#Sorry you got a whole dissertation in response I just like thinking about these two in particular lol

[somegrumpynerd]

This little interaction made me so happy! Killer really fought through Dream to give Cross his necklace back

Asjlkhdkgkd I'm so glad you liked it!! I had fun putting a little story into that one ^^

And, because I am normal and don't think about these guys for hours every day, here's some backstory:

When Cross first joined, Killer actually took to him pretty quickly (Dust and Horror did not get warm welcomes). Which is to say he immediately started flocking to Cross to annoy him and compete with him on missions. Cross didn't have the benefit of knowing Killer already to see these were affectionate annoyances, so to him Killer was just some guy who had a problem and wouldn't leave him alone.

During that mission, Nightmare was calling a retreat when he put a hand to his chest and realised the heart locket was gone. Killer saw him looking all around frantically and had a good idea what was lost, since it was the one thing Cross would absolutely not part with since he joined. So, Killer ran back out towards the stars to look for it, because why learn self preservation now. It was the first thing to convince Cross that Killer actually was being (relatively) friendly, despite all the annoyances.

And also, a doodle of the afterwards of that picture

because it's probably the only time he's managed to get Killer to shut up lol

[spotaus]

Yeaaahhh, I was having mental block because I want to finally write a proper Dream Drabble, but I need to wait until I'm home on break, so Lust in the meantime!

Lust definitely works at that shop as a kid because (like you mention later) he was always causing some sort of trouble, so his family sent him to find work and try to be responsible and. Well. Yeah, he loved it a bunch, and had to work hard to figure everything out, but it works out swimmingly because he really just never leaves! He loves that place!

And AUGH!! Thank you! I wanted to bring in a couple more piece of magic lore (totally not inspired by your ask, which, by the way, is so so good and I'm going to dig into it after I manage to get through my work today!) because I always give Reaper and Geno these colorful eye-markings, and I wanted a lore purpose! His grandfather settled begrudgingly, but managed to secure himself a nice cushy life (mix of Nim just having that infatuation with skeletons, and being better off than most people by coming from Reaper's, he was able to establish a bit easier-) and Lust was used to that! It's a pretty obvious sign that he's a foreigner (I'm thinking about something like that for Horror too, maybe just his size is telling enough, and Cross has that mark of his old kingdom so that's covered lol-) but he doesn't mind it, and because he enjoys fashion, sometimes he can play it off as make-up.

Seperate thing for the Geno/Dust/Reaper situation because I actually wanna dig into it a lil! Geno was originally from a different place, and has no ancestry connected to Reaper's kingdom. However, I like to think that the more connected to magic you are, and the longer you stay in the kingdom, the more likely it is that the markings will show. Lust has them because Life's magic (through the intent in the plants his ancestors ate, the water they drank, etc) kind of defines their magic. A few generations down the line, his ancestors would stop having the marks. Geno, though, came and lived right in the heart of the kingdom, and constantly called on his own magic to cast spells, which is influenced every so slightly by surrounding magic situations too. So, I'd say a few months into being there, his markings set in. (At first he thought that they were just really prominent eyebags or the result of magic overuse, but one day Reaper was like "Oh! You've already got your markings, that was quick! They look good on you! :]" and Geno was like 'My what?' and got the whole dissertation.) Dust would be SO surprised to find he now has basically permanent color around his sockets. It's definitely based on the other two's magic accepting his, and by default, if Reaper accepts you you just kinda... become part of the kingdom. So the next time he sees his reflection he's like ?????. They fade a bit when he's a long distance from Reaper's kingdom or the two of them, but not by much. He's lucky he hides his face a lot anyways! Anywhooo. That Scifell plotline would involve this too, where Red gets his markings under his eyes after like a year of sticking around. It's like a blessing from life (for those religious or superstiscious) maybe Geno calls it the 'Kiss of Death' instead, to be cheeky.

And!!! Sorry back to Lust! Not to put him into the horrible spiral of Nim but! Exactly!! If he were just a few years older or born a bit earlier, Nim would've had her sights SET. (I really do think it'd be funny if Nim really liked skeleton monsters and only had a few others. And like, her father before her collected fire elementals, and before that her grandmother liked aquatic monsters, etc, so the diversity levels of the previous kings are off the charts-) I almost wonder if Lust's parents specifically held back on having kids for a while, already out of Nim's preference range and stage, but they decided to have Lust in a bought of confidence, unaware that Nim would soon be hunting for a new future mate for her twins- And yeah, Lust's family would've been the exact desired look for a skeleton in Nim's tastes, but they didn't have any young enough kids, so she moved her search elsewhere. Lust came just barely after Nim had established that Ccino would care for the twins and ended her searches, but Lust was always warned as a kid to try not to draw attention of the royals. Just in case. (Ohhh yeah, Ccino's mom narrowly dodged one bullet. Just uhh. just to get set on fire- I'll leave now.) And. This is a bit late but I don't want to format it right, but!!!! Nim would've totally tried to set Dream up with Lust!! Gods that's so crazy.

Lust's personality is one that is a little bit of a struggle, but I think he's got a healthy amount of fears. Just. Not relating to him and his own actions and confidence as a person. His whole life he's had this nagging feeling that he could be in some sort of danger, he heard the nobles whispering and the worried nights his parents had as he grew older and they saw glimpses of the Golden Prince out and about (Lust thought Dream was handsome, but was pretty sure if they ever talked he'd want to punch the guy. Assumed Dream was an average snotty brat of a royal.) So, he's very assertive, makes loyal friends, has a BUNCH of acquaintances, and also very many enemies.

ANGST!!! YIPPEEE!!!! Definitely. He's smart. Especially once he gets to the capital and he's no longer sheltered entirely by his family. He hears about how a skeleton a lot like him was part of Nim's harem once, how maybe he could draw the prince's attention while he was still young and call dibs on a spot. How he was very pretty, an eyecatcher, etc. Definitely had more than a few nights up worrying about that. About how he was just luckily too young, just luckily born after the search, that his parents had waited a few years. 'It just wasn't right back then' they'd say, but he knew their warnings now. It was nerve-wracking.

When Nightmare takes over, part of Lust is actually excited. He'd been bothered by so many (well-meaning) people about how much potential he had if the new king noticed him, that when it was the unheard of little recluse twin that stole power, it seemed to make everything make so much more sense. Everything actually seemed *safer*. If everyone was busy with the end of the world, no one was objectifying him. And then things got better, and the talk of a harem all but died out into normal compliments and flirts, nothing about the king. It was strange, but a comfort.

And!!! Yeah, Ccino coming to the shop is CRAZY. Lust would 100% be 14 (I'm impressed by the math, hehe-) and staring at Ccino and wondering what hell the castle had put him through. He'd seen Ccino there before maybe once, looking no better, but now it was going to be more frequent. Ccino looked stressed and tired all the time, and Lust's gut kinda did twists because, well, if Ccino is who he thinks Ccino is, the one chosen by Nim, then... what was he doing now? He didn't seem happy or all dressed up, not like he was expecting, and he was running servant errands, not being pampered... and there's a little bit of pervasive fear in there. He's young, he wants to ask Ccino if he's okay when he stops by, wants to give him a gift to tell him it's alright, ask if he needs help. But he's a kid, and has no clue what he could do, so he leaves it be. And exactly like you said, he dreads the fact that... that could have been him.

And I like to think that, as things went on, because Ccino was a pretty regular customer, he got to see his healing journey second-hand in real-time. And by the time Lust took over the shop, the old owner had dusted and Ccino was speaking to him instead now. He was patient when Lust scrambled an order or made too much of a certain fabric. Always said that it was a lot of work for Lust to take on all at once. And Lust kinda looked up to him in those years. They weren't so different, one just had the luck of being born with the princes and not before.

Andddddd I love that. yeah. Lust is only able to visit the castle itself *after* everything goes down, so he never directly gets to meet the adult nightmare everyone knew, only glimpses during balls. So, when Cross lets him visit finally, Cross warns him to be wary if he meets Nightmare. And. Nightmare's just a little guy! What do you mean this baby is the same an who murdered people and rewrote the country??? Lust has to refrain from treating Nightmare like a child. At this age he worked and had a job too. But... big difference.

And yep! No one really clarifies to Lust what the deal is until he's been around for... probably years atp. so he makes some pretty accurate guesses. Just by the way Ccino kneels down to button up Nightmare's winter tunic explained everything to him. He has mixed feelings, but ultimately can accept that, under their circumstances, they're managing pretty damn well.

THE PARTIES!!! Lust took one look at Cross getting knighted and was like, 'Ah, yes, there's a handsome bachelor!' because! If his family is made up on nobles, and he wasn't chosen by Nim? They're not above arranging a marriage for him (Nightmare has been putting his foot down about Arranged Marriage too tho-) and so Lust's actually kinda been eyeing up the Knights since Killer's knighting, so that he might actually get a say. but... Killer was too old, and also Lust heard rumors that he was a murderer sooo nope. Horror was a bit younger but just didn't seem the type to date. He's pretty sure Dust was ready to kill anyone who approached him at his ball. Cross was kind of his last chance, and, oh! He's actually handsome! And young! But, like you said, when he noticed Cross was formally declining dances and seemed overwhelmed, he didn't even bother to shoot his shot. (Shout out to Nightmare on choosing introverts and awkward dudes as his Knights. Killer was the only one really outgoing, Horror managed longer, Dust had no patience, and Cross just kinda pushed his way through.

And then!!! Ccino comes up to him and is like, take this boy he doesn't know how to dress and my plate is full. Please help. And Lust is more than happy to help!!! He was thinking about this guy for months!! Ccino dropped him on his doorstep like an early birthday present! And while Lust did have ulterior motives at first (get his family off his back) it literally never was a motivator after he actually got to talk with Cross because. Cross is a dork?? He's shy, and cute, and gets all serious and protective and acts like the storybook knight anytime his job gets brought up? he's passionate, and kind, and doesn't get things right all the time but he tries. And Lust is just enamored. Entirely. (Shout out to Ccino!!! Accidentally putting relationships together since forever!)

And awe!!!! Lust and Ccino friendship my beloved.... Lust would definitely still harbor some guilt. (especially after he chose to enter the chaotic lives of the Knights and the Castle, when Ccino had no choice and could be anywhere but here if he hadn't been taken) and Ccino's answer... so comforting, so genuine. That's DEFINITELY where Nightmare got his demeanor from, and ur right, that's how everything has turned out okay!

Bonus Note: I think that Lust would get along great with Ink. Like, y'know the whole jealous partner trying to seperate their partner from friends? Wrong. Lust is embracing Ink in all his weirdness and attachment to Ink. They're the trio that people *think* are actually poly, but it's just that Ink is their clingy best friend. Ink respects their date nights and when they want to spend time alone, and so it's really healthy for the three of them! Along that line, Ink is usually out on his own assassination missions (he's still a separate contractor) or following Blue and Dream. Lust... gets along decent with Dream. Dream actually aged, so it makes Lust a bit uncomfortable to be around him (not because of him acting out of line, but just the years of other people using Dream's name to unintentionally harrass him). Along those same lines, Cross told Lust about what happened between them, and if only for Cross' sake he can't just forgive what Dream did. He won't retaliate like we wants to (though he did take a seam-ripper to Dream's cloak once when he saw it sitting out in a common-space, so it fell apart later when he tried to wear it) but he won't be chummy. Blue's fine. No strong feelings from Lust either way with him, he's just a guy living his life.

Hi guys. So. Idk if I ever actually posted about Lust from New Age beyond establishing his relationship w/ Cross. (Ancha I beg of you if this contradicts smth please tell me lmao-) SO I'm gonna try and infordump what I can about thoughts which have been building up in my brain, all finally exploding because of this doodle I did for that shitpost lol.

So! Lust, I've established, works at/runs a tailor shop in the city surrounding Nightmare's castle, right in the capital. It's a decent one, has a good flow of people and serves mostly monsters with a few human customers. It's staff consists of Lust (head stylist/tailor), Hapstablook (Swap!Mettaton, the main seamstress who stays in back), Simulacre (My own mettaton from Doppletale, who designs), and the fourth spot on their staff is constantly shifting since they can't seem to keep a front desk worker. Lust wasn't initially the owner of the building or shop, but after the owner passed away, it was left in his hands.

I like to believe that Lust's family came from Reaper's kingdom! Mainly because I think that the magic there from Life is so potent that it leaves a mark on families or people who live there and embrace her magic. Lust's great grandparents moved away to the kingdom under false pretenses of peace, and were rapidly trapped in the kingdom and made to start a new life. The marks under his eyes, the light blue that looks like eyeliner, is actually a magic marking. (Reaper and Geno have marks that resemble eyebags in blue/red, and if Dust stuck around long enough or bonded w/ Geno and Reaper he'd get purple ones :] ) So, he has just the tiniest connection to the magic of that land through his appearance.

He's lucky he was born slightly before the princes, because Nim totally would've stolen him away from his parents. He's pretty much exactly what Nim was searching for. And honestly, I think it'd be interesting if a few generations before (he's the first long-living monster in his family fir a few generations) one of his great aunts or uncles was taken away to be part of Nim's harem. Just thinking...

Anyways, yeah, Lust is pretty, and his bloodline derives from Reaper's land of plenty.

He's also a handful. The kinda guy who remembers everything about you, your drama, and your likes and dislikes and uses it for better or worse. Kinda guy to hear someone he doesn't like is allergic to nuts and sprinkle a bit of peanut oil on their food or smth. But in the same breath, if you tell him your favorite fruit is a razzberry in passing, you will end up with razzberry-coded outfits for the next month <3. This absolutely obliterates Cross while they're dating, because he's say something like his shoulder hurts from training and Lust will add extra support to his clothes so they take pressure off the spot, or Cross will mention that the X pattern of stitch on an embroidery is a bad reminder and Lust unstiches it and makes something prettier over the spot, etc. Lust enjoys doing that sort of thing (he's definitely not a people pleaser, this is only for those he cares for) and it's a nice treat for both ends. Cross isn't used to someone listening so closely to him.

Oh! Lust and Error get along, I think. It comes with the territory of fabrics. Error has a thing with textures, usually only wears things he makes, but he's prideful and hates asking for help sewing pieces of his wardrobe together. So. He uses a binding spell to keep like, the arms of his jacket connected to the torso instead. (He doesn't want to go to Sasha and the others in the castle, again a pride thing, and he doesn't want to ask Ccino because Ccino's nice to him and it's a dumb request.) But Lust? Lust hears that Error makes his own clothes while talking with Sasha about Nightmare's fabrics (post reveal of his and Cross' involvement, ofc) and Lust decides he wants to see for himself. He's respectful of their jump in status, but asks if he could see the fabric, because weaving one's own clothing from magic is very impressive! Error actually hasn't had anyone tell him that and then ask to see it... but this is Cross' mystery boyfriend and so it's probably fine. So he hands over one of his sweaters. And Lust is befuddled to find he can't find any proper seams for the sleeves or hem, and asks Error about it. After that Lust manages to coax Error into sewing lessons every once in a while (maybe they start a little club, because I think we mentioned Ccino might try to learn to knit too?) so that he doesn't have to waste his energy on his clothes anymore. Lust also provides him with pattern suggestions for different clothing styles, just in case he wants a challenge (he does.)

Lust makes fast friends with people, but Error is the one he's the most proud of.

Lust tries to steer clear of Nightmare usually. Not because he doesn't trust him (no, Lust believes he's very very safe with Nightmare) but because he feels strange with the king being a little boy. He doesn't like that he sees bags under Nightmare's eyes, or that he jumps at the slightest sounds, or that he's always ducking under Killer's arm, tucking into Cross' side, like a cautious animal.

He tries not to pry, but he always worried about Ccino when he could come in for new fabric for a new outfit, usually dark pine green or black, sometimes the tans he liked to wear. Between what he's seen and what Cross told him after the fact, Ccino has been raising their king solo for many years, and practically kept the kingdom afloat. But Nightmare was constantly vigilant, to the point of passing out at his desk and having 20 plans just in case, and stressing hinself out about the state of a small border village so badly that he'd start crying? Lust knows this is for the best, Nightmare will lead them into a bright future, but that poor kid is just a baby to Lust. A very capable baby, but just a baby. He doesn't like to linger too long or else he feels guilty.

And uhhh. Hm.... I think he likes it when Nightmare throws parties. A LOT. Not only is it great for business, but he also gets to dress up! He tries to look nice at work, but his most creative outfits happen at the balls open to the public, like the knighting ceremonies. (Lust saw Cross for the first time there, at the ceremony. It was a few weeks later that Ccino brought Cross to him and insisted he needed a full wardrobe change.) Lust just gets to socialize and have fun in a responsible setting! It's great!

Last thing. Lust adores the other Knights. Like, ofc Cross is his beloved teddy bear, but once he gets to know the others he fits right in. Horror (and Farm, they met at a ball initially) are adorable. Horror loves to cook, abd Lust isn't a picky eater so he'll try any recepie offered to him! Dust is very closed off at first, but when he saw how Dust acted around Killer (mouthing off, pulling his hood down) he looked tired, but very happy. His little smile was genuine and calm. Killer is a riot and lets Lust and Sasha use him for an equivalent of fashion shows! Killer always jokes to Cross that he's stealing his maiden, and the first time Cross almost bit Killer. (<- He finds it funny once Killer gets together with Ccino because now he knows it's 100% a joke. Both Ccino and Lust would maul Killer if he tried to start cheating 🙏)

[christowhore]

Making You Mine

pairing: chris evans x professor!fem!reader, chris evans x oc!female (brief)

summary: you and chris have your first date.

word count: 3.0k

warnings: !!! 18+ minors dni !!! slight smut, fluff, age gap (reader is 28, chris is 39) suggestive conversation, two dorks in love, alcohol consumption, heavy making out, dry humping, orgasms, rpf

notes: ngl to y’all i didn’t even mean to make it include some smut, but i ended up getting carried away. this is the second part of the ‘Pining for Professor’ series. i hope you all enjoy it and make sure to let me know what you think! *i do not give consent for this fic to be reposted or translated*

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MAIN MASTERLIST • SERIES MASTERLIST

The next few days that passed after your encounter seemed to fly by. You were busy working on your dissertation while Chris was attending ASP interviews.The two of you would text from time to time, just keeping the other updated about your life.

Chris had planned the evening out. Before considering what meal he wanted to make you, he made sure to ask you about any dietary concerns or allergies that you might have, and he was thankful that he did. You informed him that the only food allergy you had was apples. Part of him thought you were joking because he never heard of that being a restriction one could face, but after sending him a photo of one of your allergic reactions, he trashed every single apple he had stored in his fridge. A dramatic reaction, yes, but he wanted to make sure you were both completely safe and comfortable.

He decided on making a simple pasta dinner, something easy that he believed he couldn’t possibly mess up. It wasn’t until he was googling wine pairings when he remembered the woman he was supposed to have this same evening with just a few days ago; Lindsey.

Chris had been so preoccupied with you that he completely forgot about the woman. Looking at his phone and opening their messages, he saw that he had been accidentally ghosting her for the past three days. Not knowing how to deliver the news, he decided it would be best to break things off over the phone than through a text.

Clicking on her contact, he dialed her number and listened to the dial tone ring in his ear. He was pondering on what to say when he heard her voice through the phone. “Hey stranger, I was wondering when you were gonna call me back.”

“Hey Lindsey, sorry I got a little busy with life. Can we talk?”

For about the next five minutes, Chris tried his best to not give the cliche ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse, but in the end he had to explain to the woman how he met somebody else, you, and that he didn’t want to string her along any longer. The call ended with some harsh words from her which he expected. Even though he hated that he hurt her feelings, in the end all he kept thinking about was you.

A couple miles away from his home, you were at your house going through your entire wardrobe trying to find the perfect outfit to wear. Did you want to go the fancy route and wear a nice dress or something casual like jeans and a blouse? Even though Chris told you the plans he had scheduled for your rendezvous, you were still feeling nervous about the whole affair.

Thankfully with the help of your friends, they were able to ease your worries and help you out with your ensemble.

The night before the planned evening, the two of you lay awake, plagued with nerves. Worried about messing up and ruining the chance to be with the other.

With how his morning started the day of his previously planned affair, Chris made sure that nothing could stand in the way of tonight. He had his suit pressed, the ingredients needed for the meal prepped, and a bouquet of red roses bought fresh from the florist resting in a vase of water. Scott went with Dodger over to his sister Shanna’a house, leaving the home to himself.

The day proceeded quickly and soon enough it was time for the date. You agreed to drive over and meet him at his home, arriving there around eight in the evening.

Walking up to the home and knocking on the door, you kept cracking your knuckles, a nervous tick of yours whenever you got anxious. Once the entryway was opened and Chris stepped into your sight, all of those pesky jitters suddenly left your body.

Chris was clad in a tailored black suit that clung to his frame. The white button up he donned was crisp and clean, you could make out a few of his tattoos peeking through the material. Accessorizing his attire, he wore a black and silver watch, the silver in the band matching the Saint Christopher medallion clasped around his neck showing through the opening of his top. His hair was perfectly gelled, making him look fresh out of a photo shoot.

He looked absolutely delectable and part of you didn’t even care about the meal, you just wanted to know how the material of his clothes felt against your skin.

When Chris opened up his door he knew you’d be there, beautiful as ever but he didn’t expect the sight that he was met with.

Your regularly curly hair was straightened, cascading off your shoulders and perfectly framing your face. The makeup you applied made your features light up. He took notice of the lipgloss you put on and all he wanted to do was grab you and taste the substance that was lucky enough to touch your lips.

Looking your body up and down, he noticed your black silk dress, a tie in the middle cinching the material together. The material stopped at your mid thighs revealing your velvety smooth legs and high heeled shoes. Thoughts of him trailing his hands up the sides of your calves while he pinned you below him flashed in his mind. Quickly he shook the image out of his mind to put back all of his attention on you.

“You look absolutely breathtaking,” he whispered in awe.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

As you entered his home, he placed a hand on the small of your back tugging your frame into him so he could place a kiss on your cheek. The same butterflies you experienced when he pecked you that night in the parking lot reappeared by the dozens.

The smell of sautéing onions and garlic filled your senses, instantly making your stomach lurch around. “Whatever it is you're making smells amazing,” you commented to the brunette.

He bashfully smiled, “Thank you, I’m almost finished, though I should let you know I’m not the greatest cook.”

You laughed at his comment, unconsciously placing your palm against his upper arm. “It’s alright Chris, at least you have your looks right?”

It was his turn to laugh, your playful matter had him buzzing.

The two of you made your way through the kitchen, him to the front of the stove while you sat in the high chair behind the counter top. Before he returned to cooking the vegetables, he grabbed the bouquet of red roses he had ordered and handed them to you, a smile instantly appearing on your face.

You thanked him for his generosity and the two of you continued on in lively conversation while he focused back on finishing dinner.

Laughter filled the room while you two chatted in his living room. You two had finished dinner, Chris making a wonderful shrimp scampi that even he was surprised tasted good.

Even though you spent three hours talking that evening in your office, you two didn’t have any difficulty finding new topics to explore.

You spoke about your family and how life was growing up without siblings. How it felt being at an advanced academic level at such a young age, which allowed you the opportunity of being employed at the university at 21. Surprisingly, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable around the man, something that you had never done before. It was something about his demeanor. His presence was inviting and captivating, and all you wanted to do was continue to be around the actor.

Chris was at a loss of words with how to describe how you made him feel. You had such a hypnotizing way to yourself. He would listen to your laugh and drink it in as if it were the last time his ears would be blessed with the sound. Your smile was so genuine, stretching from ear to ear and all he wanted to do was keep that look on your face till the end of his days. He didn’t know he was staring at you until you waved in front of his face, regaining his attention.

“Earth to Evans. Are you okay there?” Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed while you stared intently into his eyes, waiting for his response. He didn’t even think about the next words that came out of his mouth when he spoke.

“I know that we just met last week, and this is only our first date, but would you do me the honor of being able to call you my girlfriend?”

The statement that was rushed out of his mouth had you choke on your glass of wine. Regaining your composure, you set the drink down and looked up at Chris.

There wasn’t any humor in his eyes, just determination as well as a bit of trepidation.

You were about to speak when he started up again. “Usually when meeting someone, I go on about two to three dates with them. Get to know them and go through the ‘what if’s’ possibilities. But with you I realized I can’t wait that long. The only thing I care about is being able to see that smile on your face, and have the melodic sound of your laugh ingrained in my life. And I don’t want to waste another second trying to determine ‘what if’ we’re not a match when I already know that you’re the one for me.”

This time you were the one at a loss of words. Emotions wrangle throughout your body. You were nervous, but the nerves that stood on end were due to the fact of being scared of how quickly you were falling for him.

Without saying anything but donning a beaming grin, you nodded.

Chris immediately leant forward and molded his lips with yours. The kiss was soft and delicate. His right hand slightly cupped your cheek, and in that moment you felt safe, you felt at ease. There was no other place the two of you wanted to be than right there in each other’s embrace.

When you pulled away it felt like time was at a standstill, nothing else mattered but the two of you being together. Even though he wasn’t a photographic person, Chris felt this overwhelming need to document this moment.

He quickly pulled out his phone and asked you if it were okay to take a photo of the two of you, a personal keepsake so to speak. You nuzzled into his side, shoulders touching, breaths fanning across each other’s face. Chris extended his hand with the camera app open and aimed towards the two of you. Though you were looking at the screen, a beaming grin stretched across your features, he was only looking at you. Admiring you as if you were his entire world, which you were slowly but surely becoming. Snapping the photo, he locked his phone and tucked it away back into his slacks.

With the close proximity you two shared, he took advantage of the opportunity to kiss you again. He was desperate to feel you, touch you, taste you. The flavor of your strawberry lip gloss inviting him in.

You melted into him, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket pulling him closer into you. He leaned into your touch, causing the two of you to lay back against his couch.

His hips were slotted in between your legs, crotch rubbing against your warm core. The friction drawing out a low moan from your chest.

He continued to feverishly attack your mouth. This kiss was different from the first. This was pure hunger. You two were desperate to feel the other. His tongue slotted into your mouth, tasting the leftover remnants of the Pinot Grigio you consumed. Notes of grapes and honeysuckles on your tongue made him push deeper. The intoxicating taste and the effects of the alcohol had him unconsciously grinding into you, rubbing his cock against your covered mound.

You ran your hands across the expanse of his body. Rubbing his arms, slightly gripping his ass, tangling your hands into the brown tuffs of his hair, you couldn’t get enough. He felt amazing against you. The rubbing of his hips were drawing out moans that you didn’t even try to suppress due to the unwavering desire you felt towards him. You felt him lift your leg up, giving himself more room to rut against you. The movement caused your dress to hike up, showing the lace of your black thong to your now boyfriend.

The two of you continued with your actions. Tongue slapping against each other as you sloppily tasted the other. The movements of his hips against your cunt accelerated to a rigorous pace when he felt a wet patch growing on your panties.

You felt like honey teenagers, dry humping each other like a pair of desperate virgins, but in that moment it was perfect.

Drawing away from each other, Chris nestled his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath sending shockwaves of arousal straight to your core.

You were both close to reaching your respective peak, your moans were getting wilder and his hips were becoming unruly.

It only took a few more bumps of his crotch against your covered clit for you to gush in your panties. An erotic moan left your lips and filled the room while your back arched, pushing your breasts against his chest.

Hearing the near pornographic sound that left your body, while feeling your peer nipples press against his front allowed him to reach his release as well. Biting down against the column of your neck, he came in his pants, filling his boxer briefs with his seed.

Chris collapsed on top of your panting body, the two of you trying to regain a steady breath. He lay there in your arms, your nails dragging along the nape of his neck.

When he finally regained composure, Chris raised up on his palms and looked down at you. And as if your minds were synced up, you both erupted in a fit of giggles.

After coming down for your laugh attacks, you excused yourself to the bathroom to freshen up.

You stood in front of the mirror, examining your reflection. There was still some adrenaline flowing through your bloodstream causing your hands to slightly shake. Your lips were red and swollen due to the attack on them moments prior. But what you couldn’t ignore was the dopey smile that seemed to take permanent residence on your face. You felt like a giddy schoolgirl, though you weren’t complaining.

Your recently ended relationship with your ex Justin was not great. The reason for the break up was due to the fact that he didn’t make you feel special. Looking back at it now you don’t even know why you agreed to start dating him in the first place. But you were thankful it concluded, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, with a man who looked at you like you hung the moon and placed every star in the sky yourself.

Back in the living room, Chris paced around the living room for your return. Happiness surged through him, making him pump his fist in the air like he was John Bender in The Breakfast Club.

He's been with plenty of women throughout his life, even getting engaged to one, but it was in this moment he realized he had never been so infatuated with someone until you entered his life. You made all of the hairs on his body stand up just by looking at him. It elated him but also scared him. It scared him due to how fast he was falling for you. But he didn’t care. Though this feeling was foreign, he had no problem welcoming it with open arms.

After a few moments consisting of composing yourself, you made your way out of the bathroom and back to Chris. You two stood there, just smiling at each other like idiots. It was him who finally piped up.

“So that was some first date.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment.

“Tell me about it,” you replied.

The two of you conversed some more before it got late and you decided to call it a night. Making sure you had all of your belongings, including your roses, he escorted you to your car.

Resting against the door, you couldn’t resist temptation so you pulled him into you, attaching your lips to his once more. This kiss wasn’t the apprehensive one you first shared, or the hungry and desperate one that came after. This kiss was full of passion. It was the type that made you breathe out a sigh of relief into the other's mouth, glad that your bodies were in union in such an intimate manner. Neither of you wanting it to end.

When you finally pulled apart, Chris rested his forehead against your own, trying to savor the moment a while longer.

“I’ll call you when I get home, alright?”

Repeating the actions yet again of your first meeting, he went to open your door, waiting for you to slide in before shutting in. After turning on the engine, you rolled the window down allowing Chris to rest against the frame on his forearms.

“See you later, girlfriend.”

“Right back at you, boyfriend.”

Giving you a fleeting kiss goodbye, he stood up and watched as you pulled out of his driveway and back to your home.

Chris stood there in his driveway for a while. He thought about how the date went twenty times better than any other one he’d ever been on. How you made him feel like the greatest man in the world. The way your lips met his and how it was like they were made to be caressed by his. The smile that crept on your face when he called you his girlfriend. And he thought about how now nothing else in this world mattered except for keeping you in his life and making sure that wonderful smile never left your features.

A/N: so the song True by Spandau Ballet is the song i envisioned when Chris opened the door. it’s that one slow 80s song they play in movies where it’s goes like ‘ah ah ah ahhh ahh’ it's all romantic and what not, y’all know the song i’m talking about, that one. cheesy i know, but i works.

anyway baby, i know there’s not a lot of dialogue, i’ve come to the realization that it’s one of my weakness but i’ll be working on it.

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* dividers credit: @firefly-graphics *

[someonestolemyshoes]

Hi! Have u done any pregnant Hanji and overprotective daddy Levi already?? Yep i think im craving for more domestic levihan family, im sorry 😭

Im a bit new here in the community, and when i read ur works, i fell in love with it already, thank you for existing!!! 💖💖💖

Hello anon! Thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoyed my other fics :3 Sorry for the very long wait for this one, I've been struggling to find the time/motivation to write lately, but I'm feeling a little better and I figured I'd get to work on some of my prompts. Starting here!!

It ended up a little less domestic and a touch more angsty than I had originally planned, but only for a moment--happy endings all round! 

Warning: this does start off with non-graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting, I hope that doesn't bother you!

Hange had been feeling unwell for days.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence—Hange tended to wake up feeling nauseous some days, most often when she'd neglected to eat a decent meal the evening before—but this was the fourth morning in a row now, that Hange found herself bent over the toilet bowl in the early hours of the morning, heaving up nothing but acid and empty air. 

She retched until her stomach ached. There was nothing left to bring up, but her gut still rolled unpleasantly and there was a telling tremor under her tongue that warned her it might be best to stay in the bathroom a little while longer. She settled heavily against the wall to catch her breath.

It didn't make any sense. For most of the day, Hange felt fine. A little tired, maybe, but that was only to be expected after spending half the night every night on the bathroom floor. Tonight, no doubt, would follow the uncomfortably familiar routine: Hange would dry-heave a little longer, until the queasiness abated enough for Levi to convince her to come back to bed, and then she would toss and turn, too warm beneath the bed clothes, until she could fall into a restless sleep. She'd wake up feeling a little groggy, a little bleary, unreasonably hungry, but after a coffee and some breakfast she would feel well again. Perfectly normal.

Like clockwork, Levi appeared in the doorway just as Hange had flopped herself back over the toilet. She felt his palm, cool and soft, press against the back of her neck. Hange gathered her hair back from her face with both hands, braced her elbows on the toilet bowl, letting out a groan of discomfort as her stomach twisted, threatened to revolt again. Levi's thumb rubbed soothingly against her neck.

Sure enough, she brought up nothing more, but she gagged plenty, and found herself gasping for breath by the time she leaned back against Levi, aching and exhausted. His lips pressed into her damp hair.

Levi was as silent as always. His touch was pleasant, his presence welcome. Hange needed the hand he offered to pull her to her feet, needed his reassuring grip at her hips as she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth out. Her quaking knees felt unstable beneath her. 

He lay facing her after they got into bed. Hange was sprawled out atop the covers, shifting restlessly to find the coolest patches on the bed. Levi watched her for a moment, then said, "This isn't normal."

Hange only grumbled.

"You said you'd book an appointment with the doctor."

Hange grumbled again. Levi ticked his tongue and rolled to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Call tomorrow."

"If I didn't know better," Hange said sluggishly, "I'd say you were worried about me."

He scowled and rolled onto his other side, his back to her now.

"No, just sick of waking up at half four every morning to drag you back to bed."

Hange managed a small, wicked snicker, but shuffled across the space between them and pressed an apologetic kiss to the back of his neck.

"Must be dreadful," she said. Her voice sounded raw, hoarse. She buried her nose into his hair and took a long, deep breath. Levi grunted, but reached back and pulled her arm loosely over his hip. He knotted their fingers together loosely.

"Call them, Hange."

Hange gave his fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"I will."

**

Hange prided herself on being a reasonably intelligent person. She had two degrees, was working towards her doctorate, and already had her name on a small handful of peer-reviewed research papers. She spoke multiple languages, read dissertations for fun, kept a (in Levi’s words) disgustingly realistic human skeleton in a box under the bed for study purposes, and had spent the better part of the last 26 years of her life studying human biology and physiology.  

How she had not predicted that she might be pregnant was almost unfathomable. 

She left the doctors office in a daze with an appointment card and several pamphlets in hand. She had been referred hastily to a midwife and the hospital would soon be sending out a date for an ultrasound—“As soon as possible,” the doctor had said, “since you’re not sure how far along you are.” 

The thing is, Hange had been on the same birth control pill for years now. Forgetful as she may be about many, many things (like eating, and bathing, and washing the dishes and taking out the garbage and and and), Hange was religious in taking that damn pill at the same time every single day. She had never missed it, not even once. Without a regular cycle, Hange had no way of predicting when they had conceived, and the doctor was eager to make sure no essential landmarks in her antenatal care were missed, if they could possibly help it.

The thought had never even crossed her mind. It seemed ridiculous now, in hindsight. The sickness was one thing, but now that she thought about it, there were a whole host of small oddities that Hange could easily attribute to pregnancy. Lethargy, and bloating, heartburn, and she had been peeing more than usual—Hange groaned, and scrubbed her hands over her face. She should have suspected, at least. Should have put the pieces together sooner. 

But, stupid and naive as it may be, she hadn’t thought it possible. Why worry about it, when Hange had taken consistent precautions to avoid it? 

She felt queasy the entire bus ride home. 

It wasn’t that she was against the idea of having children. One day, maybe. When she had finished her doctorate, got herself a steady, well-paid job. When she and Levi had moved out of their tiny, cramped apartment into somewhere bigger, somewhere more suited for a family. 

And god. Levi. 

This was something they’d never really talked about. For his part, Levi never seemed all that interested. He was good with Hange’s nieces and nephews, and Erwin’s son adored him, and he hadn’t showed any express dislike for children, but—well, tolerating other peoples little brats and raising your own are two very different things. 

What if Levi didn’t want the baby? What if he did? Hange wasn’t even sure herself what she wanted to do about the whole situation—what if she didn’t want it? What if, after some reflection, Hange decided now wasn’t a good time? Could they even afford a baby right now? Hange’s money was tied up in her education, while Levi was just making ends meet at the office. They got by well enough with just the two of them, but add in a baby? A whole other person, entirely dependant on them for support? Hange could barely feed and bathe herself, some days, never mind responsibly care for a child. 

By the time the bus pulled up near the house, Hange felt more distressed than ever. Levi, at least, was at work until the evening, so she had a few more hours to herself to mull everything over, but the entire situation made her stomach clench and churn unpleasantly with every new thought. 

The prospect of having a child was terrifying. The prospect of not having this child was nauseating. 

Levi had left the flat in pristine condition when he had left for work, but Hange barely had the energy to feel even a little guilty as she shrugged off her coat and kicked off her shoes, leaving both strewn about the floor. She dumped her bag and made her way sluggishly through to the bedroom. 

Levi had made the bed. The sheet was stretched flat over the mattress, the pillows perfectly fluffed and set against the headboard. Hange’s nightshirt, one of Levi’s old, baggy shirts, too stretched and threadbare for him to wear, had been folded neatly and left on her side of the bed, her slippers lined up smartly with the bed frame. For some reason—hormones, she told herself—her eyes watered, and a lump swelled in her throat. She sniffled pitifully as she stripped off her clothes and pulled on the shirt, clambering into the bed and tugging the sheets until the cocooned around her. 

Hange passed the rest of the day tossing and turning in bed. She tried to nap, but her mind was too restless, occupied with thoughts of the baby, with the concept of having to tell Levi when he came home. She could try to lie, say the doctors had done some blood work, that she was waiting on the results of some test or other, but Levi knew her too well. She could never lie to him, and her despondent state would give her away before she had the chance to say anything. 

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard Levi’s keys in the door. She felt exhausted, head aching with all the thinking, considering, weighing up her options; with running over every possible outcome she could imagine. Keeping the baby, getting rid of the baby, Levi not wanting the baby, Levi leaving over the baby—every scenario she could imagine was worse than the last. There was only one idea that she had hardly dared entertain, in fear of disappointment if things didn’t work out. 

She heard Levi call out for her, but gave no answer. She listened, curled up in a ball on her side, as he shuffled around, no doubt picking up her coat and shoes from where she had abandoned them. And then he made his way towards the bedroom, steps soft on the plush carpet. The bedroom door creaked open. 

“Hange?” 

She made a small, warbled noise under the bedclothes. Levi came to sit on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His hand found the curve of Hange’s hip. 

“How was it?” 

Hange made another noncommittal sound. She wiped her nose and eyes on the sheets, but didn’t dare show her face just yet. She wasn’t ready. She had never prepared for this conversation, never even imagined it before today. It was too soon. Not enough time to rehearse. 

Levi’s hand moved to her back, rubbing lightly up and down her spine, before dropping to the mattress behind her. He leaned over her, and she felt his lips press warm and gentle to the point of her shoulder. A fresh wave of tears poured over the bridge of her nose and down the side of her face. 

She tried to be quiet, but something—the shake of her shoulder, perhaps, or the shudder of air as she tried to take a steadying breath in—gave way to her crying. Levi moved off the bed, but Hange felt his fingers prying lightly at the sheets, pulling them down until he could get a good look at her face. He was kneeling by the bed now, face level with her, and he looked at her with worry pinching deep creases between his brows. 

“Oi, what’d they say?” 

Hange bit the inside of her lip and rubbed her damp cheek on the pillow. If Levi was bothered by her using their bedding as a tissue, he didn’t show it. He simply looked at her, eyes darting over her face, searching. It occurred to Hange then how this must look to him. She had gone to the doctors due to unexplained, violent sickness, and now she is in bed, hours later, still crying about whatever news she had received. 

“I’m fine,” she said. Levi’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his face remained pinched, frowning and concerned. Hange wanted to tell him quickly, simply, like ripping off a plaster, but the words would not come. She opened her mouth, but her throat constricted painfully. 

Eventually, she said, “my bag. There’s some stuff in my bag. Have a look.” 

Levi gave her a somewhat quizzical look, but stood, dropping a quick kiss to her temple before going to fetch the bag, and dipping his hand in to fish out the contents inside. 

Hange watched with her breath held and her stomach clenched as Levi pulled out the handful of leaflets and turned them over, looking at each one in turn. His eyes widened fractionally as comprehension dawned on him. His lips pressed into a thin line. Leaden weight settled in Hange’s gut. She curled into a tighter ball, pressing the bedsheets over her mouth and nose, waiting for him to gather himself enough to say something. 

After a moment, he spoke. 

“That’s all?” 

Huh? “Huh?!” 

Hange disentangled her arms from the sheets and sat up, staring at him. Levi moved to sit on the edge of the bed again, a scowl back on his face, though there was an intriguing flush high on his cheeks as he whacked her lightly on the top of the head with the leaflets. 

“Stupid four-eyes,” he said, exasperated. “Crying like that. I thought you were dying.”  

“I’m pregnant.” Hange said the word slowly, carefully, in case Levi had somehow misunderstood. He had the audacity to look at her like she was stupid.

“I can see that.” 

“And you have nothing more to say about it? That’s all?” 

Levi shrugged a little at her. Aside from the small patches of colour in his cheeks, Levi seemed wholly unfazed by the revelation. 

“It’s just a baby. We can handle a baby.” 

“That doesn’t terrify you?” 

Levi scrutinised her for a moment, before he said, “are you scared?” 

“Yes? Yes! How are you so calm? We can’t afford a baby—we don’t have the time for a baby? Where will they going to sleep? We don’t have a spare room. Can we get time off work to take care of a baby? How will we pay for childcare when we can’t be around?” 

“Hange,” Levi said, putting a stop to her rambling. He watched her with a pinched stare. “Do you not want it?” 

Hange had spent the majority of the day mulling over this same question. Staring a family was a huge, life-changing commitment, something that required  careful forethought and planning. They had not had that luxury. Hange was pregnant now. She had doubts and fears, more than she could ever express, but the idea of simply having a baby—of having this baby—wasn’t upsetting. In the small, brief moments she had allowed herself to imagine a future where she and Levi were parents, where they weren’t wanting for money or time, where things were well, she felt happy. Giddy. The prospect was almost exciting. 

“It’s not that,” Hange said earnestly. “I do—I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I—I do want it. But I just—we had no time to prepare. We have no savings, we have no space, I’m a mess. How are we supposed to take care of a tiny person? Babies are hard work, Levi.”

“You’re already hard work.” 

Hange laughed weakly, and wiped at her face again. Levi pressed a kiss to her raw cheek. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.

Hange leaned into him, sighing quietly. 

“Is this the kind of thing we can just figure out?” 

Levi hummed, shrugging his shoulder. His fingers skimmed up beneath Hange’s shirt, splaying over the small of her back and pulling her closer. 

“Why not? We’ve done a good job bullshitting our way through everything else.”  

Hange laughed lightly and bumped the side of her head against Levi’s.  

“This is different, Levi. This is a person. A tiny little person who is going to need me and you to do everything for them. What if we can’t do it? What if we mess up?” 

“Hange.” Levi pulled back a little and his hands came up to grip either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. I know all that. But if you want the brat, and I want the brat, we’ve got no choice but to get on with it.” 

“I know, I know, but—wait, you want the baby?” 

Levi maintained eye contact with her, but it seemed to take a concentrated effort to do so. The flush of his cheeks deepened a little and his lips quirked at the corners. No doubt to compensate for the show of emotion, he pulled his face into his customary frown. 

“It’s fine,” he said. Hange fought the urge to roll her eyes and caught his hands as he lowered them from her face, pulling them into her lap. 

“Are you saying that because it’s already too late, or do you want to keep it?” 

Levi’s face took on a look of constipated strain. He curled his lip as though in distaste, then hooked a hand around the back of Hange’s neck and pulled her face to his abruptly, smacking a kiss to her lips. He let his forehead settle against hers and stroked his thumb over the hinge of her jaw. 

He fought to keep his tone neutral, but Hange could hear the happy tremor in his voice as he said again, “It’s fine.”

For the first time since hearing the news that day, Hange allowed herself to feel excited. To accept the idea that she and Levi were about to start their own bizarre little family. That Levi was still with her felt incredible enough, but to know that he was pleased—it was more than she could ever have hoped for. Hange gave a wet laugh and kissed him again. 

“Are you allergic to looking happy?” Hange asked as they broke apart. Levi clicked his tongue and pulled back to flick her square between the eyebrows. She laughed a little louder and leaned to wipe her runny nose on his shoulder. Levi muttered under his breath, but didn’t push her away.  

“Okay,” Hange said, after a moment. She sat back and pushed her hair back from her face. “Okay. We’re having a baby, then.” 

Levi’s rubbed the smile from his lips with the back of his hand, nodding. “We’re having a baby.” 

Hange sunk down to flop back over the pillows. Levi looked down at her, head tilted, chewing the inside of his lip. Hange reached up to brush his fringe off his forehead, warmth spilling in her chest when he held her hand close and turned to kiss her palm. 

She smiled a little playfully, and freed a leg from the sheets to dig her toes into his ribs. 

“If I’d known you wanted kids I would have been significantly less stressed, you know.” 

Levi quirked a brow at her. 

“I’ve told you that before.” 

“No, you haven’t.” 

“I have. At your sisters wedding.” 

Hange racked her brain, searching for the conversation. She remembered the occasion, and she remembered that she and Levi had somehow ended up babysitting Hange’s family brood. She remembered Levi, wrestling to keep her youngest nephew on his lap while the eldest, still only five or six at the time, was clambering up the back of his chair, sticky hands tugging at Levi’s collar. Hange fought hard to recall more of what was said, but could remember nothing at all of Levi announcing that he had wanted one of his own. 

“You said these brats aren’t so bad,” Hange said slowly. 

Levi nodded at her. Hange waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, only looked at her like there was nothing more he needed to say. 

“That’s it? That’s your idea of telling me you want kids?” 

“The hell else could I have meant?” 

Hange dug her toe at him again but Levi caught her foot this time, pushing it firmly down onto the mattress. Hange reached for him with both arms instead, curling them around the back of his neck and tugging him down quickly. He toppled over her with a quiet oof, and Hange rolled them quickly, straddling his waist and dropping her weight down onto him. 

“That is the kind of thing you say clearly, Levi! These brats aren’t so bad—you’re ridiculous!” 

Levi wrestled with her arms a little longer before giving up and bringing his hands instead to rest low on her hips. He watched her with a curious expression on his face, something open and soft, and then his eyes roved down to her abdomen and his thumbs brushed inwards, beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking over her lower belly. 

This time, he didn’t fight his smile. 

He reached up and pulled her down by the neck, and kissed her soundly. Hange melted against him, welcomed the press of his tongue between her lips, shuddered pleasantly when he nipped at her bottom lip. She went with him willingly as he rolled them both over, nudging a knee between her legs and settling his weight against her. 

She was spreading her legs to make space for him, when he paused suddenly, and pulled back, leaning over the bed and scooping through the discarded back of leaflets. Hange, winded and dishevelled, watched him incredulously as he flicked through the contents of one, then tossed it aside and opened another. 

“What are you doing?” 

Without looking up, Levi replied, “Checking.” 

“Checking what?” 

“I wanna know if we can still—” he waved a hand between them, and went back to searching. 

“We’ve been—” Hange mimicked his gesture, “—up until now anyway.” 

Levi looked up at her, looking mildly horrified. He held up one his open leaflet and said, “You’ve been drinking alcohol, too. You’re not supposed to do that. And look, here—you’re not supposed to overwork. You’ll have to take on less hours at the university. And you’ll eat. Proper damn meals. Every day.” 

Hange flopped back against the pillows, eyes rolling, watching as Levi picked up each new leaflet in turn, pointing out every little adjustment that Hange would have to make. 

“This one says you should get eight to ten hours sleep per night. Every night. And not so much coffee, the caffeine’s bad for the baby.” 

The baby. It sounded surreal. It sounded ridiculous. Levi shifted to sit against the headboard beside her after opening the chunky little What to Expect While Expecting volume Hange had been handed while leaving the doctors. He seemed thoroughly engrossed, and seemingly unaware when one of his hands reached out to pull Hange’s hair free of its ponytail and sink into her hair. She hummed happily as his nails scraped over her scalp. 

Things were still scary, and Hange was still uncertain about how this whole adventure might turn out. But Levi was still with her, and Levi was happy, and that—

—Well, that was good enough. 

[saturnsummer]

worthy.

When Sol gets a GPA of 2.02, the study group (and Joon Hwi) comes together to cheer her up. 

notes: another prompt by @thenerdywriter ! i wasn't sure if you meant it like this, but i hope you are satisfied! thank you for your prompt and your trust! i do apologise for the wait!

not much fluff or cliche romantic scenes, but just simple things that i hope when you read, remember your worth and never be defeated. you are worthy, loved and deserving to be appreciated. :) inbox always open!

for anyone who have sent prompts and asks, i thank you for your ideas! i have read through all your asks and am so excited to begin writing, but please understand if i can’t reply you as fast as i hoped! so sorry for this, i’ll try to address my inbox faster!! any mistakes or incorrect information will be taken responsible by me. enjoy!

edit: everyone, please don’t cry on this omg I’ve made 5 people comment their tears now and im terribly sorry for the tears.. I meant for this to be a light hearted story but looks like everyone is crying,, I’ll try not to make people cry now..

original prompt: where joon hwi and the rest of the gang shake some sense into her (sol a) about her self-esteem. 

words: 2787 words

Sol is downstairs at the lounge, holding a clear bottle of soju. She takes another swig from the plastic bottle, hoping that the alcohol can numb her heart like it does to her head. It burns, and she’s turning woozy, but she grumbles and takes another swig. 

2.02. She’s passed, at least. But she can’t help but feel upset. She wasn’t upset that she couldn’t score as well as Yeseul or BokGi, but upset that she’s satisfied with these low results. No one is going to hire her, even less offer an internship while looking at her track records. 

Sol worked her ass off for this exam. She nearly died, if it wasn’t for Yeseul’s reminders to eat. Even her cold stoned face roommate bothered to place bottles of water on her desk. Yet, after all this... 

“Why are you still up?” She hears Joon Hwi ask as he takes a seat next to her. She stays silent with a grim expression and turns away. Joon Hwi was the last person she wanted to see, especially when she’s in such a bad mod. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks as he catches her arm just as she’s about to chug her soju. 

“Everything.” She slurs. “You know I’m not even upset with my GPA? I’m upset of being happy with my shitty grades.” Joon Hwi sighs, attempting to grab her bottle away.

“I should have never came to study. I should have never tried to prove myself to be Dan!” She scolds louder. Sol knows she’s drunk in front of her best friend, but she can’t control herself. She doesn’t care. 

“Kang Sol...” Joon Hwi stands up, grabbing her bottle away from her. “You’re drunk. Go back.” 

“I don’t belong here, anyway.” Her slurs catch Joon Hwi in his steps. 

“I never once belonged with any of you. Being with all of you just drags you all further. I should just stop burdening you all with my questions and rot in a corner. Besides, no one would care.” She softly says, her voice filled with regret and guilt. 

Sol has always felt this way. Ever since she was young, Dan was always the star child. She got top grades while Sol got through in the middle rankings. Dan was always more popular, prettier, smarter. Sol learnt at a young age that no matter what, she would always be overshadowed by Dan. 

Thus, she learnt to be quiet. Only ask questions when she really needs to. Stick to familiar people. Only be loud when told to, and blend in in every situation. She learnt to depreciate herself, because no one appreciated her in the first place. 

Joon Hwi wants to shake her. He wants to write an entire dissertation on why Sol belongs to Hankuk. He wants to show her what he sees: a smart, caring, passionate lawyer-to-be. He wants to show her what he sees when she testified for Professor Yang in court. A confident, woman knowing her morals and rights.

“Kang Sol.” Joon Hwi says, pulling her up by her wrist. Sol pushes him away, but her touches are sloppy and weak. Sighing, Joon Hwi knows that it is useless to argue about her grades and her worth when she’s not even half conscious of what she’s doing. 

He grabs her coat lying on the couch, finding her phone and plans on calling Yeseul. But it’s past 1am, but he doesn’t want to trouble Yeseul. Sighing, he contemplates calling her roomie but reality smacks when he realises she’s home. Noticing how Sol is slowly nodding off, giving in to the fatigue, it leaves Joon Hwi not much of an option to carry her back.

Fishing the room key out from her coat, he takes special care in carrying her, sweeping his arm under her knee and lifting her slowly as to not disrupt her from falling asleep. The key card is in between his fingers as he slowly and quietly makes his way up to her dorm. He thanks the deities above that no one caught him or interrupted him. 

Tapping the key card, a standard ‘beep’, he pushes the door with his back, and takes care to get him and her into the dark room. He can barely see anything, especially since he has no hands to on the lights, but he makes out his way in the small room using the moonlight and what he can tell. 

Joon Hwi knows which side Sol sleeps, knowing from her stories that include her rolling from the bed up to the desk. By now, Sol was sleeping soundly, a slight snore escaping her. Gently, he sets her down on her bed and reaches to take her shoes off for her. Hanging up her coat that he placed on top of her whilst he was carrying her, he finally pulled the thick blanket over her.

But he didn’t leave just yet.

“I never once belonged with any of you.”

Sol’s words echoed in his head more than he thought it would. He stopped and bent down silently by her bed side, taking a few moments to wonder to himself just how and why does she feel so unworthy.

He grabs her bottle of water from her bag, before putting it next to her phone, which is on the table. Knelt on the floor, he observes the slow rise of her chest and the way her eyes flutter and nose twitch when Sol sleeps. Just how can someone like Sol think she’s any less than what he sees?

“You belong here in Hankuk. I’ll show you just why.” His whisper barely audible, as he brushes away a stray hair on her face. With that, he takes his leave and sneaks back to his dorm. (Without getting caught)

-----

The next day, after two painkillers and a big bowl of hangover soup (left mysteriously by someone at their pantry), Sol is headed to study group. She is running a few minutes early than their scheduled timing, but she’s surprised to find the group huddled in hushed whispers. 

“What are you all looking at?” Sol asks, as she sets her book at her usual corner opposite Joon Hwi. BokGi lets out a startled yelp and Yebeom clamps his mouth shut. Sol isn’t surprised to see Jiho crowded there, but is even more shocked to see Sol B crowded with them too. If it was anything, Sol B wouldn’t crowd around and discuss things, unless it concerned herself, or benefitted her grades.

“What...” Sol leans over and raises her eyebrows. Yeseul’s eyes dart nervously and she breaks into a smile. The rest of the group just shuffles back to their seats murmuring under their breath.

“Nothing, unnie! They were just discussing on what to order for lunch.” Yeseul says as she walks over to Sol and takes her bag and books from her, before setting it on the table. “Unnie, shall we get coffees?” Yeseul escorts her out of the room before Sol could react. Sol assumes that it’s due to her hangover that Yeseul is suggesting coffee, thus just following and getting a cold brew and assorted drinks for the others. 

When she returns, they distribute the drinks and start discussing on what to study. 

“Noona, do you have anything?” BokGi asks, a little too enthusiastically. Sol is taken aback and lost for words. She usually just follows whatever the rest want, since answering her questions will take hours. Joon Hwi gives a sympathetic smile. 

“How about you share with us about a recent case? Remember the one that Professor Kim liked in particular?” Joon Hwi suggests. Sol grows quiet. Her? The worst student? Sol let’s out an uncertain laugh.

“Ah, me? I rather my roomie shares. She did better than me.” Sol says, then prepares a fresh document for note taking on her laptop.

“I didn’t do well.” Sol B says quietly, her eyes emotionless as usual, leaning back into the chair. “You did the best. Go on.” Sol is stunned and just nods uncertainly. Taking out her case notes and her reports that she submitted, she nervously discusses the topic on hand. She sneaks Joon Hwi a couple of questioning stares but he only pretends to not catch her eyes.

Everyone is enthusiastic, asking questions and when Sol is stumped, they jump in to help her. They suggest ideas and Sol has never felt so energised by their energy before. She find it fishy how Joon Hwi just sits back and she can feel him smiling whenever she makes a point right or figures out a missing link.

An hour later, when they are done expanding on Sol’s case and discussing, they break for a late lunch together.  Yebeom enters the room with bags of food, as usual over ordering. As they pass out containers of jjampong and jjajamyeon, Sol’s eyes light up when she saw the only thing that mattered in the whole order: her beloved pickles, in doubled servings. 

What Sol doesn’t expect is for JiHo to dump his packet of pickles on her container of noodles. 

“JiHo-ah, why...” Sol is dumbfounded for a moment as JiHo opens his pack of noodles to stir. JiHo only pushes up his glasses. 

“You can have them, noona.” Sol is even more dumbfounded. This was the first time JiHo has called her noona. She didn’t care for the honourifics, and JiHo could call her by her full name for all she cared. But hearing those words from Seo JiHo’s mouth, just made her think everyone was utterly suspicious today.

“Okay, everyone is being weird. What is this?” Sol announces, hoping her tone came out fun, with no hints of anger. 

“Nothing! We just know you’ve been feeling stressed, so JiHo decided to give you his share of pickles, right?” BokGi quips up, as he dives into taking the sauce to pour over the tangsuyuk, before Yebeom and him argue over pouring or dipping. 

Sol, still feeling suspicious, breaks her chopsticks just as Joon Hwi picks up a pickle from her plastic saucer to put on her noodles. Her eyes dart from his chopstick to his face, but he just nods at her pickles, expressions hard to read.

Sol crunches on her pickles, but it does nothing to soothe the feeling that everyone was aware of something, but her. 

-----

The rest of the week was a puzzle piece that Sol could not fix together.

She woke up everyday to a new message by Joon Hwi, sometimes sending her funny videos, or a simple “let’s get through this together”. She woke up once to her roomie handing her breakfast and coffee. It just didn’t click in Sol’s head to see the cold Sol B hand her a sandwich and coffee.

Their group chat was undoubtedly noisy, but even more so now. Something in common was how the more chatty ones would ask Sol for advice or chat and strike noisy conversations. She was used to the chaos, but she definitely didn’t feel used to having the attention on her.

As the group had earned different internships from small and large firms, Sol was going to be left in school alone, still applying and hoping for one to come her way. Her study group knew about it, and instead continued to encourage her about it. They avoided talk on their internships, and actively tried to help Sol. While Sol was grateful, she couldn’t help but wish that they would just act normal and not worry about her.

She chose to meet them for breakfast on the day of their internships. The meal was noisy as usual as they ate their sandwiches and gimbaps. They were dressed smartly in their suits with their briefcases. Sol made a fuss over everyone looking smart on their first day.

“Hurry up and eat, you’re going to be late for your internship!” Sol scolded BokGi as he and Yebeom threw comments back and forth. Everyone was off for theirs and ready with their jackets and bags. Walking with them to the door, she couldn’t help but feel like a mom to her kids, sending them to school.

“Noona! Check your table later in the libra-” Yebeom gleefully mused before BokGi clamped his mouth shut and JiHo (with much irritation) smacked his head silently.

“What?” Sol asks, turning to Joon Hwi, who was turning redder by the second. Joon Hwi closes his eyes, the same way he does when he’s embarrassed and looks away from her.

“Listen to Yebeom and check the table.” He says, finally looking at her. “We’ll see you for dinner then.” Waving a quick goodbye, the group walked away from her towards the carpark where they separated to the bus stops or in the direction of the train station.

“O-Okay…” she mutters, still confused as she carries her books and bag to her usual table at the library. She would have went to sulk at Professor Kim’s office for a while, but she instead chose to head straight to study. Professor Kim had enough on her plate and she wasn’t ready just yet to face Professor Kim with her mood.

There, at her table, lies her stack of books.

Normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Huffing out, she slumps her bag on her table, gathering the post its on the bar above the table. Most of them were just plain comments, like how she had to stop slamming her pen into her hand (it distracted students) or move out of the library cause there aren't enough seats. Opening her book on civil code, she was ready to start drilling her head before meeting Professor Kim. 

Then she spots an envelope, hidden between the pages of the book.

Carefully, she picks it out and looks on the cream white paper, the only ink on it her name, written in neat handwriting. She could recognise Joon Hwi’s handwriting anywhere. A slight scoff escapes her lips and several students turn in annoyance. Realising that this was probably not the best place to be in, she grabs her books and bags (and the post its) and leaves the library. She heads to the empty study room, where she knows she’s be comfortable at.

Opening the flap, she slips out numerous slips of paper, varying degrees of length and sizes. Some words were neat, some were a little messy.

-----

To: Unnie <3

Sol-unnie, you know you’re smart, right? Your grades may not show that you are the best, but I know you are! Whenever I hear you discuss a case with the study group, I know you’re trying your best to memorise and improve. Don’t give up, unnie! I will support you till the end!

- Yeseul 

To: Sol-A noona

Yah, noona! You have to stop injuring yourself, okay? You gave us a really big scare the last time when you started nose bleeding in the midst of study group. Noona, don’t look at your grades anymore! If a man like me can get through law school so far pretty well, you can too! Fighting, noona! 

Noona~ you’re really talented. The fact that you scored so well during the criminal law test and managed to spot the comma just shows for amazing you are! Noona, don’t be discouraged... seeing you discouraged makes us sad too. Your favourite dongsaeng is here to help you! 

- BokGi and Yebeom 

To: Kang Sol-A

You can do it. Review your cases before classes. Get your internship.

-JiHo

To: Sol-A

Live up to your name, will you? And sleep on a regular schedule. 

- Roommate

To: Sol

Sunbae, remember me? Stop doubting yourself and trust yourself. You’re smarter than you know and fit for court. I will support you from wherever you are. I’m grateful for you, for supporting me all this time. I think Dan would be proud of you, and so will the cookie Byeol. 

Sol, you are worthy in my eyes. So stop undermining yourself. You belong in Hankuk next to me. You can’t give up now.

-Joon Hwi

-----

Sol lets a smile creep on her face as she lets a small blush rise to her face. Holding her letters to her heart, she closes her eyes, reminding herself of the past week and her friend’s efforts to cheer her on. She knew no doubt it had to be Joon Hwi who convinced everyone there to write for her despite their busy schedule. For even Sol B to help out and bother about her, it warmed her heart to have her support.

Picking her book, she pinned her hair up as she started drill into her book with a new found confidence, fuelled by her friends supporting her. But most importantly, she felt worthy. She felt loved. She felt confident. She was hopeful.

(Everyone thinks she’s worthy in their eyes, but one just thinks she’s perfect.)

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

✏, hotchreid, first kiss 🥺

You don’t just get a blurb honey, you get the whole damn night. I’ll eventually start writing blurbs and not full-length oneshots for these asks, but Cee (my love my family my favorite always) is who got me back into CM in the first place so yours was always going to be the long, fleshed out version. I love you so my dear. 

((P.S. Yes I’m still working on the 200follower asks xD I’m so sorry life got in the way and I discovered hcs but I’m being responsible and finishing all of these now I promise!!!))

Personal plot bunny: Hotch invites Reid over to help with a research paper/with Jack and Reid gets to see his boss all domestic and soft, and in turn Spencer just kind of fits in his home seamlessly and Hotch kisses him as he leaves.

Word Count: 3107

--

It’s a perfectly ordinary day in late November when Hotch opens his apartment door to Reid standing there in the clothes he’d worn to work earlier that day. Satchel over his shoulder, wrapped in jacket and scarf, and giving him a small quirk of a smile in greeting -- still very obviously thrown off kilter that Hotch had invited him over in the first place. 

When Reid said he’d lend him a hand on his most recent research paper, the younger agent had probably expected them to do it at the office. Interviews and research were all a big part of having a Behavioral Science subunit at the FBI, and published papers were a requirement from all BAU members to aid in this endeavor. Every team had to keep a steady output of resources and research studies going just to keep funding for the department afloat. He may be Unit Chief, but Hotch was no exception to these requirements, even with as much work as he has to put in on the regular. 

Usually, he can do his research and piece together papers in between his daily paperwork. But this week Jess is sick with a stomach flu, and Jack hadn’t gotten to spend time with Hotch in what feels like a month. So the easiest solution was obviously to invite Reid to have dinner with them at his home, entertain him while he read over the drafted paper and helped Hotch out. 

Obviously. 

The only reasonable option, really. 

“Thanks for coming, Reid,” Hotch greets back with a softened expression as he looks him up and down. “Did you even go home first?” The very first thing Hotch always does is change out of his suit when he gets home, shedding that armour as best he can to switch mindsets between Agent Hotchner of the FBI, and Aaron Hotchner the ever-stressed-out single dad. That evening donning worn jeans and a heather grey Henley to better accommodate himself within the space. 

“Oh -- no, I didn’t see much point,” Reid shrugs, then motioning to his satchel which is now filled with books that weren’t there when he’d left the bull pen a couple hours before. “I stopped by the law library in Georgetown and found a few more references, just in case you were using the Favero citations instead of Weston and I don’t have all of those read yet -- or I didn’t. I do now. But I still brought them--”

Hotch smiles, a real smile -- small as it is, but no less fond of Reid going out of his way to help him. But before he can thank him again Jack’s socked feet come thundering down the hall behind him. 

“Dr. Spencer! Dr. Spencer! Dr. Spencer!” And he’s slipping past Hotch, smooth and fluid as water, attaching himself to Reid’s legs and waist in a hug with a big smile that looks so much like Aaron’s own. When he’d been younger, only about three or four years old, Jack had been deathly scared of Doctor’s visits. It had been Reid’s idea to have Jack start calling him ‘Dr. Spencer’ to help alleviate some of that fear, associating the moniker with his non-threatening and familiar face. Reid had been much younger then, too, and that had helped the tactic work like a charm. Haley had been over the moon when his reverse psychology worked out so well. 

“Jack! Woah, you got taller!” Reid’s whole demeanor changes. A little more animated, more comfortable, even -- and Hotch could remember a time when Reid hadn’t even wanted to hold a child for fear of the interaction. Now, he was always the first to talk to one if JJ didn’t beat him to it. “How’ve you been?” “Good!” Jack says excitedly, barreling over the small talk in ways only children can. “Dad says you’re going to help him with his homework, can you help me with mine too?!”

Reid smiles even wider and chances a glance at Hotch that he feels in his chest. “You bet, I love helping with homework.”

Jack just scrunches his nose up at him. “Why?”

“Because it’s fun.”

“Homework isn’t fun.”

“Well, maybe you’ve been doing it wrong.” 

“Let’s let Dr. Reid in from the hallway,” Hotch interrupts with a laugh, herding his son and the younger agent inside. “Jack, go get your homework and you can do it at the table,” Hotch says as he takes Reid’s coat and watches him kick off his shoes by the door. Mismatched socks prominent against the hardwood floors. Making himself at home, shedding some of the layers and getting comfortable in the space much like Aaron does every day after work. “Hope you like spaghetti. It won’t be as good as Rossi’s.”

“Who doesn’t love spaghetti,” Spencer grins with a soft laugh. “Rossi’s is almost too fancy for me, anyway.”

“A man of simple tastes,” Hotch teases him.

“I’m easily impressed.”

“Lucky me.” 

It slips out, the low, comfortable banter, and Reid’s eyes are alight and Aaron feels himself smiling enough his dimples show, and he leads the way to the kitchen where dinner is already in the works on the stove. Filling the small condo with the smell of tomato sauce and garlic. 

-

Jack and Reid set up at the kitchen bartop where they can watch Hotch finish cooking and stay within reach of conversation. It doesn’t take long for Hotch to finish making dinner, or for Jack to finish his homework spurred on by Reid’s strange enthusiasm for math problems. With how much time they spend talking about psychology and sociology (and sometimes even philosophy) Hotch always forgets one of Reid’s Ph.D.’s is in mathematics. 

“Numbers just make sense,” he explains, when Hotch brings it up while drizzling olive oil on the drained pasta on the stove. “There’s always a right answer and the rest are wrong. It’s comforting, to an extent, but predictable -- that’s why I shifted focus from sciences to humanities. There’s no right or wrong answers in philosophy, it’s all argumentative. Always evolving. I prefer that, it’s no fun having all the answers.” 

And coming from someone who does always have all the right answers, that must mean something profound to the younger man. One conversation outside the walls of the BAU and Hotch already feels like he understands Reid more than he has in a long time.

--

Dinner runs so smoothly it’s as if Reid is always there for it. Jack even finishes all of his food and helps with the dishes before Hotch has to ask him to. Making the two men exchange a glance and Hotch ask, “You charge by the hour?” and Reid laughs into his water glass in reply. They end up talking a bit about the paper Hotch has been working on, along with about a dozen other things Reid launches into in side tangents -- from the books he’d read during his brief visit to Georgetown that afternoon, to his most recent philosophical debate he had with his doctoral advisor about his thesis paper he’ll have to submit at the end of next month. 

“Do you need time to piece it together? I didn’t know you were that close to your next Ph.D.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Reid waves him off. “I just need a weekend where we are actually in town and not on a case, and I’ll get it finished.” 

“I’ve been working on this paper for the past six months,” Hotch all but balks in disbelief. “How can you write a Ph.D. dissertation in a weekend?”

“Well, I’m not the Unit Chief or a single parent,” Reid points out with a gentle grin, and Hotch feels one pulling at his own lips as well. “But it’s mostly written anyway, just all up here.” He points to his head, and Hotch bets he could recite the paper verbatim with what he writes up when he has the time.

“You could always write it on the jet,” Hotch says. 

“I do,” Reid smirks, and Hotch can’t help but roll his eyes. “In my head, someone is usually taking up the table with a headstart on paperwork.”

“I think they can be talked into relinquishing some table top space,” Hotch says, until Reid gives him a look. “Oh, you mean me?”

“You spread out everything to keep it organized in piles.” 

“I’d share with you.”

“You told Rossi to use the couch last week when he wanted to answer emails,” Reid says with a barely contained laugh.

“Yeah, well, he’s not you,” Hotch admits before he can take it back, and Reid almost answers -- mouth open and everything -- when Jack comes back and is all but begging ‘Dr. Spencer’ to help him with his science fair project he hadn’t even decided on. 

--

The rest of the evening ends up with the three holed up in Hotch’s office, Reid surrounded by Law books and reading material he hasn’t gotten to sift through before, Hotch with his drafted paper printed out for Reid’s ease of access, and Jack with his science textbook and a notebook already talking Reid’s ear off about a science project for the spring. 

But once the time starts to tip into the later hours of the night, Hotch tells Jack to get ready for bed and say goodnight to Dr. Reid. 

“Goodnight, Dr. Spencer. Thanks for your help,” Jack says politely, ingrained in him by his father and Reid smiles a little too bright and soft at the same time at how sweet it is he tries to be good for company.

“You know, Jack, you can just call me Spencer if you’d like,” he says, knowing that the older boy has already outgrown his fear of the doctor and the reverse psychology is no longer needed.

Jack looks a little confused for a moment. “Dad doesn’t.” 

“Well, your dad can, too -- if he wants,” Reid says, looking to Hotch and they share a look he once again can feel in his chest. Watching the whole interaction with a carefully guarded expression, but it melts under Reid’s glance and he isn’t quite sure what is there anymore. But whatever it is, it makes Reid smile softly at him.

“Okay, goodnight Spencer,” Jack interrupts their moment, and hugs Reid around the neck from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. It jostles the younger man, and Hotch smiles wide and ducks his head down to hide it. But Reid hugs Hotch’s son back, and tells him goodnight, as well. “You’ll come back, right?”

“Of course, I’d love to,” Reid tells him, and -- satisfied -- Jack goes off to brush his teeth, leaving the two in a lull of heavy silence. “Sorry, I think I just invited myself over, some time.”

“You’re welcome anytime.” And he means that, knows Reid knows that as he looks at him a little more soundly than before. “Not just for work.” If that needed to be said. 

And if Reid’s face flushes a little darker in the low lighting, Hotch doesn’t mention. No matter how much he can’t seem to look away.

Reid looks over his entire paper while Hotch tucks Jack into bed, and is already making notes on it at his desk when the man returns. The next hour rolls into two, and Hotch drags another chair in from the kitchen so they can share his desk and work through bullet points on the paper but… it was pretty much done, from the start. Even Reid’s edits didn’t take them long. After a while they dissolve into just talking, discussions and anecdotes and sitting maybe a little too close and laughing so much and so loud sometimes they have to quiet themselves so they don’t wake Jack down the hall. 

It’s almost 10:30 by the time they resurface from each other, before Hotch realizes Reid probably needs to go home because they both have to be at work bright and early. But this was… this was the best night he’s had in a long, long time, and he wants to do it again. Soon. More than soon. More than once. He thinks about all of this as he follows Reid to the front door and helps him gather the rest of his things. 

“We should do this again, sometime,” Hotch mentions, hands in his pockets and trying to be more cool about this than he feels.

“I’d like that, I had a lot of fun tonight,” Reid answers, standing up from tying his shoes and giving him that bright, wide smile he doesn’t always feel comfortable enough to allow. It never fails to stall Hotch in his tracks, staring a little too long at his mouth than he should be. 

“What if, next time, it’s just us? And no Jack?” he continues, elaboration just in case Reid doesn’t grasp what he’s asking. Reid is watching him with this look as if he’s unsure he heard correctly, and Hotch is nothing if not patient.

“I’d… I’d be okay with that,” Reid answers, slowly as he weighs some unseen options and gauges Hotch’s facial expressions to the most minute detail.

“Good. How about Saturday?”

He can see the moment it all clicks into place.

“...Are you asking me on a date?” Reid asks, a little winded. 

“If that’s alright with you,” Hotch says with a half smile. Once again sounding more confident than he should in the face of how Reid’s eyes start to dart around and he licks his lips nervously.

“I don’t know how -- how good I am with dates.” There’s a story behind that, and Hotch wants to know it, but he does his best to press Reid gently. Because… he’s been holding off asking the younger man for a long time, now, but after tonight he gets the feeling that he might not have needed to be so hesitant, after all. 

“Oh?”

“Just -- the ritual of it all always throws me off. Dressing up and going out, and making conversation over dinner while trying to eat and maintain the other’s attention, and then keeping it all going if you manage to do that I just don’t always do so well one-on-one and --”

“Reid.” He pauses, then -- “Spencer.” And that stalls his stream of thought to words, catching Spencer’s attention and snagging it in the best way. “...we just did all of that. And it was great.” Hotch knows his own expression has softened around the edges over the course of the night, smiles easier to hold, eyes more expressive, and Spencer takes in every change and nuance with a well-practice eye and is… very obviously stunned by what he finds. “So -- I’d like to do it again. Saturday?” 

Shocked, eyes a little wide, breath lost to the wind, Spencer waits a beat too long to answer. Enough to make Hotch nervous, before he answers in a sound that could have been a whisper if it had been quieter. A slight crack to it that betrays his emotion.

“Okay.” 

Hotch gets a turn to be stunned, because he thought this had been about to take a very different turn. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“--Okay.”

Intelligent men that they were, that was the extent of the conversation, and then Reid is smiling that bright, sunshine laced smile and Hotch is trying to contain his own and -- Reid still needs to go home. So, biting his lip, Reid turns as if to leave -- is just about out the door when he stops and turns back so quick he almost runs into Hotch on the threshold. 

“So… technically, that means this was our first date, then. Right?” he looks so goddamn hopeful, and like he has something further to add, that Hotch smiles outright and this time doesn’t bother hiding it.

“Technically, yes.” He supposes it was. And it really had been… a great night. Not a bad first date, at all.

Reid takes far too long trying to string together words after that. Keeps looking to Hotch then away to gather his thoughts, then back again as if in search of something; and it’s after about the third time that Hotch realizes what he’s getting at. What he’s trying to find a way to ask. 

It hits him so silent and hard it about knocks the wind out of him.

Oh.

He can do that.

Hotch steps closer, about the same time Spencer opens his mouth like he’s finally figured out the right combination of words within the range of the English language to form a coherent sentence, and they all die on his tongue the moment Hotch guides him back with a hand on his hip. He’s done it before, gentle leading when Reid strays the wrong way or needs to be shifted in a crowded room on cases, and this time is just as easy and no different.

Except this time, Hotch isn’t maneuvering them to get past him. This time, he presses Spencer’s spine to the doorframe and leans in to capture his lips with his own. Right there, in the open doorway.

Hotch kisses him, and it’s perfect.

The gentle slide of lips is over before either know it, lasts longer than his racing heart can measure, and before Hotch can decide his next move Spencer tilts in closer and kisses him back, slow and methodical and Hotch feels that. Feels it the way he’s felt every moment they had and shared the whole night. His free hand finds that sharp jaw framed in messy curls getting longer all over again, and Spencer doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands beyond grasp at Hotch’s shirt at his sides and then -- 

Then Hotch pulls back enough that he can nudge his nose against Spencer’s carefully, a punctuation that ends the kiss soft and apologetic. Silently says that’s all they can do tonight. That there’s more, awaiting them, but that… 

That had been one hell of a good first kiss.

“See you in the morning, Spencer.” 

For once, Dr. Spencer Reid is speechless in an entirely new way, and he merely nods with lips still parted and a little darker from the kiss. From kissing him, and Hotch knows he stares more than he should, but that’s been a frequent occurrence lately. It’s just getting harder and harder to turn away, watch Reid -- Spencer -- smile at him in that quiet way only ever directed at him, and then walk away. But he lets it happen, feels every step even as he shuts the door behind him.

Because Hotch will see Spencer tomorrow.

And, one day, maybe he won’t have to watch him walk away at all. 

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

Continuing my dissertation on why Supernatural is about Destiel even when Cas is not in the episode, and here is my analysis of 11x18 - The Chitters.

I initially had this episode on a “never watching again” because the monster grossed me out so much, but then I realized that the writers were giving us a literal Dean/Cas as husbands mirror story by doing this

and hiding it in an episode with the most grotesque MOTW imaginable (seriously, name a worse monster than underground creatures who impregnate humans with their eggs via orgy and leave them in a damn cave; oh and cause them to shake, chitter, and have glowy green eyes.  BRB, puking).

A little trickster moment in the beginning starting this episode with two brothers, and the eldest - Matt - dying in a *shocker* supernatural way, and the youngest - Jesse - then going on to dedicate his life to avenging his brother’s death.  A lot of reviewers consider this intro to mean we are supposed to be looking for Sam/Dean parallels in the following narrative bEcAusE tHAt is WhAT thE boYS wOuLD dO, but I POSIT TO YOU IT IS NOT ONLY A 10000000 percent DESTIEL STORY, BUT ALSO THAT this is established in the very first scene - the conversation between Jesse and Matt in the flashback:

JESSE

It finally happened.

MATT

What? You didn’t get detention this week?

JESSE

Me and Jackie, we kissed.

MATT:

Okay, can I stop hearing about him every two minutes now? “You think he likes me?”, “Jackie looked at me. I-I think he looked at me.”

JESSE

He definitely likes me.

***I mean Matt’s comment -  does this not immediately remind you of Sam “I am in constant Destiel super hell” Winchester?

For reference, here is Sam’s “I am in super hell please stop now” face:

**Also he LOOKED AT HIM?! What is 80% of Destiel if not subtextual pining and LOOKING.  I don’t make the rules.  Jesse is Dean.  And Matt is dead.  Matt’s death ENDS the “brother portion” of this story insofar as the parallel is concerned. (**please note I am not advocating for Sam to die.  the parallel is just NOT about the brother storyline in this episode - there are plenty of other “mirrors” for the brother storyline, but this is NOT one of them).

We cut to the real Dean continuing in FULL RESEARCH MODE ACTIVATED because Amara has Cas at this point and he is panicking.  

Was the red and black flannel an intentional wardrobe choice to mirror Jesse’s jacket?  We will never know. (Yes.  Everything is intentional.  This is Supernatural. We hate it here. Also Cesar is in a KHAKI vest because KHAKI means THINGS in Supernatural for REASONS). 

Also I love FULL RESEARCH MODE ACTIVATED desperately trying to get Cas back Dean.  It’s real “I just started studying for my final the night before at 10 p.m.” energy.  He’s refusing to stop to even look at Sam here:

Anyway, a few gross scenes of green eyed people, orgies, and a hilarious conversation about weed (or was it oregano?- 

Jensen Ackles you slay me) later -

Jesse and Cesar save Dean’s bacon and the four of them end up in a bar chatting over beers.  Here is where it is INCREDIBLY apparent that Jesse is a mirror for Dean (also I’d watch a bottle episode of these four hanging out doing regular every day stuff a la How I Met Your Mother or Friends).  

JESSE

One of them took my brother 27 years ago.

[Sam and Dean look surprised. Sam turns to Dean, and Dean is speechless.

DEAN

[looks to Jesse] I’m sorry to hear that.

JESSE

I’ve been waiting years to come back and have this shot at them. So, I hope you understand, I’m gonna ask you two to take a step back from this one.

DEAN

[nods] Well, catch us up. Where have you guys been?

JESSE

In the woods, where the action is, looking for their burrow and saving your ass.

[Sam is slightly taken aback, but he gives a look of approval. Cesar scoffs.]

JESSE

What?

CESAR

Well, one of the reasons we’ve been holed up in the trees is because Jesse hates the town and everyone in it.

JESSE

Because they’re ignorant and useless. [turns to Cesar] They didn’t believe me 27 years ago, they’re not gonna start now.

CESAR

[sternly] It’s boneheaded not to be following leads in town.

JESSE

Hey, nobody stopping you from talking to the whole box of crackers.

[Cesar sighs and looks away.]

***You could replace “Jesse” with “Dean” and the lines wouldn’t need to change an iota to stay in the character.  Cesar’s scoffing, the stern response, calling Jesse boneheaded, sighing, looking away exasperatedly - 100% Cas energy.  I really don’t make the rules. Cesar isn’t anything like Sam, and he isn’t meant to be.  This is not a brother story.  THIS IS A STORY ABOUT TRUE LOVE DAMMIT.

Dean makes that red herring comment about them bickering just like brothers , then:

Which by the way is EXACTLY how Dean and Cas bicker.  Hence why Sam is always in super hell.  

I can’t find a better quality image of this montage, but I really wanted to bring attention to the EXPRESSION on Dean’s face:

***Sure, Dean. You’re curious about what it’s like to live with a hunter.  Okay. 

Also, whoever made this, you get it.

They start arguing on the next step - questioning a former sheriff, or going back to the woods to search for the creepy crawlies’ hidey hole.

JESSE

[sternly] We need to find the burrow.

CESAR

[patiently] Jess, we’ve been beating around the woods for two days.

JESSE

[stubbornly] That’s where they are. You saw the tracks.

CESAR

I can keep searching on my own. We’re losing.

****sternly-patiently-stubbornly <- it’s like a never-ending Destiel refrain.  Cesar’s willingness to continue on what is purely Jesse’s quest for revenge so Jesse can move on is also so very Cas-adjacent.  I LOVE A SUBTEXTUAL PARALLEL.

Anyway, then they split into twos, pairing Sam with Jesse and Cesar with Dean for the next few scenes.  Lots of reviewers tracked this as a brother-brother (i.e. Sam is paired with the version of himself and Dean is paired with the version of himself) parallel, but THIS scene with Sam, Jesse, and the old sheriff SCREAMS otherwise:

JESSE

[angrily pushed Cochran down the chair] You son of a bitch.

[Sam moves forward to get Jesse back.]

JESSE

You knew the whole time! You knew where they were when everybody was suffering.

COCHRAN

[pushes Jesse off him] I was suffering too!

SAM

[pulls Jesse away from Cochran and tries to calm him down] Jesse. Hey, hey. Hold on. Hold on.

***EXCUSE ME, did he just say DEAN’S CATCHPHRASE.  And how many times has Sam done this exact thing to Dean when he is in a rage?!?   I DO NOT MAKE THE RULES.  

ALSO something about THE JUXTAPOSITION of Cesar and Jesse in the following scene.  This is very Dean with Cas quietly waiting for him to me.

A lot of creepy monster montage scenes and dead bodies later, the day is saved.  Cue adorable husband exchange, and the news that Jesse and Cesar are going to retire.  

SAM

So, uh, what’s freedom look like?

JESSE

Nice little spread in New Mexico. We’ve been paying on it for years. Set foot on it about … twice?

CESAR

Gonna raise horses. And if that goes bust, Jesse used to be an EMT.

JESSE

Oh, so now I’m supporting your ass?

[Cesar chuckles and looks at Jesse lovingly, before both men turns to the Winchesters. Sam follows the laugh.]

CESAR

 It’s time to start living.

Also this SHOULDER touch.  And it’s the left shoulder.  (there is a great Casifer post out there about how Dean was thrown off specifically because Casifer touched his RIGHT shoulder, and Cas always touches his LEFT).  

All I really need now is a FACE CUP, tbh.  

You want more parallels?  Recall that CESAR (aka Cas-adjacent) is the one who saves Dean’s bacon in the beginning.  

Then he helps him get up off the ground. You know, as in he RAISES him from -

(JENSEN YOUR ACTING CHOICES WITH THAT LOOK ON YOUR FACE ILYSM)

Dean, realizing that he is watching an AU version of himself and his boyfriend/future husband:

Yes, hi, we are the same character.

Anyway, I will always and forever love this episode for showing us the ending Dean and Cas deserved (WHAT WAS THE REASONNNN) - settling down on a small ranch together in New Mexico.  At least these two got their happily ever after.

ALSO, MANIFESTING

Maybe then Sam can finally leave super hell.

BONUS:  

Sam: Couldn’t do it, huh?

Dean: [shakes head] No, didn’t feel right.

Sam: Yeah. I know what you mean. Two hunters who make it to the finish line?

Dean: Yeah, you leave that alone.

Saving this to my box of INCONSISTENCY TRASH DUMP FOR 15x20.

P.S. I am starting to develop a theory that the episodes we all like LEAST, and therefore tend to skip [or that have off putting plotlines/ don’t go with the general myth arc/creepy monsters/bizarre or even boring scenarios] are the ones with potentially the most subtext, and therefore the best underlying story line (so likely no Cas in the episode, random stuff like Red Meat, the creepy chitters monster that makes you want to cringe). 

So at the end of the day, the subtext was always the real story anyway.

(OMG I JUST REMEMBERED THAT THE GIRL WEREWOLF IN BLOODLINES WEARS A FUCKING KHAKI TRENCH COAT THE ENTIRE TIME.  AM I GOING TO HAVE TO REWATCH THE ALWAYS SKIPPABLE BLOODLINES NOW?  And that definitely means I am DOOMED to rewatch the worst episode that ever was when I get to season 15.  Dammit.  What have I done?!?!??!?!)

[addictedtostorytelling]

Hi! So this prompted by a thread I’ve recently seen on reddit, a whole thread dedicated to how awful a character Sara is. And this is not unusual, pretty much every discussion board that’s not focused on GSR always bashes Sara. And I just don’t get, she’s one of the best written characters on a tv show! Is it because she doesn’t look/dress/behave like your typical female character on tv? And has an actual depth to her? Oh and my favourite ‘she has no chemistry with Grissom’ sorry, just ranting!

hi, anon!

i’ve got some thoughts on this matter after the “keep reading,” if you’re interested.

___________

ask any fan why they love their favorite fictional character, and they can probably talk your ear off for hours (or even days) about all of the reasons why they do. sometimes it’s because they find them compelling; other times, relatable; still others, attractive, inspiring, uplifting, representational, comforting, intriguing, true-to-life, well-written, well-acted, one-of-a-kind, or even “all of the above.”

of course, ask the same fan why they dislike whatever fictional character they dislike, and your mileage may vary. in some cases, they might offer you a simple, “i dunno. i just don’t.” in others, they might be able to supply you with a full dissertation on all of the reasons why they find that particular character loathsome.

sara sidle has certainly been on both sides of that line, as both the beloved character and the hated.

fans who love her can talk about her ad nauseum and are still finding parts of her character to analyze even now that two full decades have passed since she first appeared on our tv screens.

of course, fans who hate her tend to be equally effusive—she doesn’t usually elicit the “i dunno. i just don’t” kind of response; she more often tends to get the dissertation treatment.

for twenty-one years now, csi fans have either really, really loved her or really, really hated her, with very few lukewarm feelings in-between. 

while in my well-insulated little corner of the internet, it would appear that the lovers outnumber the haters, i’m not sure that such is actually the case in a broader sense among non-gsr shippers and the csi fandom at large.

there are—and have always been—lots of folks who are anti-sara out there, and they tend to be pretty vocal about their sentiments, as your perusal of reddit well-proves.

jorja fox herself has even talked about them.

in an interview with entertainment weekly leading up to the series finale, she explained:

“i think sara is the least-liked character on the show. as much as she has a lot of fans, i think she has more who dislike her. obviously sara had her sights on grissom. he’s our protagonist and all eyes see the lab through grissom, especially through the first nine seasons. so all of sudden there is sara in that vision. but there were fans who wanted gil to hook up with catherine or lady heather. i also think sara is socially awkward and stands by her guns no matter what. that can be grating to people. she never cared that much about being popular. she cared about getting to the truth of things. maybe for my own survival, i tried to see it as a compliment. whether fans loved you or hated you, at least they were emotionally invested or feeling passionate about sara.”

the reasons jorja gives here as to why people are so vehement in their dislike for sara are spot-on.

to elaborate on them somewhat:

some people dislike sara due to shipping preferences.

even on other shows where the “flagship romance” is featured prominently and consistently, complete with clearly identifiable tropes and mainline focus galore, there are always divergent opinions in shipping.

though the majority of the audience is going to root for character a to be with character b since that’s what the narrative has promoted to them, there will always be some who ship character a with character c instead—or characters a, b, and c as an ot3; or character b with character c; or character a with character b AND ALSO character c; or character a with an oc; or character a with anyone BUT character b; etc., etc., etc.

that’s just the nature of shipping, no matter what tv writers intend to either promote or discourage in canon.

—and that’s especially the case with grissom and sara.

while there is still now and has always been a large contingent of gsr fans both among the fandom and more casual viewers, there have also always been many fans who ship both grissom and sara with characters other than each other.

in the case of grissom, his biggest non-sara ships are with catherine (grillows) and heather (kessom), though people also ship him with sofia and slash ship him with warrick, nick, hodges, brass, and even greg.  

that there are so many popular alternatives to gsr out there even though gsr’s courtship spanned the entirety of the show might seem like a curious phenomenon, at least until one considers that even though gsr is the flagship (and really only prominent canon) romance of csi, the narrative doesn’t necessarily frame it as such, which means that there’s still “lots of story real estate” available within the narrative for people to become invested in other grissomcentric ships, particularly as gsr “goes official” so very late in the game.

think about it: 

out of 172 episodes between the pilot and episode 08x07 “goodbye & good luck” (i.e., “the golden era of gsr”), only about twenty episodes have what we might deem a “heavy gsr focus.”

that’s just 12% of the overall show between s1 and mid-s8.

and that’s only if we’re being really generous with our definition of “heavy gsr focus.”

that means that about 152 episodes—or 88% of the first seven and a half seasons of csi—have moderate to no gsr focus.

so just statistically speaking, it’s really easy to “miss” gsr, and especially considering that there are just as many episodes—and sometimes even more—that heavily focus on grissom paired with some other character aside from sara (not necessarily in the romantic sense but just in terms of whom he’s working and sharing screen time with).

for example, there are about twenty-two episodes between s1 and mid-s8 which have a heavy grillows focus. 

—and that’s just going by the numbers.

when you actually get into how gsr is depicted, looking at the substance, you run into a mess of subtext, implication, and innuendo, with very little straightforward storytelling taking place.

seldom does the show come out and say in an unequivocal way, “hey! grissom and sara are madly in love with each other, and despite their hang-ups, they actually do want to be together! and they are good together! they’re each other’s best matches! root for them!”

more often, it hints, whispers, suggests, and even subverts, heaping on layers of ambiguity and leaving viewers with more questions than answers.

for gsr fans, all of this stuff—the slow burn of the relationship; how rarely we’re given insight into its workings; the fact that the majority of the action takes place in-between the lines; the fact that much of grissom and sara’s communication regarding their dynamic is nonverbal; the inherent ambiguity of grissom and sara’s interactions in general; the way that the writers withhold from us key gsr history and access to game-changing gsr events as they happen in real time; how chastely the relationship is depicted on screen; how little screen time it receives on the whole; etc.; etc.—is, while not necessarily preferred, at least tolerated.

we’ve learned to work through and around the obfuscation.

but for a lot of people, the abstruseness is prohibitive, preventing them from either fully recognizing gsr for what it is or liking what they see even if they do recognize it.

for a lot of folks in the first camp, the big gsr reveal at the end of s6 seemingly comes out of nowhere. while some completely miss all of the gsr cues altogether, others may recognize that sara has always had a crush on grissom but fail to notice that he has reciprocated her feelings, particularly past the events of episode 04x12 “butterflied.” 

having not been locked in on gsr throughout its development, they may view other potential relationships as being just as—if not more so—prominent and/or viable than grissom’s relationship with sara.

to them, it may seem as if grissom were being set up to be with someone other than sara, only to have the show change tacks out of nowhere.

consequently, when they’re confronted with gsr in canon, they may feel like the pairing lacks depth, is poorly articulated, is ill-matched, and/or is less desirable than other potential pairings. 

their disappointment in the ship may color their feelings about sara for the worse; in their eyes, they may view her as being “undeserving” of grissom, particularly in comparison to catherine, heather, nick, hodges, or whatever other character(s) they might prefer to see him with instead.

it’s a tale as old as time in fandom: explaining why you favor one pairing over another oftentimes turns into an exercise in listing reasons why you dislike a particular character in the unfavored pairing instead.

for folks in the second camp, they may follow the gsr signposts and recognize the pairing as it’s coming down the pipe but still not be happy about this development, either because they favor another pairing more OR because they feel as if the gsr build-up doesn’t warrant the payout.

of course, some of these folks will be fans of both grissom and sara, neither one of them, or sara more than grissom. but for those who are fans of grissom but not sara, the “sara of it all” when it comes to gsr will often irk them.

for many, sara comes on too strong in the early seasons. they don’t like her “neediness” and view her as pouting when she doesn’t get her way with grissom. they may look at interactions like the one at the end of episode 03x03 “let the seller beware” and say that sara is passive-aggressive and/or demanding. it may be their sense that gsr has been shoehorned in by the writers, even though grissom and sara’s chemistry is (in their views) lacking particularly in comparison to their own favored grissom-ships.

the fact that grissom ends up with sara may foment their dislike of her.

they may not like seeing her “rewarded” with him or him “punished” by being with her. 

regardless of whether they’ve been aware of the gsr story unfolding or not, they may ultimately just like another ship better and feel as if sara is the one thing that stands in the way of grissom + whomever they think would be best for him. looking at her, they may be irritated that she’s the person grissom romances, dates, and eventually marries. they may feel squicked that she’s so much younger than he is. they might have a million reasons why x, y, or z character in their preferred ship is better than sara, in their views; why grissom’s soulmate is somebody else; why they like these other vibes better. they may feel as if grissom is wasted on sara or that all of the chemistry they perceive in their preferred ship is wasted because of her.

the whole thing just might leave a bad taste in their mouths.

that’s just how fandom is a lot of the time—and particularly when dealing with female characters.

you will note that it is far less common for people to dislike grissom or feel as if he is “unworthy” of sara, even in situations where they might ship sara with another character other than grissom, such as greg, nick, catherine, finn, etc. in those cases, they’re more likely to say that while they still like grissom, they just don’t prefer him with sara. their sentiments are typically far less vitriolic.

—but, of course, there are more reasons why people dislike sara than simply that she “gets in the way” of their preferred ships.

another one of the biggest reasons why people dislike sara is her personality.

sara is, as you say, one of the best-written television characters ever*.

* at least during the first several seasons of the show before they fucked her characterization up in the post-grissom era.

but “best-written” doesn’t necessarily translate to “most likable.”

the fact is that sara is a lot™.

she reads exactly the way that she should as someone who was a child genius raised in an abusive household by mentally-ill, alcoholic parents, one of whom killed the other while she was still very young, causing her to be put into foster care, where she remained for many years before eventually being emancipated from the system, having never been subsequently adopted. 

—which is to say that baby girl is a full mess more often than not.

she’s socially awkward as hell; she has attachment issues galore; she alternates between being standoffish and clingy; she frequently says things that make anyone with more than two ounces of self-awareness physically cringe because oof, girl; she fishes for compliments and validation; she’s competitive even when there’s no need to be; she can be self-righteous as all get-out—and did i mention the awkward thing?

she’s exactly the way she should be, her history considered, and we who are sara fans love her just the way she is—every idiosyncratic, rough-edged, raw bit of her.

but the truth is, she isn’t to everyone’s tastes.

not everyone is willing to forgive her overzealousness or moments of smug moral superiority. not everyone can stand to watch her when she’s making an ass of herself arguing at a crime scene or losing her composure over the way a case is shaking out. not everyone likes her sometimes caustic exchanges with her coworkers. not everyone thinks her stubbornness is justified.

she rubs a lot of folks the wrong way, sometimes because they don’t realize what she’s come from (having missed parts of her backstory, told in piecemeal over the seasons, in the same way they may have missed the build-up to gsr) or because even knowing her backstory they still don’t feel as if she should get a pass.

they may compare her to other characters who also have experienced trauma, such as nick, and note that she is much more abrasive than they are—that she is not as warm or open, not as accessible, not as straightforwardly sympathetic, etc.

they might also fail to appreciate her “redeeming qualities,” including her wry wit, her determination, her compassion, her cleverness, the way she pours her whole heart into her cases, her unfailing humanity (despite how horrible her life has been), her patience as a teacher, her kindness as a friend, her loyalty to the team, etc., etc.

in their eyes, she might just be a brat, plain and simple.

there are more than a handful of episodes on the show where sara comes off looking selfish, immature, petty, and/or annoyingly reckless (such as, for example, in episodes 04x08 “after the show” and 04x15 “early rollout”), and particularly for fans who already dislike her and feel protective of grissom, her quickness to skip town and leave him behind in s8 and s9 doesn’t score well in their views. 

some people’s dislike of her is due to misreading or to not having all of the facts—for those who are unaware of the finer points of her backstory, she may just seem like she’s oftentimes “bitchy for no reason”—though of course there are plenty of folks who aren’t keen on her just as a matter of personal taste.

not to harp too much on the sexism angle, but, honestly, sara is one of those characters where, were she male, many of her traits—such as her brashness, tendency toward recklessness (particularly in cases where she shows a blatant disregard for her own safety because she’s pursuing a lead), sullenness, toughness, contrariness, aloofness, etc.—might be viewed much more positively or at least with more allowance.

—which brings us to our next reason why some fans dislike her.         

namely, because she is, as you note, not “traditionally feminine.”

sara isn’t soft.

sara isn’t passive.

sara isn’t always sweet.

sara isn’t always gentle.

sara is—often—abrasive.

sara is—often—aggressive.

sara can be recalcitrant.

impulsive.

proud.

difficult.

in all of these senses, she is not coded as “traditionally feminine”—and in the great, wide world of fandom, that’s reason enough for many people not to like her.

but that’s also not the half of it, because sara also isn’t (as is sometimes the case concerning “strong female characters” primarily written by male writers) coded as a “masculine” character, either.

the fact is, despite not altogether conforming to feminine gender roles, she does have some “traditionally feminine-coded” traits—for example, she can be nurturing (such as when she’s taking care of brenda collins or training greg); she is often openly emotional (a point on which grissom even remarks in episode 02x15 “burden of proof”); she is kind and understanding; she is forgiving; she is devoted, particularly to “her man;” etc., etc.

honestly, she doesn’t fit into one neat and tidy gendered box—and particularly when we consider that even beyond her personality traits, there’s also the matter of how she presents herself.

despite catherine’s assertions to the contrary (see episode 02x09 “and then there were none”), sara does actually pay attention to her appearance and present herself in a traditionally “femme” way. while she doesn’t often show décolletage or wear high heels to work like catherine does, she does don both makeup and jewelry, and she styles her hair. 

her hair is naturally curly, but she frequently straightens it, and, in fact, the only time when we see her leave her hair curly for an extended period (aside from a few episodes here and there in the early seasons) is in s8 when she can’t physically work a straightening iron because her arm is broken.

while she most often wears slacks to work, she isn’t wholesale opposed to skirts and will wear them to court or on special occasions (such as when she attends the gala in episode 11x13 “the two mrs. grissoms”).

so even in terms of her appearance, sara is not wholly one way or another—she’s more “tomboyish” than catherine, yes, but she’s also not entirely “unfeminine” (and certainly no more so than other female characters on the show, such as wendy and sofia).

and i think herein lies the problem with her for some people: she doesn’t adhere to the expected gender tropes, one way or another.

in modern media, there are specific things that audiences look for to know that they’re dealing with a “strong female character” in the story de jour, and while sara ticks some of those boxes, others she doesn’t, and, in fact, in some ways, she even aligns more closely with the tropes associated with the traditional “female love interest” for the show’s male hero (in the sense that grissom often does rescue her either from physical or emotional danger, she does pine after him, she is frequently emotional, etc.).

in some ways, she’s “too femme” to fill the “tough chick” role. in other ways, she’s “too masc” to fill the “girl next door” one.

while there are certainly many fans who appreciate the nuance and contradiction and uniqueness of sara and her gender presentation, not everyone does. some people feel like she tries to play like she’s strong but is actually obnoxiously helpless and weak. other people feel like she’s only allowed to be tough and competent until the narrative needs her to fold (typically in service to allowing grissom to play the hero). there are some folks out there who would just prefer her to be one way or another, to better conform to what they’re used to seeing from a female lead on a primetime show.

—which brings us to our next reason why some folks dislike her.

essentially, because they feel she compares unfavorably to other characters.

csi is an ensemble show, and during the early seasons at least, all of the characters are distinct from one another, each one having their own specific personality, complete with individual quirks, aptitudes, flaws, fancies, etc.

logically, liking one of these distinct characters shouldn’t preclude one from liking another—but fans don’t always engage with source material in a logical way.

the three most common comparisons people make with sara (in my experience) are to catherine, heather, and nick.

in the case of catherine, they do so both because catherine and sara are—during the early seasons of the show—the only two female main characters in the cast (barring sofia, who’s not around for very long) AND because, as they are so incredibly different from each other, the narrative of the show itself does often pit them against each other, thereby inviting further comparison from the fans.

while they’re both intelligent, driven career-women, their worldviews, attitudes, and approaches to their work are wildly divergent—and sometimes even diametrically opposed. for this reason, more than once, they’ve come to loggerheads over various cases.

indeed, for the first several seasons of the show, they don’t even seem to like each other very much. 

that so, holding them up “against each other,” there’s a lot to talk about.

some folks who prefer catherine like to point out the ways in which sara is supposedly inferior to her. 

for example, whereas catherine is socially savvy and politic, sara is socially awkward and a notorious burner-of-bridges, particularly in dealing with the department administration; catherine is usefully street smart whereas sara is academic but so bad with people that this trait can at times be an impediment; catherine is very comfortable with her sexuality and sara less so (which, some folks argue, makes sara less “progressive” than catherine, in terms of representation); catherine is more traditionally feminine (and therefore, per some, a “better example of a strong female character” than sara), while sara is the muddle of blended gendered traits described above (not all of which “play well” in terms of representation); etc., etc.; etc.

though in reality these differences between catherine and sara don’t necessarily make one of them “better” than the other—just different—some people see things in terms of that binary. 

for them, it’s not just that they prefer catherine over sara but that they think that sara is a bad character and catherine a good one.

they love what catherine represents and hate what sara does.

in these cases, a lot of the other reasons for disliking sara described above (i.e., shipping preferences, dislike of sara’s personality, strong opinions about how sara either does or doesn’t fulfill various gender roles, etc.) also come into play.

ditto for when people compare sara to heather.

again, while sara and heather aren’t necessarily total opposites—they’re both geniuses, social pariahs, skilled readers of one gilbert grissom (phd), self-loathing, depressive, stubborn af, principled, single-minded, etc., etc.—for a lot of the fandom, the tendency is to pit them against each other, which is an action that show canon particularly in the later seasons actually somewhat encourages, given its insistence on playing up the supposed “love triangle” between them with grissom.

while comparison between sara and heather just for its own sake is rare, in terms of rating them as potential partners for grissom, people can get downright sharp.

they say heather is grissom’s ideal match because she’s in the driver’s seat with him, whereas sara is a “sad sack” who waits around for him to make the decisions. they like how heather’s relationship with grissom is emphasized within the narrative, as opposed to gsr, which is chronically left understated.

while heather gets far less screen time with grissom than does sara, almost every time heather is on screen at all in csi, she is either directly interacting with grissom or her presence in the episode has something to do with him (such as in episode 11x19 “unleashed,” where though grissom is not physically present, he is name-dropped many times and heather and sara’s whole dynamic revolves around him). heather’s connection to grissom is therefore often “more obvious” than is sara’s and more closely resembles other television romances with which the csi audience might already be familiar than does gsr.

to them, heather is powerful, sensual, intriguing, and challenging in a good way, but sara is floundering, sexless, uninteresting, and challenging in the sense that she’s obnoxious but nothing more.

they would much rather see grissom with a charming and calculating “lady of the night” than with his overeager former student.

they like that heather has “flavor,” whereas sara (by comparison) seems vanilla.

of course, it’s not just against other women and/or in matters of shipping where sara can come off looking unfavorable by comparison.

in the csi suffering olympics, nick and sara are far and away the frontrunners, as in addition to both undergoing some very serious traumas and sustaining life-threatening injuries on the job, they also have both come from difficult childhoods and carry with them scars sustained years before we first meet them.

they’re both trauma survivors, and yet their responses to surviving trauma couldn’t be more different.

particularly at the start of the show—before he becomes more “damaged” after enduring so many work-related traumas over the years—nick is the optimist to sara’s pessimist (or at least “disgruntled realist”). he’s seen bad things but he’s still warm, hopeful, and earnest; sara is more jaded, less open, quicker to despair. he wears his heart on his sleeve while she hides hers away to keep it from being broken. he gives people the benefit of the doubt, whereas she doesn’t trust anyone (except for grissom) as far as she can throw them. he’s a boy scout while she’s a smart mouth.

the list goes on.

again, as has been our theme so far, one characterization isn’t necessarily intrinsically “better” than the other, but some people do still find reason to disparage sara because of how they feel she stacks up—or fails to stack up—to nick.

they look at her and say, “well, she doesn’t have to be the way she is. why is she so difficult when nick isn’t?”

they feel as if she is unjustified in behaving in the ways that she does, given that nick represents a clear alternative.

in their view, nick’s suffering has made him stronger, kinder, more loving, and ultimately sympathetic, but sara’s has just made her bitter. they dislike how she wears her traumas and how incredibly visible they are on her at times.

her messiness is a turnoff to them, particularly in contrast to how functional nick is or at least appears to be (especially in s1-s8).

—and that brings us to the final reason we’ll discuss here as to why folks dislike sara so much:

because she’s not what they’re looking for.

just like in real life, there are some people one simply does not vibe with™, the same is certainly true when it comes to fictional characters.

everyone looks for different touchstones in the media they consume. for some, it’s important to see certain situations, demographics, peoples, and ideas represented. for others, it’s to draw inspiration or be uplifted. for others, it’s to experience catharsis. for others, to be challenged and made productively uncomfortable, to have their horizons broadened.

because sara is a character who so jealously guards her own backstory and who purposefully withholds many of her own motivations from the people around her (including, by extension, csi’s viewing audience), understanding her requires effort. to really get a lot out of her, you have to in some ways study her—and especially if you ship her with grissom and want to understand their relationship.

sara isn’t made for passive consumption.

she’s also not made for those who are squeamish or who can’t stand secondhand embarrassment.

her story—while ultimately inspirational and one of triumph—isn’t “easy viewing.” she undergoes many terrible, ugly experiences, both before and after we meet her. there are many dark periods in her life, and if you invest in her, you will have to go through a lot of tension and suffering at her side, oftentimes for whole seasons on end, experiencing very little in the way of reprieve along the way. 

not until the very last minute of the whole series does she finally achieve lasting happiness. 

before then, it’s a slog, with many ups and many, many more downs.

—and for some people, that’s not something they want in a character.

they’re not interested in having to “read between the lines” in order to understand what’s going on. they want something that’s easier to watch. they want more pleasure and less pain. they want more light and less darkness. they can’t sit through the secondhand embarrassment.

sara sidle, with all of her awkwardness, tragedy, and prominent flaws, may be the exact opposite of what they feel a good character should be. she may do the exact opposite things that they feel a good character should do.

they may think of her as irrational, disjointed, and/or unrealistically rendered.

and if she doesn’t tick any of their boxes, then i suppose it makes sense that they wouldn’t like her—particularly if they feel that most of the other characters on the show (or even just some of them) do.

conclusion

in any case, regardless of the reasons why people dislike sara, you and i both know that she’s a great character. 

she has her flaws, but, honestly, they’re part of the appeal. she’s complex. she isn’t cookie-cutter. she’s dynamic. she’s messy. she’s idiosyncratic. she’s inspiring. sometimes she’s wrong, and sometimes she’s very, very right.  

and her chemistry with grissom? it’s off the charts.

while i can list reasons why people are averse to her and even explain their reasoning somewhat, i have way too much fun enjoying her as a character to really engage with their complaints.

i wouldn’t want her to be any “neater” or more polished than she is because her characterization is so spot-on; to alter it would be untrue to her.

anyway, for as frustrating as it is that after all of these years, there are still so many people who are so ardent in their hate for sara, i do take comfort in the fact that there are also those who are ardent in their love for her, as well.

i’m not sure how the numbers break down—whether there’s ultimately more haters or lovers out there—but i do know that there are still plenty of people analyzing sara, writing stories about her, making art of her, and generally immersing themselves in her story.

baby girl does inspire a lot of love, too.

rambling now.

thanks for sending your message! please feel welcome to send another one any time.

[httpfandxms]

Exploring a New World (1/30)

Pairing: James T. Kirk x Reader

A/N: This is my very first fanfiction writing. I would really appreciate it if you would not plagiarize any of my work! Please give me your thoughts on this. I accept any suggestions or altercations for this series. If I’ve made mistakes or if something doesn’t make sense please let me know.

Important: The reader is Pike’s daughter, but I did NOT specify if they are biologically related or not (step daughter or adopted). I don’t ever intend to specify because I want poc!readers to be comfortable while reading

This series is based off the Star Trek: Alternate Original Series with actual scenes from the films.

You pushed open the doors to the club which allowed you to hear the full extent of the blaring music. You walked in making your way towards the very back looking for your friends.

As you made your way over to your group of friends you asked, “have any of you seen Uhura?” One nodded and pointed towards the bar. She was talking to a man, but with someone between them seemingly trying to ignore their conversation.

You walked through a small crowd, bumped into a few people on your way to Nyota. You placed a hand over her shoulder as you said, “hey, I figured I’d help you bring everything over.”

She smiled and responded, “thank you,” as she gave you a quick yet comforting hug.

“And who might you be, gorgeous,” the man she was speaking with said just before he pushed himself off the counter. He made his way towards you, but stopped once you were inches apart. You smelled the alcohol coming off his breath as he said, “I’m Jim Kirk.”

You glanced up to Jim realized that the man was actually blond and had the most alluring blue eyes. You along with anyone could get lost in those eyes. Your thoughts were interrupted as Nyota said, “she happens to be way out of your league.” She placed a hand on his chest to add some distance between you two.

“Oh, so that makes you in mine,” he teased as he turned to face Nyota.

“Please you are not her type. You seem more the kind to have sex with farm animals,” you scoffed.

“Well, not only,” he joked which resulted in you and Uhura to whole heartedly laugh. He took a step towards you and leaned forward as he whispered into your ear, “you definitely look like my type and I think I might be yours.”

Your eyes met his and you opened you’re mouth, but no words came out. Four officers approached you. The bald man in the middle ask, “this townie isn’t bothering you right?

“Beyond belief,” Nyota said then finished her drink.

“But its nothing we can’t handle,” you added whilst you waved them off.

“You both could handle me. That’s an invitation,” the blond quipped.

The bald officer barked, “hey, you better mind your manners. Do you have any idea who you’re trying to get with?”

“Relax, cupcake. It was a joke,” Kirk said as he patted man’s chest. He turned back towards you.

The man grabbed Kirk, spun him around to face him and snapped, “hey, farm boy. Maybe you can’t count, but there are four of us and one of you.”

“So get some more guys, and then it’ll be an even fight,” Kirk replied then tapped the man’s face.

The officer grabbed Kirk again and punched his across the face. He fell onto the bar groaning.

“Stop it,” Nyota growled.

Before the officer could hit Kirk in the face again, the blond kicked him in the stomach making him fall over a table. Another man came at Kirk, but he blocked his punches. Kirk got the upper hand and knocked the man out.

“That’s enough,” you pleaded.

A different officer came in and hit Kirk in the face making in spin onto Nyota with his hands on her breast. She pushed him off, but you stepped in and punched him in the face to wipe off that cocky smirk.

The men slammed the blond onto a table and beat him with one punch after the other.

“Guys, he’s had enough,” you yelled.

The man punching Kirk finally dropped him once a whistle was heard. Your eyes widened as you turned to the source of the noise only to see your father, Captain Christopher Pike.

“Outside, all of you. Now” he announced.

A chorus of “yes, sir” was heard as everyone made their way out of the bar. Your father saw you and shook his head as you gave him a shy shrug. Nyota wrapped her arm around yours and you walked out together.

~

The two men were sitting around a small table. “You know, I couldn’t believe it when the bartender told me who you are,” Pike chortled.

“Who the hell am I, Captain Pike,” Kirk mocked.

“You father’s son.”

Kirk ignored his statement and announced, “can I get another one,” to the bartender behind him.

“For my dissertation I was assigned to the U.S.S. Kelvin. Something I admired about your dad, he didn’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

Kirk took out the tissues out of nose and grumbled, “sure learned his lesson.”

Pike continued, “well that depends on how you define winning. You’re here, aren’t you? You know that instinct to leap without looking that was his nature too. And in my opinion, it something Starfleet’s lost.”

“Why are you talking to me man,” Kirk shook his head as he laughed.

“Because I looked up your file while you were drooling on the floor. Your aptitude tests are off the charts, so what is it? You like being the only genius-level repeat-offender in the Midwest?”

“Maybe I love it.”

“So your dad dies, you can settle for a less-than-ordinary life. Or do you feel like you were meant for something better? Something special? Enlist in Starfleet.”

“Enlist,” Kirk chuckled in disbelief. “You guys must be way down on your recruiting quarter for the month.”

Pike eyed Kirk for a moment the said, “you know, you remind me of my daughter. Always has a knack for trouble… and stubborn.”

“Then why aren’t you talking to her right now” Kirk answered back

“Because she actually got up and did something for herself. Rather than waste good potential,” Pike retorted. “Starfleet could use you. You can be an officer in four years, you can have your own ship in eight. You understand what the Federation is, don’t you? It’s important. It’s a peacekeeping and humanitarian armada.”

“We done?”

“I’m done,” Pike responded then stood up. “Riverside shipyard. Shuttle for new recruits leaves tomorrow at 0800.” Pike gave a tight-lipped smile then continued, “your father was captain of a starship for twelve minutes. He saved 800 lives, including your mother’s and yours. I dare you to do better.”

~

Kirk arrived on his bike and stopped near you and your father. He tossed his keys to a passing worker after they complimented his ride. He walked to your father and said, “four years? I’ll do it in three.” He then looked at you and beamed, “hello again, beautiful,” then turned around to enter the shuttle.

Your father tilted his head towards you, “you’ve met Kirk,” he asked with a raised brow.

You cringed as you responded, “yes, I did.” After a moment of silence of waiting for his response you chimed, “ok! I’m going to go and take my seat.” Then you went on the tip of your toes as you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a bit!” He slowly nodded making a face as though he was deep in thought.

On your way up the steps to the shuttle your father stammered, “it wasn’t like a date or anything, right?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I punched him” you reassured. He slowly let out a long breath and gave you a thumbs up.

You giggled slightly and turned on your heels and entered the shuttle. You saw Nyota and went towards her, only to notice that there weren’t any seats available beside her. She gave you an apologetic look and mouthed, “sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved her off.

The only visible seats available were near Kirk. You sat beside him though leaving a seat between each other. “How’s your face,” you turned to smile at him. You watched as he opened his mouth only to be interrupted by a female officer and a man who were arguing as they entered the shuttle.

“I told you I don’t need a doctor. I am a doctor,” the man yelled.

“You need to get back to your seat.”

“I had one in the bathroom with no windows.

They kept at it until she said, “sir, for your own safely, sit down, or else I’ll make you sit down!”

That got him to keep quiet and sat down between you and Kirk. The man leaned over to Kirk and stated, “I may throw up on you. I’m choosing you over the beautiful girl beside me.” He motioned to you with his head. You looked down with a small smile as you pretended to not overhear the comment.

“Fair enough, but I think these things are pretty safe,” Kirk remarked.

“Don’t pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in 13 seconds. A solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats. And wait till you’re sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles. See if you’re still so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding. Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence.”

“Well, I hate to break this to you, but Starfleet operates in space,” you chimed in.

“Yeah, well, I got nowhere else to go. The ex wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. All I’ve got left is my bones,” the man said as he took out a flask and took a sip. He offered to Kirk who accepted.

“Jim Kirk,” he introduced himself as he raised the flask then took a sip.

“McCoy. Leonard McCoy,” the man said as Kirk passed it back.

Leonard offered you the flask which you took, “pleasure to meet you Leonard.” You took a sip and placed it into his awaiting hand.

“You going to tell me, us, your name or should we just keep calling you beautiful,” Kirk smiled.

“It’s Pike, Y/n Pike.”

[kpersonkwriter]

Comfort Zone

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Oneshot (College AU, Established relationship AU)

Word Count: 5840

Genre: Smutttttttt, some fluff

Warnings: Smut, temperature play (ice cubes), blindfold play (male receiving)

A/N: Written at 2 in the morning because insomnia is a whole ass bitch. But stay safe lovelies.

 Anyone who knew you well knew that you were an enigma in itself. You were full of oxymorons – both hot and cold, both an extrovert and introvert and both a believer in the sciences and maths yet a believer in religion and the likes of astrology. You were a photography student, preferring to capture a story through the lens rather than be the focus of said lens, yet you were calculated, you always had a plan and thought things through before you did them. You hated parties – or any social interaction to be fair – preferring to coop up in your room with your camera and trusty Netflix selection. So anyone who saw what you were doing that night you met your boyfriend would have thought you were crazy and have told you to get checked out.

For one, you had gone to this party voluntarily, shocking your friends, and had even been the one to suggest going in the first place. You were the one to host pres in your room for your friends – Hwa Young, Ji Hye and Yoon Ah – before the three of you took an Uber to the house where the party was being held. One of your friends – although friends was a stretch – whom you had met on your course was throwing a congratulatory party and had invited you in one of the last lectures of the term that you two shared. You being you, of course hesitated, trying to come up with a socially acceptable excuse rather than “sorry I don’t know you that well to hang out at a party with you” for that seemed a tad rude. However, it was during your last lecture that following week that you had a change of heart and decided to go to the party anyway. Maybe it was because you too were fed up with the dissertation as well or the fact that you recently saw an Instagram post of your ex-boyfriend with his new girlfriend. It caught you off guard since he had been the one to bring up the future, including marriage, yet decided to move on less than a month after he had broken up with you. You scoffed thinking about it, he had been tearful and said that he just didn’t love you anymore and that he had felt sorry for stringing you along. Complete and utter bullshit. The naïve you at the time was distraught yet your dissertation had to be completed and the party to finish it all of seemed to be a worthy distraction, and you supposed, a welcome change than sitting in your dorm room by yourself as the smell of flatmate’s weed seeped through the cracks of your door.

It was two and a half hours into the party when you became tipsy. Ji Hye and Yoon Ah having left with their respective girlfriend and boyfriend, as you stayed with Hwa Young, both of you currently engaged in a beer pong battle with two members of the football team. Hwa Young had asked if you were sure when you suggested this but honestly the sour taste that Instagram post had left you, alongside the overwhelming relief of submitting your dissertation, meant that you wanted to just forget everything. The spectators that had gathered you were hollering and shouting encouragement for you were the last ball with the winner being decided by your next shot. You smirked as you glanced at the two boys opposite you – Taehyung and Hoseok – if you remembered correctly as they wiped their mouths with the backs of their hands of the beer – or Jack Daniels – they had consumed. House rules meant that some cups had beer whist others had a JD with Red Bull instead. You made your shot with the only thing guiding it being hope as you hoped that you’d win. You heard the cheers before you as you were enveloped into a hug by Hwa Young and some other people you didn’t know. The crowd dispersed after the boys took their shots of Bacardi (they said it was their least favourite liquor) as they walked up to you.

“So I guess we owe you celebratory drinks?” Hoseok winked eyeing Hwa Young up and down, gesturing to the drinks station.

“I guess you do.” She giggled slotting his arms in his before turning to look at you. “You coming?”

“Nah, I’ll probably leave in a bit anyway. Go have fun.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. Go!” You lightly pushed her towards Hoseok as they made there way to the alcohol. You sighed, your introverted nature meaning that all the mingling had made you tired as the alcohol lessened its effects on you. You had a right mind to leave when someone handed you a cup in front of you. You eyed it suspiciously as you turned to face the man in front of you. And fuck. He was gorgeous. He was at least a head taller than you yet his body proportion was perfect. His lips were a beautiful glossy red and in all honesty you wanted to kiss him. His chest was broad and judging by your uni sports hoodie that he wore, you gathered he was on a sports team, quite possibly with Taehyung who had mentioned he was in a sports team in passing although you couldn’t remember which. His doe eyes looked at you expectantly for some sort of an answer whilst his raised eyebrows asked you whether or not you were going to take the cup at all.

“What is it?”

“Just water. A thank you drink for crushing Hoseok-hyung and Taehyung-hyung at beer pong.” He grinned.

“If it’s a thank you drink surely it should be some sort of alcohol?”

“Maybe, but you look done with everyone here so thought water would be better.”

“Thanks.”

It was a somewhat awkward conversation but you the more you two talked that night, the more you realised he was so far from the jock stereotype that movies and dramas portrayed. However, He was incredibly shy, fingers fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie, occasionally wiping his presumably sweaty palms on his jeans. It was only after you two moved to a quieter area, taking a seat on the pavement outside, that he made eye contact with you and started to let his personality shine through. You two ended up bonding over photography since he had a strong interest in videography. He had told you that he had been responsible for the Varsity video that year that went viral amongst your university for its impressive videography skills. He was scheduled to play football but was side-lined with an injury so decided to video everything instead. It quickly spread through social media and soon everyone had seen the video, it being projected on the plasma screens in the gym, the café, the shop, the library and the lobby of the lecture centre. As a result, Jung Kook had been somewhat of a celebrity within the football team and of course, almost naturally, the cheerleading squad. You had heard reports, and had witnessed that evening, that he would be approached by multiple girls in clubs yet refused their advances but paid no attention to them since you frankly just didn’t give a shit nor was he in your social circle. You also bonded over the love of dogs and was surprised to learn that you volunteered at the same local dog shelter although you had never ran into each other due to conflicting class schedules and thus free time. You chatted about your latest intake of dogs that had been found as strays in Mexico and how you had hoped that they’d find their adopted homes soon. And it was then, almost two hours later, that he stuttered asked if you wanted to walk two of the dogs together that weekend.

-----------------------

It was now 9 months later after your first date together and even that first date was to much debate between Jungkook and you. He claimed that since he did not label it as a date, your first date was actually two weeks later for a hot chocolate date, both of you disliking coffee for its’ bitterness. However, you claimed it was of course. Either way, you were still together three months later and currently on your way home from work.

Tonight was date night and you were sure Jungkook would have let himself in with the key to your apartment that you gave to him shyly as he left after a late movie night a couple of months ago. Yet you didn’t know what to expect that night. You two had been taken things slow, you being Jungkook’s first “proper” girlfriend and the scar that your ex had left you, and so you two hadn’t had sex yet. Jungkook had sex a couple of times before university, he told you, but they were fuelled by teenage desire and awkwardness that he said, in his own words, that he hadn’t had “proper” sex. However, he wanted you to be comfortable with him in opening up and trusting him before, as well as wanting to get to know you properly. You respected that and didn’t press him after that although you two had kissed but always left it with heavy pants from them instead.

As you stepped into your apartment that you had bought with Hwa Young  after you two graduated (although she was currently on a Italy trip with Hoseok), you were hit with an intoxicating aroma, your stomach grumbling at the smell.

“Jungkook I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!”

“Hey,” You smiled, hugging his waist as the aroma of the pasta sauce hitting your nose. “Jungkook, did you cook?” You asked although the answer was clearly obvious at the image in front of you. Jungkook had a dishcloth thrown over his shoulder with a large red stain – suspiciously like red wine – at the bottom of his shirt with his grey jogging bottoms and barefeet. Ah, the typical Asian.

He turned round to give you a kiss as he noticed you staring and smiled sheepishly. “I spilled a bit and I didn’t bring a spare change of clothes.” And of course his broad chest would never fit in any of your tops.

“I’ve got one of your hoodies that I stole in my room. Pass the shirt so I can get it out.” He tossed it to you and you went to soak the shirt in the stain remover and water and let it soak before you dressed yourself and came out back into the kitchen to hand him your his hoodie. Yet you forgot he would be shirtless. You couldn’t help but linger your eyes over him as you watched him move around the kitchen, stood over the stove and stirring the sauce. He had a large tattoo – a dragon – covering his right shoulder and although this hadn’t necessarily been the first time seeing him shirtless (he loved to walk around shirtless when it was just you two in the apartment), it never ceased to amaze you at how devilishly  and unfairly handsome he could be.

“When will dinner be ready? I’ll set the table.”

“Oh, is 10 minutes ok with you?”

“You’d better be careful Jungkook,” you warned him playfully. “I may never let you leave.”

Dinner was incredible, the pasta being delicious, although you refused seconds due to the simple laws of physics making any additional food in your stuffed stomach being impossible. You watched your boyfriend eat, a big smile painting your face, before he cleaned the plates and putting them in the sink before coming to sit next to you on the sofa, sipping your wine, as you put something on TV.

An hour later into some rom com, Jung Kook spoke. “I want to have sex tonight Y/N.”

Your attention was immediately diverted from the scene on TV as you escaped his arms and turned to face him. “You sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I’m sure Y/N.” He was fidgety again, reminiscent of the time when you first met, as he avoided your gaze. Smiling, you reached to lift his chin so he met your eyes.

“Tell me.”

“Huh?”

“Tell me what you’ve thought about.” You challenged him softly. Jungkook’s face turned a bright shade of red, eyes wanting so much to skirt away again. “Tell me Kook.”

His face turned an even deeper shade of crimson, blush only increasing at the thought of his fantasies about you.

“I’ve urm… thought of you dominating me.”

“Go on.” You smiled, swinging a leg over him to straddle him. You noticed the hiss in a breath of surprise as his hands grabbing her thighs.

“I’ve thought about you teasing me until I beg and you calling me…” He trailed off but a small kiss on neck urged him to carry on. “baby boy.” It was a whisper and you knew why. It was the complete opposite to the classic jock stereotype – manly and loud – yet you supposed Jung Kook was the complete opposite of a jock in many levels.

“Are you sure Kook? I don’t want you to do this and regret it.” Your eyes were almost black with desire and you were seriously testing your every ounce of self – control.

“I’m sure Y/N… I want to do it.”  

“Ok… Safe word is red ok?” You gently kissed him on the lips as you felt him nod with a small “ok” before lifting a hand to cup the side of his face and you could honestly just sit and stare at his perfect face. Jungkook’s eyes slid closed as he leaned into your touch as they opened again as you brushed your thumb back and forth as your boyfriend mirrored your movement on your thighs. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, weaving fingers into his hair, as you started to pepper kisses on the chamber of his neck. You would have missed the quiet moan if it had not be so close to your ear.

“Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

“Take me to the bedroom?” He nodded, lifting you up and taking you to your bedroom. Sitting down on the bed, you continued to straddle him, and moved to kiss him.

Every man had “their” style of kissing which could tell you a lot about the man himself. Sometimes two people simply didn’t click – teeth hit teeth, tongues worked against each other. Some were wetter, others were invaders as the entire length of their tongue whilst others barely penetrated your mouth. Some men were slow, savouring the slow rhythm, whilst others were heated and fast. And of course, some men were pythons, opening their mouths so wide that you feared you were witnessing a black hole. Of course every person had their own preference of kissers, and you? You hated the pythons and wet kissers but liked men who would let you set the pace. Jungkook was the one who let you set the pace.

Kissing Jungkook was a bit like coming home. It was comfortable for his lips were so soft and like silk which cushioned your lips. His lips were, you supposed, like your head hitting the pillow when your body was aching with the flu, it was a relief that you desperately needed. You couldn’t pinpoint “what” he was doing with the way he moved his mouth and tongue except describing it as being exactly right, with his tongue dancing with yours softly and elegantly.

Jungkook groaned as you slipped a hand underneath his hoodie, guiding the offensive item of clothing over his head, as you admired the beauty in front of you. And Jungkook was definitely a thing of beauty. He was unworldly. You ran your fingertips across his pecs that others dreamed about, then his shoulders and down the lines of his arms which he used every football practice and game. The crisp contours of his stomach, the clear definition of his pecs, the incredible construction of his arms all created a beautiful study in human form, each part of his body being the perfect form for the intended function of playing football weekly and having practice twice a week. You intended to study every bit of your boyfriend as you enjoyed his muscles twitch as you skimmed your fingertips across.

You leaned down, still straddling him, as you kissed his neck leaving a trail of hickeys up his neck before pushing yourself up to taste his chest. However, Jungkook seemed to have other ideas.

“Y/N… I want to touch you first.” He placed his hand on your wrists, stopping you. You smiled and settled back in his lap as Jungkook moves his hands to your sides as you hooked your fingers to take off your t-shirt that you had changed into, lifting it clean off your body. You were desperate by now, rocking your hips against Jungkook’s growing erection in his trousers, moans being heard as his hands reached to unhook your bra, pulling it off and throwing if to off to somewhere on the floor.

The moment that he started to explore your breasts and nipples was the moment you realised that your boyfriend was truly good, excellent even, at everything. And that he was truly an oxymoron, like you. The very few jocks that you had been with were sloppy, them presenting a front that they were a sex god when in reality they couldn’t even locate the clit. But Jungkook? He was a natural prodigy. Either that or he had been with more women that he let on, and you trusted his words.

He studied your face for the slightest indication of your pleasure and responded to the slightest movement or sound that you made as he worked your touch on you. He’d barely begun on lightly biting your nipples, having sucked hickeys on the flesh of your breast, and you were already uninhibited at his ministrations.

“What do you want Y/N? I want you to tell me.”

You pressed off his lap before standing, pulling off your panties and dropping them to the floor, before climbing onto Jungkook’s lap.

“Please Y/N. I want to make you feel good.” It was sexy, his desire to make you happy and satisfied, and you smiled as you took his hands, guiding it between your legs, moving it up and down your lips.

“You’re wet.” It was a breathless statement.

“You make me.” You bought his hand up to your lips before sucking on them, maintaining eye contact all the time, and you swore that you saw his eyes turn to black with lust. That seemed to have flicked the switch inside him as he pushed one of his fingers inside you, causing your body to spasm at the feeling and throwing your head back and crying out in pleasure. You matched the pace of his fingers by riding him, breathing becoming heavy.

“Tell me what you want Y/N.” Jungkook whispered, almost breathless at the sight, sound and feeling of you becoming undone at his touch.

“Deeper Kook.” You, the strong, stubborn one in your friendship group that never took no for an answer, had resorted to begging now.

Jungkook listened immediately to what you asked, adding another finger before thrusting deep inside. You yelled as he hit the sweet spot inside you.

“Right there Kook! Don’t stop.” You yelled as he hit the sweet spot. “Add another finger Kook, please.” You just about panted out, changing into a sigh of pleasure as he thrust three fingers into you. He took his other hand and placed it on your clit and started his next assault of ministrations there forcing you to collapse in pleasure on his shoulder for the combination of him rubbing your clit and you riding his fingers was almost overwhelming. Jungkook caught on immediately, not stopping his assault.

“Right there. Right there. Don’t stop Kook. Faster. Harder.” You panted in his ear and it only fuelled Jungkook to go faster and harder, something about you getting closer to your orgasm turning him on immensely.

You couldn’t take anymore of his perfect assault and you hit an earth shattering orgasm, screaming his name, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body spasmed over and over as Jungkook looked at you almost in wonder, as if he questioned if he was really the one to make you feel like that. He felt your muscles contracting around your fingers as you collapsed against his chest, your body eventually relaxing and sagging against him. Pants from both yourself and Jungkook filled the room as you came down from your high and Jungkook as he held you in his arms.

But apparently that wasn’t enough for Jungkook, who resumed his assault with the intensity that had driven you over the edge. It wasn’t long before another orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks as you jerked and contracted on his fingers again with pleasure as Jungkook held you again as you shook again. You immediately felt the loss as Jungkook withdrew his fingers as he held you tight against him, stroking your hair and whispering compliments and ‘are you ok?’s into your ear.

After regaining a sense of yourself and some energy, you moved up to kiss him again as your hands moved down to his waist to his jogging bottoms and hooked your thumbs under the elastic, Jungkook freezing mid-kiss as his breath hitched. You slid his trousers free of his hips and moved to allow you slid them down his legs, throwing them somewhere to the side. Jungkook hissed as his erection was free from his trouser – he went commando since you were the only one home in the apartment – as his eyes were glued to you leaving a trail of kisses down his body.

“Fuck,” you unknowingly muttered looking back up to catch his eyes unable to control your expression of just pure awe. You had seen long cocks, short cocks, thick cocks, thin cocks, pretty ones and ugly ones but this was the most beautiful cock you had ever seen. He was huge and thick, although not unnervingly so.

“I hope that’s a good fuck?”

“You play in the men’s football team and you’ve probably seen all the guy’s cocks. You must know that you’re… impressive.”

“I know that I’m larger than average.”  He said sheepishly as you rolled your eyes at what you deemed as the understatement of the century. “But the girls that I’ve been with said that I hurt them and I… don’t want to hurt you Y/N.” The concern was evident in his features and you smiled as Jungkook’s nature shone through even in times like this. Contrary to the tough guy image as a jock, he would stop and at least pet every stray dog that you met on your walks or would point out beautiful flowers along your walks. He had a gentle soul and it was a stark contrast to the competition driven player he was on the pitch.

“If you take it slow then I’ll be fine and once I adjust it won’t hurt. But first I want to blindfold you if you’re ok with that.”

“I’d love that Y/N.” He broke into a smile as you got up to your chest of drawers, pulling out a tie that you had once worn to a Halloween party a year ago (and had regretted thus leaving an hour into said party).

He was entranced and completely fixated by you as you moved up towards him again, kissing his stomach as they clenched in reaction.

“What’s the safe word Kook?”

“Red.”

“Good.”

“Y/N,” Your name escaped his lips as he sucked in another sharp breath as you pressed a kiss to the head of his now raging cock. It was now an angry red, itching to be inside you as you wrapped the tie around his head, making sure to completely block his eyes. You instructed him to lie down and he did, with his head resting on the pillow, lips parted in anticipation and his cock impossibly hard.

Jungkook forgot to breath momentarily when you placed a hand on his chest, slowly lettings your fingernails rake his chest, drawing light feather circles around his shoulder. To Jungkook however, it was a painfully teasing touch as goose bumps erupted across his skin. You were teasing him with the lightest of touches that sent his nerves on end, as he waited for you to touch the next bit of skin, hypnotising him as no – one had ever touched him like you were currently doing. The next touch on his pecs were so light that it almost tickled with each touch bringing nerve endings to life. Jungkook honestly felt that his pecs were on fire with the perfect feeling of your teasing touch as his body jerked in reaction as his breathing became suddenly ragged as he didn’t know how to handle the sensation that you’d shocked him with.

“Wait here Kook.” You whispered into his ear as an idea struck you, smiling devilishly although he couldn’t see. You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge as you made your way back. When you came back, you took a deep gulp of the water that had been in the fridge for three days as you held the freezing water in your mouth. Once satisfied, you leaned into Jungkook again who immediately smiled at your closeness as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Jungkook let out an audible groan, hands feeling your head as he wrapped his hands around the back of your hair, pulling your more deeply into his mouth. His body involuntarily jerked upwards, his cock hitting the roof of your mouth.

“Shit I’m so sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to do that.” He moved his hands to pull the tie from his eyes as you saw the pain in his eyes. You smiled, hoping to reassure him a little, before grabbing his hands and holding them against his sides. You then smirked as you angled your head forward and slowly ran your tongue down his length from the tip before taking him deep into the back of your throat with no warning.

“Y/N!” Jungkook breathed, hands formed into tight fists.

Jungkook’s entire length didn’t fit into your mouth, since you had a small gag reflex, so you added your hand to the mix and began working his length with your fist and mouth, varying the speed and pressure. You heard Jungkook’s moans and groans and it had been minutes of you sucking him, deepthroating him as well as giving him a hand job and Jungkook’s reaction was almost absent. He didn’t even seem to be on edge and you frowned as you sat back.

“Am I doing something wrong Kook?”

“Of course not.”

“Buy you’re not close to coming?”

“You want me to… cum in your mouth?” It was such an innocent question which reflected his puppy dog expression that he had on his face at that moment in time, minus the hair that stuck to his forehead from the sweat or his flushed cheeks.

“Of course Kook. I want to taste you.” You replied, straight – faced, as if it was the most matter of fact thing.

“I-“ It was cut off as you took him back into your mouth again, smiling around his as you heard and felt Jungkook succumb to the pleasure. Loud moans echoed in the room as you increased your intensity, one hand around the base of his cock and the other cupping his balls, palming and playing with them as you bought him closer and closer to his high. Jungkook was trembling by now and his hands grabbed your hair as he yelled your name as he came, body going rigid as he released in your mouth. You continued to gently suck him as he released more into your mouth, swallowing every bit of him deeply, meeting Jungkook’s eyes. His jaw dropped and you smiled, using a finger to wipe some from the corner of your mouth, Jungkook continuing to stare as his mouth opened then shut as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

You slid back up to his chest and nestled into his side as he held you tight, placing a kiss to your hair as you traced lazy circles with your nails. In all honestly, you were dripping wet from sucking and teasing him, high from the response you’d been given, yet you didn’t want to overwhelm your boyfriend.

“Let me know when you want to continue.” You whispered in his ear.

It couldn’t have been more than 5 minutes before Jungkook said he was ready.

“Thank god.” You blurted out for you were so wet from sucking him.

“Y/N, are you sure you want to do this?” He held you against his sides. You took his hands between your legs to show him how wet you were for him.

“I’m sure Kook.”

“I don’t want to hurt you Y/N.”

“I promise that you won’t hurt me. I’ll take it slow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise Kook.” You kissed him, hoping that you reassured him enough. It seemed to work as you felt tension leave his body as he deepened the kiss.

“I know you want me to fully dominate you but next time. Tonight we’re taking things slow.” You kissed him one last time as you moved to straddle him, as you did earlier, Jungkook groaning as he felt your wetness on his cock.

“Y/N please.” He begged and you took it as a sign to sit on him so that he entered you. You took it slow, his length and girth stretching you completely. The sharp pain of the first inch of him lasted moments longer than it normally took to feel comfortable because he was so big but you waited before taking a few more inches of him. You had tried your best to hide your pain as not to worry Jungkook but it was evidently futile.

“Y/N are you ok?” Jungkook asked in a panic. He tried to pull out of you but you held his hips firmly against you.

“I’m fine Kook. Just need to adjust a bit.” You smiled, stroking his cheek.

“For as long you need.”

It struck you then that he hadn’t taken any pleasure at all, too focused on you instead, as he held your hips so that you didn’t completely take him in. It felt impossibly long for you to fully take him in, adjusting to his big size, but it eventually dissipated as pleasure overtook to be the overwhelming feeling.

“Kook,” you cried as your breath hitched. “Move.”

It was a tentative, small movement at first as you cried his name again and dug your nails into his shoulders. You could tell that he believed that you weren’t in pain anymore when his own eyes clenched shut as he allowed pleasure to hit as you continued to ride him, enjoying Jungkook turning his attention to your breast as he licked, bit and sucked them, causing you to moan loudly.

“Y/N… I’m going to…”

“Then do Kook.”

“Want to be on top when I do.” It was a grunt and you knew that he was doing everything in his power to not coming. He moved so that now he was on top, thrusting in and out of you, revelling the feeling of how you felt. You were everything that he had dreamed about and more, with your hair an imperfect mess, stray strands sticking to the sweat on your forehead. Your lips were slightly swollen from kissing him that night and he could honestly spend the rest of his life just kissing you. Your neck were sure to be peppered with hickeys the next day but he couldn’t care less when it looked so inviting. Your breasts were the same as he moved to massage one of them in his hand whilst holding your nipple in between his teeth and lightly pulling upwards. And the best thing of all in his opinion were your eyes. They lit up talking about photography especially with your master’s degree show and submission of your portfolio coming up, cried at the ending scene from Marley and Me and were currently dark with lust yet still radiated the pure love that you had for him.

“Want you to go harder.”

“It’s been too long… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I promise to tell if you’re hurting me ok?” You urged him down to be able to kiss him again as you started to match his thrusts to let him know that you were ready. Jungkook got the hint as he increased his speed as you urged him on.

“Harder Kook please.” You begged as he pushed stronger and deeper, your moans and begging serving as encouragement. He moved his weight from his forearms to wrapping his hands around your shoulders, holding you and bracing your body as he thrusted harder into you.

You kept begging for more and Jungkook pounded into you with such intensity you hadn’t though possible, you gritting your teeth at the force as his hands were sure to leave imprints on your shoulders as he pulled them as he slammed into you.

“Feels so good Kook. Let go.” He kept thrusting and it eventually became too much for both of you as you came first, walls pulsing around him as you cried his name, panting heavily. It was that image that threw him off the edge as he came impossibly deep inside you, releasing his cum as he slumped on top of you, although being careful that he wouldn’t crush you with his body weight. Heavy panting filled the room as he pressed a small kiss to your shoulder.

“Love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Kook.” You smiled, matching his.

Once you had gained some sense of normality and control, he gently placed you beside him on the bed before coming back shortly after with a glass of water in his hand and a towel from the bathroom.

“Here.” He gave you the water as you gulped down a sip as Jungkook moved to wipe the wetness from your thighs with the towel.

“How did that compare to your imagination?”

“100 times better. Thank you.” He threw the towel to the floor before joining you in the bed, holding you in his arms. He traced lazy circles across your stomach as his built size enveloped you – you loved how little you felt wrapped around him.

“You’re so tiny.” He whispered.

“Can still kick your ass baby boy.” And both you and Jungkook had content smiles painted on your faces as you let sleep take over you. Who knew that stepping outside your comfort zone would let you meet your comfort zone? You guessed that life was weird and funny like that.

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Correspondence, Chapter 02

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary:  An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: Vague mentions of PTSD, spoilers for the Foyet storyline/mentioned character death. Little angsty, maybe a little OOC since Reid and Hotch don’t actually have a boss/subordinate work relationship in this story and I’m adapting that whole-heartedly. But other than that, it’s just grown men acting like dorks and Reid attempting to give parenting advice. Set in season 6, self beta’d.

Word Count: 4535

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link 

--

Chapter 02

--

May 2010

-

Hotch does, indeed, take Dr. Reid up on his offer.

They work on a few more cases together, over the course of six to eight weeks, and each time Dr. Reid proves to be an invaluable asset. His knowledge is unsurpassed, extensive, and astounds Hotch every time he opens a correspondence email from the esteemed professor. 

Have you ever thought about being an FBI agent? He teases one night, when they’d been sending theories back and forth in emails that had become less and less formal. Dr. Reid still sent dissertation-length assessments of the cases when they landed in his niche (which was often), but their replies had turned to a messaging template instead of the business-like format Hotch is used to writing all day every day. Quick, rapid-fire messages replacing the professional grade layout that felt so impersonal, with titles and headers and enough filler to give him chronic headaches.

This was much better. Informal as it was.

I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t pass the physical exams, but thanks for the compliment. Another life, maybe. Dr. Reid answers, and Hotch finds himself smiling and huffing a laugh behind closed lips, the kind that stays caught up in his chest. He’s not sure how much older the professor is, for all he knew he could be bordering on retirement, but it was an amusing thought nonetheless.

 I would get them waved, or curve the scores. I have that kind of pull around here. Never would he speak with his agents or anyone at the Quantico office like this, and it had taken weeks and dozens of emails to get to this point. But the freedom of it was nice, enchanting, like a little taste of his life outside of the office. Just confined to the response box of his email. Despite what everyone (ie: Morgan, Prentiss, Garcia) said about him, he did have a sense of humor. He just also had a sense of propriety, and he was their boss. He wasn’t going to make light with them in the place where they catch murderers.

Don’t tempt me. I have tenure. But Virginia gets so cold, I’d freeze to death half the year. 

Didn’t you attend MIT? What did you do during winter?

Froze to death. Pay attention.

Hotch outright laughs, and then snaps his mouth shut and looks out the open blinds of his office. Everyone has gone home, for the most part, but he doesn’t need JJ or someone else hearing him and coming to check on him. He hasn’t been getting much work done since Dr. Reid started replying to his emails that evening, and the little half smirk on his face is something he doesn’t think he can school as he rereads their conversation over and over. 

Apologies. Next I’m sure you’ll tell me how you had to walk to class uphill both ways in the snow.

No, I took the bus. And Froze. To. Death. I live in sweaters, and I’m from Las Vegas, I’m not meant for the cold. 

Las Vegas? Really?

Born and raised. My mother still lives there. 

Hotch’s eyebrows raise at that, apparently he’s not so old that his mother is still around. His own parents are gone, have been for years, but that’s under different circumstances and really not a situation he likes to reflect on.

Must be nice, only being a few hours from home. Do you go back often?

As little as possible. I should really visit my mother more, but that’s hard for reasons I won’t get into. I do write her, though. A letter every day, although not much happens around here for her to get invested in.

As in a real letter? Not an email, or a phone call?

She doesn’t do well with phone calls, or computers. Letters are more personal, anyway, and she likes being able to have the paper in her hands in my own handwriting. It’s the least I can do, not going home unless I absolutely have to. 

This is the most the man has ever spoken about himself, in a personal manner instead of an academic one, and Hotch isn’t quite sure how to take the evolution. It feels like a shift in their dynamic, an opening that could lead to a deeper level of friendship and -- it’s been a while since he’s had that. Allowed himself to have that. After Foyet, and even before when Haley started pushing for divorce and Hotch responded by isolating himself as much as he could to keep his work unaffected, he’d had trust issues. Hotch is man enough to admit that. 

But speaking with an old professor on the other side of the country might just be the stepping stone he needs. Who knows, maybe they’d even get the chance to meet one day.

I just grimaced at my own triteness. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give you such a maudlin review of my life story.

No, that’s okay. I don’t talk much about myself, so I wasn’t sure how to respond. Work and home are kept very separate for me. It’s an unhealthy coping mechanism, I know, but it works as best as it can.

In your line of work, I can only imagine. You do what you have to. 

Hotch pauses in their conversation, looks at the clock and the stack of paperwork he still hasn’t finished -- too busy lost in his talk with Dr. Reid -- and feels an itching in the back of his mind he wants so desperately to scratch at. To give into. Lists of things he knows he should talk about, but doesn’t trust anyone enough to do so. Hotch really isn’t sure he can even trust Dr. Reid with them.

At least, not yet.

Thank you. And thank you for entertaining me, as well. 

Anytime.

--

It’s not a month later that Hotch is sitting at his desk, after hours, once again. Head in his hands and his phone still warm, overworked from the hour-long phone call he’d just endured with his ex-sister-in-law, Jessica. 

Jack was being bullied in school. She’d had to attend the parent-teacher conference about it instead of him, because he’d been on a case in Florida for over two weeks. Which really just highlighted to Jack’s teacher what his home life is like and she expressed her worry. Adamantly. Jessica was in agreement, and she once again wanted to have the conversation on if Hotch returning to work at the BAU had been the right choice after Haley was killed. He’d taken his sabbatical for 30 days, passed his psych evals -- which didn’t mean much, he helped write the qualification questions -- and Jack was doing well with his therapist and in school.

Or so he’d thought. Until today. 

That ‘conversation’ turned into an argument, because Hotch gets defensive when someone questions his choices in regards to his family, and as much as he knows that she is right -- he feels awful about how it devolved. Jessica has gone above and beyond in taking care of Jack, to allow Hotch to return to work, and she is the last person that deserves the brunt of his frustration. He only has himself to blame, and he doesn’t know what to do. Who to turn to. Who might have answers for him, if there even was a correct answer for his situation. 

The Foyet case is classified. His assigned therapist is so easily played he hasn’t returned to her in months. 

Hotch just wants someone who won’t see through him, even when he pushes back.

He wants to talk to someone who he doesn’t want to push back against.

Who he trusts.

Dr. Reid, I need help with something no one seems to have an answer for, but it’s of a personal matter and not a professional one. Would you mind lending me your services?

Hotch sends the email before he can take it back. It’s late in Virginia, but Dr. Reid is four hours behind him in California and there’s a high chance he might still be in his office. He seems to keep longer hours, for an old professor. 

He won’t admit it to himself, but he feels a tightness in his chest as he awaits an answer. All the paperwork from the Florida case is completed, there’s nothing keeping him there at the office any longer. But it’s too late to go pick up Jack from Jessica’s, and he doesn’t think he would be welcome to come sleep on her couch like he often does on nights like this. When he wants to be there when Jack wakes up, and tonight he longs to do just that. But he isn’t sure he can even look Jessica in the eye right now.

So he sits there, and watches his computer screen, and feels himself distance from the ache in his bones. Knowing if Dr. Reid doesn’t answer him, he would have to spend however long it would take to compartmentalize his apprehension, once again, and go home to his empty house and not think about how he is failing in raising his son. In being a good father. 

The soft ping of his inbox is his single solace in the storm of his thoughts.

Agent Hotchner, You know I’m always happy to help, in any way -- personal or professional -- if I can. What is it you need an answer to?

That tightness releases, but it also gives way to the worry building up in his chest. An overwhelming, crushing amount of it that he didn’t realize was climbing higher and higher the longer he’d been left alone with his thoughts. Drowning in trepidation. Everything he doesn’t want to have pressing on his mind when they are hunting down serial killers, working with criminals that would see it as a weakness and exploit it without batting an eye. 

But this time, Hotch knows this is becoming something he shouldn’t try to hide away. 

Child psychology. Trauma, in particular, and the effects on children after the fact. 

It’s enough to describe what he needs answered, without telling too much of what happened. It’s still hard for Hotch to think about what happened, to fully realize what they had gone through. What had happened to Haley, what had happened to him. What Jack will have to grow up knowing nearly happened to him. What he almost witnessed.

(626)-595-0387 I have unlimited texting, and tend to stay up very late at night. Also, I have a feeling that you might want to keep this off government regulated emails. I’m not a practicing psychiatrist, mind you, but anything I can do to help you I will be more than happy to offer. 

Hotch is stunned. Whatever he expected, that wasn’t it. He’s near speechless, staring at the phone number with a Pasadena area code, and hesitates in moving their correspondence off of the email platform. A drastic change in dynamic and expectations, but… it would be nice, to be able to message the professor whenever he wanted. The ease of access an alluring thought. 

Another soft ping in his inbox has him looking up from where he’d been glancing at his cell phone in contemplation.

Also, it goes without saying, but everything we talk about in our conversations would still be confidential. I have no one to tell them to, anyway. 

Hotch huffs out a sound that could have been a laugh, and he’s surprised he even can manage that. But he’s barely thinking about it before he’s picking up his cell phone and typing in the number Dr. Reid had given him. []6/3, 22:46[] This is Agent Hotchner.

He sends it, pauses in thought, then keeps typing.

[]6/3, 22:47[] You can call me Hotch, since this is outside work. Agent Hotchner just reminds me I’m abusing bureau resources for personal gain.

The whole interaction is causing this clawing, hot feeling in his chest that might be nervousness in risking the change in their work relationship, or residual guilt from the fight with Jessica about Jack, or just… the fear that Dr. Reid will tell him he is fucking this up and he should never have returned to the FBI at all. Because there are days, like today, where Hotch really starts to think that might be the case.

[]6/3, 22:49[] I figured as much. No one else actually messages me after 6pm except you and some of my more zealous students. 

[]6/3, 22:51[] And although I don’t think you’re abusing anything; in that same vein, you can call me Spencer. This is just two friends having a chat, nothing more. 

Hotch appreciates the gesture, finds himself almost smiling about it -- but then he remembers what he has to relay to ask what he wants to ask the other man. And he isn’t sure where to begin. 

So he just -- begins at the start. The case where Foyet fooled his whole team, posing as a victim, and managing to get away. Slipped through their fingers. Gotten away with murder and insider FBI information and more than he should have ever been able to access. Dr. Reid -- Spencer, please -- doesn’t say anything as he relates all of this, and Hotch commends his patience. Because from the start, this isn’t about child psychology at all. But it is certainly about trauma, and that becomes apparent when Hotch throws caution to the wind and describes what happened to him in his own apartment. Paraphrasing and dropping out intimate details, but explaining what happened is still brutal even stripped to its bare minimum. When Foyet had broken in, and blitzed him, and tortured him as he stabbed him nine times in the chest. Precise, practiced, indicative of letting him live with the knowledge of what that monster masquerading as a man could do. 

The details begin to bleed through the more he types. The more he remembers.

How he’d had to put his ex-wife and son into protective custody. How it hadn’t been enough. His late night obsessions all for naught. And finally, a brief -- or as brief as it can possibly be, for as brutal an event as it was -- summary of what happened when Foyet had found his family. How he had killed Haley, how they had stopped Foyet and Jack had been spared witnessing anything. Even the fight inside Hotch’s own house. He doesn’t… well, Hotch doesn’t plan on describing that and keeps it at bay. He barely remembers it. Blurs of fists and broken furniture and rooms he has memorized from years of memories flying by as they tore through his home like a hurricane. 

But he gives enough of a picture. Enough that, though he doesn’t say as much, Spencer probably knows Foyet didn’t make it out alive. Can guess it was by Hotch’s own hands. 

Which leads them to now -- to the part Hotch needed help with more than anything. His past and his trauma Hotch has a lot of practice dealing with, knows how to handle it alone. As he always has. But the part he doesn’t know how to handle?

He is raising his son on his own. His ex-sister-in-law, Jessica, has been a godsend and is helping with Jack so Hotch can be at work. His lifeblood. His identity. Everything he’s ever worked for. He almost left; Strauss had offered him an early retirement package that was too good to pass up, but he had in the end. Because being an FBI agent, catching the monsters that plague their world, that is what he does. And that’s what Jack knows him to do. 

It helps Jack, Hotch found, to know that his dad is out there catching men like the one that took away his mom. He probably would have taken the loss a lot worse, if Aaron had left the bureau. 

But he’s messing up. Hotch feels that in his bones. He’s gone so much, Jessica is taking on the role of parent instead of Aunt more and more, and Hotch does not want to turn into that father that shows up once in a blue moon and pretends he never left. He’s worried that what Jack’s teacher, and Jessica, had said is true and Jack’s home life isn’t going to be healthy for him. It’s going to make him suffer.

That what Jack has gone through, Hotch doesn’t know how to address correctly. 

It’s near a half hour later that he’s gotten the entire story out, and Hotch realizes that even though text is probably going to be easier to have a conversation like this… he probably could have written it in an email and saved them both some time. He apologizes at the error, because it’s late and his head isn’t quite screwed on straight whenever it comes to matters with his son, and he just… he’s at a loss. Doesn’t know what the right course of action is, or if there even is one outside of a professional’s opinion. 

Then Hotch waits for a reply.

It feels like hours, but in reality is only a couple of minutes. 

[]6/3, 23:22[] Hotch, the fact you are so worried about your son and how your actions have affected him through all of this, is all I really need to know about you being a good father. The consideration you are showing him is not something every parent can do, in the face of what happened to you and your family. You do not need to worry about that. You love your son, and that is the most important factor right now.

[]6/3, 23:25[] Secondly, I’m so sorry that this happened to you at all. You and your son sound like you have such a strong bond, and I know that’s what must have helped you through such a difficult time. It’s apparent that you love him very, very much. 

[]6/3, 23:29[] I don’t have a lot of friends that ask me the hard questions like this. Not that I don’t want them to, I just understand why, because I can recite statistics all day and give you textbook answers easily. Which I know you were hoping would give you a black and white response to your question. But in this there isn’t one, sadly. I know you are worried and I feel like you don’t need to be. And I don’t know how to express that in a way that won’t make you detest me. 

[]6/3, 23:32[] Your son just lost his mom, and you just lost your ex-wife, and there’s not going to be a straightforward path to healing. Everything you say you have done for him? It’s perfect, it’s exactly what you should be doing, and don’t stop. That’s all you can do and all you should focus on, in truth. Listen to what he tells you and watch for what he doesn’t, and hug him, because you are a great dad -- and this is coming from someone who did not have such an example. 

[]6/3, 23:33[] And I am very sorry about Haley, Hotch. I truly am. 

Hotch doesn’t even answer him for a good few minutes. It is a lot to process, to read through, and he does read through it more than once. But every single time he reads that final text, his eyes sting hotly and he has to blink back emotions he thought he had waded through plenty on his 30 days of leave. Apparently, not enough.

It’s so much, and yet he wants more. It’s not enough in the sense that he wishes Dr. Reid -- Spencer -- would keep talking to him. Keep telling him he’s doing a good job. That he hasn’t failed his son. 

That for once, he’s handling something right.

With a breath that feels like it shudders through his chest a little more roughly than it should, Hotch slowly types out a response that doesn’t even begin to feel anything close to adequate.

[]6/3, 23:41[] Thank you, Spencer. I could never detest you, in the slightest. Everyone keeps telling me I’m not screwing this up, but 

He pauses, not sure if he even believes what he’s about to type. 

At the last second, he switches tactics entirely. Feels a flood gate open. Just one, solitary floodgate in the vast Hoover Dam size wall he keeps up from the moment he shrugs into his suit jacket at home until he sheds it all away at the end of the night. In the confines of his home, with six physical locks on the door and two different digital security systems. With a weapon carefully concealed and childproofed in every room. With steel reinforced windows and no exit save for the front and back doors. A fire hazard, but a good precaution against anyone who would try to break in -- like Foyet had. 

[]6/3, 23:41[] ...I find it so hard to believe them. In some ways it’s hard to believe you, too, but that’s not personal. Your words have resonated more than anyone else’s, if that’s any consolation. Even more than the therapist they assigned after everything. 

[]6/3, 23:45[] My sister-in-law flat out told me I was failing my son, being away like I am, and his teacher believes his home environment isn’t healthy. He’s being bullied in school. I don’t know what to do.

Hotch types it all out and sends it. 

The reply is instantaneous.

[]6/3, 23:46[] Yes, you do. You know exactly what to do. 

And then there isn’t any further elaboration.

At first, Hotch is confused. He feels himself being pulled from that precipice of self-loathing and despair. Tugged by a string. The confusion forces him to look at Spencer’s response, nine words long, and decipher what they mean. 

Trusting his first instinct, once more.

[]6/3, 23:49[] I have to talk to Jack. 

[]6/3, 23:54[] You have heard all of this from everyone other than your son. He may be young, but he is going to know the answer better than his teacher or his aunt. Talk to him, before you start nailing yourself to a cross. You may find the answer to the situation a much easier fix than you are anticipating.

Hotch considers this, thinking about his son. Six-years-old now, first grade, smart as a tack, curious and kind. But so strong, a foundation that even he found himself clinging to sometimes, in the face of the storm of everything that had happened to them. Which is not healthy, and Hotch learned to not do that to him. To instead find solidarity in their relationship, withstanding the storm together. As they always have. 

[]6/3, 23:57[] He’s not one to let a bully have his way. He knows that’s not right. Maybe he has another strategy.

[]6/4, 00:01[] He’s young enough that trying to befriend his abuser would be a good tactic to counter the situation, does that seem like something he would do?

[]6/4, 00:02[] That sounds exactly like Jack. Hotch replies, with a smile finally easing on to his face -- and it feels lighter now. Easier to hold.

[]6/4, 00:04[] He sounds like a sweet kid.

[]6/4, 00:05[] He is. I’m very proud of him.

[]6/4, 00:07[] You really are a great dad, Hotch. I’m not just saying it to say it. 

That crushing, overwhelming feeling has ebbed to nearly nothing -- and with a sudden rush of vertigo it is replaced with gratitude for the old professor lending him his evening hours. It flashes warm and sudden and Hotch isn’t used to that, either. 

[]6/4, 00:08[] I would never expect you to, but thank you.

Even he feels lame for thanking the man for saying such a thing.

[]6/4, 00:10[] You don’t need to thank me, I barely did anything.

[]6/4, 00:11[] But if you ever need to talk, about anything really, I’d be more than happy to do so. 

[]6/4, 00:13[] I promise I can be good at that. The listening part. Day or night, it really doesn’t matter. I’ll always be around.

Hotch pauses at the offer, and then types slow and hesitant.

[]6/4, 00:16[] What if I just want to check in on a friend?

[]6/4, 00:16[] I am also around for that. 

The answer is sudden, without hesitation, and Hotch feels a smile start to ease the muscles in his face. Soften the edges once more.

[]6/4, 00:18[] I wouldn’t mind someone to talk to after a long day. It’s been a while since I’ve had a…

He pauses again, not quite sure if he remembers how to do this without pressing in too fast. Committing to too much, not sure what he is able to give of himself. But he’s already shared more with Dr. Reid in two months than he has with David in the past two years. 

Hotch makes a decision, for himself, for the first time in a long time.

[]6/4, 00:18[] ...It’s been a while since I’ve had a friend outside of the bureau. 

[]6/4, 00:19[] Do I still count if I’m a consultant?

[]6/4, 00:19[] You absolutely count. 

His own message makes him smile, and there’s a beat between messages where he hopes he made the older man smile as well. 

[]6/4, 00:22[] I’m never short on topics of conversation, I warn you. So unless you want a lecture on quantum physics -- how do you feel about chess?

[]6/4, 00:24[] I’m getting the feeling you’ll wipe the floor with me.

[]6/4, 00:25[] Oh, without a doubt. But the desktop app also has a chat feature.

[]6/4, 00:26[] Look at you, all modern and with the times.

[]6/4, 00:28[] My home phone may be a rotary, but even I can’t scoff at the vast reach of online chess. 

[]6/4, 00:28[] So what say you?

Hotch pauses, one final time, and considers the night; the conversation, Spencer’s advice, the way talking about what had happened helped ease the weight of it more than he’d ever anticipated. Then he thinks of the source, of what started it all, and how -- once again -- Dr. Reid was right about a number of things. But one thing in particular. 

[]6/4, 00:32[] I’m going to take your advice and go to my son. But tomorrow night, after he’s in bed, I have many hours to myself.

[]6/4, 00:35[] By no coincidence whatsoever, my evenings are always free. Care to show off those FBI honed deduction skills? My best chess opponents have ironically been FBI agents.

[]6/4, 00:36[] Oh, I’m terrible. Trust me.

[]6/4, 00:37[] I promise I don’t care. Your company is worth however many short games we can endure. 

Hotch smiles, despite himself, and this time doesn’t try to hold it back.

[]6/4, 00:39[] Then, it’s a date.

-

(tbc...)

-

Tagged list: @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom​ @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat​​​ @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @merpancake

[narkito]

Mcdanno, #39. Long distance relationship??

Thank you for giving me a prompt!! :D

This story takes place in the “Chosen” universe, but you needn’t have read that to understand this little piece. Hope that’s okay

–

Steve scrambles for the phone, jumping over the coffee table and almost landing on one of Charlie’s Lego structures.

“Yes, hello,” he pants into the receiver, as he plops down into the couch, his leg already sore from the exertion. “Hello?”

The line crackles, followed by, “hey, babe.”

Steve sits up, never minding his cramping leg. “Danno! How are you?”

“Better now that I’ve got a hold of you.”

“Awww, you really think that sounds romantic, don’t you? I pity your game.”

“Oi, I have ten minutes to use the phone, you sure you want to use it up insulting me?”

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, kinky, but, how about not.” Steve pouts in response, and Danny continues, “tell me, how are you? How are things? The leg? The kids? My parents? Did Nahele find his lucky socks, did we bring them from Hawaii? How about—

Steve blinks, adjusting to the change of pace. This is not how he envisioned a long-distance relationship with Danny.

“Okay, hold your horses there, more conversation, less interrogation, okay? The kids are fine, or as fine as they can be, your parents are lovely as usual, and absolutely delighted to have the kids around.”

Danny snorts (and it does not sound pretty over the phone).

“You’ve been dumping them with my Ma every week, huh?”

Steve takes a beat before answering, “dumping sounds harsh, it’s more like…”

“Sorry, giving them the opportunity to enjoy the kids on a semi-regular basis.”

“Yeah,” he nods to himself, “much more dignified, that works.”

Danny snorts again. Steve can almost see him shaking his head.

“But in all seriousness, Steve, how’s the leg?”

“It’s fine, Danno, much better than last time we saw each other. I’ve been doing PT and everything.” Steve strokes his thigh as he talks, remembering how it used to be less than a year ago. “Today I walked all the way from the kids’ school to your parents’ house.” Steve wiggles his eyebrows satisfied with his accomplishment.

“Oh, wow, that’s actually a lot more than I expected,” Danny says, a huge smile in his voice. “Congrats for you.”

“Thank you.” Steve answers, satisfied smile of his own dangling from his lips. “So, uhm, how’s your thing going, you adjusting to training well?”

“Uuuuh, yeah, people are, you know, a bunch of average joes for the most part, and a good part of them wash out in the first week, so I’m holding my ground, comparatively I’m okay.”

Oh, that’s code speak for I hate it, Steven, I hate it so much.

“Does that mean you’re objectively a klutz and your drill sergeant hates you?”

“Ha-ha, very funny. Naah, I’m fine, I’m five-oh, we know how to keep it cool and interesting, you know?”

“Riiiight, you bored out of your mind yet?”

“Maybe.” Steve can sense the way Danny shrugs only one shoulder and finds it endearing.

Next to the telephone, there’s a whole wall of salvaged pictures in mismatched frames. There’s a handful of people there he’ll never get to see again, whose voice he’ll never hear again. Some of them were gone way before They came, but some other, he just couldn’t save.

There’s a shift all around him, reality sets in, the strangeness of it. Danny deployed, Steve pining for his boyfriend, unable to help, still convalescent from his various wounds.

“Did they test you already?” Steve blurts out, unable to rein it all in, profoundly aware of how these things go, it is after all what he does as a “hobby” since Danny went; get as much information as he can on the situation. He couldn’t pretend the test wasn’t happening at some point, all people who present the gene and are clearly not wash-outs, are tested. Danny was bound to get tested as soon as the alliance could get their hands on him. His background as a LEO is a huge asset that can’t go ignored.

There’s a small fraction of a second where the line goes silent, and then it connects again.

“Yeah, yeah, no, sure, I mean, yeah. I got tested. A bunch of us did.”

Steve frowns, that’s Danny deflection 101.

“How was it?”

One more time, the line goes silent for less than a second.

“Hmm, uhmm, babe, look, I’m pretty sure this call’s been monitored and as you know we can’t really discuss… the process: it’s classified.”

Steve huffs. He hates that ultimately, he can’t truly know, because he’s not there.

“Sucks been told that, huh?” Steve rolls his eyes, trust Danny to keep grudges alive

for the better part of a decade. “Can’t believe it took a major world-wide disaster to get you back on that one.” Danny tries to keep it light, but even before he says it, Steve knows whatever Danny comments will fall flat.

There’s a short silence where neither of them talks, and Steve can hear the hub dub behind Danny—wherever he is. It sounds familiar in a disorienting way.

On more the one occasion he had told someone from outside to not purposefully make it hard on his team guys. His stomach clenches, and Steve takes a deep breath as he racks his brain for safe topics to talk about.

“How about the food? We can talk about that, right?” He exhales after the last word, ordering his body to relax.

Danny clicks his tongue. He knows what Steve’s up to, and he’s game.

“Oh, yes, we can! I don’t know what’s the deal with these guys, one week everything is delicious and hearty, makes you want to go for seconds and thirds, some seasoning has been so inspired it I use my free time trying to figure out the recipes.”

A distant memory flashes behind Steve’s eyes, Danny cooking back in Pikoii street, barefoot and carefree. Steve sniffs against his will and has to cover his mouth with the back of his hand as to not disturb Danny.

“And then for a few days or a whole week, bland crap, gruel, Steven, veritable gruel—makes me want to go in an involuntary diet. Yuck.”

Steve swallows thickly. “Sounds like regular military experience if you ask me, in fact, above regular, all I ate was gruel for the first four years of my service.”

“Nu-uh! Impossible, I know from a good source you were happy to eat rations in the comfort of your own home when good steak was readily available.”

Steve swallows again, tears spilling over his hands.

“It was Italian food actually,” he croaks.

“Even worse, babe, you’re really not helping your case.”

“What can I say, I get nostalgic sometimes.” He trips mentally on the nostalgia and a sob slips past his tight emotional control.

Danny sighs. Heartbroken as well.

“Babe, babe, Steve. I’m sorry, please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he sniffs.

“I know I just mean…”

“I know, I’m sorry too.”

“Look, I don’t mean to beat you while you’re down…” Danny trails off, but Steve can connect the dots.

“Basic training is extending then? You gonna be a specialist now?”

“Ugh, you’re killing me Steven. It’s cla—no, you know what, fuck this shit, whoever is out there screening my calls, you listen to me you son of a bitch,” Danny yell-whispers to the third party on the line. “I’m talking with my boyfriend right now, who I would have married if not for the giant clusterfuck we are all living through right now, he’s the father of my children and my best friend, so I’ll tell him whatever the fuck I want, you censor this call and I swear I’ll hunt you down and bash your head in, you hear me?!”

Steve chuckles wetly, this is the hothead he loves.

There's a soft clicking sound in the background. It sounds definitive. So, he chooses to believe the censor’s gone.

“You would have married me, huh?”

“Of course.”

“What if I said no.”

“Pfft, please, you were a sure thing.” Steve wants to protest, but Danny keeps talking

over him. “Look, now that the censor is gone. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“What?” Steve rushes to ask, fearing the worst.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. What else?”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you more. What else?”

“I already made it through basic and I’m being fast-tracked to pilot.”

Even though he suspected, having confirmation is like a punch to the lungs. No wonder the censor left, a pilot has different privileges, a pilot scares people away, even if they’re being hoisted as the only chance they have left.

“Steve, you there?”

“You’ve never been one to pull your punches.”

“No, I haven’t. Which is why, once I’m done with that I’ll be coming home for a whole month, okay?” Danny pleads, “I got special leave. I’ll be home for Christmas, okay?”

For Steve, it’s like the world’s ending all over again. The future path folding in on itself in front of him, rearranging into a yawning void made of the fearful and the unknown.

Christmas.

Christmas is only two months away. He can foresee his life up until Christmas. He can push through to that.

“Christmas it is.” He sniffles again.

“Yeah, Christmas. Look, I still have about five minutes on the line, why don’t you tell me about the kids, they adjusting well?”

More tears run down his face, but he talks. About homework, about tantrums, about movie nights, about burnt popcorn, about the kids begging to get a dog, about shortages of chocolate and coffee, about going insane with the bickering and the meaningless fights, about never doing so much laundry in his life, the herb garden Charlie and Nahele are doing together as a school project, Grace’s dissertation and newfound interest in nursing. Steve talks and talks, enough to carry Danny home, safe and sound, only two months away.

–

*beams* I’ve been wanting to expand this little verse forever, thank you again! :D

[swimmingnewsie]

Of Coffee and Cookies- Chapter 17

Link to AO3 

---

“Come on, slowpokes! We’re going to be late!”

Elsa couldn’t help but laugh as her little sister rushed ahead, running and tumbling through the streets. Though admittedly it still made Elsa nervous, parkour was an active part of Anna's life now- a part that made Anna happier than she had in months. The pure joy on Anna’s face as she swung around on dubiously strong light fixtures was worth the minor scrapes and bruises she helped fix up at the end of the day.

“Oh no you don’t!”

She shook her head as both Kristoff and Ryder ran ahead as well. They had gotten so competitive in the wake of Anna’s newfound strength, always wanting to race when given the opportunity. It left some sense of normalcy that had been gone for the longest while. But unlike her companions, she felt no reason to rush. Softball had nine innings after all; it was okay to take her time.The warm spring sun felt perfect on her face, a light breeze bringing her peace and clarity of mind.

As April turned to May, the weather wasn’t the only thing that was improving. After her night in the emergency room, things changed quickly for Elsa. Berkeley Behavioral Health had ordered a genetic test for her, one that tested the compatibility of antidepressants with her body. And after years of the wrong medication, Elsa finally had something that worked. Between that and exercise and the increased sessions with her therapist, the highs felt good again and the lows weren’t as scary. It was incredible what just a few small changes made.

She felt better than she had in years.

She could work again. Her responsibilities were still stressful; her students still emailed her at two in the morning over their exam results or advice for their papers; her dissertation was still a mess. But the mess was manageable now. Nights that might have otherwise been lost to crying and sleeplessness had turned into only an hour or two of distress. The chains on her mind had loosened, not broken, but there was space to breathe again. Space for fun. Space for life. And to her greatest joy, space for Honeymaren, who had been by her side the whole time, even when things were tiring or frustrating or upsetting.

Elsa could finally repay her for the previous months in gentle kisses and sweet love. She could be there for all the little moments they had missed before: rubbing soft circles in her back as she lamented the awful PTA meetings she was forced to attend; holding her as she told her about the awful phones calls she had to make that day; smiling as her love got excited over a lacrosse match. Or in this moment, getting to watch the middle school softball team she had heard so much about at night.

The sound of a ball clinking against a bat drew her attention from her thoughts. The faint sound of cheering followed, unconsciously quickening Elsa’s steps towards the small field.

The stands were relatively empty, not that Elsa truly expected much different. It was a sixth grade softball game in the middle of Thursday afternoon; parents were the target demographic. But even for the light crowd, the kids in the dugout certainly filled the field with energy and excitement.

Well at least the kids on the opposite team. Maren’s girls for the most part, bless their hearts, were terrified of the ball. And being a home game, it would take a while to get past the top of the inning.

“Come on, Janie! You can do it! Strike them out!” Maren cheered enthusiastically from the side. Elsa couldn’t help but blush; Maren looked good in her coaching uniform, highlighting more than her authoritative attitude. She couldn’t help but stare at her-

“Quit gawking at your girlfriend! There’s baseball happening here!” Anna shouted from above her.

Elsa laughed, racing up the bleachers to her sister. “You stinker!” she teased, tussling her sister’s hair. “I’ll get you back for that.”

Anna laughed in return. "I'm not the one eye-fucking my girlfriend at a children's sporting event."

"Anna, language!" she jabbed before any of the parents could do the same.

Anna rolled her eyes before looking at Kristoff and Ryder. "Am I wrong?"

Ryder shook his head laughing. "Sorry, sis. I'm asexual as they come and even I can tell that's what you were thinking."

"You've never been exactly subtle, Els," Kristoff chuckled, only causing Elsa to blush more heavily.

Elsa glared at him. It was good natured, but she would kill for the teasing to end."Hush up and watch the game."

"As you wish, your majesty."

---

"Eye on the ball doesn't mean it's gonna hit you! You can do it, Megs!" Ryder shouted from the stands.

Even he had to admit, this year's team wasn't the easiest to cheer for. The girls were quite timid and afraid, especially of the spherical object that ran the game. But, dutiful brother and occasional waterboy, he would cheer them on day in and day out. Even if they hadn't scored in four games.

"I'm sorry, Coach's Brother!" A dejected preteen shouted back after striking out.

"It's okay, kid! You'll get it next time!"

Ryder sat back down, resting between two bleachers. The innings were moving slowly, but at least they were moving. He looked to the field changing and then to his friends around him. Maren was high-fiving her students, making any attempt to bring their spirits up. Elsa on the other hand was still eyeing his sister, with Anna not so slyly taking embarrassing pictures. And then there was Kris.

Kris was engrossed in something, flustered by something on his phone. It was cute, the way that he bit his lip and scrunched his brow. "You know the baseball's up here," he teased, poking his ex-boyfriend on the shoulder.

“Sorry,” Kris sighed, putting his phone down. “Guess I’m a bit distracted is all.”

Ryder huffed, looking back at their friends. “Seems you aren’t the only one. But I think I’m better to help you than them, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” He stretched his back, smiling at the satisfying crack. “Just looking at jobs, but I- I feel conflicted.”

“What over, find something better than baristaing?” Ryder teased lightly. “You’ve been applying for weeks, did you get a hit somewhere?”

“Sort of.” Kris ran a hand through his hair, his eyes looking around. “They’re offering me a promotion at Mermaid’s. They want me to be the assistant store manager. They want to train me to run the whole damn thing.”

Ryder couldn’t help but smile. The promotion would mean the world to Kris. He would be able to fix up his car properly and finally have a regular schedule and probably so many other things. “That’s amazing, dude! That’s so exciting! Why are you excited?”

“I- I don’t know,” he said, nervously picking at some grout in the bleacher. “I would have to take some more classes and certification. More food safety and even some management and marketing classes at the community college. But- I don’t know. Weeks ago I was so desperate to get out of there and now they’re offering this position and it feels almost like a betrayal to me? I don’t know it’s stupid,” he shrugged.

“It’s not stupid, man. It’s a big decision. And it’s not one you have to make right now.” He gave Kris a pat on the back, turning to get up. “You know what will make this better?”

“Yeah, and what’s that?” he asked, with that dumb little teasing sound to his voice.

“Nachos,” he said point blank. “I’ll be right back.”

He headed straight down to the small concession stand. He tried to be as fast as possible, but perhaps he was a little too fast when-

“Shit, not again! I’m so so sorry. Are you okay?” A young woman with bright multicolored hair ran into him, sending his food falling. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. Let me get you a new one? Please?”

“Um, I’m okay. Are you okay?” he asked, brushing the last of his chips off of his shirt, a bit baffled by what happened. “You don’t have to, it’s not a big deal.” If he was being perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure who had run into who.

“No, no please I insist,” she said, helping to brush off a few crumbs. “I’m Gale,”

“Ryder,” he said, starting back to the stand. He was finally able to get a good look at her- no them. He noticed a pronoun button, pinned proudly on a t-shirt for the middle school. “One of your kids go here? I’ve been around for a while, but I can’t say I recognize you.”

“My nephew,” they said before turning and ordering. “I think he has a crush on one of the girls on the team. He certainly has a sudden interest in baseball, that’s for sure. But who am I to object? I’ve always wanted to share it with him. Glad I finally can.”

Ryder smiled. “That’s sweet. Some of my favorite memories were of my dad taking me and my little sister out to play. Definitely something worth passing-”

“Gale!”

Anna was shouting up from the bleachers. How the hell did Anna know them?

“Hey! How’s my favorite barista?” they laughed as Anna started to come down. “I was just going to text you! What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“I get off at 10:30. Pre-closer, so hopefully I’ll be out on time. What’s up?” she said, dusting herself off. “Ryder, this is my friend Gale. I met them at my parkour class.”

Ryder nodded, grabbing the food that was set out. “So this is that Gale? Nice to finally meet you.”

Gale blushed. “Talking about me?” they teased. “Hopefully good things.”

“All good things,” Anna said rolling her eyes. “Like how badass you are, how you always manage to beat me in a race,all sorts of good things.”

They laughed. “Well I’m flattered. Well I was going to text you and ask if you would want to come out with me to Oaken’s tomorrow night? They’re doing a fundraiser for some high school’s GSA. Karaoke and drink profit goes to the school. What do you say?”

“How did a high school manage to run a fundraiser through a gay bar?” she asked with a small laugh. Ryder nodded; he was thinking the same thing.

“I think the owner’s kid goes there,” they shrugged. “Nevermind that, what do you think?”

Anna pondered it for a second. “What do you think, Ryder?”

HIs eyes widened. Was she trying to get them together? What was her goal here? “I mean it sounds like fun. You should go.”

“Think I would be fine bringing some others?” she asked.

Gale nodded enthusiastically. “More the merrier. It’s for a good cause.”

“Perfect! Ryder, you tell Kris and I’ll tell Elsa?” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before running off. “This’ll be fantastic.”

Ryder stood in shock for a second. “Um, sorry about that. Anna has a bit of a habit of-”

“Meddling?” they laughed. “I know. She kept trying to set me up on dates until I told her I was aroace.”

He didn’t think his eyes could get any wider. That’s why Anna was asking what he thought. “I- I’ve never- I’ve never,”

They tossed some of their hair back. “It’s okay. A lot of people don’t understand. Don’t worry.:

“No, no,” he said, putting a hand out as if to catch himself from stumbling over his words. “It’s just- I just realized it myself a couple of months ago. I haven’t met someone- not in real life at least- someone like me.”

Gale smiled. “Well Ryder, I will happily be your first triple-A friend: asexual, aromantic, agender.”

Ryder smiled back at them. “Thanks.”

“Come on, we’ve got some softball to watch.”

---

“Elsa, come on. You are not going to a gay bar in your professor clothes.”

Elsa tilted her head at Honeymaren. “What do you mean? I look good.”

“You look professional,” Maren said, wrapping her arms around her waist. She leaned her head into the crook of Elsa’s neck. “Besides, how am I going to dance with you if you wear that stiff shirt?”

Elsa laughed a little bit as Maren nibbled at her ear with a kiss. “You seem to be doing just fine right now.”

“Mmmmm,” she moaned softly. “Perhaps, but you’ll get hot so quick in that.”

“Oh, you’re worried about me being hot?” Elsa teased, reaching back to touch Maren’s hips. “Then what do you think I should wear, Oh Great Firemistress?”

“You are such a dork,” she said, sneaking one last kiss. Maren searched through her girlfriend’s closet, working past her usual work clothes. “What about this? I’ve never seen you wear it?”

“Never the occasion. A navy sundress isn’t exactly lab attire?”

“Hmmm, well good thing we aren’t going to the lab,” Maren smiled mischievously. “For me?”

“Well,” Elsa smiled, tapping on her chin. “Only if you help me take this off?” she teased.

“Oh, that I can absolutely do.”

---

Kristoff paced nervously in the living room. He hadn’t been out in a while, much less going out with his ex-boyfriend and their group of friends. But this would be fun right?

“How long does it take to get dressed to go out? Elsa is a stickler for time,” Anna sighed sitting down on the ground, her back against the couch.

“Well I don’t know if you noticed, but my sister is also in there with your sister. We could be waiting a while,” Ryder teased, handing her a controller. “Might as well play.”

“Uck-” Anna said, taking the offered controller. “Don’t make me think about the fact our sisters might be boning while we’re home.”

“Hey, I don’t like it either! Why do you think I put on Mario Kart?”

Kristoff smiled. Even after all this time, Ryder made his heart flutter. He shook his head and pushed it aside. He couldn’t act on it. It wasn’t right. “You know we could just go bug them to hurry up?”

“And risk burning my eyes out? Fat chance,” he laughed. “You want in next round, Kris?”

“Sure, I’ll play winner.”

Maybe going out wouldn’t be so bad. He could let loose of it all, be whoever he wanted for a night. It would be good. It had to be.

---

Anna didn’t know what to expect when they arrived, but it certainly wasn’t the dance club they arrived at. She hadn’t heard much about it other than seeing it on the news when it first opened, but Anna hadn’t been much for clubbing when she had first come to the city. It was everything the old Anna would have loved: loud music, a large dance floor, and plenty of people.

She fiddled nervously with the bands on her wrist. She had to admit, the club was pretty clever. There were a set of bands for the gender you identified as and a second set for what you were looking for. It had always been a passive thing, something she and Elsa had talked about, but she never brought it out in public. She had been too vulnerable after Hans to try and deal with it. But wearing the bisexual bracelet made it real, powerful. She could be her true self with no limits.

The music blared an old pop song she couldn’t but dance to. She smiled, letting herself move freely towards the bar where Kristoff was sitting alone. “What are you doing here by yourself?” she asked with a little more gusto than normal. “You’re at a dance club, and you aren’t dancing!”

“I don’t have that kinda rhythm,” he laughed, sipping on his whiskey. “Go, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Now,” she laughed, a bit giddy. “Come on, the song is called “Shut Up and Dance” not “Sit Down and Drink.””

Kristoff shook his head, downing the last of his drink. “You’re drunk.”

“Maybe...” she slurred. Her mind did feel a bit foggy, but it was a good fog. A happy fog. A fog she wanted to share with Kristoff. “Come on, please?”

Much to her delight, he joined her in dancing. Neither were particularly good, but they didn’t have to be. She danced against him, her back to his chest and breathing in his scent. Normally the musk of sweat and alcohol would have turned her away, but she found herself wanting to draw closer.

“Having fun?” he asked as her movements slowed. Her limbs were tired, and she just wanted to hold onto his warm embrace.

“The best,” she said, breathless. “The best because you’re here and it’s fun and it’s really really nice.”

She felt his chest shudder, but decided to ignore it. “Best because I’m here?”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “I know you’re sad about Ryder still, but you came and are having fun.” Her eyes opened wildly, gaze unfocused. “You are having fun aren’t you? I’m sorry. I’m so awkward. I’ll shut up and-”

“No, no,” he gave a small laugh that made her whole chest feel like it was about ready to burst. “Just not what I thought you would say.”

Her body relaxed again against him. “I’m glad you’re having fun,” she said, her eyes getting tired.

“You wanna sit down for a bit? Have some water?” He was holding onto her hand, leading her off the floor. She nodded slowly, letting him lead her to a chair. “There we go. I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks, Kris. Love you.”

She didn’t watch as he walked away, didn’t notice or care how he reacted. She was happy and warm and a little drunk. Everything else could be taken care of in the morning. But for now, she would live in this one perfect moment.

[chenoehi]

I have read your rant and I agree with most of them, but there is one thing I disagree with. As we know, Jin will go to the military next year. This means Big Hit can start release duet singles. Just like the artists of other companies do.(eyeing EXO) I think pairs must at least be popular to do that. Before Kookmin became popular, they only had TK, but since last year they've been promoting KM, make them get more fans. So they will have more pairs, more money. It's just buisness.

Hello 💜

Thank you for the ask. I don't want to harp/rant on this subject, but I'll answer some asks about it if that can help clarify my point of view (and hopefully this will be a healthy discussion). I don't get many asks anyway so I have fewer opportunities to air my opinions. That's probably why these rants are turning into dissertations. Sorry anon 🤷‍♀️🤐

If you don't want to suffer through all of this, just skip to SALIENT POINTS down below. I have no idea how to use the read more on mobile.

I have a different perspective on a few things you mentioned, but first, I agree that in a business sense BH have recently and will continue to promote subunits (with exceptions, more on this). They have to prepare for the next stages of the boys' careers as an incomplete Bangtan once Seokjin and Yoongi go into the military. I don't think that the company hasn't been doing what any business does which is capitalize on what's popular and give fans what they want (BTS World game anyone? It gave the y/n people what they wanted, and everyone else got a fun little game out of it).

What I don't think is that BH has necessarily pushed KM in front of people's faces to *make* them popular any more than they've done with other pairings. At some point in time, all of the boys have each had photoshoots with one or two members. All have been paired up visually or for a game or for hotel rooms or whatever rooms they're on for the Run! episodes and what the fans get is to see the different members interact with each other. It's not always the rapline and the vocal line hanging out together, or the hyung line and the maknae line hanging out together.

I didn't agree that some things lately have been done to bait KM fans. That's not the same as me saying I don't think that BH is a business that acts like a business and capitalizes on what they can. I'm also not a blind defender of BH. I've been disappointed with some things, mostly with the lack of control over antis and the lack of defense for their artists (I'm thinking of Jimin's two t-shirt *scandals*). But all of that is off topic and not related to KM in the slightest.

Is BH responsible for KM's popularity?

You mentioned that you feel like BH has helped make KM popular (paraphrasing). I don't see it that way. I think people of all types are seeing how close they are and reacting accordingly. If anything, KM have made themselves popular (loudness on tour, GCFs, vlives, spending time together, etc.). Or at least that's how I see it.

With how obvious they've made their affection for each other (platonic or romantic), Jimin and Jungkook themselves have, over the years, inadvertently alerted everyone to how close they are and they naturally make a good pairing. They spend a lot of time together and so the documentaries, docuseries, Bangtan Bombs, and variety shows just reflect their bond. The fans get a ton of moments and some begin to notice this pairing whereas they may not have before. I think this process has been natural. More and more people 'see' them each day and it's mostly because of how they act around each other. When you're in love, people notice.

I don't think KM's popularity has been fabricated; what I mean by that is, I don't think they've become popular because of BH. Let's not forget about what happened with the Black and White performance video, or how long it took to get a Bangtan Bomb of behind the scenes. People began to think we'd never get it and it was obvious that KM was being isolated for whatever reason. Who knows why it took so long or what went on behind the scenes. Did they acquiesce to the fans' demands for the video when they published it or was it always planned but just delayed? We'll never know. But if BH really wanted to play up the pairing to help it gain popularity I'm not sure they handled it the best way; all they really did was irritate fans, and only the people who attended muster and filmed it really got to enjoy it.

Would BH or have BH promoted shipworthy subunits? Does this make total sense, considering both a business and artistic perspective? Bangtan's creative agency (past, present, future)?

Putting aside rapline and vocal line units and any songs released on SoundCloud, Jamais Vu and the OST are really the first times we've got an official series of Bangtan subunits to listen to (Jungkook, Jimin, Namjoon, Taehyung, and Seokjin have collaborated with various arrangements but only on songs they've released on SoundCloud, done for Festa, for dramas, etc.).

These subunits were a surprise to most people, especially the Jamais Vu and Brand New Day subunits. So far we've gotten subunits that a lot of us probably weren't thinking of or asking for. I know a lot of people want to see Yoongi and Jimin do something or Jimin and Namjoon (minjoon is gaining popularity real fast, but more on ships in a minute) and people have been asking for a Taehyung and Jungkook subunit for who knows how long. <- these observations are based on what I've seen people say since I became a fan. I haven't even touched on Sope and Otsukare because frankly, that is a very popular pairing, ship, and both Yoongi and Hoseok know it and they have fun with it. Ships aside, pretty much everyone agrees that Otsukare is hype and it's a travesty it's not on SoundCloud. (It just makes me smile, ilovethemsomuch).

I said all that ^^^ to say this:

I have no idea how SM decided on their subunit pairings for EXO (insert other applicable idol group and agency).

I have no idea if other companies pair their artists for subunits based solely on their popularity in the fandom.

^ This seems unrealistic for various reasons. That's a cash grab. There's no consideration of the artists voices, how they fit stylistically, their range, etc. etc. Please, no one bring up SuperM. We haven't even seen them in action yet so we literally can't judge anything (not to mention it's a whole group, not a subunit, and we all know how different Bangtan's individual styles are).

I have to assume from the randomness of the MOTS/OST album subunits we've gotten from Bangtan so far that they haven't been thrown together just because they're popular pairings; if anything these were unusual choices and not really anything I've seen people asking for (I don't mean that they aren't good pairings, only that I'm not sure anyone saw those subunits coming).

When it comes to subunits on albums I would think Bangtan has a say in who does a song with who. They have, after all, had creative license to write and produce their own music this whole time. I don't see them being forced into doing a subunit song they don't want to do. If anything, we know at least once they were told not to do a specific song with a specific member (vmin/Christmas duet) and that was an issue of content.

Subunits have to make sense.

-> -> -> In order for a subunit to be successful and make sense, the 2 or 3 (or 4) individuals have to have vocal chemistry. Their voices and styles have to compliment each other and they have to sound good together. Rappers can get away with this a little bit but they still have to flow. Vocalists have it harder because in a duet or small subunit they'll be harmonizing, etc. etc. A company can't just throw two vocalists against a wall like spaghetti and see if they stick.

-> -> -> -> -> Subunits based on looks or to satisfy shippers et al. don't make much sense unless the subunit makes sense without those factors.

Since you mentioned EXO, I'll use the recent Chanyeol/Sehun EXO subunit as an example:

I'm not that well-versed in the EXO fandoms shipping culture, however, I do know some of the popular ships. And I'm not entirely sure if C/S are one of those (Chanyeol/Baekhyun? Huge.). The subunit makes sense since they're both rappers and the song is a rap song (I haven't actually heard the song but I saw the promotions). I have no idea if people were asking for that pairing or not. Likewise, I have no idea if they're a really popular pairing. They may be, either because of shipping or because they're rappers.

Popularizing/Monetizing/Exploiting/Fabricating

Saying that BH monetizes KM implies that they're deliberately trying to make money off of their bond and their popularity as a ship (more on this next). This can imply many things but one thing it implies that has a very negative connotation is that BH would fabricate things or deliberately mislead fans to make money (I've already explained that I don't see either the 2018 Memories or the Bring the Soul docuseries episode as KM bait, and I'll just have to agree to disagree with those who feel that way). Saying that BH can capitalize or make money off of KM implies to me that KM are popular, BH sees that, and BH may give us more moments of them together on film, etc.

In order to do that though, BH has to advertise the KM content. Are they actually doing that? I'm not convinced.

But this all still goes back to my point in the other post that BH actively promoting KM content in the interest of *winning* KM fans popularizes the ship and that's dangerous if they are actually together. It's dangerous because it opens them up to more scrutiny and puts them at risk of being outed. This would be devastating from a business sense unless the fandom culture changes (not going to happen) or they ease us into it. Maybe they are trying to do that now, I don't know how I feel about that, sometimes it seems that way but the reality of that is unrealistic. Before they could even remotely come out Bangtan and BH would have to take an obvious step toward supporting the LGBT+ community. They can't just skip over that to letting their artists come out.

KM are popularizing themselves with the way they act, and the video content we get continues to show how they interact. There's little BH can do at this point to avoid aiding KM in coming off as couplely. I mean, Seokjin deadass asked them if they were dating without a care in the world and teased their giggly asses on a Run! episode; he said it to tease them and everyone kind of brushed over it so it ended up not being very *dangerous*. It can't get much worse than that unless they were caught doing. . . something even remotely naughty and it got included in a show or film. We can infer things from their moments together and everything can seem couplely to us but each moment watched in isolation (with notable exceptions *cough*Rosebowl*cough*) isn't all that bad. They don't seem to be backing down in the slightest.

The only thing that I would think of as recent deliberate KM content (disregarding the *hearts* in their captions on episodes, photoshoots, etc. etc. because ALL members get that treatment) would be the VCR for 5th Muster. KM were in several scenes alone and Jimin was hella flirty. But that's just the thing: Jimin was flirty and Jimin is always flirty. He laid it on thick for the VCR but it's not unusual in and of itself. There's also the fact that they went to Busan this muster, and along with the KM being in the VCR they also did a photoshoot and even had photocards if I'm not mistaken. We know from the reaction of the city of Busan that people were pumped. Jimin was all over buses, etc. Busan got hyped. I don't doubt that BH may have done that deliberately because they were going to Busan. Could they have done it to deliberately excite KM shippers/fans? Sure. Did they capitalize off it? Well, the VCR was only available to people who'd already bought their tickets and no one was 'allowed' to film anything because muster would be available on vlive+, but they can never stop people from filming and within no time we already had the VCR or at least we had the KM bits immediately. So people don't really have to buy access to watch the VCR to satisfy their KM craving.

Basically, I'm neutral on that topic, I don't agree with the comments about 2018 Memories or Bring the Soul, and I'm not sure what else has been *done* recently to give off the impression that BH is trying to either exploit, capitalize from, or fabricate KM content. I could be proved wrong tomorrow but it seems like business as usual to me.

If BH wants to increase the popularity of certain pairings for subunit opportunities later, from a business perspective, why are they not capitalizing even more on already popular pairings?

I think we can all agree that taekook seems to be the most popular ship. Other popular ships I notice are sope, taegi, yoonmin, and taejin, with minjoon increasing in popularity; I see vmin mostly discussed in friendship terms with relatively little discourse on the 'realness' of the ship. My impression from this fandom has been that kookmin's popularity has been largely in the background until mid to late 2017 and really unleashed in 2018 when everything exploded.

And we all know this was partly because of two things: KM's increasing *loudness* and GCF:t. Neither of which had much to do with BH or any intention to make them an even more popular pairing for subunit/etc. purposes.

The way I see it, GCF:t was the straw that broke the camel's back for this fandom and at that point people *really* began to voice their opinions about this ship. After GCF:t people really began to question in earnest whether something was going on with them. The people who already suspected #jikookisreal were just cemented in their belief.

It seems to me that Jungkook's video (and his subsequent favoritism of #mainmodel Jimin) was the catalyst for this ships burst in popularity to where it is now.

But that being said, KM are still either less popular or soon to be on equal ground with TK. And yet, despite years of intense support for this pairing, Jungkook and Taehyung have yet to do anything creative together. Vmin is popular as a ship and in platonic terms, but Taehyung was told not to do a song with Jimin because of the content. If they'd done the song BH could have boosted the popularity of the pairing and capitalized on that subunit. Yoongi and Hoseok did Otsukare, and while it's a fun song it has never to this day made it officially to SoundCloud, despite the popularity of sope pairing as a ship.

More importantly, Jimin and Jungkook already are a subunit. They've done "Christmas Day" and a cover of "We don't Talk Anymore" together. Albeit, these were offerings for SoundCloud and Festa, but the two have already worked together of their own accord and established themselves as one of the 2-singer subunits in Bangtan. The fandom hardly hypes them as a subunit save for jikookers, and we already got a dance subunit performance so the fandom at large doesn't really push for them to perform together again at the moment. Yes, people might be noticing them more and they may be gaining in popularity as a ship and a pairing, but the amount of fans who see them as #busanbrothers as opposed to #busanboyfriends, a.k.a. the non-shippers who think the mere idea is crazy, is still large.

Salient points:

1. TK is still more popular than KM no matter how much of a bubble some of us are in,

2. TK fans (shippers or otherwise) are very vocal about wanting a TK subunit,

3. we still don't have it,

4. BH promoting KM for the purposes of officially debuting their subunit actually makes sense and doesn't come off to me as exploitation or monetization because they are already a subunit.

5. not many of the album subunit pairings so far have been very expected and/or made up of popular pairings or ships [jinjikook, vhope, and yoonmon aren't obscure by any means, but uber popular ships on the level of TK/KM/yoonmin/sope/taegi they are not (I would say that vhope would be the most popular ship out of these three, but that's just my observation)].

My general thoughts are that as far as music goes BH has neither made a concerted effort to push pairings that have a large, dedicated fanbase nor have they made strides to popularize subunits well in advance of the impending military enlistment of two members.

Yes, we now have 4 new album subunits between MOTS and OST and that's a lot, but only because we didn't have any before this year. Using the example of EXO again, they've had subunits for a while now and their group members only started to complete their service in the last few months (I know Xiumin/Minseok was in a subunit with 2 other members I believe, maybe Chen and. . Kai or Baekhyun, idk). Seokjin and Yoongi may be enlisting late next year, who really knows, and we still have to wait for two more albums to get the Namjoon/Jimin/Yoongi/Taehyung unit/s and these are only songs on an album. These aren't actual subunits that have been promoted separately from the group like Xiumin et al., Chanyeol/Sehun, and any of their other subunits.

From a business perspective, looking to capitalize on ship/pairing popularity, BH should be doing what exactly?

With how popular ships like TK and yoonmin are, to me it would make sense for BH to monetize and pair together the members that are already popular and who already have a very large fanbase practically begging for a subunit. When I say beg, I mean I see TKers really begging for a subunit on the daily. And other major ships like yoonmin are really desired subunits too; people still freak out over rapper Jimin and want a recycle of Tony Montana, and that compared with their *ship power* means it's pretty desired.

From a business perspective, wouldn't it make the most sense to capitalize even further on these popular pairings and satisfy fans who are just waiting to spend their money to see or hear their favorite members together?

I think it was obvious that BH was capitalizing on the ship popularity thing when they did the Hyundai ads. They paired sope and taekook together for those. It seems kind of clear. But other things like giving fancafe members a taekook selca among the other photos--I'm not exactly sure if the fans got all of that content as part of their perks of being a member or how that works, or if they had to purchase that content, I'm not really sure. But it seemed to me that they got all of those selcas and photos because they were members. When that happened I saw the KM community commenting and making fun of TKers for "having to pay for their ship's selcas" (which, honestly, is just fucking childish and rude and I'm kind of tired of hypocrisy--what do you say to jikookers who would "pay" for content if they thought they would get something KM related? Do you mock them for "paying" for their ship's content? Pot -> kettle -> black). But that's a rant for another day.

My point is, BH has done things along the way to capitalize from ships or to make fans happy by giving them content with their favorite pairings, of course they have. I think that's just idol culture and the industry they're in, and it can't be helped. They pretty much pander to fans when it suits them and it's all tied into the toxic culture where idols can't date and a bunch of bullshit I'm not interested in talking about rn.

What I don't think is that BH has queerbaited us with KM. I'm familiar with being queerbaited, both when it's deliberate baiting and when it's not and people just get offended because they're ship wasn't real.

As for subunits, if KM are debuted as a subunit the last thing I want to hear is that BH pushed that and helped them become popular. BH can absolutely still capitalize on a KM subunit with or without interference because we all know KM do the work themselves.

More importantly though, KM are already a subunit. So I don't even see BH debuting them as a move to capitalize on their relationship or their popularity with fans. They've worked together and fans like them together vocally. It makes total sense for them to be a subunit and frankly, that has nothing to do with whether or not they're together. The subunit would make sense without BH doing it to pander or monetize.

Rant = over.

💜

[theasstour]

1/? i think that you, baby blue, and the last chapter especially deserve all the praise in the WORLD. so this is gonna be a few asks all at once but i think that you deserve it. i’m someone who has always struggled with body image. i’m not plus sized, but i’m definitely way heavier than what i want, and heavier than the people around me.

2/? i’ve dealt with snotty side comments, people straight up calling me “fat”, and my parents and family members telling me i needed to try and loose weight. i was 10 when my parents first said that shit to me. venus was just a character that expressed how i felt and said things that others were always afraid to. she made me feel that being overweight was fine and that being “fat” doesn’t dictate your beauty or worth. 3/? and even besides venus, who you wrote wonderfully, your writing in general was just beautiful. you made everything lead up to something; everything contributed to the plot. a lot of times you see rushed endings in fanfics but yours was planned out perfectly. you managed to write a novel length book that i never grew tired of. 4/? “‘You represent baby blue to me so here’s your color - you -,” he paused for a second. “Becoming everything.’” i loved the details of the whole exhibit. if you couldn’t tell already, i just love chapter 8 in general. like the first quote, this shows how much she means to him. The baby blue dress was there every time that, in my opinion, it was blatantly obvious he was beginning to fall in love with her. 5/? he associates the color with her and associating something so big in their relationship to HER is so beautiful in the most simplicity of ways. “And why are people so afraid of being fat? Of being called fat? Of being associated with ‘fat’? It’s because we have been taught that fat equals ugly.” the self love in this chapter got to me. 6/? this is everything that i think every plus sized human has been wanting to say but has been afraid to and you put it into words better than anyone else ever could. there’s a ton of more things that i want to say about baby blue but ive already said a shit ton of stuff. anyway, if you haven’t already figured it out, i love baby blue, venus, painter!harry, and your writing. 7/7 even the small details like harry’s pink converse were just perfectly written and idk how else to describe how much i fell in love with this fic. i cant wait to read more books from you! (also, the ending and the house: absolutely perfect. the flashbacks that you added in the eighth chapter also gave me LIFE) i’m not sure if you got all the parts, my internet was screwing up. so if a few things are left out, sorry. hopefully you still got the gist of it all haha

hiya my sweetness, sorry it’s taken me a while to get back to you, but this whole message has meant to much to me and i wanted to get back to your properly!

the part about you saying you’re not plus size, but that you’ve always been struggling with body image nevertheless, i want you to know that you don’t need to be plus size to feel a connection to venus! you don’t need to have a huge tummy or massive thighs etc, if you’ve ever struggled with yoru body in any way and seeing her love herself has helped you in some way, then that’s enough! everyone who has ever struggled with their body, no matter the size, i hope venus has had an impact on you, and i’m so happy to see that she has!

i grew up the same. i know my family wants what’s best for me, but their comments about my body - especially those made by my mum - has stuck with me my entire life. it isn’t till recently that i’ve made it clear that if anyone comments on my body, anyone’s body, their looks, or how they choose to dress, i will have absolutely none of it. i’ve been picked on my entire life and i’m not about to stand around and have people disrespect me and others around me. i hope you’re so much more than those comments. you’re so beautiful, so worth it, so incredible. at the end of the day, whatever you want to be, you are. and they might have their opinions and they might make their remarks, but that’s not who you are. it’s their loss they choose to look past your person and what you are and stand for, for what’s on the outside. fuck them. you’re amazing.

through writing fic for two years now and having read nearly 600 books, i feel like with bb i finally came to a point where absolutely everything i wrote helped the plot along! thank you so much for noticing that and telling me! it seriously means the world to me! i was so careful to plan bb and make sure everything made sense and everything lead to something! that meant so much! thank you!

i’m aware a lot of the people reading would’ve understood me just saying that with each painting harry added more and more baby blue - that you’d understand what that meant -, but i also knew that if my best mate read that - she studies animal science to become a vet (hmm idk where i got venus’ degree from ahsdhs) - she wouldn’t understand! so i had to explain it for everyone who doesn’t see things the same way i, we, do!

i want to thank you for sending this. thank you so so so much. it has meant the entire world to me that other people who has/feel the same way as i do are reading and seeing themselves in bb and venus. i’ve gone back and read these asks so many times and they’ve meant so much to me.

as you probably know - if you’re even reading this lmao it’s been so long since i got these - i’m writing my dissertation on the lack of proper representation in ya and children’s literaure. not that bb is children’s lit lmao, but your response goes to show just how much we need representation in fiction! good and respectful and positive representation! it makes me realise just how important all of this is! all kind of representation! thank you thank you thank you for making me cry and for sending me this. it means so incredibly much to me and will forever. i love you.

[tervacious]

Since Everything is a Feminist Dissertation Imma blog about Shane Dawson’s palette for a minute

Nine times out of ten when you make a statement and end it with BUT, you have outted yourself as a hypocritical ass who should have the ovarios to say what follows the BUT without the opening statement.  Maybe this will be true for me too.

In agreement with most radfems I totally think the cosmetics industry is a clusterfuck of male entitlement and wealth being siphoned away from girls and women to men and male CEOs, etc etc, and I also think the sheer amount of product and time involved in placing thirty-five different products on one’s face to achieve a “natural” look is insidious and a perfect exemplar of what misogyny functions like on a daily basis, BUT

I’m a survivor of an extreme fundie xtian cult that controlled female behavior by emphasizing conformity, femininity, modesty, and lack of adornment/personality.  I did not like this even as a small child because I’m a loner, Dottie.  A rebel.  Which means I was a totally normal little girl who didn’t like being controlled and who fought back at every opportunity.

Which might explain why I’m a goth.  I’m also an artist, and I’m on this planet, as are you, for a very tiny amount of time, and if I want to spend a fraction of that time adorning myself and wearing lots of black eyeliner, by the goddess I’ll fucking do it.  And there’s nothing radical or feminist about that, any more than there’s anything inherently radical or feminist about not doing it.

I have a single small dresser drawer filled with makeup, and I’ve been eyeballing it recently because I should really pitch out and replace about 80% of it for age related reasons alone.

And thus we come to the Conspiracy palette by Shane Dawson x Jeffree Star, and also the mini palette, Lorde help me

Jesus christ, look at that.

I only buy one eyeshadow palette at a time and use it until it is gone or falls apart into dust.  The current state of the beauty industry is such that they are pressuring women and girls into buying palette after palette, some of them enormous, some small, but a grown-ass woman owning stacks of these things is not unusual anymore.  And new ones are coming out constantly-- to the point where there’s a whole part of beauty YouTube devoted to “the anti-haul”, in which people announce which makeup thing they will NOT be buying.  This is a sorry state of affairs, there’s no way around it.

I don’t collect makeup because that’s silly.  It’s a huge waste of money.  I watch otherwise sensible women hoarding vast numbers of eyeshadow palettes, and they use only one or two colors and that’s... just sad?  Apply that to the vast quantities of makeup products, to your lipsticks and glosses, to your pencils and correctors and corrector palettes and concealers and blushes and highlighters and contours and powders and foundations and primers and mattifiers and setting sprays and mascaras and a bunch of others things I forget, add a pile of false eyelashes and I don’t know, eyebrow merkins or some shit, and that’s what a well-appointed makeup afficionado is supposed to have in her arsenal.  And all those things can’t be just one-- you have to have multiples, for reasons.  But I honestly think the eyeshadow obsession is the worst, which is strange coming from me, because I adore eyeshadow.  

And yet in spite of this I have a black stand-alone eyeshadow pan, and one large palette that is cheap, made in China, not great but with a lot of weird colors in it, so I use that one when I bother, and a few pots of glitter.  My plan is to use it up or wait until it’s too old to use safely, and then pitch it/repurpose the case for something (it is literally the size of a laptop with a huge mirror in it so I can think of something), and get a new palette.  I only buy one at a time, and use it until it’s gone.  You know, like a rational person.

At first I’d decided when the time comes I’d get the Jawbreaker palette and mini, by Jeffree Star, because I loved the colors, but now I’ve changed my mind, because Shane Dawson’s not only has a case that matches my aesthetic, it also has awesome colors and, most importantly, BLACK.  I use black eyeshadow alone or to set my eyeliner, so I’m devoted.  And while all of these palettes have too many neutrals for my taste you can always use those for some kinda detail, and the Conspiracy Palette is my jam.  It’s really gorgeous.  Not gonna lie.

The documentary he made about the making of this palette is interesting on multiple levels-- there’s the process itself, which I didn’t know shit about until now.  There was the portrayal of his relationship with Jeffree, which was interesting and often pretty funny, and touching.  And from my chronic can’t stop writing feminist dissertations POV, the way women are the target of this business and yet completely sidelined was a real eyeopener.   Let me just mention this one part:

In the final episode when the palette is assembled, each pan glued into the box and then the box boxed up, there’s a song with a woman singing about how she’ll never be Prom Queen.  Shane is walking through the assembly line, emotional, because this is his project coming to fruition.  Jeffree is with him, and Shane starts crying, and Jeffree comforts him.  The song is clearly meant to be something Shane feels.

But the scene is of dozens of women, none of whom will be prom queen, none of whom are about to make millions of dollars on cosmetics, in white coats and hair protectors and goggles, busily assembling a beautiful object, which one suspects only a few of them will be able to afford for themselves though I can’t swear to that, it’s possible they are paid well, the place is unusual, Jeffree makes all his product in the United States, and I’m not inclined to jump to conclusions.  But they are anonymously and busily working, putting together this thing, meant for women, and no woman really had any functional input into this project at all.  This was, as everyone was joking, Shane and Jeffree’s baby.  A baby.  You know, the thing a man can never have.

I appreciate film making that reveals truth, even if it wasn’t intentional.

So other than that there’s not much to say.  You can watch the epic thing yourself on YouTube, it was entertaining (and good for me because I need to opt out of some of the heavier shit I’m always buried in, yet one more reason I fucking QUIT MY JOB and am now FREE,) but if you want a look into the way the business works on the indy end of the spectrum, not the old timey Cosmetics Corporations but the new one that Jeffree Star basically spearheaded and upturned large chunks of the old business model, I think this documentary is a good one for understanding exactly how marginalized women remain in a business that ostensibly is directed at us.

The reason I think women like watching men like Jeffree and Shane and whoever else do these things is because it aids and abets the lie that wearing makeup is all a choice women make.  The men are choosing, because men have zero pressure on them to do these things.  Women are taught to have affinity with men and to ignore their lack of affinity with us.  These bits of entertainment are a great brainwashing reinforcing device, to get us along for the ride, to hop in the car we never ever get to drive.  And none of it is intentional, which is the best part.  As smart as Shane is, the joy of being male is you just take things, casually, as your birthright.  You’re totally entitled to make a nine-hour epic following your friends and family, unapologetically, put it on the internet, and get accolades, including the one I’m writing right now.  You’re entitled to dictate the facts as if they contain a great truth.  You can be totally unaware of the impact your decisions have for the greater bad.  You can think you’re helping your sister-in-law through her crisis created by the very culture you are responsible for while mocking the women she blames for making her feel bad.  This set of films is a monolithic treat for a radical woman to confront.  And I hope, since there’s truth hidden in plain sight throughout, that a lot of other women and girls will see it too.  Will notice the few females scattered throughout the film, consulted in the most cursory way, knowing they have to perform or they’re replaceable.  I’m an Old, and used to seeing the real world, which has looked like this all my life.  I don’t know what a fifteen year-old will see.

Tati Westbrook also released a new eyeshadow palette last week I think, and since people think if she puts out a forty-five minute video she’s talking too much, she naturally did not film a massive docudrama showcasing her Eyeshadow Palette Journey or whatever I could imagine her saying.  Thus she was very much overshadowed by something that won’t appear for sale until tomorrow.  I have no doubt she’ll do well, but will she make twenty million dollars?  Will she do as well as she could have if she were a man?

Should anyone, off of what is essentially bullshit?   Pretty, gorgeous bullshit?  Of course not.  That’s the actual feminist conclusion, it doesn’t matter if a male or a female is profitting off of, essentially, the insecurities and desires for cool new things and to be hip and liked and looked up to, which all of us have to some extent in some arena.  I’m not immune to it either, ain’t lying again.  It’s always an unseemly pleasure to have someone half my age ask me what I’m wearing and where I got it.  Capitalism has conditioned all of us to associate material things with social acceptance and admiration, and if you are a materialist person like I am, that association comes very easily.

Anyway, that’s it, that’s the bit.  I have no doubt this thing will sell out in approximately two hours, which will happen without me because my old eyeshadow palette still works.