I don’t mind.”

Lia struggles to suppress a smile at his cheeky response and picks up another handful of frames from the box, moving to the shelf. “You got me. I don’t like loose ends. Now can we do this? Come on, you’ve always said you wanted one of these in your living room,” she reminds him. “You finally have it.”

Jungkook sighs dramatically but joins her, for she’s not wrong, and picks up a picture of himself and Namjoon at the United Nations. “Okay, let’s see…” Filled with concentration, he scours the shelf and finally picks a spot near the top. “There,” he says, carefully placing it at an angle and turning around with a flourish. “Okay, what’s next?”

She chuckles and hands him a picture of BTS on stage, and they get back to work. Eight more carefully arranged pictures later, both of them stand back to admire their handiwork.

Lia nudges his side gently. “It looks good, don’t you think?”

“It does… but I’d imagined a lot more pictures, to be honest.” He looks down at her inquiringly. “We have more, right?”

“At least ten,” she assures him. “Any particular events you want to put up? People or birthdays or anything…?” She rummages through the box and retrieves a few more frames, moving to arrange them on the sofa so they can both look at them.

“This one for sure,” says Jungkook after a moment, pointing at a picture of himself and a couple of his band members. “It was after Coachella - such a fun night. This one, with you in Incheon,” he adds, like it’s obvious. “This one, backstage.”

“Was it a special concert?”

“No, but I think I look good in it,” he admits sheepishly. “Or is that too conceited? You know what, forget I said -”

“I agree, completely,” she interrupts him seriously, swiping the picture up from under his nose and placing it next to a frame of Jungkook with Seokjin. She pauses at the sight of her boyfriend in the first one, looking dapper in a suit at the engagement party she’d attended as his date. In the second, Jungkook’s hair is thick and lush, falling onto his forehead with ease, his face shiny and alight with post-concert adrenaline. “Looks good, no?”

Jungkook grins. “If you insist. What about those?”

Lia takes stock of the remaining. “This one is nice… oh, this one is, too - but it might become repetitive… why do you have so many pictures with Namjoon? Okay, wait - this one, for sure. Oh - and this group picture.” She hands half of them to Jungkook and starts arranging the rest. 

“Perfect.” 

At his proclamation, both of them step back again to survey their progress. “Looks great, babe. We can get rid of the box and finally clear -” She breaks off when she sees a few frames still in the box. “Wait, what about these?”

“No more space.”

Lia frowns. “Huh,” she utters softly, tucking her hair behind her ears and reaching for the pictures. One is of Jungkook and Bang PD, but there’s already another one of them on the shelf, so she lets it go. The second is a slightly unfocused one of him at dinner with a few friends, while the third is the group picture she’d handed to him a couple of minutes ago. 

She holds it up to show him. “You’re not putting this up?” 

“What?” He glances at the picture and shakes his head. “No… it’s really crowded and you can’t see anyone in it. Besides, it’s not even a special event,” he adds.

She looks back down at it. It’s clearly taken at someone’s house - and at a party, judging by the attire. There are definitely a lot of people, but crowded might be a bit of an overstatement. There are about ten or twelve people at most, some sitting on a sofa and the rest standing behind it, almost everyone clutching glasses with varying levels of drink and smiling into the camera.

Even through the motionless image, the air of mild intoxication and friendship and fun is palpable. Almost all the members of BTS are in the picture, but the rest are a mixture of unfamiliar boys and girls, most of whom Lia doesn’t think she’s ever met. Jungkook is towards the side of the sofa, looking younger than she’s ever known him, with his friend Mingyu on one side and a girl on the other, perched on the arm of the couch. 

Lia’s gaze lingers on Jungkook; this picture is pre-military, clearly, before the group went on hiatus to enlist. His eyes are shining, his hair thick and long, the lip ring glinting in the dim light. She spots various members of BTS; Jimin’s infectious smile, Namjoon’s dimple, Taehyung’s arrogantly handsome expression. All the other pictures with the group members on the shelf are at events - tours, shoots, engagements, the White House. This one is the most candid - the only candid one. 

She bites her lip; she knows reuniting for a comeback wasn’t the cakewalk Jungkook tried to pass it off as. From the snippets she’s picked up from him and the way her marketing team at Hybe has been working on it since before she and Jungkook even met, it’s been clear that the members have been approaching it with different states of mind - and it’s no surprise that Jungkook might be struggling with it the most. 

She watches him saunter into the kitchen and duck behind the fridge door. She’d never wanted to push him, especially about a part of his life she didn’t really know, but maybe that wasn’t the right way to go about it.

“Maybe we can fit it next to the one of you and Namjoon at the UN,” she suggests. “There’s space there. Or we can replace the one of you and your boxing instructor?”

“I like that one,” replies Jungkook without looking up, now busy assembling breakfast. “Do you want ham?”

“Sure, thanks,” she says absently. Glancing down at the picture again, she shakes her head slightly. It looks like a still from a movie. “It’s a really nice picture, Kook.”

“They’re all nice pictures, but something or the other would get cut,” he says reasonably. “These three are the least nice ones, I guess.”

“It was nice enough to get framed,” she points out. She knows she’s being persistent but it’s most unlike Jungkook to deliberately exclude a picture with his friends, especially the members of BTS. “Even the colour palette would look great with the rest. I think you should consider it.”

Jungkook sucks a bit of sauce off the tip of his finger. “It’s my shelf,” he says simply.

There’s a line, a line beyond which she’s sure her sweet and patient boyfriend can snap. Lia doesn’t think she’s there yet but a part of her is curious to see how far she can take this - and how concerning the situation is.

“Jungkook,” she begins, her tone gentler than before, “is something wrong? Because I thought everything was starting to go back to normal.”

He pauses before sighing softly. “You’re right,” he says finally, looking up but not quite meeting her eyes. “Everything’s okay now. You should put up that picture.” He gives her a small smile and goes back to the sandwiches.

Lia obliges, but something continues nagging at her. Jungkook is an open book, but this topic feels so out of reach to her that she can’t even begin to know where to start. As their comeback rehearsals and studio sessions have increased in frequency, he’s started to reach home later and later, looking more relieved and happy each time. She wonders if it’s still not enough for him, if something has changed so irreversibly that things aren’t bad - they’re just different.

But there are other things to do today.  

“This might be the coolest thing we’ve done together,” says Jungkook excitedly. He slows the car, searching for a parking spot. When Lia doesn’t answer, he frowns. “You don’t agree?”

She winces. “I don’t think it’s the coolest.”

“Can you name a cooler thing we’ve done?”

“I can name, like, twenty.”

Jungkook huffs. “Do you really not want to do this?” he whines, his shoulders slumping.

“Of course, I do,” she answers immediately, squeezing his arm, her fingers pale against his dark tattoo sleeve. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s really not a big deal, we don’t have to -”

“I know that, Kook,” she interrupts him patiently. “I want to, I promise. I mean, it was kind of my idea,” she adds.

“What?” He glances at her incredulously. “I suggested couple tattoos, like, one month after we started dating.”

“Yeah, that probably wasn’t the best strategy,” she mutters wryly. “But, I meant, the design of the tattoos was my idea.”

“That’s true,” he allows. “And it’s a nice design. Very…” He breathes in dramatically. “Very us. Our core. A lot of history there,” he points out, grinning.

“And the least cheesy design I could think of.” She pinches his cheek as he slides into a parking spot, unable to resist. “Also one where if we break up, mine won’t look strange.”

“Wow, way to ruin it, Lee-lee,” he mutters, scowling as he switches off the car. “That’s it - we’re switching. I’m getting the basketball, you’re getting the basket.”

“What? Absolutely not,” argues Lia as she climbs out of the car. “I’m the one who came up with it; I’m getting the ball.”

“No, now I don’t want the basket. Why can’t you get it?”

“Because it’ll make no sense, an empty basket,” she points out, walking alongside him. “You have enough tattoos that it won’t stand out. Oh, and also - I actually play basketball?”

“That doesn’t sound fair.”

“That’s tough, Jeon,” she says shortly, patting him on the shoulder as they climb the stairs to the entrance of the tattoo parlour. “But we’ve already got the sketch and placement and everything done, and we’re sticking to the plan.”

“God, you’re bossy.”

“And you’re bratty,” she retorts, squeezing his shoulders and kissing his left one. “But I love you anyway.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook grins as they enter the reception, trailing slightly behind her. The low hum of the air conditioner takes over from the traffic outside as he follows Lia to the desk, keeping barely an inch of distance between their bodies and leaning over her shoulder. “You mean that?”

“Sure.”

“God, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he mutters, pulling out his wallet for his ID and placing it next to hers, flashing a smile at the receptionist. “Fine, I’ll get the basket.” 

He pinches her waist gently and she gasps in surprise, swatting his hand away. “Good. Because we’ve pushed this appointment enough times and I just want it to be done. I hate that it’s just unfinished and incomplete and just hanging there, waiting for us to get on with it.”

“Huh.” Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “What if the artist isn’t available today?”

“Then I will physically pick up the tattoo gun and draw the tattoos on us.”

“You’d really draw a tattoo on me? You? I mean, I love you,” he quickly backtracks, “but… you?”

“Exactly,” she says as they walk inside together. “So you better hope he’s in today or you’re going to end up having my artwork on your skin forever.”

“Point taken.”

Fortunately for them, not only is the artist available, but he’s prepped and ready to go. Two reclining chairs have been placed next to each other, the tattoo guns are plugged in and kept on the table, sterilised needles still in the packets, and a tray with small bottles of water.

“Ah, my favourite customer is here,” he greets, his lined face lighting up when he sees Jungkook. “And my second favourite customer by association,” he says to Lia, chortling at his own joke as they bow slightly to each other.

“Thank you for making the time,” she says, while Jungkook genially hugs him. 

“Of course, of course. Ah, this is Eunbi,” he remembers, turning slightly and gesturing to a young woman who steps out of the staff room, “my apprentice.”

Eunbi gives them a small smile, smoothing her short blond hair self-consciously. The roots have begun to darken but it gives her a nice, rustic look. 

They get settled after that, Lia and Jungkook on one chair each, while Eunbi and her boss take their seats on revolving stools, sketch pens in hand and tattoo guns on standby.

“It’s a really cute idea,” says Eunbi, carefully drawing the basketball on the inside of Lia’s wrist. “Jungkook oppa, you’re getting the basket?”

“That’s right.” He takes Lia’s free right hand from beside him and squeezes it. “I’m taking one for the team,” he says dramatically.

She rolls her eyes but squeezes his hand back anyway. “You’re the one who wanted couple tattoos. If anything, I’m taking one for the team.”

“Same difference.”

“Why basketball?” The tattoo artist, who Lia realises has yet to mention his name, peers at them from above his dark glasses. “Is it some new meme I’m not aware of?”

“Oh, no, it’s not a meme,” says Jungkook quickly. “We met while playing basketball.”

Eunbi looks up. “Really?”

“Playing is a bit of an overstatement,” says Lia.

“I didn’t know you played basketball,” says the tattoo artist skeptically to Jungkook. “Are you any good?”

“I’m getting better,” he mumbles, while Lia snorts.

“It’s true, he is,” she adds, grinning at Jungkook’s increasingly annoyed expression. “The first time was… not great. But he’s been practising since then.”

“Good on you, kid. You know, I used to play basketball in high school.”

“Really?” Jungkook turns to him excitedly. “Which position? Do you follow the NBA? I’ve started recently…”

Lia bites her lip as she watches him prattle on about his favourite team, about the last match he’d watched. It was one of the most endearing things he’d done: diving into her favourite sport with interest, learning the rules, watching the matches and following the players on social media.

She squeezes his hand absently, also glad that his strange mood from earlier seems to have disappeared. He’s cheery as ever, all the way from flirting his way into her shower, to proclaiming how he was willing to get the basket tattooed to prove how, much like the basketball filled the basket, she filled him with happiness.

Then she’d groaned and cringed while he’d laughed his arse off, turning the volume up in the car and singing along angelically to whatever song was playing.

“Lia.” Jungkook tugs at her hand. “You want to take this one?”

“Huh?” She turns apologetically to Eunbi. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“Oh, I - I asked how you two met.”

“Oh.” Lia glances at Jungkook, pursing her lips in amusement. “I think you should probably take this, no?”

He shakes his head and mock-glares at her. “Uh, okay. Well, long story short: we went on a date, I was a bit of a douche, but she decided to give me a second chance anyway.” Despite the humour of the situation, the relief in his voice is audible.

Heart warm, she nods. “He worked pretty damn hard for it.”

Jungkook nods. “Basketballs to the face notwithstanding.”

“Aw, that’s cute. And so are the tattoos,” adds Eunbi. “I wish my boyfriend would agree to one - but he’s terrified of needles.”

“I was terrified of basketballs for a good week there,” notes Jungkook. “But you’ve got to face your fears to overcome them,” he says wisely.

“You’re right. I wish he’d been a douche on our first date,” she jokes, “then I could’ve asked him to get a tattoo for me.”

“He’d have to be a really big douche for that,” says the tattoo artist, before lightly smacking Jungkook on the shoulder and ignoring his gasp. “And why were you a douche, huh?”

“I wasn’t - I didn’t -“

“His friend set him up and he was in a bad mood,” supplies Lia, reaching over and pinching her boyfriend’s cheek as he scowls.

“A really bad mood,” he clarifies. “Because he kept texting during dinner and asking for updates - I could’ve hit him, I swear.”

The tattoo artist responds reproachfully to Jungkook, but Lia barely hears it, for it brings back another memory she doesn’t dwell on too often.

She likes video games.

It’s the only aspect of their history she would rather ignore. Everything else - his apology, his attempts at getting to know her better, riding home on his motorbike in the rain, basketball with Dal - makes her reminisce with fondness, more often than not leading to an increased amount of affection for her boyfriend for the rest of the day. This one part of it, though? Not ideal.

She feels Jungkook clutch her hand tighter then, and she realises his tattoo has begun, the hum of the gun cutting through her thoughts. She squeezes his hand back automatically, endeared and exasperated at his wincing despite hundreds of tattoos, and pushes the unwanted detail of their history aside.

“I love it,” he says later, once they’re almost back at his house. He peels off the plastic from his shoulder a little bit before hissing.

“Don’t take it off yet, come on,” she tells him, pressing it back into place and stroking the reddened area. “It’s still fresh. And it does look great,” she acknowledges, lightly tracing the basket that’s wedged peacefully between two bigger tattoos on his tricep. “Do you think the fans will notice a new tattoo?”

“Doubt it. Or maybe they will,” he says after a moment. “You never know. They won’t be able to tell it’s about you, though,” he assures her.

“I’m sure,” she agrees, observing her own basketball tattoo. It hurt more than she expected but somehow, having Jungkook there doing the same thing helped. She won’t admit it to him without some eye-rolling, but she finds herself happy with their decision to get the tattoos after all.

“Do you want to get lunch?” Jungkook asks, unlocking the door and gently steering her in first.

“I’m good with ramen, honestly,” she says, taking off her shoes and padding through the living room. “Could you get a couple packets from the pantry? I’ll put the water on.”

Jungkook nods and disappears, softly humming a tune. Lia glances at the entertainment unit, his Playstation and neatly stacked DVDs, mildly satisfied that after an entire weekend’s worth of work, his apartment is properly set up.

Her gaze falls on the pictures, scanning Jungkook’s handsome face in each, before landing on the same group picture they’d argued about this morning.

And something falls into place.

“Got it!” When Jungkook returns a few minutes later, arms laden with no less than four packets of ramen, it’s to see Lia standing in the middle of the carpet, one of the photo frames in her hands. Even from here, he can tell exactly which picture it is.

She doesn’t look up at his entrance, and he takes the opportunity to dump the ramen on the kitchen island and slowly approach her. 

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Lia seems to tear her eyes from the picture to meet his eyes. To his relief, she doesn’t look angry or hurt. She simply looks curious - and confused. “This is - this is her.”

Jungkook bites his lip. “What are you talking about?”

She turns the picture towards him. “The girl you had a crush on. Back then.” She deliberately doesn’t elaborate and for that he is thankful. “This is her,” she says, pointing and tapping her finger on the glass.

It’s barely a question. After a moment, he nods. “Yeah, it is.”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise, as though she wasn’t expecting him to admit it so quickly. “And this is clearly the boyfriend,” she mutters as she gazes at the frozen faces, seemingly to herself, not being able to tell how his heart jerks. She looks up at his again, frowning. “Is that why you didn’t want to put this picture up? Because she’s in it, too?”

Jungkook sighs, his shoulders slumping. His gaze briefly falls on the picture, on her face, and he immediately looks away. “It didn’t feel right,” he confesses. “It felt like I would be… I don’t know. Disrespecting you.” He shakes his head and looks at the floor. “Especially if… someday, you decide to…” Here, he trails off, unable to find the nerve to finish his sentence.

“But… why?” Lia still just sounds confused. “She was just a friend, right? And you said it was over.”

“She was. And it is.” He shrugs, ignoring the old, dull pang in his chest. “I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years.”

“Did you think I would be mad?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, now wishing he’d just agreed to put the picture up when she’d handed it to him in the morning. This isn’t a topic he ever wanted to surface, and not with her. “When I first told you, you seemed… kind of mad. And then a bit sad.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most important thing to me now. I don’t want to ruin it.”

After a moment, he hears her sigh. He knows this sigh; it’s the same one he’d heard when he’d confessed to her that he didn’t know a lick of basketball, when his meticulously-planned drive-in movie date had gone to shit, when he’d inadvertently revealed that he was afraid she’d think he was too young for her.

“Kook…” She comes up to him, placing the frame on the coffee table on the way. Gently holding his hand, she tilts her head to meet his eyes. “I can’t be mad at you for something that happened before we met. Everyone has a past.”

“Yeah, but I’ve told you about this particular past before,” he reminds her, feeling wretched. “And it didn’t go very well.”

“Well… yeah. It didn’t come up in the best way, I guess,” she murmurs, and he knows she’s remembering their conversation in the Hybe copy room. “But now that we’ve moved past that… I can’t hold you to a crush you had years ago. Especially when it seems like you were friends,” she adds quietly.

Jungkook’s chest starts to feel heavy again. “You just… you sounded kind of mad. I think. Maybe I was imagining it,” he mutters, shrugging tiredly.

“I wasn’t mad… I guess I was a little thrown,” she admits. “I mean, I know you said she had a boyfriend. I just didn’t think it was one of the other members.”

He says nothing. He appreciates her understanding, although he should’ve always expected her to rise above petty jealousy or insecurity. It occurs to him for the hundredth time how lucky he is to have her; how, in the midst of a truly despondent time in his life, she’d been the beacon of light he’d been fortunate enough to stumble upon. He hadn’t looked back since.

But the moment his gaze lands on the picture discarded behind her, his heart creeps up his throat again.

“Is that what it is?” Her voice brings him back. “Do you feel guilty because she was dating your friend?”

For starters. There’s no point, he realises. As mature and understanding as Lia is, Jungkook doesn’t think he can find the words or the courage to relive his regrets, the ones that still catch him unawares when he hears her name in passing, or when he goes to rehearsal and inadvertently locks eyes with his hyung.

“Kind of.” 

Lia nods slowly. “It’s okay, Jungkook,” she murmurs, tugging at his hand again. “No one can control how they feel.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to respond to that. He makes a non-committal sound, his gaze flickering to the ground.

“You told me you were over her.”

“And I meant it.”

She squeezes his hand. “Good.”

He wills the heaviness in his chest to go away, and forces a small smile onto his face. “Sorry.”

She returns it, holding his gaze before reaching up and pressing a quick kiss to his mouth. “We don’t have to put it up,” she reminds him.

But Jungkook shakes his head. “No, you’re right. It is a nice picture,” he allows, picking it up. “And it was a long time ago.”

Apparently satisfied, Lia smiles back radiantly. “And you look very hot in it.”

“If only you’d known me then.”

“You would’ve learnt to play basketball a lot sooner,” she agrees, chuckling. 

“So you forgive me?” he asks after a moment.

Lia’s smile fades slightly. “For having a crush?” she asks, reaching up and touches his forehead with hers. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Not even to your friend,” she adds. “I mean, nothing happened, right?”

She’s beautiful. A beacon of light in a period of darkness he couldn’t see beyond. She saved him, more than she would know.

Jungkook brushes a lock of hair off her forehead. “No,” he lies.

After lunch, Jungkook volunteers to clean up the living room and kitchen while Lia goes to do the laundry. Collecting their clothes from his bedroom, she chucks them in the washing machine, loading it with detergent and softener and turning it on.

She stops by the pantry on her way back, looking for a chocolate bar or any other candy, something to officially clear the air with Jungkook. She searches along the shelves, passing by ramen, boxes of Caffetta coffee, and a lot of protein powder - only to come to the conclusion that his house is hopelessly understocked with sugar.

“We can get low fat,” she murmurs to herself, preempting his response as she makes her way back to the living room. She stops abruptly at the doorway when she spots him, his back tilted towards her, framed picture in hand.

Lia’s heartbeat feels louder for a moment. She takes a quick step back behind the doorway; it’s unnecessary, though, for his focus is on something else entirely. 

She ought to have seen it before. It wasn’t until they returned to Jungkook’s apartment that she even noticed the most important detail in the picture. Mingyu sat to Jungkook’s right while a girl sat to his left, perched on the arm of the sofa. One hand hung loosely around Jungkook’s shoulder, so casually, so harmlessly, that Lia hadn’t even registered it this morning.

On her other side was her boyfriend, clearly. The way she leaned into him, the way his arm rested confidently on her waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin between her light blue jeans and striped crop top, the way their bodies fit perfectly - it looked like they’d known each other forever. There was no doubt as to who he was, especially since he was someone Lia had definitely met.

In light of how intensely close the couple looked, the girl’s hand around Jungkook’s shoulder seemed unimportant. It was almost like a habit, or convenience, her dark nail paint and the small cigarette stub between her fingers looking like they belonged there.

It’s her, isn’t it? There was no one else in the picture it could be, not any of the other handful of girls in the same frame. It’s her; the one who likes video games, the one with a boyfriend - the boyfriend who Lia now knows is one of Jungkook’s best friends, a big brother he loves.

She bites her lip, continuing to watch him until his shoulders relax slightly and he places the photograph back on the shelf. He gathers the empty bowls on the centre table and heads towards the kitchen, and Lia feels the seed of uneasiness sink in her stomach. 

She can believe he’s over her. She can believe it’s in the past, that Jungkook is with her in the present. 

Whatever it is, though - it’s definitely not finished.

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to leave a review :)

[lokislytherin]

PSYCHO.

pairing: yandere student council president!sonny brisko x vice pres!reader

summary: sonny brisko is adorably loyal, attentive and loving, which makes him the perfect boyfriend... right?

word count: 1166

a/n: taichou saiko? no, only taichou psycho. to all briskadets freaking out over this exact moment (gut spilling zatsu yandere moment), this one’s for you! 

fic title from 'psycho’ by red velvet, and banner made by me (unbalanced divider also made by me lol art is not my strong suit and i didn’t have a ruler)! hope you enjoy! wrote it in lower case to fit the Sonny Brisko Aesthetic 

disclaimer: this fic is for your indulgence! reblogs are nice and if you recommend it on twt i’m fine with that too (as long as you tag me so i know) but please PLEASE don’t post it under any official tags 

today marks the one-month anniversary of your relationship with sonny brisko.

you still can’t quite believe it, to be honest. to think the two of you started off as the bitterest of enemies through the entirety of grade school (he ate the ant you helped cross the road! how dare! you overcame your fear of insects for that!), then desk-mates and grudging friends as you went through middle school, and by the time the two of you reached high school, you could no longer deny that he was your best friend.

even if he ate ants.

at some point in time, you developed feelings for him. 

it was terrifying, trying to straddle the line between ‘just friends’ and ‘hey i’m trying to test whether you feel the same, goddammit’.

things became even harder when he asked you to run in the student council with him, him as president and you as vice president. you spent hours and hours together, coming up with ideas, planning, rehearsing, convincing. 

you fell more and more for him as you watched him grow out of his shell, becoming a leader people would look up to and admire. he was better at leading the crowd than you were, although you were better at one to one conversations with people than he was. people found him intimidating to talk to individually, but your persuasive words and gentle demeanor swayed them onto your side.

against all odds, the two of you won, solidifying your positions. 

to celebrate, he invited you to an arcade to play games with him after school. just you and him, in an old-school arcade, with nobody else but the old guy manning the store and the weirdo playing pac-man a few meters away.

he watched you kick his ass and beat his high score in a shooting game, and told you without hesitation: hey, y/n. i like you. i’m pretty sure you like me too. so can we call this a first date?

at the time, you’d been too stunned to do anything but agree.

one tentative date turned into two, turned into you and sonny secretly holding hands under the table during student council meetings, sharing quick kisses in between classes. 

every now and then, you catch him staring at you intently. when you tease him about it, he flushes, looking away with a i can’t help it, y/n. you’re so cute. and cool. i like you.

that gets both of you flustered, giggling to clear the air.

the past few days, you’ve seen him come into school with cuts on his face or bloody knuckles. it’s nothing new, technically, you’ve seen him with bruised fists before, but it worries you.

he tells you it’s nothing. he’s a boxer, he just trained a little too hard and didn’t realize he hurt himself. 

you bandage up his wounds. “silly sonny, take better care of yourself, yeah?”

he grins, slightly crooked. “i mean, if you’re going to kiss me better every time, i might actually get hurt more.”

you boop him in the nose. “next time you get hurt, i’m not going to kiss you. how about that?”

he pouts. “nyoooo!”

god, he’s cute.

jump forward a few days later, you’re discussing meeting plans with the school council secretary. “how about we discuss this further over lunch later? my treat, if you’re interested?”

you’re about to politely decline when the secretary flinches violently. “on second thought, um, i think it’ll be better if we continue this tomorrow. i’ll. um. talk to you later!”

he flees the meeting room.

you would say it’s strange, if you didn’t see sonny standing in the doorway with the most frightening glare on his face.

he wipes the frown off instantly once the secretary is gone, but his dark expression stays. you’re so stunned you don’t even notice him lock the door behind him.

he walks towards you slowly, purposefully. almost predatory.

your mouth opens and closes, but you can’t speak, like you’ve been muted by the overwhelmingly threatening aura sonny is exuding.

the dark look in his lilac eyes makes you feel like you’re being hunted.

before you know it, he has you backed into a corner. his fist slams into the wall next to your head. you don’t know when you started shaking, but here you are, trembling like a leaf, sonny towering over you.

“don’t talk to any guy but me anymore, okay? i only love you, and you must only look at me. you understand?”

he’s so close, you can’t look away even if you wanted to. “y- yes. sonny.”

he smirks, his free hand cupping your cheek and stealing a kiss that leaves you dazed and breathless. “good.”

sonny steps away, and it’s like all the energy from before had disappeared without a trace. “haha, sorry, y/n. i guess i’m just a little insecure. anyway, wanna go for lunch?”

“sonny brisko, what the fuck is up with you today? that was really scary!” is what you want to ask.

but what comes out instead is “sure! sushi and negi, right? i’m in the mood for some aburi engawa.”

OMAKE: A FEW HOURS BEFORE SONNY ASKED YOU OUT...

sonny stepped into the alleyway behind the school, hands in his pockets. two other boys were standing there, smoking and laughing to themselves. 

he greeted them with a smile. “so, i heard you were talking shit about my y/n.”

“oh fuck,” whispered one of the two boys, dropping his cigarette, “it’s the commander! shit, man, i’m sorry, i’m taking it all back! i said nothing about your crush!”

the other boy laughed disbelievingly. “why are you so scared? he’s just some pretty boy, right? i bet we could beat him up easy, it’s two against one. i don’t believe in that commander bullshit.”

he tried to walk past sonny, but sonny stepped into his path, blocking the exit. the angelic smile stayed on his face. “i didn’t say you could leave.”

the boy sneered. “who are you to order me around? maybe you’re the head of the student council but you aren’t the boss of me.”

“tsk.”

sonny sighed, his lips curling up in a savage, deranged grin. he rolled up his sleeves, clenching and unclenching his fists like he was warming up. “i’m meeting y/n in a bit, so i better make this quick.”

less than a minute later, sonny stepped back out of the alleyway, leaving two bruised, bloody and unconscious bodies behind him. he whistled merrily to himself as he cleaned the blood off his knuckles. he couldn’t let you find out about his little side hobby, could he?

you’re the light of his life, after all, and he’d like to keep things that way. 

even if he had to slaughter the rest of the world for you to belong to him forever.

[snowdice]

Creased Hoodies (Chapter 1: Interrupted Summer Plans) [Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sander Sides

Relationships: Logan/Virgil, Janus/Patton (background), Remus & Roman  (background)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Virgil

Appear: Patton, Roman

Mentioned: Janus, Remus

Summary: Virgil just wanted to go on his planned summer research trip to do an anthropological study in 2005 America. However, when he is taken off course by an unknown enemy, he ends up stranded in the summer of 2018 with no way to get back the the 44rd century. Luckily, 2018 happens to be where a certain illegal time agency is based, and he might have an in with one of its agents.

This is the intermission for the story Folds in Paper. It takes place between Folds in Paper Book 1 and Book 2. It also takes place after the first 5 chapter of “Messages for a Hacker” which are side stories in the universe. Check all of this and more out on my Folds in Time Master Post.

Chapter Summary: Patton meets someone at the farmers market.

Patton goes to the farmers market.

Notes: Time travel AU

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Patton was a fan of the summer months which was why he was a little unhappy that he’d be missing a good chunk of them. Though, he guessed, he didn’t so much miss them as misplace them. He had stopped by to tell Roman and Logan what had happened with getting trapped in pre-history with Janus and why he’d be missing for a good chunk of time over the next few months to make up for it. He was staying with his now technically younger roommates for a week or two to recuperate before hopping forward a bit. He’d duck in for his mom’s birthday and his grandpa’s yearly fishing trip (Though Patton was of the opinion that he did not really want to eat fresh fish for a least a little while yet.) but would mostly be skipping forward a whole two months.

He’d land in early August which was still summer, but he’d miss most of June and July, and that was sad, but at least apples would be fresh around that time. Plus, fall was his second favorite season anyway.

Yet, for now, he got to relax a little bit back in late May. Logan had finished poking and prodding him to make sure he wasn’t sick with any really bad ancient disease yesterday, so he was officially allowed to leave the apartment. Since it was Saturday, he and Roman had decided to go grab some stuff from the recently opened Farmers Market.

Roman had gotten bored with the vegetable shopping and had split off to go look at the arts and crafts (and, knowing him, probably pastries) that the market had to offer, leaving Patton to finish up getting fresh ingredients for the week. He may have also been grabbing a little bit extra so he could make frozen meals at some point this week. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Roman and Logan to feed themselves in his absence, (Okay, well, he did not trust Logan and Roman often got distracted.) but he did want to leave something nice for them while he was away. He knew he’d missed them while he’d been gone.

He wandered down the main path through the market. Most days this was a side street off Main, but on Saturdays in the summer, it was blocked off to cars and hosted a large number of stands selling different things, mostly produce. In a small park off to one side, there was a live band set up and down the way a bit there were food trucks selling prepared food to people who got peckish while wandering the stands. He mostly tried to stay away from those because they almost exclusively sold unhealthy and overpriced food.

But gosh was it good food.

And Logan wasn’t here to stop him…

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to go have a look at what they had this morning. He turned away from the vegetable stands he was supposed to be shopping at and walked towards the parking lot lined with food trucks. It was, as predicted, mostly food that was horribly bad for you. Most of the things there were sweets, though some had actual meal food such as walking tacos and grilled cheeses. One was even serving pancakes with fresh berries with a sign telling you where you could buy the same berries elsewhere in the market. Patton’s eyes though, went straight past anything most people would consider actual food and landed on small stand with the words “Fresh Donuts and Fried Oreos for Sale.”

Now, he knew for a fact that he could only eat one, maybe two if he stretched it, fried Oreos at a time before he got sick to his stomach. They were just so sweet and greasy, but they sold them in packs of three. Hmm…

He looked around. “Would you like one?” he asked an older man with hair just starting to grey who’d been walking between the stands.

The man stopped, seemingly surprised at being addressed. He blinked at him in surprise. “What?” he asked.

“A fried Oreo,” Patton explained. “I love them but eating more than two makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Just… don’t eat the last one,” the man suggested. He was shifting back and forth on his feet.

“You obviously don’t know me,” Patton said. “Anyway. Free fried Oreo?”

“I…uh… yeah, sure whatever.”

“Great!” Patton said, turning back to the employee waiting. “3 please!” They had already been dunked in hot oil while the employee had been waiting for Patton, so they were out within seconds, hot and fresh. Patton thanked her and turned towards the man. He grabbed a napkin to pick one of the Oreos out of the packet and handed it to him. “Here you go!”

“Thanks,” he said with an awkward half smile.

“No problem!” Patton replied.

“Well anyway, I’m really in the middle of something, so I ought to be going now.”

“Oh, okay, bye!” Patton said, but he was already gone. Patton shrugged and reached into his bag of fried Oreos as he started walking in the opposite direction from the one the man took towards the park and the live music there. He’d go take a quick walk around the little park listening to the music to maybe work off the Oreos he was eating and then go back to his shopping.

He was about halfway between the food trucks and the makeshift stage when there was a loud screeching sound which he at first attributed to mic feedback, until he felt a kind of swoopy feeling in his gut like after eating two corndogs before going on a rollercoaster even though Logan had told him not to. Someone was time traveling and not your gentle popping here or there safe time travel. No, something was wrong.

There were popping sounds like those little mini popping firecrackers that kids threw at each other’s feet on the Fourth of July. People near the stage jerked away with little startled shrieks, attributing the sounds to something going wrong with the equipment, but it wasn’t actually coming from the stage, not exactly.

It was coming from somewhere behind the stage. Patton made note of the fact that it was so close to the musical equipment almost as though whatever was happening was intentionally set up to make people think it was an electrical problem. He picked up his pace a bit, but not too much as he didn’t want anyone to notice him doing so.

By the time he made it there, the noises had stopped, and the feeling of wrong time travel had settled into an annoying hum. The people around and on the stage were starting to settle, though clearly the musicians were confused.

Patton was confused too. What was that? Was it over? Why did something still feel off? He couldn’t scan the area to check what was wrong. He hadn’t brought the timepiece to walk to the local farmer’s market. He usually didn’t wear it about his own time for fear carrying it around frivolously may lead to disaster. Pickpockets snatching time travel devices off of the unaware had caused enough undue trauma, thank you very much.

So, he had only his own eyes and ears to work with. Yet, despite his experience, he didn’t see anything particularly amiss. He kept his eyes out for an object that might have caused the disturbance or clothing that didn’t quite match the times, but he saw nothing.

After a few minutes of slipping his way through the crowds, he finally decided to give up for now. He’d go back to the apartment and tell Logan something had happened. He should be able to figure out something. He weaved his way out of the crowd of people and back onto the sidewalk that surrounded the little concert area. Yet, as he was about to turn away, he heard an unfamiliar voice call out to him.

“Pat!” it called, and Patton turned to look at a man speed walking towards him in an inconspicuous black hoody and blue jeans. “You’re Pat,” he said when he was closer, his tone somewhere between a statement and a question.

Patton tilted his head at the stranger with a frown. “Do you know me?”  he asked.

“Not really,” he replied, “but I remembered your face.”

“What?” Patton asked.

He raised an arm and let the hoody sleeve slip down just a touch. Patton could detect a bit of panic in his eyes, and he figured out why when a timepiece much like Janus’s but not quite as fancy was revealed. “It’s broken. Please help.”

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Part 2

Folds in Time Universe Master Post

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