#they don’t believe in consistency- we love them for it though

[burymagdalene]

New Year's Wish - S. Reid x Reader

In which reader has to "deal" with their horny boyfriend attached to their hip all night, leading them to sort him out in the bathroom.

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader genre: Fluff & Smut (18+ pls pls) tags: subbyish spencer, semi-public sex, fondling, masturbation (m receiving) just a bit of crying, overstimulation.. smut, and love! wc: 2.2k. a/n: My first fic that came to fruition after a flu spell! I had a vision for the vibe of this but didn't know how to attach them in the cute 3 pictures above a fanfiction way.. sorry-- I DID IT

New Year’s Eve always feels like that holiday where you always have high hopes for, but consistently falls flat. Luckily, this year you have your sweet boyfriend, Spencer by your side to help you through the social interactions with mutual friends all night. Though, the alcohol helps alongside that as well. 

You’re looking into the mirror with squinted eyes at your reflection, analyzing what more to add to your outfit as Spencer gawks at you from your bed. “Spence, should I have my striped tights with this dress, or no tights? I’m worried I’ll be freezing.”

Spencer forcibly peels his eyes away from your curves in the tight dark gray dress you have on. “Tights. Yeah.” He pulls his lips in for a polite smile.

“Roger that!” You walk over to retrieve the tights from your dresser, Spencer’s music plays softly from a speaker and you sway along to it, “I like this one.” You walk back over to your boyfriend who still sits rigidly on your bed, despite how many times he’s been in it. 

“Would you like to do the honors?” With a hand reached out, you display the tights to Spencer.

Spencer gives you a full-tooth grin, “Why yes I would” and pats the space next to him on your bed. You dramatically plop down as Spencer stands up, between your legs. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you smile at Spencer as he starts to pull one of your stocking legs up your foot. Slowly shimmying it up, he traces over your ankle and up your calf. 

“I’m a little nervous for tonight, I haven’t been to this house party in a couple years, but it was pretty fun last time,” you make conversation. Your good friend Tatum had invited you and Spencer to come to a New Year’s Eve house party at her boyfriend, Eric’s house. You had been a few years prior in support of her endeavors of seducing said Eric, which obviously went well. 

Spencer hums and once the other leg has been covered, takes your hands to pull you up so that you’re standing and he can pull the tights up your waist. His hands flip your dress up to pull over your underwear and straighten it back down once the tights are on. “So pretty,” he starts laughing “you look so pretty you don’t have to be nervous about anything ever.”

“Shut up,” you giggle and pull him by his neck in for a kiss. “Let’s go, the sooner we leave the sooner I can rummage through Eric's stuff.”

Within 30 minutes you have arrived at Eric's, made pleasantries, taken a shot with your friend and some of her friends you pretend to know the names of, and are sitting on the couch side-by-side with Spencer, who has his hand freakishly high up your thigh.

Conversation goes better than your pre-party nerves prompted you to believe, there’s a good amount of people so that you can watch, and the wine being served was not bitterly disgusting. 

Spencer now rests his head on your shoulder, his side pressed neatly up against yours as he draws mindless circles into your patterned tights. He slowly moves up to your ear “kiss?” he mumbles softly. 

You position yourself so you're craning down a bit to make eye contact, and raise a suspicious eyebrow. PDA is not something Spencer is obsessed with, so kissing in a room with a large group of people should’ve been your first warning of how Spencer was feeling tonight. Regardless, you relent, how could you not kiss him in any circumstance? You lean down and peck him softly. 

Spencer sighs into the kiss, and sighs even harder when you pull away. You giggle and poke his side softly with your index finger. “I think we’re supposed to save all the kissing for midnight, love.” 

He lazily laughs, shifts his head and plants a wet kiss onto your exposed neck, which causes you to blush with how open he’s being in front of everyone. “Who made that rule,” he whines “I thought you’re allowed to kiss whenever but are supposed to especially kiss at midnight.”

“Hmm, well actually I don’t kno-” he cuts you off with a giggle and a firm kiss to your lips. You pull away, blush covering your face. “Okay.. ummm” you fidget a bit and stand up for a moment after plotting, pulling Spencer up by his hands. 

You take him upstairs to the bathroom for guests of the host, not the bathroom downstairs for every other partygoer, and shut the door behind you both. “Spencer!” you laugh as he softly pushes you up against the door and whines a pitiful “sorry” between the kisses he’s peppering on your neck and chest. 

Your eyes instinctively flutter shut for a moment as you whisper “just for a bit.. I wanna hang out some more still…”

Spencer laughs against your neck, “yeah, sure.” You shake your head in disbelief at how cocky he is, well, rightfully is. He pulls away and tucks your hair behind your ears, eyes staring at your face. Spencer trails his hands from where they’re cupping your face slowly down your neck, tracing your skin, to where your dress scoops down on your chest. “This dress.. So perfect.” He smiles at you. 

“Hmm, thank you. Thought that you might like it.” You play with his tie around his neck, untightening it just a bit. You use it as leverage to pull him towards the sink, which you are now hopping up on to take a seat. Spencer menuevers himself between your legs, wraps his hands around your waist and deepens the kiss. 

Typically, it shouldn’t shock you that Spencer can get hard relatively quickly when kissing you, because you yourself are getting a little shifty with desire as the kiss continues. However, the firmness of his boner against your inner thigh makes you want to mock him for it anyway. 

“Spencer! You’re hard!” You laugh and push him back a little so you can look at it. Though you enjoy embarrassing him for it, the desire you have to immediately look at it, touch it, talk about it, reveals how excited you are about it. 

Spencer lets his head fall back, “I can’t help it! Please stay here a little longer.” He begs softly with a grin of amusement. 

You trace your fingertips down his button up shirt and unbutton the bottom three buttons slowly, moving them to his side so you can properly graze your nails against where his happy trail begins above his pants. “I dunno…” you tease and work your hand around the outline of his dick through his trousers, a rush of air blowing out of Spencer's nose. “It sounds like they’re having a lot of fun down there.” 

“I could be having a lot of fun down there!” Spencer quips, referring to his boner that's painfully twitching against his leg now. 

Testing his limits, you slip away from him and jump back down to the floor, readjusting your dress. “How about you just take care of yourself baby?” You joke, expecting a huff and a petulant eye roll coming from Spencer in return.

Instead, he lets out a deep sigh immediately followed by a quiet “kay,” as he quickly unbuckles his belt, stunning you. 

You stare at his ministrations, quite frantic with how desperately he’s trying to take his dick out. Spencer pulls his underwear down just enough so that he can grip himself, his leaky tip not going unnoticed with the carefully constructed bathroom mood lighting. 

Spencer takes his shaky hand and carefully rubs his tip with his palm covering it, he squeezes his eyes shut in pleasure as his jaw drops.

Your jaw is also dropped as you watch your boyfriend whine with every tug he’s giving his dick. You’re stuck between staying and watching, maybe even giving this poor soul a break and helping him out, and continuing your teasing nature with getting ready to go back downstairs. You two make eye contact in the mirror.

You pull up your purse from the ground onto the sink, rummaging through it to find your lipstick. Looking in the mirror, it's all smudged off and your hair is a bit of a ruffled mess with how Spencer’s fingers were just pulling through it. 

Spencer continues to work himself staring at you in the reflection. You apply your lip liner and he twists his fist around his dick, a small trail of precum dripping from his knuckles. You take out your ruddy lipstick and he grabs the counter with one hand, watching and working desperately hard to keep his eyes trained on your reflection. “Ah, my god, baby-” Spencer mumbles, the high pitched tone in his voice indicating just how unfair you’re being towards him. 

You gulp, feigning apathy, and toss your hair a bit in the mirror, fixing some strands and making it look like you were not being groped in the bathroom moments prior. Giving Spencer an award winning smile in the mirror he grips the base of his dick, holding off the inevitable so he can stare a little bit longer at you in the mirror.

Reaching over beside him to grab toilet paper, ignoring how his whines escalate as your body brushes his, you put the small piece of paper between your lips, dabbing off access lipstick onto it. You look over at Spencer's pinched eyebrows and hand him the toilet paper with your lipstick stain with a chuckle. 

Spencer makes a high pitched “mmn” as he grabs the paper, shaking his head at the situation, embarrassed with himself. Between his pointer and middle finger of his left hand the toilet paper is held loosely, his right hand starts moving up and down again.

Shuffling from side to side, every pass of his fist, every soft moan, makes your legs numb to the directions from your brain screaming at them to leave the room, join the festivities downstairs. “Jesus, Spence.” Your eyes travel directly to where he’s pumping himself, breaking eye contact. 

“Don’t want you to go,” he mumbles again. You can tell by the way he’s talking, mumbling and hushed that he’s focused only on cumming now. “Want, uh… wanna watch you till I-”

As much as you pride yourself in being a nonchalant, charismatic tease, the way your boyfriend's bottom lip quivers and his eyes wet, you absolutely cannot bring yourself to leave his shaking frame to cum in solitude. You’re not evil!

So you scoot towards him, butt pressing against the sink again as you pull Spencer in by the tie, sucking a mark into his flushed neck. He gasps and runs his thumb over the spot below his tip that makes him see stars and cums all over the lipstick printed toilet paper you gave him. The right side of Spencer’s neck now sporting the same lipstick print. 

The first time you try to help him out through this process is also a form of torture for Spencer. You push his hand aside and grip him yourself, sticky cum covering your hand immediately as he sucks in a sharp breath “I dunno..” he says through gritted teeth.

You pump him into overstimulation as he rocks his hips into and away from your fist, not knowing if he wants to accept the red hot pleasure coming from your hand right now or to hide from it. Pressing your body close to his was a mistake since now your pretty striped tights now have a suspiciously cum-looking stain on them.

“S-sorry,” Spencer feebly makes out as he catches his cum rolling down the fabric. “Shitt.” He draws out and squeezes his eyes shut in remorse and the only reaction you have is to laugh. The dramatics of his cum on your leg not impacting you as hard as Spencer, who is the one with oxytocin flowing down to his toes. 

You hum softly, slow your hand down his softening length and run your clean hand through his hair, moving it from his face. “That's okay baby, feel good?” Smiling dreamily at him, he cracks his weepy eyes open with a nod. 

“You actually c-cannot put that dress on again. I feel like a neanderthal.” Spencer's head falls against your shoulder. 

“Huh, well you might be in luck because I’m not sure I can put this dress on again because there is a gnarly cumstain on the bottom of it now.” You tease lightly and take his jaw in your hand for a kiss. 

Spencer winces and looks down, “Nuh uh! Just the tights. Cruel woman.”

The efforts you made to make yourself presentable earlier had to be repeated, alongside Spencer who you cleaned up with toilet paper and dabbed his eyes dry again. The two of you had actually missed the countdown into New Year which you are sure is because Spencer was whining too loudly for you two to hear the “3…2..1..” from voices downstairs, but most likely you two were kissing anyway, so whatever the rule is for kissing on New Years, you and Spencer rang in the New Year properly.

[writtenbymoonflower]

how about

and hear me out

room mate! marauders who are obsessed with their shy roomate

oh trust me, hunny, i am hearing you. hope this is okay! shy gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: nothing really, just fluff, reader is very flustered

1.1k words

Your eyes were blurry as you shuffled into the sunny kitchen. You weren’t used to waking up to the curtains open and breakfast on the stove. You’d lived with people before of course, but none as lively as this bunch. You weren’t complaining, though, you were quickly warming to them, even though you had probably spoken a total of 50 words to your new housemates in the three weeks you had lived with them. Most of these words likely consisting of sorry, excuse me, thank you. 

They had been talking though. Ever since the day you met they had been treating you like their best friend. Not even that. They were all best friends. (Though you considered that wasn’t all, on more than one occasion you had caught Sirius with his head in James’ lap, or Remus’ legs swung over one of the other boys. You had also observed a fair number of kisses between the three boys). But rather, they treated you like something precious, like a porcelain doll they were begging to get a hold of.

That thought made you immediately think of the nickname Sirius (or ‘Pads’ as the boys occasionally called him) had stuck you with. 

“Hey, dollface! You sleep well?” The coal-haired boy looked like he was itching to beckon you under his arm, but resisted. You were thankful, not knowing if you could survive that.

“It was good.” You hummed, barely legible to James over the sound of his bacon sizzling. You padded over to the breakfast table, sitting one chair away from Sirius and his huge bowl of cereal. No sooner had you sat down when a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of you by a spindly hand. 

“Here you go, dovey.” Remus sat in the chair between you and Sirius. 

“Oi, Moons. You’re blocking my view.” You turned in your chair to look behind you at the ‘view’ he was referring to, brows scrunching in confusion when all you saw was the archway. You heard a light chuckle from Remus and a snicker from Sirius as you whipped back around. The possible meaning dawned on you, making you his your heated face in your mug.

“Don’t torture the poor thing.” James scolded, giving a (what you were sure he believed was comforting) squeeze to your shoulder before he sat on your other side.

“I never tortured anyone.” Remus corrected from behind his morning paper, slowly eating a cup of berry-yogurt. “Collective punishment is a war crime, Prongs” 

“Leavin’ me to the wolves huh, Moons?” Sirius sassed, sipping on his coffee that was mostly just cream and sugar. 

“Oh trust me, I’m sure we all know how much you’d love to be left to the wolf.” James smirked, clearly in on a joke that you had no idea about. He abandoned his teasing to turn to you, fixing a horribly kind look that made your tummy turn to mush. “There is some bacon and eggs on the stove for breakfast, but I’m sure Sirius would let you into his cereal.” 

“There’s also yogurt.” Remus looked pointedly to his near-empty cup. 

“Oh no, I’m okay. I could never take your food. I’m not hungry anyway.” You muttered into your mug. 

“You’ve gotta eat somethin’ babydoll. Can’t have you skipping meals.” Sirius had a playful, if not protective tilt to his tone. 

“I’ll find somethin’ don’t worry.” You scrubbed your bleary eyes with irritated cadence, still on the brink of sleep despite the warm caffeine swirling in your system. Thick fingers wrapped around your wrist to pull your offending hand away. 

“Gentle, sweetheart.” James scolded lightly. “Gonna hurt yourself like that.” He squeezed your hand before letting it go but it felt oddly like your face and your lungs were being squeezed as well. If this was the boys normal, you weren’t sure if you were going to survive. 

You mumbled a sorry looking at the mahogany table like it held the meaning of life, or the extra hour of sleep you desperately craved. 

“What’ve we told you? You say sorry too much, sweet thing. It’s like, your favorite word or something.” Sirius laughed, slurping down his cereal milk and licking his chops. You bit back another apology and rubbed your eyes again, though much more gentle this time. James cooed in sympathy. 

“You still sleepy?” He rubbed your back again, which made you both more heated and more drowsy. 

“Yeah.” You hummed, shamefaced as you played with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You were thankful that you were still too shy to not wear long pants around them, because they would definitely be able to tell how tensed your legs were. Remus set his paper down.

“Do you have work today, love?” 

“No, ‘s my day off.” James grinned at that, but Sirius spoke up. 

“Happy coincidence! It’s ours too.” He grinned. “How about we all watch something? We can put something on in the lounge room and you can catch a bit of sleep on the settee?” He suggested. You shrunk at the thought of sleeping in front of them, but weren’t opposed to the idea.

“We’ll make sure to wake you up so you don’t sleep the day away.” James added, still rubbing your back. You were easily convinced. 

“Okay, that does sound nice.” Barely above a whisper. 

“We can all have a big lunch when you get up, too. Maybe we could go out?” Remus suggested as he led you gently to the living room. You tried to make your way to the armchair, but you were tugged to the couch. 

“That won’t be comfy, dollface. Here you go.” Sirius sat on the settee close to one arm, Remus by the other. Sirius pulled you between them while James sat on the floor and you whined in protest. 

“No, I’ll move. You sit here, James.”

Remus swore that was the loudest he had ever heard you speak. 

“No, I’m good right here. Thanks though, sweetness.” James reassured. He was sat in the middle, though rather close to Remus so the mousy boy could reach out with one hand and scratch James’ scalp, roving his long fingers through the thick curls. You were so distracted that you were startled when Sirius tugged on you again, maneuvering your head onto a pillow that laid on his lap. You tensed before relaxing into his warmth. You tucked your legs into yourself as Remus covered you with a blanket before going back to loving on James. 

“There you go, baby. That feel nice?” Sirius said, unfamiliarly soft as he stroked your hair, hand a welcome warmth on your scalp. 

Baby. Baby. Baby.

It would surprise you if you woke up from this nap. Your heart had nearly stopped on the spot.

[cupidkenji]

killshot, baby

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM

As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises. 

You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly. 

“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.

“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint. 

“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.

Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”

“If?” 

You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.” 

“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.

–

The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up. 

“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”

“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”

“Is this about an unsub?” 

“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.

“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”

“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new. 

She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.

“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.

“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”

“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick. 

“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”

“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.

– 

The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.

“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.

“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”

That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you. 

“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up. 

“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision. 

–

The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?

Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.

– 

The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.

“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.

“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him. 

You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”

He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”

“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”

He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”

Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”

He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”

You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”

–

The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day. 

You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.

“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.

“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files. 

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up. 

You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it. 

“I can watch him.” 

Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.

You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”

He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you. 

“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.

–

Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day. 

“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?

Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.” 

He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”

–

You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless. 

You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from. 

Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back. 

Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.

Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.

“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.

You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.” 

He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”

“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless. 

“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”

You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”

Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.

He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”

“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”

You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between  friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.” 

Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.

– 

That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.

He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it. 

A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.

“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks. 

“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”

“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.

“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”

Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”

“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in. 

In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.

“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.

–

The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine. 

The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal. 

“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”

He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.

Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”

He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day. 

“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you. 

“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.

He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”

“White.”

He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”

He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.” 

You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”

He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”

You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.

He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”

You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”

That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”

He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”

Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”

Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.

“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.

Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.

–

You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?

The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure. 

You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?” 

He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.

You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.” 

The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”

You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself.  You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road. 

“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much. 

“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”

Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.

“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”

“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm. 

“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”

“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”

“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”

Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.

[hxxsxxng]

Do You Believe in Fate? s.jy

「pairing」 : childhoodbestfriend!jake x afab!reader

「synopsis」 : read the preview here

「word count」 : 15.3k

「genre」 : A lot of angst, smut, somewhat fluff, college au

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!! cursing, lot of nicknames, mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, hangover, poor mental state, kissing, cuddling, alcoholism, toxic friends (not jake), teasing, crying, begging, distress, groping (consentual), unprotected sex, pulling out, loss of virginity, lowkey size kink, oral (m and f recieving), titty sucking, sharing a bath tub, mentions of hospitalizations, implications of potential death, depression. this is a repost

「authors note」 : i want to thank everyone for motivating me to finish this story and writing this was truly an experience that will effect me as a writer moving forward. i am tagging all of my mutuals so hopefully i could get some feed back! i love every last one of you

「taglist」 : @jakeflvrz - @simhinata - @eternality - @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby - @jakesangel - @yjwsgf - @diorsyun-deactivated20241118 - @en-ner-jay - @yeonzzzn - @hoonieesm - @hoonheepretty - @jaysupremacy - @cherry-park - @heeslomll - @alvojake - @taeghi - @dollyyuen - @sumzysworld - @wonsbaer - @simpjay - @sjylouvre - @starboimoon - @blurryriki - @yzzyhee - @sincerelyrki - @hoonven - @heeseungsbm

It was the summer before me and Jake’s junior year of university. We have been working all summer and it’s another other day at the office. Putting in check information for the bank was a lot more boring than I expected . Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep, repeat. There was no time to do anything else. We were always told that if we went to college, we would have a good job. That proved to be wrong. 

Both Jake and I are going through college together, though he landed a way better paying job than I did. When it comes to bills, he ends up having to pay more than me, but he swears up and down that it is not a big deal.

I set down my mug. I hear my phone ring. It’s Jake. “Hello?” he should be at work. “Hey Pumpkin, I got out early today, were there any groceries that we needed?”

“Oh, no I can’t think of anything.”  “Okay, Stay safe, I will see you later.”

Jake never really got time off of work but when he did, I usually tried to stay out of his hair and let him relax. I just continued to run reports, pretty much twiddling my thumbs until the clock struck 5 and I would make my way out of this hell hole.

Traffic was terrible as usual. A usually 7 minute drive turned into an hour. Days like this I just want to get home and throw all my stuff on the ground and lock myself away in my room. Maybe watch some TV. Or listen to some music while my computer is hooked up to it. Anything that distracts from knowing I have to go back to the job I hate the next day. My thoughts are interrupted by a honk coming from behind me. The light turns green. Thank God. But as soon as I pull away from the curb, a car pulls out in front of me. Damn those stupid drivers. I don’t even know how many times this month I’ve had to pull over so they could let someone pass. It isn’t worth getting into a fight with them about. I try to ignore them.

I made it back to our house just in time for the sun to still be out. I made way into the house and Jake was in the kitchen. It was an unusual sight. His after work routine typically consists of cracking open a cold one and playing his computer. “Hey princess” he greeted me.

I stand at the front door, taking off my shoes and hanging my keys on the rack. “What has you in a good mood all of a sudden” I ask suspiciously.

“Well since I got off work early, I figured i’d come home and suprise you with dinner since you just been eating so much take out recently” he replied nonchalantly. The thought makes me sick. “You didn’t need to do that Jake.” “Oh yes, I did. You haven’t been cooking for yourself for a couple months now. I wanted to show you how much your best friend cares about you” he says.

Reguardless of what I say, the food is made and there is no taking it back. I guess I can’t really argue with him over it.

“And besides, I know you have missed your mom cooking pasta for us when we would go to her house in Australia, I figured I should make some do you instead” he adds.

I slowly approach the table. He is still finishing up plating everything. He looks up at me and smiles. “It smells good” I say flatly. He takes off the oven mitts and wipes his hands on it. He sets my plate down in front of me and he pulls out the chair to my right and takes a seat.

“So how was your day Jake?” I asked awkwardly. He starts digging in and responds, “Not too bad. What about yours?”

“Same shit different day. Boss is always yelling at me and the company keeps treating me like garbage even though I am the only one who actually gives a fuck.” I complained, eating a piece of garlic toast. It tasted good, surprisingly good, considering the amount of spices he used.

“Well I am glad it’s Friday so you can take some time to unwind over the weekend” he attempts to comfort me but at this point i’m too tired.

“I guess.” I poke at my food a little bit. Why does Jake’s job seem so perfect? he easily makes twice as what I make and I rarely hear him complain about working either.

“You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, I am not going to force you.” I guess Jake noticed me being hesitant about eating the rest of my meal.

“It’s not that I don’t want to eat it’s just that I’m really stressed and I don’t want to keep you here listening to me complain about the same things over and over again”

“Look at me” he said. I slowly lift my head for my eyes to meet with his. “I promise I will never get tired of listening to you” he reassured.

There he goes again, sending those butterflies flapping in my stomach. I don’t understand why he is so gentle and compassionate. It gives me goosebumps. I decide I might as well stop procrastinating and start enjoying the evening. “Thank you” I say, giving him a small smile. His face immediately lit up. It’s kind of cute. The rest of dinner went rather smoothly. Jake kept the conversation going, mostly talking about my day and what his was about, and then we would drift off into silence. He looked so relaxed and calm that I felt completely at ease. Even if I knew I should feel bad for keeping him up with my whining, I couldn’t bring myself to.

I stand up from the table and wash my plate. “I don’t know if anyone told you today, but you look gorgeous as always” he sneaks up behind me. “You don’t look too bad your self Jakey” I returned. My face was already a dark hue of red.

I decided maybe tonight I won’t rot away in my room. It’s a Friday night, I’ll have a little bit of fun. Still inside the house though. It is probably too cold outside anyway. I realize I am still in my work clothes. I return to my room to take them off and throw on my most comfortable pair of shorts and a talk top and take my Nintendo Switch to the living room.

Jake was already waiting there for me. He had a bottle of wine and 2 empty glasses. He looked up when I entered and smiled. I gave a shy smile and sat down next to him. He pulled me closer to him, pressing himself against me. Our legs intertwined under the couch. For a moment I forgot about the work situation and the world. In that moment it just felt nice to sit close to someone who cared for me unconditionally.

“What were you wanting to play?” he breaks the silence. “I was thinking we could play some Mario Kart” I suggested.

“Yeah we can, but you already know I’m gonna kick your ass”. He loves teasing me. I punched his shoulder and chuckled.

~~~~~~~~~~

He is in my bed. I just woke up and he is in my bed. I don’t know how to react. Maybe I drank a little too much? I really don’t remember anything after playing a few rounds of Mario Kart. He looks so peaceful. His dark brown hair all tangled up on the pillow. The way his biceps look in his black tank top. He doesn’t snore, but the way he breathes when he sleeps is very cute. There is a slight hint of stubble on his chin, almost like he hasn’t shaved in awhile. His lips are slightly parted. His face shows such contentment and relaxation. He looks so damn beautiful. I have to admit he is pretty attractive and I think he knows it. And I can’t help but wonder about what would happen if I leaned forward and kissed him. His soft lips pressed up against mine. I think it would be okay. Probably wouldn’t hurt. Scratch that, it would probably hurt a lot.

I woke up surprisingly early for a Saturday morning. Usually I am in bed until noon, but it’s only 9:30. Opposite of me, Jake likes to start his weekends bright and early, so it is a bit strange that he isn’t awake by now. I won’t bother him. It’s probably better this way. I roll over onto my side facing away from him. I close my eyes trying to fall back asleep. But it seems to be impossible. My mind is too preoccupied and Jake’s body is far too close to mine for my liking. I groan quietly. It doesn’t help at all.

I crawl out of bed, doing my best not to wake Jake up. As soon as I step out of the room, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. It’s my mom. I guess I hadn’t returned and of her texts last night. She asks if I have slept okay and if I’ve eaten breakfast. When she sees I haven’t. She sends me a picture of the last time I was at her house eating spaghetti. “Just eat something sweetheart and take care of yourself” she reminds me gently. I sigh deeply before replying. “Mhmm thanks mom” I set my phone down on the kitchen counter and rummage through the fridge, hoping to find something appetizing for breakfast. As I search, I can't stop thinking about waking up next to Jake this morning. We've been best friends for so long, but recently I've started seeing him in a new light. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, how considerate he is, it stirs up the feelings I've been trying to suppress. I shake my head slightly and settle on making some eggs and toast.

As I cook, memories of last night come flooding back. The wine, the laughter, the gentle way he pulled me close on the couch as we played games. My heart flutters just thinking about how natural and right it felt being cuddled up next to him. But I can't read too much into it. Jake is my oldest friend, he probably sees the intimacy as purely platonic. The sizzle of the eggs brings me back to reality. I quickly plate the food and grab a mug of coffee before heading to the living room. I'll just relax and enjoy this lazy Saturday morning.

I'm about halfway through my breakfast when I hear Jake's footsteps shuffling down the hallway. He emerges, hair sticking up adorably, letting out a big yawn. "Mornin' sunshine," he says with a sleepy grin. I feel my cheeks warm at the nickname. "Morning. I made some extra if you want it," I reply, nodding toward the kitchen. "You're the best." Jake passes over to dish up a plate, giving me a perfect view of his lean back muscles stretching against his thin t-shirt. I quickly avert my eyes as he returns to the couch. As he sits next to me, our arms brush and I feel that spark of electricity again.

Jake doesn't seem to notice, just digs into his eggs happily. We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks up again.

"That was a fun night last night, wasn't it?" His eyes meet mine with a warm smile. "We'll have to do it again soon." I return the smile, hoping he can't see the longing behind it. "Yeah, it was really nice." Nice to just relax and be ourselves without any expectations or pressures. Nice to feel...that close to him.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

~~~~~~~~~~

Jake has a friend named Jay. When Jake isn’t at work or at the house, he is most likely hanging out with Jay. Jay is a go with the flow kind of guy and was kind of a womanizer. There’s nothing wrong with it, but I try not to hang out with Jake when Jay is there for that reason.

Jake and Jay always go out for drinks on Saturday nights. I can’t remember the last time he was home on a Saturday night and I didn’t have to take care of him the next morning. He routinely stays at Jay’s house that night then gets an Uber back here the next morning.

Jake and Jay's Saturday night routine carried on like clockwork most weekends. Around 9 PM, Jay would pick Jake up and they'd head to their usual bar downtown. The two friends would drink heavily, telling outrageous stories and shamelessly checking out any attractive women who passed by.

For Jake, it was just a guys' night out away from work stress. But for Jay, it was a chance to flirt and see if he could add another notch to his bedpost. Jake didn't partake in that behavior himself, but he also didn't reproach Jay for it. He figured it was just Jay's way.

Come last call, the two would be pretty sloshed. Instead of dealing with an Uber that late, Jake would just crash at Jay's place. He'd wake up hungover the next morning and request a ride from a car service back home.

When he arrived home disheveled, I'd already have water and painkillers ready for him. I hated having to nurse him after these nights, but it was better than having Jay's leering presence around me. His constant objectification of women made me deeply uncomfortable. So I put up with Jake's hangovers to avoid that part of their friendship dynamic.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Jake opens the front door. I can hear him complaining about his headache already. He sets his keys down and immediately lays down in the couch.

"Hey babygirl, where is the aspirin? Do we have any aspirin left?" he asks groggily. A small chuckle escapes my lips before I turn around to look at him, smiling slightly. “I already got it out for you, and here is a glass of water”. His eyes are closed as I place the pills in his hand and he smiles once they make contact. “Thank you so much for taking care of me princess.” he praises as he shot the tablets into his mouth.

I giggle. This man is ridiculous. A loud yawn escapes his lips and I smile. As much as I hate seeing him like this, I am content with letting him have his fun every once in a while. His shirt is buttoned incorrectly, showing off his muscular chest. I look back at his face. His eyes were opened and he noticed me staring.

“What’s wrong Princess?” he slurs. “Do I look stupid or something?” “No Jake, you look great” I reply truthfully. “You just looked a little tired is all.”

Jake rolls over on the couch and turns onto his side. “I know you’re going to tell me I should rest more, but it’s so hard to sleep when you’re not in the same room.”

“Really? You usually fall asleep within seconds. Why is that?” He shrugs. “Don’t know babe. Just don’t like being alone.” I frown. That’s true enough. Jake never really liked being by himself. Ever since we were in diapers, he had always been surrounded by people. His parents, coworkers…me.

I decide to ask something rather personal instead. Maybe that will distract us for a while. “How’s your mom doing lately? Do you miss her?” Jake doesn’t respond right away. He starts fidgeting under my gaze. His hands begin picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion.

“Yeah, yeah. I miss her. I wish she wouldn’t be working so much now. She used to work less back when we were high school, you know? I still get worried sometimes” he answers with a slight edge in his voice. “It’s okay Jake. You know she likes working for your dad. It helps pay for everything” I remind him softly. He nods slowly. After a few moments, he finally breaks the silence.

“Why do you ask?” I guess he was caught off guard by the question. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen them, Australia isn’t in walking distance, ya know.” I try to cheer him up.

He sighs and looks down at the couch. “I guess I just wish I was able to spend more time with her like I did when I was younger. It doesn’t matter though.” He shakes his head dismissively. “She’ll come visit whenever she can. I’m just glad we both decided to live somewhere else for college. I would definitely have missed our family trips.”

“Oh…” I bite my lip unsure what to say to comfort him. He’s always taken his mother very seriously. Even when he was young he often complained that she worked too hard and stressed herself out, which only made him madder. In all fairness, she did work extremely hard—even harder than he ever could. And now that she has found some semblance of stability, he worries that he won’t be able to provide for her the lifestyle he wanted for her.

I reach out and pat Jake's arm reassuringly. "I know how much you miss your mom. But she's doing what she needs to in order to help take care of the bills and your dad. You know she'd be here if she could."

Jake nods slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I just wish there was more I could do from here, instead of feeling so helpless being so far away. I know my dad would want me there as well" He runs a hand through his tousled hair. "At least I have you around. Don't know what I'd do. You kinda of bring a feeling of home to me. I hope that made sense.”

I feel my cheeks flush a little at his words. "Well, you know I'll always be here for you," I reply, trying to keep my tone light.

“Thank you sweet heart.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Our parents went to University together. That’s how they met. My mom met Jake’s mom in a sociology class, and they have been best friends ever since. Being college bestfriend basically guarantees that your kid will have someone to grow up with, and they took advantage of that. He has litterally been there for every life event my mom felt was important enough to let him in on.

Though we didn’t become friends by choice, we were latched onto eachother ever since we were introduced. I remember I would ball my eyes out when even Jake got sick because it meant I couldn’t hang out with him after school or have play dates on the weekends. As we grew up, the situations weren’t as innocent. I would confide in him when I was upset, and he would hold me in his arms after my nightmares. I even found comfort in him after my numerous hearts breaks in highschool. Though none of my relationships were ever that serious, I was still unmistakably heartbroken.

Jake was never really a ladies man in highschool, or in general. He studied more on acedemics, which I guess was a good idea considering where he is now. Although I’d never said anything about it, his dating career was pretty dead for several years. In my opinion, it seemed unfair to Jake to not go on dates after highschool. While I understood why he wasn’t interested, it seemed a waste not to try. After all, I’m sure he could get any chick he wanted if he tried, I mean look at him. He had grown from a cute kid playing video games to one who had a perfect body and gorgeous features to match. So yeah, I loved that he was a boy and my friend. But there was no way I could give myself completely to such a man, especially with our history.

Jake is a lot different when I’m around, a lot more caring and loving. I’m reminded of all those times when I would find Jake crying when we came back from vacation during our sophomore year, or how he would suddenly appear at my room door at 5am looking for reassurance or help. At the time, I thought it was because he needed someone to talk to about the things troubling his mind, but now that I think about it , it’s kind of obvious he’s lonely. His dad has been in and out of the hospital recently. I don’t really want to push Jake into going into detail about his condition because it might make him emotional, but I just know that it is another thing that is weighing on him.

When I first started seeing him more and more recently, I thought maybe he wanted us to become closer friends. I mean, he was always talking about how much he adores spending time with me, and how grateful he is to me for saving him and bringing him back to life. I think the situation with his parents are weighing down on him more than I realize.

~~~~~~~~~~

The rhythmic tapping of rain against the window pane fills the hushed stillness of my bedroom. I lie awake, Jake's sleeping form curled up beside me, his head pillowed on my chest. His eyebrows are furrowed even in slumber, mouth turned down in a soft frown - the worry lines etched across his features never seem to fully fade these days. Gently, I brush some stray locks of hair off his forehead, my thumb tracing over the crease between his brows. Jake's been carrying the entire weight of his family's struggle on those broad shoulders.

A quiet sigh escapes his lips and he burrows deeper into my side, one arm slinging possessively over my waist. We've been a tangle of limbs like this more nights than not recently. After the latest bout of bad news about his dad, Jake sought me out like a man wandering through the desert in desperate need of water. I remember the rawness in his voice as he begged to stay in his room, to be held and comforted, the same way I always have. Whatever Jake needs from me, he'll never be turned away.

Trailing my fingers through Jake's hair, I allow myself to drink in every detail of him in this rare moment of peace. The slight upturn of his perfectly sloped nose. The way his plump lips are parted just enough to allow shallow puffs of breath to ghost across my skin. He really is beautiful in the most masculine, rugged way. Not that I'd ever say that out loud - it would be mortifying if Jake caught me ogling him like some lovesick fool. Then again, I've been a lovesick fool for the better part of a decade when it comes to him.

Lost in the flow of my thoughts, I don't even register the soft snuffling noises at first. It's only when Jake's eyelashes start fluttering that I glance down to find him blinking up at me groggily. Without a word, he shifts until his head is cradled in the crook of my neck, placing a slow, scorching kiss to the exposed skin of the side of my neck.

The world seems to screech to a halt. That...was definitely intentional. Purposefully intimate. There's no way it was an accident or a brief moment of sleep-hazy confusion. Not with the way Jake's pupils are blown wide, his lips parting to reveal the tip of his tongue darting out to wet them instinctively.

Just as quickly as the spark ignited, Jake seems to deflate, burying his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder with a muffled whimper. His hands are fisting in the fabric of my sleep shirt, clutching me with a white-knuckled grip like I'm his lifeline back to the surface. Like if he doesn't hold on, he might drown. "Hey hey hey…" I gently stroke the length of his spine calming him. "You're okay now, everything is alright, relax..." Jake's breathing gradually slows. Gradually, he begins to relax, his fingers slackening their death grip in my shirt.

A few moments pass in silence before he lifts his head and looks directly at me. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, probably from all the crying. They’re red and glassy, a stark contrast to his usually flawless complexion. "Sorry," he murmurs. I shrug slightly. "Don't apologize." After a few sniffles, I feel his breathing become more consistent and his face is dry. He starts to do that cute breathing that I talked about. After I realized that he has met some sort of peace and fell asleep, I fell asleep soon after.

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning light filters in through the cracks of my blinds, shining over Jake's sleeping body in a soft glow. My eyes trace the line of his jawbone, the gentle rise and fall of his bare chest as he breathes. He looks so tranquil like this.

Jake smells so fucking good. If I could lay on his chest and take it his scent all day, I really would. Not to mention his face is extremely handsome. He has the face that other guys wish they had. It’s very obvious he takes care of himself.

I can't stop replaying that moment from last night over and over in my mind. The heat of Jake's lips pressing against the skin of my neck. Part of me was desperate to surge forward then and seal my mouth over Jake's, to finally give in to the magnetic pull that's been drawing me to him.

But I didn't. I couldn't. Because I'm also terrified of what exploring these feelings could mean for our relationship.

Losing him isn't an option I can fathom. And he seemed to make the same choice in that moment by turning away, burying his face against my neck with a whimper that could have been either anguished or relieved.

We're cowards, the two of us. Content to dance around the fire instead of being set ablaze

Part of me wonders if Jake was hoping for something in return. Maybe a kiss? Maybe he did it to show it trust and comfort for me. He knows what he is doing. The moment his lips touched my neck, my whole body shivered. I wanted more but I contained myself.

My body still hums with the memory of his kiss, nerves tingling with equal parts of dread. I want to reach out and trail my fingertips over the golden skin of his forearm, to breathe him in and see if he tastes how I've imagined on my tongue.

How many more moments like last night can I survive before the truth comes out? I don't have the answers. All I know is that I'm still undeniably his - body, mind and heart.

It has been too many nights where I imagine his lips against mine. The way he chills my spine when whispers in my ear makes me crave hearing his voice. I wonder what he would be like in a relationship with me, he treats me like a princess already, I don’t know how much better it could get.

My mind drifts to memories of him holding me tight when I was upset, his muscular arms engulfing me in a warm embrace. The feeling of safety and contentment that would wash over me in those moments. If I could experience that every night by his side, it might just be pure bliss.

I fantasize about waking up intertwined with Jake, our legs tangled together as we trade kisses and touches unhurried by the outside world. Combing my fingers through his bed hair while he peppers light kisses along my jawline.

Maybe there could be slowmake-out sessions on the couch, all heated caresses and desperate roaming hands before things inevitably progress further. I would lavish every sculpted line of Jake's body with devoted attention. I imagine he would be an attentive, generous lover, just as giving in the bedroom as he is in every other aspect of his life.

I also can’t get over the mental hurdle that maybe it is kind of gross that I see my bestfriend this way. I could easily mistake all of the kind things he does and how he treats me as something more than what he intends it to be, and that would make me uneasy. I have never done anything sexual with him and anything that would imply sexual attraction, yet I am still here wondering what it is like to have sex with him.

~~~~~~~~~~

I really need to get my feelings sorted out soon because they are just going to keep building up until they eventually burst, and I really don’t want Jake to witness that.The week went the same again. and again. and again. Wake up, go to work, do nothing after. But recently, Jake got a promotion at his job, which was grounds for celebration.

The local diner is busy with the lunch crowd, the air thick with aromas of burgers sizzling on the griddle and fresh baked pie. Jake and I slip into our usual corner booth, the cracked vinyl cushions molding to our forms like old friends. This place has been our go to spot since we started university here. We've shared so many moments in this very booth over the years. Happy celebrations or acing a big exam.

Which is why the thick tension clouding the air between us right now feels so alien. Instead of our usual easy camaraderie, I can barely look at Jake without my pulse kicking up. The memory of his firm chest brushing mine, those plush lips just a table length away, has my skin flushing hot. I squeeze my thighs together secretly, desperate for any kind of friction to alleviate the slow burn of arousal low in my belly.

Just being this close to Jake is enough to have that want unfolding all over again. Filling my head with flashes of how it could feel to finally give in - his weight blanketing me, our bodies moving together in a sinuous rhythm as his mouth trails searing kisses along my neck. "Hey." Jake's low rumble jolts me out of the vivid fantasy.

"You're zoning out, sweetheart. Everything okay?" My cheeks flame darker, that suddenly seems too intimate. I duck my head, but not before catching the unmistakable smirk curling at the corners of Jake's lips. That insufferable, cocky smirk he knows drives me crazy. I want to kiss it off his stupidly perfect face. Or maybe bite at the sharp line of his jaw, put that arrogant look to better use while I'm straddling his lap and--

"Fine," I mumble, hooking a loose strand of hair behind my ear to avoid meeting Jake's eyes. The small movement causes our elbows to brush together on the tabletop. His skin is so soft. Jake's brow furrows, like he doesn't miss the way I've gone tense and flustered all over again. Before I can blink, his hand is covering mine. Those long fingers tenderly stroking along my knuckles, smoothing over my suddenly clammy skin.

Slowly, purposefully, Jake tugs my hand closer until my palm is cupping his scruffy jaw. I suck in a sharp, shaky breath at the contact, at being able to feel the rasp of his five o'clock shadow against my sensitive skin. Jake holds me there for a moment, those meltingly warm eyes boring into mine like he's trying to read my mind.

Then, in the most tempting act of torture imaginable, Jake presses his lips to my wrist in the barest brush of mouth against pulse point. I swear I could die right then and there. He slowly pulls away, looking up to meet my eyes once again. Our gaze meets, intense and lustful, filled with a hunger that only he knows how to create. This feels so wrong, so dangerous. The fact he's staring down at my lips, licking his subconsciously causes a slight hitch in my breathing. A tiny part of me wants to lean forward and press my lips to his. But I stop the impulse with the thought of what we did last night, and the consequences of getting caught again.

Instead, I let out a sigh and break eye contact before pulling my hand away and placing my elbow on the table. I rub my thumb across my wrist absentmindedly while avoiding Jake's gaze, the words I want to say stuck somewhere inside my throat like rocks. There isn't anything I can do. What I have with Jake is different now. I'm scared shitless to tell him how I truly feel.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" Jake asks, worry laced into his tone. He places a hand on my thigh, making me jump slightly. “It’s nothing, really” I lied. The server comes over to the table to take our order. “What could I get started for you to drink” he says.

-

Our meal goes by normally, Jake pretending that he had done nothing earlier. Afterward, we head home, the silence thickening the further into town we get. There’s nothing for me to say, no reason to prolong this conversation I’m dreading anymore. He must sense my sudden change of mood. He drops his arm from around my shoulders and lets his hand fall limply back onto his knee.

We walk silently in the direction of our house. Neither of us speaking. It’s almost as if we’re both waiting for the other to make the first move. I have an overwhelming urge to turn to him and kiss him.

~~~~~~~~~~

I can’t stop thinking about Jake. He is the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to bed. Over the past few weeks, I feel like he has become a lot more touchy, which don’t really mind. He smiles for a little longer when we eat together. We have slept in each others room a lot more often than before. I may just be over analyzing it.

Jake is going out with Jay again. As usual, I don’t plan on him coming home tonight, and I will wake up to a hungover Jake. Jay isn’t really the friend to take care of you when you feel ill, so that responsibility is left on me.

I hate to admit, but when Jake isn’t home for a night, I fight the urge to sleep in his bed. I have been sleeping in his bed with him so often that it leaves me in withdrawal when we aren’t in the same bed.

Just being in his room, his scent diffused in the air, it makes me miss him so much more. Even without thinking about the fact that it is his room, the bed is so much more comfortable than mine, which is all the better reason to sleep there.

I walk in, already in my shorts and t-shirt, and wonder around. He has the picture of us that his mom took when we were first leaving for Korea framed on his nightstand.

I pick it up and examine it closely. It is the one photo where we didn’t appear stiff. I remember the day clearly; I was standing with him, grinning broadly. I never expected to smile so much when I was young, but my memories of our trip leave a bright happy feeling inside my stomach.

I set the photo back down and I lift the blanket from the corner of the bed. I slide into the bed, laying on his side like I usually do when he isn’t here. I instantly melt into the sheets. I scroll on my phone whilst fighting my eyelids to stay awake, but eventually I fall asleep prematurely.

Jake usually keeps his room pretty cool, which calls for cuddling closely under the blankets. In the middle of my sleep, I am shot awake when my cold limbs are instantly warmed by an unexpected sensation. Why was Jake home?

Jake continues to get comfortable under the blanket, not even batting an eye at the fact that I was just sleeping in his bed. I pull him closer by his waist to fulfill the rest of the warmth that my body craves.

“Why are you shivering sweetheart, you could have turned on the heater.” he worries.

“I wanted the temperature to be tolerable when you got back in the morning” such a stupid explanation. “Speaking of, why are you here right now? what happened to Jay’s?” I questioned, completely forgetting how we got into this situation in the first place.

“Jay was feeling ill so we called it a night pretty early, I only got three shots down.”

Jake runs a lazy finger over my hip bone and leans in to nuzzle the crook of my neck. Shit. He’ll notice the way I react to his touches and I won’t be able to explain myself. Fuck.

“I thought I would come to my room and catch up on sleep but look what we have here instead” he says with that stupid smirk on his face.

“Oh- oh I’m sorry.” I slowly pull away from him to make way back to my room. “No babe, please don’t go, I want you to stay” he begs while keeping our fingers latched to keep our extended arms together. He then latched his hand around my wrist to slowly pull me back down to his level on the bed. It’s all happening too fast. He uses the same hand to comb his fingers through the strands at the bottom of my hair on the back of my head, and keeps his hand there entangled. He uses his hand to guide my head into a sensual kiss. He gently pressed his lips against mine. So plump, so dreamy. I reciprocated the kiss instantly, matching his pace and moving our lips in sync so perfectly. The way our lips intertwined so naturally gave me actual chills.

After giving me what I have dreamt about for years, he pulls away, leaving a string of saliva to connect our lips. He looks into my eyes, his pupils as voids. “Please stay” he whispers again. I nod dumbly, my brain still short circuiting as Jake bites is bottom lip. He’s so fucking beautiful, my eyes are practically burning holes into his lips.

His fingers gently run over my cheekbone, lingering on my jawline, tracing along my nose. “How did I ever deserve someone as beautiful as you?” he murmurs. His voice is full of admiration and love and affection. He trails his fingers along my jaw, pausing to lightly graze my collar bone, making goosebumps erupt across my skin. The heat radiating off Jake’s body is practically burning me alive.

Without thinking about it for a second longer, I close the gap between our lips again. We moved in sync, in harmony. It feels like my lips were only made to kiss his. He rests his free hand on the side of my face and uses it as grip to deepen the kiss. Kissing him I had a sense of saftey. The longer our lips were together, the more open I was to his attempts at adding tongue into the mixture. It was a sloppy wet mess, but is all I have ever wanted.

I slide my hand between out warm bodies and feel across his obvious bulge in his boxers. He instantly let out a groan when I took his imprint into my palm. I stroked it gently as we continued with intertwined tongues. His grunts and breathlessness was insanely arousing.

It was clear that we were both extremely sleepy. After a few more minutes of kissing, we eventually pulled away, with no words spoken.

I try my best to hold in my moans as the warmness travels up my body like lava. He stops tracing my collarbone to trail his hands up the side of my body, stopping to stroke a line of soft kisses along the side of my neck.

My hands grasp tightly at the material covering Jake’s shoulder blades and I use that leverage to get back under the blankets with him. We both face eachother, with our legs crossing randomly over one another. He once again rests his head in the crook of my neck, leaving a kiss like he did once before. Only this time, I know his true intention.

~~~~~~~~~

The fall semester is starting back up again. Junior year, both is our schedules are jammed packed with upper division classes. Having to balance so many classes and still having to work to keep up with the bills for the house, Jake and I hardly see each other. Even though I love spending every single day with him, I feel like I’m living with a ghost whenever I see his empty seat. When I wake up every morning to find him gone, my heart starts to ache. It hurts knowing that we might not spend as much time together. I know that the sooner that this semester ends, the easier everything will be.

The end of the semester wasn’t going to be soon though, it’s barely September. I’ve decided to try and set a study date with Jake and make sure nothing was overlapping the times. We eventually agreed apon Thursday night after he got off of his afternoon job. Maybe around 8 o’clock. I was getting a head start on my Statistics work before he showed up because I knew it would take me a while. He eventually showed up close to 8:30.

I had my headphone covering my ears, shoulders slumped over my desk, and he comes up behind me and take my shoulders in his hands and sensually massages. “Ah thank youuuu~~~ my muscles are tight” I jumped at the unexpected pressure. He drives his thumbs a little bit deeper into my blades and slides his straight arms down my stomach for a hug. “I missed you” he griped with puppy dog eyes, resting his head on my shoulder. I take off my headphone and hold both of his forearms and pull him deeper into this awkwardly positioned hug.

After a few seconds he pulls away and grabs out his bag with his laptop, and runs to his room to grab his chair to pull up next to mine. I was still seated, watching, unable to take my eyes off him. He settles himself and puts the laptop on his knees in front of him. He opens his notebook, and turns the page to the worksheet for this month. My fingers naturally find their way to his back and scratch gently while he looks over his work. They made their way up his clothed back and into his hair and I ran them through this tangled hair. He let out a sigh of fufillment and he allows himself self to close his eyes to fully take in the relaxing feeling. He breaths in deeply and slowly, taking in my coconut scent.

“Fuck it” he says under his breath.

He turns in my directed and crashed his lips into mine with no hesitation. He wraps his arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. I was startled at the quick change in plans but my lips soon melted into his and I was under his control. My tongue dances along his bottom lip, asking for entrance as he obliges and gives access. He lifts me from my chair and pulls me over to straddle his thighs.

He guides his lips to mine again, running his hands down my back as he pushes me lower into his lap. I wrap my legs slightly around his waist for some sense of support. The sensual make out and lap straddling goes on and on, until he breaks away slightly to speak, “You can move if you want sweetheart”.

He reconnects our lips and I find myself needing any sort of friction to ease the pressure building between my legs. Subconsciously grinding my core over his thigh slowly. I bite down on his lower lip causing him to suck on my tongue immediately as a response. God, he tastes so good, like the cocoa butter lip balm I got him for his birthday.

I continue grinding over his thighs picking up the aggressiveness, as he continues to run his hands through my hair. “Feeling desperate, darling?” he teases, smirking as he tries to pull me back into a kiss. “Shut up” I harden my fist and hit the front of his shoulder. He always finds a way to tease me. He chuckles as we connect our lips once again.

He slides both of his hands under my thighs stands up from his chair, and I wrap my legs around his body as he carries me to the bed. He slowly lays me down on my back with my legs still wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t break the kiss but as soon as he sets me down, I can feel his erection bulging through his pants rubbing against me sweet spot. We stop kissing momentarily as he looks at me, with lust filled eyes. He lets one of his hands rest on my chest, while the other traces along the side of my neck to my chin, tilting my head upward and pressing his forehead against mine. “Look at how gorgeous you are right now,” he says with pure adoration. “I can’t help myself when I’m with you.” A sudden surge of desire hits me and my hands grip his hips tighter as he starts to trail kisses on my jawline. I can feel an undeniable wetness spreading in my panties. I am becoming desperate.

I placed my hands at the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it up, but he finished the job and lifted it over his head and threw it to the side. I have seen Jake shirtless a million times over but this time is different. It feels more intimate than the last ones I have seen. I felt my throat tighten as my eyes were drawn to his chest which looked absolutely flawless. “So beautiful” I whisper and I trace my fingers over his abs and chest. His body looks perfectly carved and sculpted by a god. “It’s all for you, baby” he cooed.

I reach my arms around his back and gently dig my nails into his skin as he continues to kiss me. He grabs the bottom of my shirt and pulls it over my head, revealing my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra since I had been home all afternoon, and I definitely wasn’t expecting this. As soon as he sees them, he takes one of them in his hand. He holds my right breast in his palm and gently rubs it between his thumb and index finger.

His gaze remains focused on my chest as his mouth begins to travel down, taking his time to enjoy each and every piece of my body. He stops to give me another kiss before placing his lips on my nipple. He sucks on my nipple whilst his teeth nipped at my flesh, causing me to moan lowly. I grabbed his hair pulling him closer to me. I grind my pelvis onto his dick, eliciting a groan and he removes his mouth, making a ‘pop’ sound, to look at his next target intensely. He took my other breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around my nipple and softly sucking, making me arch my back and having a moan escape my lips. Jake trails his hands down my waist while keeping his mouth latched to me.

His fingers went into the top of my sweatpants and I stopped him. “I have never done this before” I admitted. “Do you want me to stop?” he questions. How could I ever want him to stop? He is the only person I have ever imagined losing my virginity to. That aside I simply answer “No, Jakey, I trust you”

He continues to pull me pants down and off my legs and throws it to the side like he did with the other articles of clothing. He licks up my neck and comes to my ear. “I have never done this either, we can learn together” he whispered. Hearing this made my noticibly more wet, the way he whispers into my ear raises every single hair on my body. The thought of us having our first times with each other made this whole so much more meaningful and made me a lot less hesitant.

The only thing I have left on are my black panties and Jake looks like he is a man with a mission. I grab his bulge through his jeans and gently massage. He becomes a groaning mess as I palm his desperate tip. He is barely even able to keep his lips a decent distance apart for me to kiss him. “Fuuuck your hand feels so good” I take my other hand to start unbuckling his jeans, which he seems to have no problem with.

I pulled the belt off and unbuttoned his jeans and pulls them down, to where he took them all the way off. All he has left is his boxers. I can clearly see the imprint of he large cock through the thin fabric. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Does it look too big?, we can stop now if we need to” he questioned, seeing the fear on my face. I gulped and said “No, I can take it.”

I continued stroking through his boxers and he moved my panties to the side and rubbed gently on my folds. I gasped at the feeling. The better it started to feel, the less and less I was able to focus on Jake and more on myself. He had me wrapped around his finger. No amount of masturbating could compare to the way he is making me feel within these few minutes.

He slid his fingers down my clit and inserted one. He pumped it in and out until I felt that I was ready for more. Then 2. It hurt a little more but I slowly got used to it. He leaned his head down while his fingers still stuffed me and started leaving kisses on my clit. For having so little experience, he worked his finger and tongue like a professional. The way his tongue danced across my sensitive bud made my body shutter, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“I love the sounds of your whimpers” he moaned against my clit teasing me. I couldn’t even respond. My breathing quickened, and the more his fingers fucked me, the more I could tell how wet I was getting. I whimpered again and I gripped his hair signaling how good he was making me feel. “It tastes just as sweet as I imagined” he praised. He has imagined this before? What else has he imagined?

His fingers slowed down and he slipped two inside of me simultaneously. My hips bucked up and I let out a small gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. He continued working his fingers inside of me. He was eating like a man who hadn’t seen a meal in a week.

“I want to taste you now.” I protest, pulling his face up for a kiss. His eyes look like he is drunk as his tongue swirled with mine and he gave me a slow deep kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip, then bit me, and finally opened his mouth and licked my tongue with his. He pulls away and allows me to pull his boxers past his hips and onto the ground. His dick sprung out. God, it was a lot thicker than I imagined.

I take the base of it and put my lips against the tip, swirling my tongue around. His muscular hand combs through the top of my hair and gently grips it as I begin to take more of his length in my mouth. I could feel it sliding smoothly in and out of my throat. His grip on my hair tightens and he guides me to take more in moderation. “God yes baby, that’s it” he encouraged. I looked up at him, the room filled with breathy moans and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I felt the waves of his voice vibrating through my lips as he spoke, causing goosebumps to erupt across my entire body. I could feel my juices flowing through my pussy and down my belly.

I continue sucking him until he is almost completely buried inside my mouth. He leans down placing his lips beside my ear. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer” he whispers, making me smile.

He slowly pulls himself out of my mouth and lifts me back onto the bed. I use my arms to cover my chest, I am a little nervous. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “Don’t hide yourself, you look perfect darling” he said proceeding to take my tongue in his mouth. God this man loves using his tongue. I have never felt this type of intimacy before, and to think I am covering that ground with my bestfriend, was not how I thought it was going to go to say the least.

He brushes his tip in between my folds, spreading my wetness around. “Are you sure you want to keep going? We can stop here, just say the words and I will stop” “Please keep going” I am practically begging. He seems to enjoy my obvious desperation. He guide the tip in slowly, trying not to overwhelm me. He goes in a little deeper. I wince in pain. “Ah baby go a little slower” I pleaded. I didn’t want him to stop but it was definitely starting to hurt. He held the same spot for a few more seconds, then slowly pushed more in. I have gotten used to the stinging, as it slowly turns to pleasure.

“Shit princess, you’re so fucking tight” Jake praises. He was getting lost in his own world since he has never felt a warm pussy wrapped aroung his dick before, especially not one like mine. I felt his tip hit the enterance of my cervix. He bottomed out. He didn’t move. He didn’t even want to move, he was just enjoying the moment of his cock being buried deep inside his bestfriend. “You ok babe?” he asked, concerned by the lack of movement from me. “Yeah, just give me a second” I replied, attempting to get myself under control.

I began to relax, letting the warmth envelop my entire body. I signal that his is able to move. He slowly pulls his cock out of my cunt, and immediately pushes it back in. He rests both of his arms next to my face and comes down to kiss me. I can see the faint beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “You do not know how long I have been wanting to do this” He whispered into my ear. Once again, Jakes words send a tingle down my spine. He instantly latched himself onto my neck, sucking harshly while still keeping a slow pace down below. I grip his brown head of hair as he leaves purple marks on my skin, bruising my neck. He pulls out and goes back in, this time at a consistent rate.

Our torsos are in complete contact and he sets both of his hands under my back. I wrap my legs around his waist to allow him deeper access, which he so desperately needed. His lips were locked with mine. Our tongues were dancing along with each other as well as our chests. Every time he would suck on my lower lip, I moan against his lips.

“This is what I have been dreaming about” He says breaking away and kissing my nose. He finds me comfortable with his picking up the pace, and he did with no hesitation. He nuzzles into my neck with his hair partially resting on my face. There was no pain left to feel and my whole body was washed over with pleasure. His length fit so perfectly into my warm cunt, like we were make to only fuck eachother.

Jake head still right next to mine, I turn my head and whisper “Jakey, it feels so gooood~~~~” with inconsistency in my breathing. Jake’s ears were pleasured as if he were listening to his favorite song. He slowed down the pace, only to drive his dick deeper into my swollen cunt with each thrust. “Oh my god it’s feels so fucking good, you taking my cock like this.” he whines in my ear. He pulls away from my neck and just watching himself fuck into my pussy.

There was so much sweat on his face it was so fucking hot. It was dripping off his chin and onto my shoulder and neck. His hair was starting to get wet. He took both of my legs over his shoulders, making sure to maintain eye contact. Each stroke was deeper and deeper. Faster and faster. He was getting desperate. I don’t know how much more my inexperienced pussy can handle. He takes his thumb and gently rubs my clit. Ugh, I have never felt this sort of sensation before, being fucked at the same time.

My moans became more uncontrollable and my legs started to close in. “Fuckkkkk Jakey I am about to cum” I am on the verge of tears, overstimulated with pleasure. The pressure on my clit mixed with the repeated abuse of my cervix was enough to drive me over the edge. “Mmmmm yes doll, cum on my cock” he says lowly. My walls tighten around him and my hips are shaking. My heart is beating at 1000bpm, not a coherent thought left in my fucked-dumb mind. He practically has to pry my legs apart to maintain access to my slit. He holds my hips in place as he gives me a few more strokes. His became less and less powerful.

Once he felt his orgasm coming, he quickly pulled out of me, letting out a loud groan, and shot his strings of white cum all over my tummy and chest. The room was filled with loud pants and the scent of sex. “You are all I have ever wanted” I reach up to tuck his hair behind his ear, not minding the fact that his face was soaked. We rest our foreheads together and rub our noses across each other as we both try to catch our breath.

After a second of recovery, He runs to the bathroom and grabs a rag to clean me up. I could barely move my body, my entire entity was more than sore. It hurt to move, all I could do is lay there. Jake returns with a cold washcloth, and starts wiping off my stomach. “Do you need help getting cleaned up babe?” he asks, sitting down beside me, his arm around my naked torso. “Could we take a bath together?” I suggested.

A bath together after the fact is far more intimate, and could give us some time to talk things over. “Of course” and smiles. “I can go get it set up right now, darling, you just rest for a few minutes” He gives me a kiss on the nose and forehead before heading to run the faucet.

~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t know how I could let this happen. I lay on my bed rerunning all of the events writhing the last hour in my head. I really don’t know why we both allowed it to go that far. I admit, I loved every second of it, but now that it’s over, we have to deal with the effects.

Jake comes back from running the faucet. He looks tired. Maybe a bath is something we both need. “Come here sweetheart” he brings a towel and sets it on the counter.

The bathroom mirror was completely fogged over. “Are you trying to make soup out of us?” I said jokingly. “I know you like taking your showers hot, so I thought maybe it would be the same for baths” he chuckled.

I dip my toes into the half full tub. Jake was right, the temperature was just how I liked it. I held onto his shoulder as I submerge my other foot. The water lapped over the rim of the bath tub.

I keep hold onto his hand so he can guide himself into the tub, taking a lot more balance and tolerance for him to try to get used to the boiling water. “God damn, you like it hot hot” he teases though I can see him furrowing his eyebrows at the heat.

“Oh don’t be such a baby” I tease him right back. He pouts playfully. I love seeing that kind of reaction from him. “I don’t mind” he mumbles in embarrassment, trying to hide the smile on his face.

Once his feet were able to get used to the water, we both slowly sat the rest of our bodies into the tub. Jakes hair is a mess, it’s going in all different directions. I reach out to tuck some of it behind his ears for him, and then cup his face in my palm. I stroke his cheek with my thumb. He tilts his head, there he goes with those irresistible puppy dog eyes again.

“What’s wrong baby?” he asks. I remain in eye contact with him. “Were you being serious? When you said you have dreamt about… that…?”

He’s silent. So much blood rushing to his face his cheeks are like strawberries. He scratched the back of his head. “I mean yeah… why wouldn’t I” he hesitated.

“I mean look at you, you are insanely attractive and we live together and have known each other forever. Of course my mind is going to wonder. It has wondered many more times than I would like to admit.” he explained himself.

Unintentionally, our bodies kept inching towards each other in that bath. I am some how a mere 6 inches away from his face. “Why haven’t you ever told me how you felt?”

“Because I was scared on how it would change our friendship”…. he had the exact same fear as I did. He was also afraid of losing one of his best friends. “If I tell you how I feel, you might think it’s weird or something” he whispers into my ear. “No I will understand, we have known each other our whole lives. How would it be weird?” I say softly.

He hesitates once again, and I can hear his heart start to pound. He closes the gap between us and rests his forehead on mine. “There is so much you don’t know” He breathes, still looking deep into my eyes. His words caused a flicker of anxiety inside of me. “There is so much I want to know about you, darling” I reassure.

“Well for starters I never thought this thing between us would become anything more than just friends” he confesses. It is hard for him to admit such things, but he has to show me that I matter more than he thinks. “It scares me, and I’m sorry that I let it go too far. I guess it’s because I’ve been waiting so long, and everything has changed so fast” he explained, he still had this worried look on his face like I were going to shut everything down. Everything had changed so fast.

“You have to stop worrying so much about me. You can trust me, okay? I’ll never judge or hate you or think any differently of you. All I want is for us to enjoy our first time together and enjoy each other. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you are to me”. I caress his face with my hands.

A small smile graces his features while he gazes back into my eyes. I lean forward and capture him in a long passionate kiss. Our lips moving in sync, tasting each others taste as if it was our first time doing it. We pull away and stare at each other. He places both of his palms on either side of my face, leaning in even closer. I place my lips in line with his.

My fingers run through his soaked hair, though I don’t know if it use from sweat or from water. “Jakey, if I am going to be honest, I have been feeling the same way. On nights where we don’t sleep in the same bed, I find myself getting less sleep and craving your warmth. I don’t regret anything that’s happened between us tonight. Admittedly, I have been wanting to do that with you for so long” I started ranting.

“When you were making love to me I felt like I was floating away and it felt so good I just wanted to stay here forever, like nothing else mattered. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to stay in this moment forever with you, but we both know that isn’t possible.” he continues, his voice cracking.

“Making love?” I chuckle. Such an interesting word choice. “Be quiet” he pushes back. “I’m just joking, but I agree”

He was clearly getting tired, letting out a yawn and fighting the force of his eyelids trying to close. “We should get to bed” I suggest. We soak the last few moments of the now comfortably hot water and get out of the tub. “You better not get water all over the floor, Jake” HE ALWAYS DOES THAT.

He grabs a towel for me and and one for himself and he wraps mine around my whole body width and pulls me for a hug. “I am glad we took a bath together sweetheart, try to get some rest” he whispers, and leaves an innocent kiss on my forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks consisted of school, work, and sleeping in the same bed with Jake pretty much every single night. We would exchange passionate kisses and I would bathe him when he was too tired from work or hanging out with Jay. And he would do the same for me. We never went as far to have sex again. We weren’t scared but we felt like we should wait.

We are on our way back to Australia for fall break. Jake will finally get to see his parents and I will get to see mine. We get to have a whole week without having to worry about responsibilities. Which I know both of us desperately need. We touch down in Australia around maybe 3pm on the first Saturday of the break. We only brought carry on luggage for convenience and time.

“Have everything?” He questioned me as we were getting out of our seats. “I think so” I smile, so excited to see my parents. We arranged for Jake’s mom to pick us up from the airport. She had a large SUV able to fit all of our stuff comfortably. Once we passed through all of the security and customs, Jake calls her to see where she is parked. On speaker I hear her say “9 rows down from the south enterance” she explains. “Thanks mom, see you in a sec” Jake says about to hang up the phone. “Thank you Mrs Sim” I make sure she hears before he presses the red button.

We hurry to get out of the packed airport so meet up with his mom. The weather was cold and misty and it was hard to see. When we finally arrived outside the south enterance, we could hardly believe what we saw. Layla comes up running at full sprint in me and Jake’s direction. She jumped up onto bother of us, layering our faces and arms with slobbery licks and he tail wagging so hard it may as well had fallen off.

Once Layla was all calmed down we put our luggage into the trunk. We swing up the door and the vehicle seems oddly empty. “Where is dad?” Jake questioned his mom. “He is getting worse…. he wasn’t able to make it today, I had to take him back to the hospital last night” she explained. I could already see the heart break in his eyes. “Oh” We packed everything up and his mom offered for me to sit in the front seat. Honestly, I wanted to sit in the back seat and comfort Jake, so I made up the excuse that Layla should sit in the front.

The mood in the car ride home was off. I don’t know if it was from the weather or his fathers health but Jake was not as energetic as he was before. I know he doesn’t deserve everything happening to his dad so I will just try to support him through it.

~~~~~~~~~~

I never really gave it much thought, but the more I put the pieces together, I think maybe the reason Jake is so insistent on getting black out drunk with Jay on the weekends may have to do with his father.

Jake has never in his life had a healthy coping mechanism. I remember a lot through out grade school, he would feel guilty or take blame for things that were not his fault, just to mediate the situation. When he did this, he did not react to the discipline very well, but it seems like he would much rather face conveniences than to start an argument over the original problem.

Jake let a lot of people take advantage of him, and it is still something that we have to work on, but knowing the situation with his dad, I know he has a lot more things to worry about now that usual.

Many of the people excluding his parents are alcoholics, any family event we went to together, the main thing being passed around was a bottle. When we were younger, things made him build resentment towards them but the older we got, the more willing he was to try alcohol, only adding more and more each time until he is where he is at now.

Jay isn’t the type of friend to stop this behavior either. I will never understand why Jake is such good friends with him cause he never seems to have the best intentions or good interest in mind. I can’t be the one to tell him that they should stop being friends cause at the end of the day, Jake’s relationship with alcohol won’t be healed in a split second.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing really eventful happened over the span of the after noon, the rain put everything to a halt. I slept in the guest bed in Jake’s house for the first night but was unable to fall asleep for the majority of the night. Jake’s mom rushed into the room around 1:30 am.

“Hey are you awake? We have to go the hospital, it’s my husband. Please wake up Jake while I grab the keys” She said with an extremely shaken voice full of urgency. I shoot out of the bed and put my shorts back on and practically run down the hallway to Jake’s room. It is locked. I bang on the door frantically. “Jake! Jake get up now we have to go” I echo through the door. Quickly after he swings open his door with his shirt in his hand, in the middle of putting it on.

The SUV was already started when we got out the front door and we ran to get into the car and soon as we sat down she reversed and tried to explain. “He slipped into a coma. They said they are trying everything to get him to wake up but they have no idea why it happened because he was in decent shape before” she says with tears forming in her eyes.

I reach up to the front seat to scratch her shoulder to try and calm her. I don’t think there is anything someone can do in this situation to calm someone in this much distress down but I tried. She is going dangerously fast down the highway. I know that she has been working hard to keep them afloat and thing we’re starting to get better. After that I couldn’t stand to listen anymore and closed my eyes hoping that by some miracle she wouldn’t end up killing us.

After what seemed like hours we reached the hospital and were quickly taken to another private room where we could talk with him alone. Of course his dad wasn’t going to be able to say anything. But Jake still wanted him to listen. He took his fathers hand a caressed his palm with his fingers while he said what he needed to say. Once he was done, I gave Jake a hug as his red face were completely covered in tears.

“He will be okay, I promise” I reassured him. We walked out of the room to discover his mom sitting next to the window, face completely void of emotion. He hasn’t spoken a word since we have gotten here.

“You know…. he was really excited for you both to come back. He was practically counting down the days” she admitted, wiping a tear from here eye. “I was so excited with him” she added. Her words shatter my heart. How is she not screaming in anger right now. Angry at the world for doing this to her innocent husband. That was something I admired about her. She was always able to contain her emotions well, almost too well.

Seeing both her and Jake in this state was absolutely terrible. I knew it would only take a miracle to fix this given his dads condition. “It’ll all be okay, Jake, don’t cry” I assure him. “It won’t, how am I supposed to deal with this? How am I supposed to go back to school without seeing him, talking to him… it hurts” “There is still a chance that he will make it Jake, don’t give up on it. I know he wants you to wait for him”

He couldn’t say anything, all he could do was bury his face into my shoulder and sob. He tried to form words, but they were only choked noises which caused him to cry even harder. “Shh its okay, I am here” I assure him. Me, Jake and his mom spent the night in the hospital. His mom slept in the room with his dad and me and Jake slept in a guest waiting room. Well, I was the only one who was able to get some sleep. Jake was up all night worrying about his father. I could hear him crying as I were trying to fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed and his fathers condition remained the same, and to be honest, Jake and his mom seemed like they kind of accepted that this was the way that things were going to be.

We were back at the house, his mom would just go to work and lock herself in her room until she had to go to work again and Jake and I were preparing to go back to Korea for the Winter semester.

Mrs Sim did not want to see us leave, and she made it very clear. We were her last hope with everything going on with her husband. I really wish me and Jake could stay back to support her but we have jobs and bills that we have to get back to, and life can’t just pause for us. We promised we would let her know how we are feeling, how much we missed each other and everything else that went along with saying goodbye.

We leave in 3 days, and we made it our mission to hang out with his mom as much as we could before we left. She hasn’t taken a break either… no time to her self she just has to keep working to pay for the house and the piling medical bills.

Those last few days, we took Mrs. Sim out for lunch at her favorite Thai restaurant. She seemed to genuinely smile for the first time in weeks as we joked and reminisced about times when all 4 of us were together. One night, we rented some classic movies she loved and made her favorite snacks. We cuddled up on the couch, enjoying the familiar feeling of just being together as a family again, if only briefly.

Jake and I helped around the house as much as we could - running errands, doing yard work, and cooking meals to give his mom a little respite. We made sure to soak in every moment because we didn't know when we'd all be together like that again.

~~~~~~~~~~

When it came time for our early morning departure back to Korea, Mrs. Sim took us both in for a tight hug, her eyes brimming with tears. "Take care of each other," she whispered hoarsely.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ Jake grabs our suitcases out of the trunk and his mom pulls me to the side.

“Please promise to take care of him for me. You have always been a safe place for him, I can only imagine how he has been feeling” she begged. I held bother of her hands in the palms of mine. “I promise, Mrs Sim, I will do everything in my power to take care of him, don’t worry. You have other things to worry about” I reassure her pulling her into a hug.

Layla climbs through the back of the car from the front seat and jumps out of the trunk to say good bye, jumping all over me and Jake just like when we first arrived. “Yes you’re such a good girl” he scruffs up her ears while giving her a kiss on the forehead. I gave Layla some belly rubs before his mom guided her back into the car.

“Please text me when you board, and call me when you land, I need to know that the two of you are safe.” said his mom. “Of course” we pulled her into one last hug. “I love you guys” she sobbed “I love you too” we said in unison as we walked towards to enterance, leaving his mom in the parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~

The ride back home was hard for Jake. 10 hours of restlessness. The only time I saw Jake act kind of okay was at our layover in Manila. I tried to leave him be for most of the trip.

-

We landed at the airport in Seoul and made our way back through customs and immigration, I swear the process of getting out of the airport is more stressful than planing a trip itself. We load our things into my car, missing the excitement that Layla brought to the car ride.

Before we got into the car, Jake comes behind me and turns me around into a hug. “I am really worried about her… my parents have been together for so long I can’t imagine how she would react with out him” he cried into my arms. “Your mom is a strong woman, I know it. She has you and I know she will be able to get through it.” I rub his back and lay my head into the crook of his neck.

I walk him over to his door and open it, letting him get into is and rest, we still had a 45 minute drive back to our place. I just let him ‘rest’ his eyes the whole way and I sat in silence trying not to wake him. The ride was bumpy, or maybe I was more aware of my surroundings not given that Jake wasn’t talking my ear off the whole time. I don’t mean it as a bad thing but he does a great job at keeping me company in the car. But that element was absent this time.

We were outside of our house quicker than expected. Jake was still fast asleep, he looked up he most peaceful than I have seen him these past few weeks I really did not want to wake him up. “Jakey we’re here” I whisper and gently grip his shoulder. He groans. He untucks his arms from under his shirt and rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the light.

We make way up to the door, he didn’t bother grabbing anything out of the car but I was completely okay with grabbing everything if it meant he would get some rest. As soon as we stepped in the door, he took off his shoes and hurried to his bedroom, he didn’t ever bother changing his clothes before plopping onto his bed in pure exhaustion.

I found myself following him to the bed and sitting on the edge and grazing his back with my fingernails. My hands made way up to his hair and I combed his strands with my fingers. He turns over to lay on his back and I sit and admire his beautiful face while his eyes are closed. So peaceful. I couldn’t fight the urge to lean down and give his a soft peck before heading back to the car.

He didn’t seem to mind, his lips were soft as they instantly melted into mine for a few seconds. He didn’t seem supprised or shocked at all. He made it feel natural. “Thank you” he said, barely audible. I leaned in for another kiss, a smile building on my face as our lips met. No verbal response was needed, my smile against his spoke for itself.

~~~~~~~~~~

We had gotten back into our normal work and school schedule following the break. I still was not seeing Jake as much as I would like and it seems like I was getting less and less information by the day on his dad, which worried me. I tried to call Mrs Sim every single day to check in and get updates, as well as update her on mine and Jake’s life. She treated me like a friend. Like a daughter. I am very thankful to be accepted by her in that way.

Jake was clearly getting more stressed with work and school and I couldn’t figure out a way to ease the stress for him, all I could do was hope that it wouldn’t end up being too much.

Mrs Sim told me briefly once while we were on a phone call that me and her call way more often that her and Jake do. Jake has always been a texter and his Mom simply had to deal with not hearing her baby boys voice as often as she would like, which is why it was weird when me and Jake were laying in my bed around 11pm and his phone starts ringing.

Both of us were on the verge of falling asleep and the light from his phone screen made the situation more uncomfortable. At first Jake just reached over and turned off the ringer.

“Hey did you even see who it was? What if it was important” I question his instinct to end the call. “Fine let me look” he groans.

He reached over and grabs his phone and looks at the screen ‘Mom’ is what it read. “Answer it!” I urged him. Jake was hesitant. I think he thought that this was going to be the call, which he has been preparing to avoid at all costs.

Instead of letting the line go to voicemail, I snatch the phone out of his hand and answer if myself. “Hello Mrs Sim, is everything alright?”

“I am so glad to hear your voice. Is Jake around? It is important. Put it on speaker” she said.

“You’re on speaker” I informed her.

“Jake, your father is home, I picked him up about an hour ago. The doctor said that septic shock caused him to go into the coma, and they were able to treat the infection and keep him steady with some blood and IV fluids. He woke up yesterday and has shown no signs of complication ever since. I will take him back in a few days for testing and a check up. They saved him Jake… They saved him.” His mother explained ecstatically, crying tears of happiness.

Jake’s face immediately lit up, with what I could see from the light of the phone screen. He instantly started crying.

“Baby I wish you were here right now. he misses you so much” he claimed.

Jake couldn’t even speak through his tears and his hitched breathing. “I love you so much mom, tell dad I love him and I will see him soon”

He sets the phone down and buries his face into my chest, letting out full on sobs. the toll that this situation has taken on his body physically and mentally was very obvious and I know he has been wanting good news.

~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks had passed and we came back to Australia for the Winter break. Jake was more excited than ever. When he saw his dad get out of the car at the airport, I had never see Jake run so fast in my life. Their hug seemed like it was out of a movie and he had been latched to his dad everyday since being back at his house.

His parents kind of picked up on me and Jake’s relationship, and didn’t question why I was wanting to sleep in Jake’s room and not the guest room any more.

We were laying there facing each other, admiring each others beauty in the dim moon light shining through the blinds.

“Tell me Jake, do you believe in fate?” I questioned lowly.

He looks somewhat startled. “Y’know, I have never really thought about that. After everything that has happened this year, I think I would say that I do” he confirmed, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

“Yeah I think I do too”

[purplemoonfox]

On and in defense of Commander Fox and the Corries, and why I think they were set up to fail

Summary at the bottom because I like to go on.

Things we know for sure about clones and Fox and the Corries in the strictest canon sense (which ain't a lot):

1. They are stationed on Coruscant.

That is definitional, now remember what Coruscant is.

2. They have no Jedi in charge of the Guard, they report directly to Palpatine.

Although I adore the fanon that Quinlan Vos is their Jedi, it’s not canon.

3. Clones love their brothers dearly.

That is almost without exception, even the clones we see acting against the Republic (hi Slick) at least believe they were acting in their brother’s interests.

4. They seem to accrue extra responsibilities as the war goes on, up to the point of being the ones we see Palpatine with in ROTS.

Even if they don’t, the idea of a law enforcement/military unit answerable only to Palpatine is a shit idea. There’s reasons people worry about accountability in real life, and sneaky little shits who act all nice and innocent at first but eventually show their true colors once they have power in the bag is one of them.

These are all very obvious.

In very short terms, it's very likely Palpatine uses the Coruscant Guard to sow public dissatisfaction.

And all those that hate Fox fall for it by proxy, because I think you're essentially seeing of him (and the Guard, and by extension the clones) what Palpatine wants the public to see and think of clones.

The Coruscant Guard are probably the most consistently accessible and visible of the clones in the galaxy to its biggest cultural and political hub. Most of the time the 501st or 212th or any other seems to drop in, fights a battle, and apparently fucks off afterwards? Obviously, planets like Ryloth have a stronger personal connection--some GAR contingent seem to have been there practically the whole damn war and Howzer was obviously very familiar with the Syndullas, and they with him (and look how personable Howzer is, and how quickly and somehow easily he extricates himself from the rationale clones held about their orders; maybe it makes sense to think of it like how leaving your little hometown where everybody thinks the same affects a person)--but otherwise I feel like the clones, to the rest of the galaxy, are (expensive) theoretical constructs.

The vast majority of the public aren't likely to have any personal experience with a clone, let alone a develop personal rapport with one, unless they happen to go to specific places like 79s where they can be found, and that still doesn't necessarily lend itself to extended relationships since most of the clone patrons would only be on Coruscant temporarily. Some fics portray clones as being refused entrance to establishments (especially later in the war when people were protesting clones themselves) or restricted in where they can go (like grocery stores, etc.). I think that's plausible, even realistic--but it doesn't seem to be a focus of canon aside from showing some protests so I'll let it alone.

What we know of that IS canon is that clones aren't allowed to even think about having families or doing anything with their lives besides being soldiers (even though all of them have thought about it, even just secretly; I'd wager that all of them have secret dreams they don't share); it's against regulations as we see with Cut Lawquane in season one of TCW. So to effect this, clones are probably actively or passively discouraged from forming close friendly relationships with anyone who isn't a clone and who they have no reason to be speaking with—aka most people besides Jedi (and if the fanon can be believed, if decommissioning/euthanization is a concern, they would have the motivation to avoid even the perception of such a relationship). Obviously there are going to be exceptions, but you can scrutinize a stable population a lot better than an itinerant one.

The point is, if your only tangible frame of reference is a rigid hall monitor that doesn't demonstrate much of a personality (even though clones have real, complex personal lives beneath that surface) and is behind a faceless mask--and we see so little of the Guard that what exists of their personalities is, let's be real, nearly all fanon--then you never really have a chance to acquire a sense of their humanity, and a strict enforcement of regulations tends to breed resentment in a population for whom strict adherence to regulations isn’t normalized. There will be cultural differences in play.

This is not the clones' fault, they neither asked to be created nor put into this position, they’re only doing what they’ve been asked to do, but it plays directly into Palpatine's goals.

Moving on.

Sure, the Guard answers to Palpatine in the chain of command, and we see them actively serving him in ROTS, but Palpatine definitely isn't doing shit for fuck for the Guard's administration in a daily sense, so Fox basically runs that whole bitch by himself in every practical sense--a clone, with no rights of his own, considered property, in a situation increasingly hostile to him and his.

Now let's think about the clones we see: as far as we can tell, clones' social lives are largely insular. They mostly see and talk to each other, and that's not necessarily by nefarious design (as discussed above), that's just what happens (military people tend to hang out with other military people, that’s just how it is; you’ll spend most of your day around other military people, most likely stationed in a place you’re not so familiar with that it’s easy to do anything else). Remember: we as viewers get access and insight that people in-universe don't.

And, significantly:

The Corries do not have a Jedi. The Jedi see value in their lives beyond their merely being expendable, faceless, and unthinkingly obedient droids wearing flesh, this point was made multiple times--and the Jedi are able to walk the line between orders and the bigger picture, which rubs off on the men they lead. Go watch Nala Se’s (bitch can catch these hands) comments about the Jedi’s influence on the clones when she’s speaking to Dooku.

I can see leaving the Corries without a Jedi being another saccharine, oh-so-magnanimous moment from Palpatine (he has so many of these) in the vein of expressing confidence in the clones' capability and in being very undemanding of the Jedi, in order to “free up” Jedi (whom he so totally trusts) to fight the war…but in effect leaving the Guard without anyone familiar with Coruscant and equipped to play referee with the environment and peoples they're bound to serve, and with no one batting in their corner or showing them any other way to exist and think.

On a side note:

Fox is an interesting clone commander anyway, not least because he doesn't have a Jedi to bounce off of. In a sense, whether or not Fox had his chip activated, we’re probably seeing how a clone commander was originally going to behave on their own initiative: see problem, address problem, think no more deeply than that. The Kaminoans did not want creative thinking in the clones. The clones were trained to fight the enemy they’re pointed at with singleminded intent, it stands to reason that that straightforward directness would transfer to other instances which might have been more kindly served by a different mindset. Their mindset isn’t even like a real life military where you’re still obligated to think about the nature of what you’re ordered to do—just following orders hasn’t been a valid defense since 1945.

TBH I've got a lot to say about fandom, the fetishization of actual violence through the lionization of fictional violence (although I don't think that fictional violence breeds actual violence; rather, I think people who were already interested in it go looking for things they think reflect their beliefs), and why we even have war crimes as a concept (and the absolute ignorance perpetrated by an increasingly illiterate populace), but...

I digress.

You cannot claim to have sympathy for clones without acknowledging their humanity and that includes for the ones who didn’t have the chance to grow beyond the limitations built around them. It was awful that Fox killed Fives, but it’s a tragedy like so much else in this franchise, not proof that Fox is awful. Part of the horror of what we see everyone go through in clone wars is how many times Palpatine’s plans almost derail but it never happens.

If your complaint is that Fox didn’t think any more deeply than what was right in front of him in the moment, remember that that’s exactly what’s been expected of Fox and all other clones: obey orders, and it’s not their role to determine what those orders are. Abstractions are for those who are not expendable, made to die. Orders are orders, and good soldiers do what again? He quite literally all but says “my opinion doesn’t matter” when he tells Ahsoka that he doesn’t blame her for (apparently) killing Letta, but she’s under arrest anyway.

Fox is put in a position of having to wield authority in a very different way than any other clone commander, has no direct support from or evident collaboration with the one group of people who generally see clones as living beings worthy of compassion, and deals with the public while having been trained to lead a war campaign. His is a war of attrition, not dropping in on a planet and fighting a battle, and he’s responsible specifically to Palpatine, who is literally the big bad. Fanon tends to think that Palpatine either activated his chip early or tortured him; honestly either one tracks, it's Palpatine after all--and in two major instances, we don't see what Palpatine says, to Fives or to Fox--but the fucker is a masterful manipulator so anything and everything is still on the table.

But in the midst of all this, because clones aren’t unthinking or unfeeling, and the dissonance is tragic but not absent:

Clones do give a shit about their brothers. Fox is no exception; he's audibly upset when he asserts that Ahsoka killed three troopers. And the immediate order to shoot to kill is pragmatic--he only issues it after he believes she was willing to kill clones to escape. That’s a fair order; if she’s willing to kill clones as he believes she did, then his men should at least be able to defend themselves as well as they can. See issue, address issue.

I mean. Shit, he doesn’t stick around after he shot Fives; we see his face once and that is not a triumphant posture. If he wanted to gloat or be an asshole about it he had the chance. Rex probably would've gone for the throat, but he had the chance.

The way he dies also suggests this. He could have thrown somebody else under the bus--called the men who fired on Vader defective, shifted blame somewhere else, somehow. He did not. There was one thing Fox ever had control over in his life, and that was how much he let anyone else take the fall. Hell, his answer wasn't even that bad, but Anakin (who is on my permanent shit list for not putting two and two together from the Sifo-Dyas reveal and what Fives told him earlier) probably did have it out for him, because Vader is an asshole. He's a Sith, it comes with the territory.

So, to summarize:

Clones are trained from decanting to do as they're told regardless of their personal feelings, and Fox in nearly so many words states that he acts regardless of his personal feelings. He is not likely to be in a position where he's shown a different way to behave, or interact with anyone that does anything but reinforce that expectation.

(Side note, I feel like Palpatine would have a great time tormenting Fox by sending him off to do shit he personally disagrees with but is technically correct according to the letter of the law..................)

Fox essentially is on his own in an environment unlike what most clone commanders deal with that he probably wasn't trained to understand much of (cultural understanding is important); it's rather likely the Guard hews very close to their training because of that. They'll stick to what's familiar and what's expected of them as they understand it. That is a very normal human response.

Leaving the Corries without a Jedi means that, as well as lacking anyone who sees them as individuals worth more the money it cost to make them and who treats them as such, they lack a go-between and likely familiarity with the population they're policing but are subordinate to, legally speaking, as clones are seen as government property, not people. This is going to breed resentment; somebody is going to bitch that no clone has the right to do bla bla bla.

The vast majority of the galaxy is going to take cues from Coruscant whether they like admitting it or not. If Coruscant has a bad impression of clones, then the vast majority of the galaxy—for whom the clones are (expensive) theoretical constructs—will have a bad impression of clones. Clones may not be in a position to pursue close relationships with someone not in their near orbit, and may be likely to actually avoid them because of regulations.

The vast majority of the galaxy would likely see them as unthinking, rigid hall monitors (whereas non-clone troopers, stormtroopers, think for ourselves and we wouldn’t act that way..........).

Which all gives Palpatine an excuse to give in soooo magnanimously to the public's demands to stop using clones as troops.

[sacredsorceress]

RAAAHHHH I LOVE YOUR WOLVERINE ROOMMATE WORKS, okay thats it i wish u a great day for feeding us 🙏

AHHHH thank you so much!! I'm so happy that you're enjoying them!! All of the love on the posts and in my inbox is making my heart so full <3 Enjoy these hcs..

°☆Roommate!Worst!Wolverine HCs☆°

ask box | logan howlett masterlist

Logan is not the type of person to do dishes as soon as he’s done eating, but he will do them, just… later. Once he’s done he’ll leave them in the sink “to soak” or whatever and then go about his day. But do not be mistaken: he hasn’t forgotten about them. If Logan hears you go into the kitchen, turn on the faucet and put soap on the sponge, he’ll call from the other room to “knock it off! don’t touch ‘em.”

Even your own dishes, he’ll whistle at you to get your attention and shake his head, ushering you to go sit down and do something else because “this is his job, and have a little faith in (him), will you?”

He’ll do them at night before he goes to bed so you wake up to a fresh kitchen.

Hate to say it, but seeing the state of him in DP&W, he’s probably messy.

In the beginning of your arrangement, he’d be very conscious of his messes: Logan would clean up his dishes the second he was done, wipe down wet spots the condensation from his beer bottles left behind, grab his laundry from the dryer the moment it was done-

But naturally as he got more comfortable he wouldn’t race to do those things- not out of disrespect for you, but because he wasn’t scared of you tossing him to the curb because he didn’t put the salt shaker back.

He’d always clean up before you noticed though and if you had to ask him to do something (like if you were doing your own laundry and noticed his clothes in the dryer) he’d feel so guilty and be on his feet in a second.

Logan would 100%, absolutely buy ingredients you didn’t put on the list so you could bake.

Whether it was brownies, cookies, bread or something fancier, you had baked him this thing one time and he has had a consistent craving for it ever since. However, Logan wasn’t just going to flat out ask you to make them- that would be rude- he wanted you to bake them of your own accord. And is it really that wrong if he nudged you towards the inclination to bake it by having eggs on hand you didn’t need? Don’t think so.

“What’s that smell?” He asked, coming in the door, knowing perfectly well what it was.

“Oh I figured I’d bake some of those cookies,” You said, wiping your hand on a dishrag. “We had some eggs on hand I didn’t want to go to waste… you like them right? I can’t eat them all myself.”

He felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

Logan would never have guests, but he didn’t mind if you did. If anything, despite his grumpy demeanour, he would get such a kick out of you having your friends over.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking the wolverine.” Your friend said, taking a sip from her glass of wine.

Logan, who had been laying in bed reading the paper from yesterday, sat up.

“Oh my god!” You gasped. “Stop talking so loud. We’re not fucking! We’re friends!”

“Don’t act like I didn’t see you ogling him earlier when his shirt rode up.” She said in a hushed voice, wagging her finger at you. “If he asked, you’d be all over him in a second.”

Logan raised his eyebrow, listening- waiting on what you said next.

You frantically glanced down the hallway that led to his bedroom.

“I’m going to kill you!”

Whenever you told him you were having friends over, Logan would make it a point to stay home. He’d wait until the end of the night when your friends’ speech had started to slur and then swoop in to save the day, offering to drive your friends home.

Did he care about everyone’s safety? Sure. But mostly he just wanted brownie points with you.

“C’mon, here’s your purse.” Logan sighed, picking your particularly drunk friend off the floor. “Let’s get you home.”

“Y/n, I think I’m in love with your roommate.”

If she hadn’t been your friend, you would’ve felt a searing jealously burn through you. Instead, you had enough alcohol in your system that you felt like air. With a giggle you leaned your weight on Logan, jabbing your finger in her face.

“Hey, he’s mine!” You hiccuped. “Get in line.”

And that was worth Logan sitting in his room the entire night; even during that ten minutes where he had to listen to your friend go on and ON about how she’d just kill to sleep with the Deadpool.

If you were drunk, Logan would leave a glass of water and pain relievers on your bedside table, ready for you when you woke up.

When Logan came home to you having fallen asleep on the couch he’d do one of two things:

1. He’d shut the television off and urge you up from the couch, holding you as you shuffled your way to bed.

“C’mon, honey, bed time.”

2. He’d grab the blanket from his room and drape it over you, tucking the edges into the couch and pushing away the coffee table so you didn’t hit it when you woke up.

He’d have to physically restrain himself from giving you a kiss on the forehead. Instead he’d settle for lovingly shaking his head at you, triple checking the locks and heading to bed himself.

He would NOT check the mail. Ever.

He's so lucky he pays rent to you because if it weren't for you and your religious checking of the mail box, the two of you would be screwed.

Logan would go onto the sidewalk or up to the roof to smoke. Regardless of your feelings about smoking, he wouldn't want to hurt you by having you ingest his second-hand smoke. Maybe it was the fact that he would never have to worry about getting ill, or how madly in love with you he was, but your safety and health was his utmost priority. You were fragile. Logan wouldn't be able to take it if you got sick because of him.

Built in handy-man.

God forbid something happens to your car. Now you have to watch Logan, shirtless, on a hot, summer day climb beneath the car to fix it; grunting as he slides beneath it and back out so you can hand him the next tool. Oh nooo!!!!

No, but really. Leaky sink? He's on it. Wobbly chair leg? He's the man for the job. Logan would actually be offended if you called a plumber or repairman.

"What're you doing?" He'd ask, seeing you on the phone. "Gimme that." Pulling the phone to his ear, he'd swat you away. "Forget what she said. I'm handling it. What? Yes, I'm sure."

When you weren't home in the winter, Logan would turn off the heat and pop open a window, getting in some fresh air.

Giving Logan a "Best Roommate Ever" mug for his birthday. He'd smile so wide- something he only did for you- and proceed to start every day with it. He was hoping that someday, though, he could upgrade from roommate to something more.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Thank you for reading! My ask box is always open to chat about our favourite MCU guys <3

[ecoterrorist-katara]

The tragedy of Katara’s parentification

Sokka and Katara were both parentified, and it’s a profoundly life-changing thing for both of them. One of the saddest things in ATLA, though, is how Sokka sort of got to outgrow parentification, but Katara never did.

Sokka’s told to be the man. The provider, the protector. He’s not so good at the former (his hunting failures are a consistent source of comic relief), and he takes failures of the latter very, very hard. He doesn’t manage to save Yue, and that wrecks him. After Yue, he becomes extremely protective of Suki in a way that’s borderline offensive to her. He’s willing to do anything to protect his friends and his family, including something as irresponsible as breaking into the Boiling Rock. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Sokka is the only one of the Gaang who unambiguously kills. The rest of them may technically have clean hands because of cartoon logic, but Combustion Man is very dead, and Sokka is the one who killed him. We don’t know how he feels about it, because the show never goes there, but I have a pet theory that Sokka is so uncharacteristically (remember he was team “leave Zuko to freeze to death”) against Katara confronting Yon Rha in The Southern Raiders because he’s the only who knows what killing feels like and wants to protect Katara from it.

But by the end of the show, Sokka’s in a place where he can start to let go of his need to protect. Objectively, all his friends are unbelievably powerful and can take care of themselves, including his sister and his girlfriend. Suki is the one who saves him in the final battle, representing not only a reversal of his initial cartoonish misogyny, but also demonstrating that he is worthy of protection. And of course, he and his friends saved the world, so there isn’t really an enemy that he has to protect them from anymore. Sokka’s loved ones create the conditions under which his parentified behaviour is no longer necessary. Sokka would still have to take the first step to stop seeing himself as the one who has to lay his life on the line, but at least it’s possible for him.

But not Katara.

Katara had to take on the mom role after their mother was murdered, which meant she was responsible for domestic labour and emotional support. Sokka says in The Runaway that her role was to keep the family together. Unlike protection, that’s always a full time job regardless of the war. We see Katara spending more screen time than anybody cooking, getting food, mending, and generally doing women’s work. We see Katara giving everyone emotional support, including strangers and her enemy. We see Katara putting aside her own discomfort and her own hurt in The Desert because if she falls apart, they all die. Nobody ever showed her that she doesn’t need to be the only one who cooks, or that somebody else can be responsible for the emotional wellbeing of her friends, or that — god forbid — someone else can actually be responsible for her emotional wellbeing.

That’s why I never cared for the Ka/taang argument of “he teaches her to be a kid again!” Putting aside the fact that Katara ends up taking care of Aang a lot more as the series goes on, the whole tragedy of parentification is that you can never again be a child. That part of your childhood, your god-given right, is robbed from you. It is extremely precious and important to still be able to be a kid, but breaking free of parentification is not about seeing yourself as a kid. It’s about breaking free of being responsible for everyone’s feelings and behaviours.

For Katara, that responsibility is not problem of perception, but of reality. Unlike Sokka, who was told and shown that his loved ones are capable of protecting themselves, Katara has zero reason to believe that her loved ones are able to feed and clothe themselves and not fall apart emotionally. Between Toph and Sokka who emphatically don’t want to do this work, it all falls on Katara. Telling a parentified child that they just need to loosen up is akin to telling an overworked mother that she needs to just relax (“happy Mother’s Day! You get a break from chores, which you will catch up on tomorrow because nobody else is doing them”). It doesn’t accomplish anything if nobody creates the circumstances under which it’s possible to let go of responsibilities. A lot of Zutara fans, spanning all the way back to the early days of the fandom, like the “Momtara and Dadko” trope where Zuko also does chores. Why? Because even without the concept and language of parentification, many fans recognized that Katara’s performance of domestic and emotional labour is inequitable and probably very taxing.

Growing out of parentification is about more than just letting go of old expectations: it’s also about finding a new way to value yourself beyond the role you grew up with. I’ve said this before, but it’s very important to acknowledge that just because a kid is parentified doesn’t mean they’re actually good at being a parent. In fact, it’s probably a given that they’re not, because they’re kids performing roles that are developmentally inappropriate! Sokka remains a shit hunter; he becomes a decent fighter but he’s still miles behind his friends. A big part of healing from his parentification is finding another area — strategy, engineering, project management (what else do you call that schedule) — where he actually excels, to which he can dedicate his time and from which he can derive satisfaction and a sense of identity. For Katara, fighting for the oppressed and combat waterbending give her that. Crucially, however, Katara does not stop being a girl when she becomes a warrior. She’s still responsible for domestic and emotional labour. Unlike Sokka, whose protector duties were more or less relieved as the series went on and he found new ways to contribute to the group, Katara continued to perform her old role in addition to her new one (which is depressingly realistic btw, look up feminist theory around the concept of the second shift). Still, it’s important that she found these new ways to value herself and her contributions…

…which disappear in her adult life. Where’s adult Katara fighting for the oppressed? Where’s adult Katara enjoying her status as a master waterbender? Where’s Mighty Katara? Where’s the Painted Lady? Where’s the person who vanquished a whole Fire Lord?

What do we know about adult Katara? She’s no longer a rabblerouser or an ecoterrorist. She did not translate her desire to help the downtrodden into a political role, like being Chief or on the United Republic Council. She’s not known as the best waterbender in the world, only the best healer, even though her combat abilities are what she took the most pride in. Even as a healer, she established no hospitals, trained no widespread acolytes (except Korra, I guess?), and made no known contributions to the field.

What Katara is known for…is being a wife and a mother. The same role she was forced to take on at age 8. One which she performed for the next 80+ years.

[whatifitis]

♡ 150 reasons - LN 4 ♡

Summary: 150 reasons why lando loves you

Author's note: idk i thought it'd be nice

CW: literally just fluff

Hi baby!! :D

I saw this trend on tiktok just now and wanted to do it for you. I love you a lot and you know how hard it is for me to show it sometimes. I thought this could be a nice small way to at least show you a bit of how much I love you. My love for you knows no boundaries. <3

P.S. if there’s any misspelings dont say shit cause im dyslexic and you know that :(

Your smile

Your eyes

The way your eyes sparekl all the time

Your rosy cheeks

Your wavy hair (you hate it but u love it)

Your heart

Your brain

Your patience with evrything (including me)

Your honesty

Your inteligence

Your humor

The way you’re always there for anyone. Doesnt mater if u know them well or not

You always listen to people and help them when they need it even if your tired

You challenge me and help me become a better person

You never judge me

You make me feel safe

You believe in me, even when idont

You inspire me everyday whether it’s work related or just life in general

You’ve seen teh good and the bad in me and you still love me

You laugh at all my jokes even if they suck

You’re my best friend (🎶you can hear it in the silence🎶)

You respect my space when i need it, even if i go about it awfully (when writing ‘about it’ i accidentally wrote ‘tit’ :I)

You give the best fucking hugs 

When i get anxious, you always help me, even if it’s just when you sit with me and help me breathe 

You took the time to learn about me and my mental struggles so that you could help me better

You make life so much more better 

You remind me that i’m worth more than i think i do

You chose me

You make me blush and happy

Your music taste is amazing as well (btw i got us tickets to see Noah Kahan)

You’re like my personal google and dictionary

You get along with my family

My mum loves you (i think she loves u more than she loves me ngl)

You get along with max and you mock sometimes and it makes me laugh so much

You stay even if im mean and dont deserve it

You sacrifice a lot

You always put others before you 

You don’t mind my gaming (even when i keep you up late with my screaming)

You always listen to me talk about the things i like 

You hold my hand in public (it sounds stupid but it makes sense ok so shut it) <3

You never give up on me

You bring out the best in me

Max said he hadn’t seen me so happy until i met you

You make me feel lucky to have u

You support my career and stuff even though it gets really hard sometimes

You make the bad days better

You make everyday better as well, not just the bad ones

You never make me feel bad or ashamed about feeling certain ways

You always validate me when i need it

You never lie to me

You always tell me straight up when im the one in the wrong

The way you smell

The way you look when u see me

The way you hold me tight even if i’ve just raced singapore and am sweating out of every crevise

You stay strong for the both of us

Your attitude

Your kisses

You’re always down to play video games with me (IM SORRY FOR IT TAKES TWO I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS HARD)

The way you call me your love

You stand up for me even when im not deserving of it

Your cooking skills

The way you play with my hair

How we’re able to joke with eachother

The way you tell stories

The way you talk in general

How funny you were when telling me about work and snot shot out of my nose 

You match my freak

Your singing (even if its off key sometimes)

You never doubt me

U dont mind my clinginess (sorry about scaring u in the shower the other day as well)

You never tell me to go away

You always communicate with me

You plan things for our future

When you send me vlogs when im away (or even when im home but youre at work)

You make my heart feel full

You’re consistent with loving me. Whether you’re sad or mad or happy or anything, you still love me the same

Youre never too busy for me

The way we can just sit in silence together and do nothing but still have fun

The way you help me pack when im getting ready to travel

The way you pack my favorite snacks for me when im going away for a while

We can share victories together, big or small (lol big or small, ya know, like dicks)

You never make me feel alone

You watch stupid ass movies with me all the time

You dont get mad at me when you try to teach me to play valorant (it’s fucking hard, csgo is better anyways)

The way your face lit up and you started talking faster when you were talking to me about your favorite artist

The way you speak to me so gently when i need it

The way you make a playlist for every mood possible

The way you make a playlist for every book you read, even if the book was bad

How you insist we don’t have enough driving playlists so we always make more

The way you introduce me to new things (i still wont try fish, screw that)

Youre adventurous

You put up with my shananigens

The way you made a million stickers on whatsapp

How you always say ‘i love you’ with the ‘i’

When you tell me goodmorning and goodnight even if youre mad at me

How you help me dress better

How u kiss me in a way that screws me up forever

How you always ask me about my day

How you always put your leg on mine

How you show me how forever feels

How you put up with my stupidity (I REALLY THOUGHT THE MATTRESS WAS GONNA HELP)

You’re gonna be an amazing mum someday

How you spam me with tiktoks

Your laugh is the best sound ive ever heard

Youre beautiful inside and out

How u were able to make me laugh even after i’d poked by hand with a knife when i tried cutting an avocado

How you helped me escape the bed sheet when we discovered my new found claustrophobia

How you always rep mclaren and quadrant merch

How you always make backed goods and make them healthy sometimes so i can still eat them

How when we’re out and you can tell im anxious

And when you realize it you find small ways to ground me like holding my hands or tapping my foot with yours

You love the pictures i put in the new digital frame (you cant lie and say u dont like yassified alonso)

If im hungry in the middle of the night, you join me in snacking or ordering a whole pizza

How you know you’re lactose intolerant but still eat dairy filled foods

And how you lock me out the room when you have to deal with the aftermath of eating dairy

How you're already naming our future children

How you laugh til you cry at 3 in the morning from watching tiktoks 

And waking me up to watch them with you

How you get so excited when talking to me about the last book you read 

How you tell me about the book theories you hear and your own theories (violet’s mom was definitely venin)

How when u find me snacking in the middle of the night, you don’t question it

How we have dance parties in the living room

How you quote random things all the time, especially tiktok sounds

Your love for musicals

How you say “me and boq” every 5 mins

Your unconditional love for not just me, but everyone 

Your love knowing no boundaries

The way you didn’t get scared away when faced with so much hate and shit when we first started dating

Your strength

How you learned the “wait, they dont love you like i love you” thing in different languages

Your high streak on duolingo

Your creativity

Your piano skills

Your love for celsius (although it’s not good for you and you should probably slow down on them :( try coffee instead)

How you and my mum go shopping together all the time

How you’re invited home more than i am…

Your dedication to work

Your work ethic (it’s not the same as the reason above)

Your vast knowledge of everything in Marvel

How you interact with the fans

How you show me off in every way possibel (i might've said this already)

How you help me with quadrant shit

How you give me a room tour anytime youre somewhere new

The light you emit

The way you make everything so much brighter

How you always try to learn new things (we should try tarot reading again, that one was fun and we can scare the shit out of max with it)

The way you never let go no matter what

The way you always give back to people

The way you live everyday like it’s the last

The way you love me and hold onto me

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Hello India, I hope you're doing well. I don't know if you're still answering questions, but I have one:

Don’t you feel even a little bit resentful toward harry for choosing to go solo, distancing himself from the boys, and basically taking the easy route?

I know a lot of people try to justify it by saying he was groomed by his current manager and his family, because of his age, etc., but I feel like sometimes they victimize him way too much :/ I don’t know… He was the chosen one from the start and always had the benefits. He had important people on his side, and I feel like he prioritized less important things over what truly mattered. And you can say he always enjoyed the attention and benefits he had.

Truth be told, I know this question isn’t sent it good faith, but I’m going to answer it in good faith, if only to break someone’s echo chamber, if not yours.

I don’t resent Harry at all for going solo. Which, btw, they all went solo — it wasn’t his decision. If you do a little research, you’ll realize the full circumstances of the hiatus, and the fact that the working situation they were in was completely abusive and untenable, the way most boybands were, but even more exceptionally so because of how much money they were making/how popular they were. Everyone was begging for them to be given a break, but many in this fandom need to find someone to blame when they don’t have the patience to do research and consider context, and Harry’s an easy target because by most objective metrics, his solo career has skyrocketed.

He hasn’t distanced himself from the boys. He was at Niall’s show, dancing and singing. He’s referenced the boys on stage several times and in his BRITs acceptance speech. He constantly collects (and wears) One Direction paraphernalia. Not to mention, he was at Louis’ show after Jay’s death and Liam’s wake. But I’m sure all of this is convenient to omit when you’re pedaling your own narrative of events. That’s your choice.

He hasn’t taken the easy way, though I don’t know how you define that. I suppose you mean because his struggles are less obvious and less relatable. To that, I say, I think your view of what consists as struggle is extremely narrow, but that doesn’t surprise me because I know from the language of your ask that you have no intention of being generous towards Harry as a person, so why on earth would you view him with the nuance and kindness you view whoever is your favorite? Why would you allow him the same grace as any of the other boys?

Neither do I resent him for being “chosen” or for enjoying attention/benefits that he, himself, has worked hard for. I know this is a tough thing to hear because many of you have lost touch with the reality of how capitalist industries work, but making music is, by and large, about making money. The people on the backend of music are not recruiting artists to entertain or because they believe in their voice, they do it because the artists they choose are those that will make the most money.

Harry said it himself in his Grammys speech: he’s aware of how lucky he is because he knows there are other people out there who are more talented than him who will never get the opportunities he has. That is the reality of the world we live in: you cannot take everyone with you, even the people you love the most. Even the people who also deserve it.

What Harry has done, however, is prove he was worth the investment and that he’s grateful for every opportunity he has, which is all any one human can do. He cancelled a show once in three years. He toured during a global pandemic. He constantly gives 500% in and out of his shows (exercise, eating habits, therapy, healthy boundaries with fans). Everything he does is aligned with the longevity of his career, which is as much for his real fans as it is for him.

So, no, I don’t resent a person who’s dedicated his life to providing me with art that has pulled me out of my lowest and most lonely. No, I don’t resent him for working harder than any of us can possibly conceive, personally and professionally. No, I don’t resent him for giving up his privacy and safety and his right to have a quiet personal life in the name of entertaining us. No, I don’t resent him for being rich or privileged, because I can name fifty people who have done so much less for so much more.

The bottom line is, you resent him because you don’t think he deserves it. Thats why you think he’s taken the “easy” way, that’s why you omit his connection to the boys, that’s why you want to characterize his choices as “things that don’t truly matter”, that’s why you want to blame him for “going solo” even if the hiatus was thrust upon them as a collective after Zayn left first. And that’s totally fine. Just say that with your whole chest, because it’s what you believe is true.

I, however, completely disagree with you and truly, earnestly hope no one in your life ever holds your character and ethics to the same standard to which you hold Harry’s. You’d fail, by each and every single one of your own metrics. We all would.

[lilislegacy]

Lets spin the narrative. Which commonly talked about moments weren’t the ones when Percabeth first had sex

So, I could be wrong, but I THINK you guys wanna talk about this lol.

First, let me say this: when I talk about Percabeth being intimate, I am only referring to very fictional book Percabeth — and only when they’re 16 or older (AKA the age of consent), and in a fully committed, loving relationship. Also, if this turns into a big discussion, let’s keep it respectful and mature. Obviously, I’m totally good with having more adult conversations, but even though my blog is targeted toward older teens and adults, there are still some younger teens on this app, and we need to keep things responsible and safe for them. Okay, we good?

So let’s talk about it.

Warning: I’m about to talk a lot lol. (Surprised?) BUT I’ll put the major points in bold so you can skim if you’re not in the mood for all my rambling.

When I DON’T Think It Happened:

Before Heroes of Olympus: They’d only been dating for like four months before Percy got abducted. They were still barely 16 and figuring out how to shift from being best friends to romantic partners — and neither of them had ever even dated anyone before. I’m sure there was some heavy kissing, second base, maaaybe even a sprinkle of third base. But I don’t think it went further. I just think they weren’t ready, and they weren’t in a rush. They wouldn’t want to risk messing anything up by moving too fast, you know?

In the stables: As funny as that scene was because of all the embarrassment and suggestions of sex, Rick could not have made it more clear that nothing happened lol.

In HoO - On the Argo II / During the War/Quest: I just don’t think that was the time or the place. Even before Annabeth left for her mission, they were on a crowded ship, surrounded by people and under a ton of stress. And yeah, some people say, “Well, maybe they did it then because they thought they were gonna die,” but they were also pretty sure Percy was gonna die in the Battle of Manhattan — and they still waited to get together until after it was over. They don’t strike me as a “let’s do it just in case we die tomorrow” type of couple.

When I DO Think It Happened:

This might be an underwhelming answer for those of you who haven’t heard me say this before, but I strongly believe it happened sometime during the summer after the Gaea/Giant War was over — or possibly sometime during their senior year. But I really think it was that summer.

Because by this time, unlike before Percy’s kidnapping when they were still figuring things out, there's a new certainty and stability to their relationship that wasn’t quite there before. In Staff of Hermes, one month into dating, Percy says he’s just glad they’ve made it this long and hopes to keep it going. By Heroes of Olympus, the two of them are discussing their future together and making plans for college and living together in New Rome afterwards. That's a big change. There’s no uncertainty anymore.

That six-month separation was hard for them — especially Annabeth, since she was conscious for all of it — but it showed them that their relationship was more than just a teenage pairing. Annabeth admitted that she had fallen hard for him when they started dating, but that when he went missing, it was like being withdrawn from a lifesaving medication. Percy’s memories were wiped, and he was supposed to forget everything except the most basic thing about himself: his name. But somehow, Annabeth was just as integral a part of him — because he didn’t just remember her name, but had little flashing memories of her too. He didn’t remember his own mother, Grover, or anything about his life, but he knew Annabeth.

So any part of their relationship that was casual or uncertain before? That all went away the moment they were reunited.

Once we see them together again in HoH, it’s consistently commented on how natural they are with each other, and how comfortable they are touching and kissing. Annabeth says Percy is a part of her. Percy says he never wants to be apart from Annabeth again. Then, obviously, they walk through Tartarus together — which only reinforces how united they are.

So what this all shows is that by the end of HoO, their relationship has become as solid as concrete. There’s nothing but love, trust, and certainty. Therefore, once they get back and the world is saved and they’re together in New York again, I think every reason they had to wait before is gone. What’s left is two people who want to be together in every way, and they know their relationship isn't going anywhere.

Anyway, these are just my own personal thoughts. This subject will never get confirmed or denied by Rick, so there's never going to be a right or wrong here. I welcome other opinions and perspectives. And if you agree with me but have other thoughts, feel free to share. Again, just as long as it's respectful :)

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hello! Hope your day is going alright. I was wondering if you have any advice for when all characters feel the same? Despite having different core traits and mannerisms, when I write them it always somehow ends up feeling like they're copy pastes of one another to me. I noticed that I've been having a hard time with giving my characters agency too which led me to wondering if that isn't causing the former issues.

Thank you for taking the time to run this blog and help so many people, cheers!

Writing Notes: Character Identity & Agency

Identity chart. Example:

What parts of themselves are influencing their decisions in your story? Familiarize that part of their identities.

Try to maintain the truth of the group and to simultaneously think of your character as an individual.

Thinking about why your characters behave the way they do and why they make certain decisions is important to writing a good story.

The plot moves along because of the decisions your characters make.

Be honest with yourself and what you know and don't know, do some research and ask for help, you'll create more authentic characters that way.

Your Character's Agency. Some writers prefer to map out their story but allow their characters to help lead the story.

This technique is more often used by "pantsers".

A pantser is a term most commonly applied to fiction writers, especially novelists, who write their stories "by the seat of their pants."

The opposite would be a plotter, or someone who uses outlines to help plot out their novels.

Many writers fall into one camp or the other, though it's not uncommon for writers to try both methods from book to book.

Author Victoria Schade describes giving her characters agency:

...I kept stressing out about a specific plot point I couldn’t untangle, and over time my characters slowly revealed the answer to me. It wasn’t an “a ha” moment, it was a gradual realization, and when it all came together I couldn’t help but think, “It was there the whole time!” But that’s the beauty of letting characters have agency and giving them an active role in the writing process—they surprise you!

It pays off to let characters have agency, she has found, particularly in the drafting process.

WRITING TIPS. When creating a character, try to understand them so that their actions and words are consistent with their personality and history.

Who we are is at least partly hardwired, inherited from parents and grandparents.

A lot of those characteristics like how extraverted or introverted someone is, how open or private they are, how conscientious or empathetic or neurotic they are is there in a child’s brain.

Knowing those basic characteristics could help you understand where a person has come from.

But those traits are plastic; they are moulded by experience and especially childhood.

Writing a backstory for a character helps the writer make certain that even confident social behavior (from an introverted character) is different from the social behavior of an extravert.

No personality trait is better than another, extraverts don’t have easier lives than introverts, conscientious people don’t do better than slapdash people.

Everyone struggles with their own nature in the wrong settings.

Of course, writers delight in putting them in the wrong settings.

Understanding motivation is crucial to developing a character, most writers do this automatically.

They may have a plot-driven goal (solve the crime, deliver the ring, marry the hero), but they also have

personal motivations (revenge against a killer, loyalty to comrades, love or loneliness).

Example: You don’t want a shy, lonely character to suddenly propose a karaoke night, because the reader won’t find it believable. Maybe she has to be talked into it, dragged even!

When creating main characteristics, it’s worth jotting down a personality sketch and basic history.

Smaller characters are just as important.

It's okay if you don’t delve into their history much, but you don’t want them to be stereotypical characters, just ciphers for the plot.

These smaller characters are great opportunities to reveal something about the main character, as they are seen through their point of view.

Example: A confident person meeting a surly waiter might challenge them, or ignore it. An anxious person might blame themselves.

We are interested in people and how different they are from us.

Stories of extraordinary life experiences draw us in.

We want to learn about personality traits that we don’t understand, like psychopathy or obsession, which explains the popularity of true crime books and fiction about murder.

Human beings are varied and interesting, we like to understand what they do.

A death, a divorce, a lost job, a miscarriage, all lead to a fresh start—it’s a brilliant trope, because we all experience them in our own lives.

Characters are revealed to us as they struggle and adapt, make new choices, build new relationships.

People don’t move on cleanly; they trail the past around with them for years.

Allowing a character to experience doubts and fears going forward makes them more relatable, more realistic.

Our senses produce a lot of memories.

The most evocative are smells.

We can activate memories from our childhood, even babyhood from a scent.

Example: Smoke from pipe tobacco can evoke someone's grandfather, who they hardly knew because he died when they were just a toddler. But the smell could bring back the sound of his voice and his bristly beard, huge leathery hands.

The "Read a lot" Writing Tip:

Read psychology articles and real-life stories, just to enrich your fiction.

As writers, we collect stories.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Thanks so much for your kind words! Try some of these tips and see which ones work for you as a writer, or perhaps for that specific story you are currently writing. Some writers don't find it necessary to give their characters agency, but it can work at times. When characters start to feel "the same", one technique is using charts like this, or templates, just to help with keeping track of your characters' traits and further differentiating them from one another. Hope this helps & have a lovely day/night as well.

More References for Character Development

Some Writing Worksheets & Templates

[rebelcracker-s]

yapping about the welcome home 10/18 update because i am so incredibly normal

Hello neighbors! Not exactly my usual content, but since when was I consistent :P I have a lot of thoughts about the new Welcome Home update, so I thought I’d make a post discussing my thoughts n findings, and try to analyze them to make sense of Welcome Home. 

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

First of all, right off the bat, on the first page of the storybook, you can see this:

All of these dots in white diamonds are meant to represent eyes, like the Looky-Loo branding alludes to. While they’re all mostly looking in different directions, we have these two who are looking right at the reader. I think these are meant to represent Wally’s eyes. Since we know from the hidden audios from the June ‘23 update that Wally can see through every drawing of his eyes, it looks like Wally is watching us or at least W through the storybook. It’s a tiny detail but so creepy nonetheless!

I want to focus on the end of W’s version of the storybook rather than the contents of the storybook, but I loved seeing a story centered around Sally and some depictions of Sally & Poppy’s dynamic! (Also Eddie calling Sally rude—THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING. Based eddie tho LOL) I also loved seeing the neighbors all being so eager to help Poppy, but oh my goodness, the way that they did it… YIKES. Poor Poppy…

It’s so interesting that we’re seeing the characters one by one realize that something is wrong with their neighborhood—first Sally in last year’s Halloween update, then Eddie in the Homewarming update, now Poppy. 

It’s also interesting how Eddie and Poppy’s episodes(?) parallel each other. First of all, they very clearly focus on isolation from the rest of the neighborhood. Eddie loses all perception of the other neighbors, and the “single pea on a plate” represents his isolation from everyone else. Poppy is literally bricked off from the other neighbors, and she can’t hear them and vice versa until she screams and the door is opened.

The second interesting thing is that both of these episodes have Home involved. Eddie gets uncomfortable and immediately finds himself staring down Home even though he’s inside them. Poppy hears knocks, doors opening, and doorknobs turning—all of which are methods Home uses to communicate. I don’t know if Home is meant to be a metaphor for isolation or a genuine antagonistic force trying to corner the characters when they’re alone and at their weakest. Maybe both? 

Still, I was considering that the character who scares Poppy at the end of the storybook audio could also be one and the same with the “monster” (in quotations because it’s unclear whether this is an actual monster) Sally talked about in last year’s Halloween update. That would create a common thread between the two Halloween updates. Still, I’m not sure what that monster is meant to represent and if it is supposed to mean Home or something related to them, like the weird portal underneath it…

Third, it’s very interesting how the two episodes end. Both Eddie and Poppy are brought out of the episodes by the intervention of the other neighbors. But it’s not just any neighbors—both times, it’s Sally and Frank. Sally is the neighbor who notices something is up with Eddie first; she brings him to the Homewarming party, then pulls Frank over to Eddie at the end of Eddie’s episode. When Poppy’s episode ends, we hear two neighbors asking about her. It’s not explicitly stated whose voices they are in the transcript, but it’s clearly Sally and Frank.

Sally and Frank are a really interesting pair; their canon interactions include them getting into a physical fight over song lyrics. But somehow, we’ve seen them twice breaking up these episodes. They don’t appear to be as close as Frank is with Eddie or as Sally is with Poppy, but it would be a very weird coincidence if this was an accident both times. 

I strongly believe that Sally and Frank are both aware of what’s happening and trying to work together to either gain a bigger understanding of it, protect the other neighbors, etc. (I also have a theory that Howdy is in on it too, but I won’t focus on that right now.) This is why we see them coming to both Eddie and Poppy’s aid after their episodes. 

Another thing!! Connections to other literature seem to be really important in the lore of Welcome Home, so it’s not a throwaway that the play Sally puts on is Tell-Tale Heart. I don’t know a lot about Tell-Tale Heart, but it appears to be about a character who kills a man and buries his still-beating heart under the floorboards, only to be driven mad by the sound. I’m pretty sure we’ve heard Home’s heartbeat before, so I wonder if Tell-Tale Heart is supposed to connect to them… I’ve seen people connect it to Cask of Amontillado, but I’ve never even heard of that so I’ll let other theorists tackle that for now.

On a final note, Wally saying that “everything is as it should be” as the last line of the storybook…completely creeps me out!!!

That’s all for now. I should probably update my other theory soon lol 

[stellaaarree]

some atsv characters with a reader that dresses bimbo, w/ the makeup and nails ect :)

MIGUEL

instantly your gonna get called “diva”.

loves the opposites looks though

he pays for all your expensive mini skirts.

insert miguel’s shocked face. “mi amor?! this skirt is the size of a belt! £35 for a piece of stripped fabric?? dios mío.” he groans, swiping his card at the register.

will just lean in the door way watching you do your makeup. loves it nowhere near as much as your natural face but if you’re happy hes ecstatic (secretly. we all know he has to keep the badass exterior.)

occasionally pulls your skirt down a little so it’s covering more. that place is only for him to see >:(!

sugar daddy vibes. dropping you off at the nail salon and picking you up all fancy with your starbucks order in hand😚😚

MILES

is way too scared to touch you in fear of messing up your pretty hair or makeup.

ADORES EVERYTHING.

something about you getting cold in your skimpy pink outfit and his black hoodie is going over your shoulder gets him giggling. everyone knows it’d have to be his.

asks his parents for money so he can pay for your nails😭😭

you assure him that he doesn’t have to pay and when he’s not allowed money he’s the one that swipes your card so it looks like its his. delusional king.

will 100% have your starbucks order memorised and when he hears you say for the first time just pauses with a “…how did you say all of that in the span of ten seconds?..”

brags 100%. if he has his other friends round his place and you’ve left one of your bright pink shirts there will go, “oh! sorry guys don’t mind the pink shirt over there.” knowing damn well he doesn’t wear pink..nor baby tees.

GWEN

you’re the reason she dyed the ends of her hair pink. always has a bit of your sweetness around🫶🏻

shopping sprees!!! then after y’all go to mcdonalds and she’s tucking napkins over your shirt so the sauce doesn’t ruin it.

feeding you fries so your lipstick doesn’t smudge.

genuinely just loves to be up close with you.

she’s taking out your perfectly clipped and bumped up hair at the end of the day. being oh so gentle as your head falls asleep by her shoulder.

when you go to her place she empties out all the things she feels you’d like from her closet and now you have your own drawer. spare makeup, hair clips, a mini straightener and her brightly coloured hoodies and jumpers.

y’all share socks. shut up its cute!!!!!!!

she’s got ones with stars scattered on them and you’ve got hearts on yours.

HOBIE

as we’ve noted, he doesn’t believe in consistency so the stark contrast between you two is adorable.

always holding your hand, thumb going over the 3d details on your nails.or he’s straight up staring at the glittery gloss as you talk while making hand gestures.

‘darlin’ and doll’ are now your new names.

you give him hair inspo and he gives you hair inspo😭😭

has a special pink guitar pic that he uses when you’re around!!!!

absolutely enamoured with your nails, you know the questions coming. the dreaded question.

when y’all are comfy, cuddling he speaks the dreaded moment. “doll, …how’d you wipe your arse with those.” and the cute moment is ruined. you obviously where not gonna share your struggles so you hit him back with the “girls don’t poop, idiot.”

PETER B PARKER

when you babysit mayday she always comes back with painted nails + toes. peter always having the same question. “how’d you get her to stay still for that long?!” with a smile you reply. “she makes exceptions for her favourite.”

if you guys are eating and sauce or something gets on your painted lips, he doesn’t even mention it. just straight away wiping it off and going back to the conversation at hand.

is the main funder for your clothes.

miguel and him fight over it all the time. miguel’s usual comeback “spoil your own kid! this ones mine!” and peter rolling his eyes.

peters the kinda guy to fund your usual things. his price range going from £5 - £25. as it happens more oftens.

miguels on the other hand. £35 - £200. and it obviously is a rare occasion.

to give extra thanks to peter you’d kiss his cheek. leaving a pink kiss stain behind and him proudly showing it off.

obsessed with the style. he’s a pretty chill guy so when asking you to come down to the store with him and you walk out in full glam, plans change. “yeah, no, we’re going to dinner instead. cmon pretty.” there was no option that was an order😭

you guys ended up stealing the pink coasters at the restaurant.

BONUS!! you’re maydays personal stylist. nails, done, hair? done, needing an outfit? done. and she sits still and pretty the whole time. completely shocking everyone else how you’ve kept her quiet. she just focuses on your pretty glittered eyelids as your big fluffy lashes bat at her sweetly🫶🏻🫶🏻

you after atsv spoils you rotten😭😭

[locketsvault]

「 CUDDLING WITH BSD MEN PT 1/4 」

pairings: dazai x reader ፥ kunikida x reader ፥ atsushi x reader ፥ ranpo x reader

tags: gender neutral reader, no agab mentioned, first person, fluff, cuddling/phyiscal affection

warnings: none!

other parts: ada ᨒ port mafia ᨒ doa + the guild ᨒ the hunting dogs

a/n: this should be a complete series, let’s hope I actually manage it lol. no gender or sex mentioned, no pronouns either!

// dazai osamu ⌇˚.༄

⮑ It scares me to say he’s actually a really good cuddler?

⮑ I don’t really see Dazai initiating it at first, and if he did it would mostly be to mess around with you. I think the first time you both cuddle each other is when one of you is not in a good place mentally. Whether that be you, he knows immediately and pulls you into his arms, cradling your head with the back of his hand while holding you close. Or it’s him, tucking his head into your chest or neck, his arm wrapped around your waist afraid to let go.

⮑ Once he gets used to being vulnerable and physically affectionate with his partner I believe he’s very physically affectionate. If he can cuddle with you, he will. In public? Not so much, he’ll stick to holding your hand or letting you rest your head on his shoulder. At home? He’s your personal leech. He blackmails you into cuddles lol. While rereading this I believe he’d be affectionate in public to drive kunikida insane.

⮑ Back to my first point, he’s a very good cuddler. It might not seem like it, especially when you look at his past. Whether or not he’s had experience with physical affection/knows exactly what to do, it doesn’t matter. Look at his personality as a whole, this boy knows how to work people out, and how to please them. His hold feelings secure, sometimes almost too much.

⮑ 9/10 cuddles are very comfortable most of the time, but sometimes you are not allowed to move and damn it you need to pee.

// kunikida doppo ⌇˚.༄

⮑ To be honest I don’t really see him as a cuddler, but he’ll do it for you.

⮑ The thing about Kunikida is that, as we all know, if he’s in a relationship with you he’s serious. And he’ll do anything to please you. So if your main form of affection is physical and you love cuddles, then he will cuddle you. He rarely initiates cuddle time, and usually when he does it’s because he can tell you need cuddles.

⮑ At first cuddles with kunikida are a bit stiff, but after some reassurance it becomes easier. He picks up on your favorite positions, what soothes you, and what irritates you. He writes all of this down ofc. He will never be little spoon during cuddle sessions, nope. Closest you get is him laying his head on your chest, but to him that requires letting someone else take the reins in the relationship which scares him. There are times though when he comes back from a case and is mentally distraught, and holding him is one of the only ways to soothe him.

⮑ Movie nights consist of you laying your body back against his chest, cuddles in bed can be anything in regards of holding you. He won’t admit it but sometimes when a day has gotten to him knowing you’re safe in his arms help. Never in public though, that’s a no no. Especially in front of his colleagues like Dazai. Cuddles are a private matter.

⮑ 7/10, after time he’s cuddles are comforting, but sometimes he misses the mark.

// atsushi nakajima ⌇˚.༄

⮑ He purrs. On accident. That’s the headcanon.

⮑ The first time he purrs you’re both cuddling and he for the first time completely lets his defenses down around you. That plus the fact that his tiger is very found of you, he ends up purring. Poor baby is so flustered and he won’t stop apologizing. It’s cute.

⮑ In my mind he’s 50/50 with his cuddles in the beginning, but it doesn’t take long for him to learn! He’s an orphan and he grew up with no affection, especially not physical. So it’s all new to him. But I definitely see him as a super cuddly person. I think after his first time cuddling you he’d become addicted.

⮑ The first time you two cuddled it was slightly awkward, he didn’t know what was comfortable for him and was afraid of hurting you. How? I don’t know, but he’s Atsushi so anything was possible in his mind. Once he finds the right positions for him and gets used to it he loves physical affection and cuddling. It doesn’t matter who’s holding who. In fact, he loves when they switch it up and his partner holds him sometimes instead.

⮑ Play with his hair and he will always purr. He hated it at first, he felt embarrassed. But after reassurance and realizing it was comforting to you he got used to it. Sometimes when you’re not doing well and you’re cuddling, he’ll purr on purpose to comfort you. This should be a more serious headcanon I’m pffft. In all seriousness he loves cuddling you and his temperature runs high so he’s very warm.

⮑ 10/10 cuddles in my opinion. Warm, comfortable, soft, like cozing up next to a furnace on a nice winter day.

// ranpo edogawa ⌇˚.༄

⮑ Can he even sit still long enough for cuddles?

⮑ Cuddling with Ranpo is like being in a relationship with him, you never know what’ll happen or when it’ll happen. It’s chaotic at best. Whether he has a hard time staying still, focusing on cuddles, or if he’ll ask or initiate them. Even more so, sometimes he likes to mess with you if you ask him to cuddle with you.

⮑ No really he will tease you, in public or private. Which brings me to my second point, he loves pda. He could care less that it makes people uncomfortable. At work? Someone is sitting in someone’s lap, it’s a must. I don’t make the rules. On the train? He’s resting his head against your shoulder either sucking on a lollipop or rambling to you.

⮑ It’s easy to say that the first time you both cuddled it was actually before you two were even in a relationship. Personally I do not see Ranpo dating someone he does not know, so you guys were friends first. And at first, he didn’t really care for being touched or touching anyone. But after a rough case you offered him a hug and he all but melted into your arms. Which can I just say, having him in your arms feels like heaven. He’s so squishy and cute. Holding him while he’s pouting? You’re done for.

⮑ I think it’s safe to say that after long days or tough cases being in your arms and being told he did great today is exactly all he needs. Even sweets can’t compare to that. I now headcanon he calls you sweets, it’ suits him.

⮑ 8/10, he’s very cute and soft, laying against him and taking a nap while he work is a dream. He just can’t sit still for long.

main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list

[jeonscatalyst]

when did you realise that Jikook were more than just a ship? when was the moment you were sure that their bond was deeper than that of coworkers or even friends?

Hi anon,

I don’t think there was one single moment that made me realize Jikook were more than just a ship. For me, it’s been a combination of many things…watching them grow, seeing how their relationship evolved over the years, and observing the very real, human elements in the way they interact. It’s all those little pieces coming together that made it feel different.

If I had to choose one particular phase, though, it would be fetus Jikook. Not because that period offered definitive proof that they were more than friends, but because it made it abundantly clear that their bond wasn’t your typical friendship or standard bandmate dynamic. While many people see that era as something that disproves Jikook, it was actually what made me start believing they had deeper feelings for each other. There was a lot of emotional push and pull…a kind that simply wouldn’t exist if they were just casual friends. And it wouldn’t exist either if, as some claim, they disliked or merely tolerated each other.

Moments like Jungkook “rejecting” Jimin in public, pushing him away, or being seemingly cold toward him were in stark contrast to what we heard or saw about his behavior in private or when he didn’t think anyone was watching. If someone’s touch repulses you, you don’t choose to spend nights alone with them. You don’t leave a shared bedroom with the other members just to sleep out in the hall with that person. If someone annoys you or makes you uncomfortable, you don’t cuddle them while they sleep. If you hate someone, you don’t confide in them during your most vulnerable moments. If you don’t care about someone or how they feel about you, you don’t break down into tears and lose your way simply because they threatened to stop caring about you. And if you’re not attracted to someone, you don’t stare at them to the point of completely losing yourself. You don’t mirror their smile, or laugh only because they are laughing.

You also don’t consistently turn your whole body toward them every time they speak. You don’t choose to spend the few precious hours of downtime after a long day of work with someone who means nothing to you. From their earliest days, it was clear to me that something was different. So seeing as we have established that Jungkook definitely felt nothing but love for Jimin, how else do you explain all that push and pull we saw with them years ago? I understand that human relationships are complex and nuanced and things aren’t always black and white but in this case, there is no other conclusion I could come to.

And as the years went on, their words and actions only added more weight to what I already suspected. They consistently did things that are more characteristic of people in romantic relationships. It doesn’t make sense to believe they were dating other members or anyone else when, from what we know, they spent most of their nights together. That’s the one time of day when they could be alone to rest or be with their partners or just spend quality time with the other members yet felt closest to, and yet they kept choosing each other. They prioritized one another, did things for each other first or only, and were the first to take a personal trip together when they had a short break. A break where most people would naturally choose to be with those they feel closest to.

And then there was the panic….that subtle tension in their interactions. While the other members’ interactions always felt smooth and relaxed, Jikook’s didn’t. Sometimes, you could feel the uneasiness, the hesitation, the nervous energy. To rival shippers, that awkwardness became “proof” that Jungkook was uncomfortable around Jimin. But that only makes sense if you’re ignoring the full picture….or refusing to see it.

Jimin and Jungkook are in a deeply complex situation. Expecting them to behave like a normal couple is a fundamental misunderstanding. Because of their circumstances, many things that would normally come naturally….like closeness (relaxing into each other’s arms or embrace) or affection, might instead come across as awkward or strained. Where you’d expect to see ease and comfort, you might see tension, because they have something very real to hide. Where you’d expect long touches and lingering stares, you might instead get brief but meaningful contact…glances that are quickly broken when someone notices. Because they have to catch themselves. They have something to hide. There wouldn’t be a stark difference in how Jungkook especially behaves when he is aware people are watching and when he thinks no one is. To me Jungkook has always been the main person who gave them away because while Jimin is naturally more difficult to read and seems to have a better control of his emotions, Jungkook doesn’t. Jungkook is an open book and he has no poker face to save his life. You literally read all of what he is feeling on his face and you would think after years and years of spending all that time in front of cameras he must have learned to control things…he hasn’t.

Think about it. In front of cameras and in public, you see hesitation, awkwardness, even discomfort. And yet, in every single moment we see them unaware or hear from other sources, they are practically joined at the hip. What does that say? Think about the car selfie moment….despite people insisting Jungkook doesn’t like Jimin being physically close. Or Summer Package 2018, when they were “caught” entering Jungkook’s hotel room together….despite claims that their interactions are only for show and they don’t interact when cameras aren’t rolling. Or the Harry Styles concert in L.A. in 2021….when Jungkook and Taehyung seemed affectionate in public, while Jimin and Jungkook barely interacted. To the “neighbours,” that moment was seen as proof that if Jungkook were dating any of the members, it had to be Taehyung. And yet, we later learned that Jungkook was actually spending nearly all of his time in Jimin’s room….working out, eating, returning from concerts, and spending nights there. What’s even more telling is that Taehyung didn’t even seem to know which room Jungkook was staying in, nor did he appear to know what Jungkook and Jimin were doing or how they were spending their days.

I bring up this example often because it’s one of the clearest signs that things are not always what they seem on the surface. It also highlights just how different Jimin and Jungkook’s dynamic is in private versus in public….and in this case, it’s so obvious that the difference is intentional. So really, think about it: why would they go out of their way to behave like that, unless they had something to hide? Why would they act one way in public and another in private….if they were just friends or simply bandmates?

So no, it wasn’t just one moment. It’s been a gradual build-up of many little things that, together, painted a very consistent picture. Isolated moments can be misleading, but patterns are much harder to ignore. When similar things keep happening again and again, that’s no accident…it’s intentional. I don’t know about others, but for me, it was never about one single interaction that made everything click. It was more like collecting small drops of water…moments, details, patterns…that eventually turned into an ocean. With each new piece of information and every passing year, my certainty only grew stronger.

I don’t know if this is exactly the answer you were hoping for, but this is what it’s been like for me.

[dearmyloveleys]

RE: the absolute fascination (and adoration) I have with the symbolism of Zhu Yan's and Li Lun's weapons, how it reveals their respective characterisations and the discussion of humanity

There are so many aspects that I love about FoF but I still believe how the show represents LiYan's relationship + worldview through their weapons is one of the best uses of visual storytelling and literary/visual devices I have seen in recent years. (long text ahead!)

A Gift and A Curse

Where did their complications start? The exchange of gifts. Why do we gift another presents? For affection. It's so ironically simple, free of malice and at its basis so, so human. For a demon like Li Lun who claims to not understand humans, he reciprocates the moment of kindness Zhu Yan shows him - the rattle to make him happy, and him giving Zhu Yan the umbrella to shelter him from rain.

There is something so beautifully ironic about two great demons eventually using ordinary, human household objects as their weapons. And items given to each other at that. When they first receive them, both the umbrella and rattle are just simple objects with no meaning attached to it, except for the goodwill of friendship. There is no inherent ill-intention and it is pure. Yet.

Li Lun ultimately only understands reciprocation, and not truly the innate kindness and affection which Zhu Yan demonstrates. Zhu Yan gave Li Lun the rattle to have him understand why he finds humans wonderful: Can any of our demonic powers have the ability to make someone happy just like this rattle does for a child? Li Lun gives Zhu Yan the umbrella because Zhu Yan gave him the rattle and made him happy. Li Lun understands the action, and does not grapple with its underlying intentions. He consistently struggles with this throughout the story, especially when actions do not match up with the speaker's reasonings.

Dissonance in character is an extremely human trait, and the understanding of this is where Zhu Yan and Li Lun’s stories and similarities diverge. Zhu Yan on one hand, understands the complexity of humans and is at terms with it. Li Lun on the other hand, never understands the ability to be complex and paints humanity black. Their gifts are still turned into weapons that will eternally curse them of their once-there closeness, because of each other and their inability to reconcile their ideologies. How they use the umbrella and rattle from here on, represents their differences in their views of humanity.

Double Edged

When watching any fantasy/wuxia/xianxia cdrama, everyone who is written as a fighter usually has an offensive weapon used and made for injuring and killing. But not when it comes to Zhu Yan and Li Lun - they are two individuals who will certainly be masters in weaponry if they wielded a sword or blade. But they don’t.

In the Wilderness, from what we see, none of the demons use weapons. Even Cheng Huang uses an hourglass. Both Li Lun and Zhu Yan do not own any weapons before gifting each other the rattle and umbrella, and these aren’t even supposed to be used as weapons. There is such an underlying innocence to demons that instead of choosing a blade to take as a weapon, they choose these essentially harmless items instead. Though, this innocence ends here. The concept of weapons is a human creation. The concept of making an item specifically just to harm others is an especially human conception. By adopting the identity of weapons onto their gifts, the multifaceted nature of weaponry and thereby humanity seeps into their characters. Weaponry is both ironically and ironically human, and their weapons represent both sides of human nature that Zhu Yan and Li Lun believe in.

A weapon is only causes harm in one's hands if you make command it to. Do you protect or do you do harm with it? I find it so telling and intriguing that Zhu Yan and Li Lun run off in either directions with the purposes of a weapon. Zhuyan has always been fascinated by the human world versus Lilun having apathetic views of the human world, and they reflect this in how they use their weapons.

Zhu Yan uses his umbrella to always shield his team, protect and deflect harm, while the harm he inflicts on others comes from his innate spiritual energy (one word spells). He protects this simple umbrella and preserves its goodness, indirectly making sure to not sully the goodness of humanity. Instead, he chooses to use himself as the offensive weapon. On the other hand, Li Lun turns his rattle into an offensive weapon, changing its tip into a dagger. Before it is destroyed, all his attacks are summoned from strikes against the rattle. He doesn’t care, and humanity is trash, therefore he treats this object of innocence with irreverence and violence.

Though, there still is Li Lun’s favourite question: Is it better to be a demon or human? He chooses human. Which at the very least, is interesting.

Who You Wish To Be

The thematic concern of LiYan's relationship is very much defined by this question they often pose or have been asked by others: Is being a human or a demon better?

On an even deeper level, the juxtaposition between Li Lun's use of the rattle and what he says, being a human is better, is even more encompassing of his character — driven, conflicted obsession. The same way he keeps trying to break Zhuo Yichen and Zhuyan, but manages to maintain somehow civil and emotional conversations with them, his treatment of his rattle but the fact he thinks being human is better, and his one-time statement “maybe the human world is interesting after all” are contradictory. He is never at peace with himself and cannot accept things the way they are. He is very much a child, misguided and believing that things are one-dimensional (all humans are bad, Zhuyan how could you hurt me for them) while things in reality are complex. Even his best intentions, from his line “I, Li Lun, will never run away from things (…)” is innocently one dimensional. He will never be the human he wants to be until he comes to terms with this. And most importantly, it's not even about being human. It's never about titles or names, it's about who he wants to be. Li Lun once again is fixated on surface levels that he doesn't grasp the depth of reality.

"Whether one is a human or demon, it's only a matter of titles. Just be whoever you want to be." - Zhu Yan, Ep 26.

Zhu Yan is the stellar opposite of Li Lun. He doesn’t sully Li Lun’s gift to him and uses it the way Lilun initially gave it to him for: to protect. And his answer to the Demon or Human question as written above is telling of his character, compared to Li Lun's set-in-stone answer. But despite everything, what makes everything so tragic is what started it in the first place: affection. One keeps that affection as a weapon to spread the same to others, while the other keeps and weaponises that affection to regain it all back.

Just like how he uses his rattle to relentlessly pursue revenge, Li Lun is so insistent on what should have been, that he doesn't see what can be, and it curses him. Zhu Yan sees the possibilities of everything, wants to protect the good, and it curses him. Perhaps its this inevitability of their separation and also the sliver of hope that they can reconcile, trapped in their shared respective curses, that troubles them deep down.

-

Their weapons symbolise both their ideologies, and serve as physical reminders of their intertwined past. Regardless of how they use their weapons, they use a reminder of the other as defense and offense against the world. A diverged path still has met once before. The sharpest blade is still one crafted from the torment of memory.

On Visual Story-Telling

The use of these unusual objects in c-drama land as weapons is such a stroke of genius on the production team and writers' part. It gives so much more flavour and uniqueness to these characters instead of the usual sword or spear. Such small, precise, details with large implications on characterisation.