#bc listen that man said we know it never works out (with people they rescue) so WHY THE FUCK

[watchyourbuck]

Technically I could freak out about the possibility of Eddie calling Buck ‘brother’ in the hand to shoulder still of the new ep BUT im choosing to think that if it does happen, it could lead to Buck’s big big biggg ‘oh, that doesn’t- doesn’t feel right’ moment

[kakashihasibs]

Yamato for the headcanon meme?

Alright okay hmmm

1) realistic.

I know i really love the idea that Yamato gardens and takes care of plants, but i don't think he actually does. When we see him using mokuton it's always very structured, which makes sense since he studies architecture! But i think for a long while he actually ends up sort of distancing himself from the more "natural" uses of mokuton as a way of separating himself from Hashirama. (Not completely of course, we see him use deep forest emergence after all)

If he takes up gardening I think it's after retirement. When he is relaxed and able to feel completely free from being used as a weapon 😌 as much as that is possible for any shinobi.

2) hilarious.

This isn't funny but yaknow. I've seen a lot of people write Yam as a lightweight when it comes to drinking, but with the healing factor of mokuton i think he'd actually be able to out drink anyone. Like if yam wants to be drunk he has to work at it.

Which means in that omake with Asuma, how much did yam put away while poor asuma sat there watching askdjdkdl (i dont do this anymore but my idea of it is like when, at a party, i sat down at the bar and lined up more shots than i want to admit to and drank them all one after another 🤦 yam does that but bc of his weird healing abilities it's like if a regular person just drank a beer or two in somewhat quick succession)

4) unrealistic.

I am his trophy husband (joking). Uh idk I'm just vibing with the yam loves older pop music headcanon tbh.

Honestly with the drinking and the pop music Yamato's vibes in any bar setting is just profoundly weird and wonderful. You watch some random ninja guy drink more than anyone should physically be able to and sure he gets drunk but he isn't like dead from it and then he gets up to sing material girl by fucking Madonna. I love him.

3) sad.

Okay listen i have like the worst headcanon that I haven't said at all to anyone bc it's honestly distressing so these are outta order so i can put this under a read more. Brief CSA mention (more as an analogy) under the readmore. Read at ur own discretion. (Long and the short of it: the curse mark is like hella traumatizing)

SO I've thought a lot about that fucking curse mark on all the root agents. Bc it like haunts me. Danzo puts it on CHILDREN!

So like a lot of the seals and curse marks we see being made usually require: direct contact, blood, and occasionally like a ritual sort of setting.

Ugh okay so okay baby not yet tenzō whose only experiences up til that point have been surviving torture and experimentation and being 'rescued' by Danzo who only wants him to become an emotionless weapon for the nation state.

Danzo tells tenzō that he should be grateful for merely being alive. Convinces tenzō he cannot ask anything more. You have that dynamic going into what is most likely a ritual setting (maybe) with a grown man putting his blood covered fingers down this kid's throat specifically to keep tenzō (and any of the root kids) silent about Danzo. Anything that danzo does or orders is forcibly kept secret.

Danzo wants absolute power and control of the root agents. Like that has to be deeply and profoundly traumatizing. Even if tenzō didn't understand it then i have no doubt that that shit pops up later in life as flashbacks and intrusive memories. I think it affects him in a very similar way to how CSA affects people.

Like yam has probably been to a dentist once and never again. And I'm done now. Is this sad and awful enough?

(Edit to add: what i think is really getting to me about the curse mark is that it isnt to keep state secrets safe. No, it is specifically to prevent root members from talking about Danzo. Danzo isn't protecting konoha he's protecting himself. So no one can expose his abuses and crimes. So he doesn't have to face an consequences. AAAHHHHHHHH D:< i hate that man)

[jettingtothemoon]

Shiggy

➳ pairing: shigaraki tomura x f!reader ➳ genre: angst, fluff ➳ warnings: mentions of death, swearing ➳ word count: 4119 ➳ rating: pg-15 ➳ summary: In which y/n joins the league of villains and discovers a soft side to her new boss. ➳ a/n: this is my first official oneshot that i wrote just for shiggy bc i just love him so much (*^.^*)

y/n never wanted to be a villain. She wanted to be a hero, one proud to help others no matter the reward. Well, that was until that one fateful day.

It was just like any other day but after that day, nothing would ever be the same again. y/n was at school when it happened; when the attack began. She should have been there because, just maybe with her quirk, she could have saved them. It was a villain never seen before, one so terrible that he killed or at least severely wounded every hero he came across in a matter of minutes. That was until Endeavour came along. By the time the great pro hero Endeavour arrived, the fight had made it's way to your street. As the fight continued, the families were evacuated out of their homes by other heroes and sidekicks, knowing that the damage to the street was going to be major in this colossal fight.

You could feel the rumbles and vibrations under your feet even as you sat at your desk only a few blocks away. It's probably just some construction work nearby, the teachers said. If only.

Your parents and little sister were still inside when it happened, not yet to be evacuated when the blast went off. Even Endeavour himself was having a tough time fighting this villain and, despite seeing that the villain was not going after any civilians, he let out a huge blast of fire. It engulfed half of the street in seconds, scorching the villain into submission. Everyone that end was supposed to have been evacuated, but they weren't, your family were still inside. Still hiding from the battle outside. They just wanted to live, to survive this terrifying fight. They weren't so lucky.

That was the day you lost all faith in heroes. Their job was to protect and rescue civilians but they couldn't even get that right. Why? Because they would earn more if they took down the villain. He couldn't have held him off until he was certain everyone was safe and outside of the blast radius. The worst part about it, not a single hero was harmed in the blast. They all saw it coming and, instead of rushing in to get your family out in time, they turned tail and fled before the blast could hit them.

Endeavour was reckless but those other heroes... they were cowards. They gave their lives a higher importance than that of your family. Your caring mother, your loving father, your baby sister. They were left to burn, to scorch in the hellflame as the so-called heroes ran away, leaving them behind.

You were left all alone. Your friends pitied you, tried to comfort you but their love for the very heroes that left your family to die remained. It was despicable, the way they loved them sickened you. They were your friends no more, not if they couldn't see what heroes really were. They were greedy, selfish, liars who all deserved to die in the place of your family.

Of course, you didn't act on those emotions at first. In fact, you simply lived your life quietly. You remained alone, you discarded the friends that didn't understand your hatred of heroes. You lived your life as any other citizen, keeping your head down and letting the heroes do what they wanted.

Well, that was until Stain emerged. The hero killer, he empowered you. He shared similar views to you but he still seemed to believe that there was such a thing as a good hero, for example, All Might. From what you had seen on the news and other videos that were circulating the web not long after his capture in Hosu, he believed that All Might was a true hero. You, however, once even believed Endeavour was a true hero. If the number two hero was a scumbag then you had no doubt that so was the number one. All Might, like Endeavour, was likely to have let the fame and power go to his head. That was why, despite agreeing with Stain's ideology, you still had no faith in there being any good heroes anymore. Maybe the future generations would prove you wrong, but you doubted it. The future generation of heroes were being trained by those very scumbags after all.

After the incident in Hosu, you turned to a different kind of lifestyle. You still lived your ordinary everyday life, sure, but you started going after those so-called heroes you detested so much. With your quirk, it wasn't too difficult to take down some sidekicks. Not that you actually killed any of them, no, you simply did enough damage to put them in the hospital for a long time.

Heroes sucked. That was just the stone-cold truth, even though you sometimes hated to admit it. Those whom you had looked up to your entire life were nothing but a bunch of phonies playing pretend. All they wanted was the money, fame and power. Not a single one of them truly wanted to save people, to protect the citizens that need it.

After a while, it wasn't only the heroes you detested but also all those people with quirks that didn't use them, despite knowing that their quirk could help save so many. Without a licence, using your quirk in public is prohibited but that wouldn't stop a true hero. A true hero would do whatever they could to help, not just stand by taking pictures. You hated that some people, those people whom sided with Stain, might take one look at you and lump you in with the rest.

Before long, whatever feelings you had for saving people was gone. You didn't want to be a hero anymore, you didn't want to save the people who didn't even deserve saving. The ones who deserved to be saved were those who really couldn't help in any of those situations. The people with quirks that were practically useless in combat or would be too dangerous to use against other people. But most of all, the quirkless. There were not many quirkless people anymore but your mother was one of them. She lived without a quirk and she died without a quirk, maybe even because she didn't have a quirk. Your father wasn't to blame either, in that situation, his quirk wouldn't have been much help and your sister was so young that hers hadn't even surfaced before she died. Your's, however, could have helped. You could have safely evacuated your family on your own before the blast went off. You could have saved them, but you weren't there.

Not too long after you began going after sidekicks, stirring up quite a fuss in the news, you were approached by a rather interesting man.

"So you're the one they're calling Streak?" His voice was bland matching his face which was void of any emotion.

You turned back to the sidekick that was lying behind you with several glowing, neon scorches over his arms and legs, then back to the man before you, "I suppose I am."

Although you were ready to break out into a fight at any moment, this was a man you didn't recognise. He wasn't a hero or sidekick, that was for sure. Neither was he any ordinary civilian. A villain then?

"We have a proposal for you." A small girl also turned into the alley, smiling at you brightly yet somewhat wickedly.

Although you doubted the two of them and kept your guard up the whole way, you followed them back to what seemed to be their base of operations.

"A bar?" You questioned, following them inside in hopes of finding out what exactly they wanted.

Neither of them answered you and so, you simply continued to follow them down the steps until you were in the room at the bottom. There was another man sitting at the bar and one behind it. The man behind the bar looked interesting and all but it was the one sitting there, with a disembodied hand over his face, swirling a glass in his hand with his pinky raised, whom you found truly intriguing.

"You brought her?" The man behind the bar spoke.

He kind of looked like a walking shadow with bright yellow eyes. You recognised him somewhat, although you were unsure of where from. The same went for the man sitting at the bar, who was still yet to turn around and face you.

"Of course we did. If the boss says to go find the girl, we go find the girl." The younger girl declared although it was funny she was referring to you as the girl when she was so clearly younger than you.

"See, they listen to me." The man at the bar finally spoke with his somewhat mellow voice and put his glass down.

You simply tilted your head to the side as he turned to you, trying to take in his appearance but, thanks to the hand covering his face, you ended up just staring into his scarlet eyes.

Those very eyes narrowed at you and he sighed, "Are you sure you got the right one? She doesn't look much like a villain to me."

"You don't look all that much like a villain either, Shigaraki Tomura." You finally realised who you were speaking to, recognising him from the news as the leader of the league of villains, and to be honest, you were flattered that they had reached out to you.

"Tsk. You haven't seen what I look like without father yet."

You were unsure what he meant by father but decided not to ask. Not that you had much time to because he was already speaking again, although he turned back to his drink first and began swirling it again.

"So, what do you think about joining the league of villains?"

"I didn't think you would be that straight up." You giggled slightly.

Shigaraki, however, only began to lose his patience and began scratching his neck, "Do you want to help us destroy the heroes or not?"

"Oh, I'm in, but why did you single me out specifically?" You asked.

Shigaraki sighed but didn't speak any more than that, and so, the man behind the bar answered you, "We've been watching you for a while. Your agenda seems to match with ours and there is no doubting your usefulness in a fight. We believe you will be a valuable asset."

"I believe I will." You grinned.

"What exactly is your quirk anyway?" The man behind you asked.

You turned to him, trying once again to avoid staring at the unusual burn scars that covered his body, "Well, my quirk is neon. I can emit a neon light from both the palms of my hands and the tips of my fingers. The light is kind of like a laser, it burns through pretty much anything it touches. I can also use the neon energy within me to charge my body and the use a burst of that energy to move from one place to another in the blink of an eye. Although, using my quirk too much can take a lot of energy so I can only do that a couple of times before I'm completely worn out. As for the beams I shoot from my hands, they don't use as much energy so as long as I've eaten a good breakfast I'm good to go for hours."

Shigaraki turned his head to you, seemingly finding some interest in hearing about your quirk before focusing his attention back on swirling his drink again.

And that was how you joined the league of villains. After officially becoming a member, you learnt that the man behind the bar was called Kurogiri. He was quite possibly the most normal of the villains. Although, none of them were really all that normal at all.

Dabi, or as you liked to call him 'fireman', was almost quiet. He didn't act as though he cared for, well, anything. Although, he certainly enjoyed fighting heroes. Pretty much all of the time he showed little to no emotion, but somehow the two of you had gotten along quite well since you joined the league.

Toga was quite possibly insane, but that only gave her personality. She was fun to be around and you enjoyed hanging out with another girl around your age, although she was a few years younger than you. The nickname you had given her was 'loopy' and surprisingly she didn't mind it nor find offence in it. Maybe it was because she was starting to like you, or maybe simply because Kurogiri told her to play nice.

Shigaraki had his own nickname too, of course, although he didn't like it. He would have much rather you call him boss or just his name but instead you were persistent in calling him by 'Shiggy'. You called him that not only because of his name but also his shaggy hair, it was kind of a combination of the two. That shaggy hair was something you had grown used to seeing, you even went as far as to ruffling it this one time but, obviously, he didn't much appreciate it and threatened to turn you to dust with four of his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

Actually, Kurogiri was the only one who didn't have a bizarre nickname. The most he got was a casual 'Kuro', which he seemed to prefer anyway.

Getting along with everyone was much easier than you expected it to be. Well, except for when it came to Shigaraki. Your boss was... difficult, to say the least. And, although he didn't seem to mind you, his cold exterior kept pushing you away when you tried to talk to him about something other than work or attempted to know him better.

It was over a week before he removed his mask, which you now knew was called father, in front of you. His face was different from how you had expected it to be. His face was... well, it was crusty. Especially around his eyes and mouth. His lips were split and chapped with a scar crossing over the left side of them. Another scar could be seen over his right eye. Despite all of that, he was surprisingly cute. He was younger than you initially thought, probably only around your age. You found your eyes scanning over him from the little beauty mark that dotted the underside of his mouth, up to the dry skin around his narrowing eyes.

"What?" He somewhat snapped.

"Nothing. Just- Taking in your face before it hides behind that mask again."

Shigaraki scrunched up his brows but decided to ignore your gaze to focus on what he was doing. You had come to know that your boss was quite the gamer and, although he usually played in his room where the rest of you couldn't disturb him, sometimes, when Dabi and Toga were out, he would bring his switch with him and come to sit at the bar. Both you and Kurogiri knew not to distract him. Although, it wasn't so that you wouldn't anger him but simply because you also had a love for games and knew what it was like when someone interrupted your train of thought and cost you your win. So, you kept quiet or went for a walk.

Although, soon you grew to enjoy watching Shigaraki as he played his games and so, you simply sat at the bar a few stalls away to watch him. You liked watching the way his lips would curl into a little smirk every now and then when he knew he was going to win. You also liked it when he lost and scowled at the game, cursing under his breath before unconsciously pouting slightly. Once, he even accidentally destroyed the switch with his quirk mid-game. He was furious and stormed out to get another. You simply chuckled when the door closed behind him and got up to clean the mess. Then, you too headed out because there was something you needed to buy.

"Shiggy." You grinned, approaching your boss with a slight skip in your step.

"What?" He sighed, already used to the shitty nickname you had given him.

"I made you something."

He simply turned his head to you and frowned but, when you held out your present for him, his expression changed into something you hadn't yet seen. Surprise? Shock? Gratefulness? Who knows but it was better than the usual sulky face he showed you.

"It's a pair of gloves. They will only cover your pinkies but it will stop you from disintegrating anything else on accident." You explained, passing him the little gloves you had designed specifically for him.

"I- um, thank you?" He sounded so unsure of his words as if he hadn't a clue how to express gratitude but it made you smile nonetheless.

"You're welcome." You spoke with your usual perky voice.

Before joining the league, you had little reason to smile but now that they had finally grown used to you, you were smiling more often than not. You smiled when you talked to Dabi, Toga and Kurogiri, but it was when you were with Shigaraki that you found yourself smiling the most. He was so strange and so cold but there were times when he unintentionally showed you a soft side of him. Times when he was playing his games and even times when he was talking to you. His eyes would soften or he'd almost smile. It was always a small gesture but it still made you feel all warm and happy.

Even now, as he took the gloves from you, being very careful not to use all of his fingers as he did so, his eyes were soft and his lips curled up ever so slightly.

"I hope the material is okay, I tried to make sure they would be as comfortable as possible."

"Why do all of this? Why go to all the trouble?" He asked whilst slipping the gloves over his pinky fingers and around his wrists.

"Because, boss, we can't have you accidentally disintegrating the whole building now can we?" You joked although it didn't seem that Shigaraki found it all that funny as he just huffed, picked up his new switch, and headed back to his room.

"Don't take it to heart, he doesn't do well with displays of affection." Kurogiri sighed, trying to reassure you that Shigaraki was indeed happy with what you had done for him.

But you already knew that he was. You were good at reading people, even people like him, and you would have known if he was angry with you. You just wondered why he was like this and why he struggled so much to believe that any of you truly cared for him. The league, to him, was just a group of people with the same goal but to the rest fo you, it was almost like a family. Maybe one day he would realise that too.

It had been a long day, in which you, Dabi and Toga had all been out getting into your own little handfuls of trouble. Kurogiri stayed here with Shigaraki while he played his games. When you came back, you decided to find Shiggy and update him on the work the three of you had been doing for the most part of the day. When he wasn't sitting at the bar waiting for you to come back, you sighed and headed in the direction of his room. You hadn't been in there before and you were unsure of how Shigaraki would react if you came in without asking but, you also knew it was highly likely he was playing his games and decided that having him yell at you for coming in was better than having him yell at you for disrupting his game. And so, you turned the handle and walked inside.

Shigaraki was indeed playing video games. There he sat, with his back to you, on the floor in front of his tv with a controller in his hand. Despite wearing the gloves you gave him, he was still playing with each of his pinkies lifted off of the remote, presumably so that he didn't get into the habit of using all his fingers in case he one day forgot while not wearing the gloves. His head turned ever so slightly towards you for a second, although his eyes never once left the screen, but he just ignored you and continued playing.

He was clearly busy with his game so you simply walked further into the room, closing the door behind you, and sat at the end of his bed. You took a quick glance around the room, noticing how it was pretty much bare except for the bed and gaming set up in the corner.

It was a few minutes until Shigaraki said anything, but soon he was wondering why you were even here, "y/n. What do you what? Why are you here?"

"I just want to watch you play for now." You admitted, expecting him to tell you to leave.

But he didn't tell you to go. He just grunted and continued playing his game, so you stayed.

The more you watched him play, the more he fascinated you. His strategy in-game mirrored his intellect in reality too. His fingers tapped away so quickly at the buttons as he hammered in combo after combo, striking the enemy's weak points as if he memorised each and every one of them. Then again you wouldn't expect anything more from him. Shigaraki was a surprisingly intelligent man. He knew what to do and when to do it and, even if his temper would tempt him against it, he always knew when to back out of a fight he couldn't win. When it came to both reality and videogames, however, that was rare. He thought things out well and it seemed he even learned things from the games he played and applied them to real-life situations to provide him with the upper hand.

Shigaraki Tomura really was one of a kind.

A few more minutes passed and you found yourself pulling out your phone and swiping to the camera. You snapped some pictures of  him playing down on the floor in front of you. Then, you rolled onto your side so that you were lying on his bed, hanging off the side a little to get the perfect angle of his face as he played. You snapped more photos before sitting up and looking through them. He looked so cute when he played his games.

Before you realised, however, he had completed his level and was climbing up to walk over to you. He took the phone from your hands and pressed all of his fingers against it, watching it disintegrate into dust before slipping his pinky back into his glove.

You tilted your head up at him and pouted, "Those were some good pictures."

"Why were you taking pictures of me?" Shigaraki sighed, clearly not really in the mood for your shit.

"Because you just look so cute when you're focusing on your games and I wanted some pictures of you." You admitted, not caring for the way his eyes narrowed further.

"But why?"

You sighed and climbed up onto your knees so you were more at face level with him.

"I want pictures of you because I like you, stupid." You confessed, flicking him lightly in the centre of his forehead.

Shigaraki only began to scratch at his neck as his eyes widened slightly in confusion.

"You... like... me?" He questioned, pointing a finger into his chest.

He clearly still didn't get it, or at least he didn't believe you, so you reached out for his shirt, scrunching it in your fists slightly, as you pulled him in for a kiss. He was in such a shock when your lips touched his that he lost his balance and fell onto you. His hands, that were either side of your head, stopped his weight from crashing down into you but he was still lying on top of you nonetheless.

"Do you get it now?" You smiled, reaching up to peck his nose as his cheeks began to dust over with a slight blush.

"I- I."

You smiled and pulled him back down towards you, stopping briefly just before your lips came together again, "Shut up, Shiggy."

[4dtk]

stuck with you

pairing: enemy!journalist!haechan x journalist!reader

genre: angst, fluff, humour, enemies to lovers (hope i did the trope justice tbh TT)

warnings: cursing, f words lmao, i mention stranger things a lot in this??? mainly bc i just finished watching it w a friend. i also only use ‘haechan’ when narrating the story so i don’t get confused! the timeline for this is Very Weird as well bc like i didn’t consider how long a pandemic would last…… so Uhm. pls just excuse the weird ass time sequence. also referenced yangyang’s bastard child behaviour from dream plan where he packs his things messily and kun had to mf intervene and yangyang had the audacity to go like “see, this is how u get ppl to pack for you, now i don’t have to do anything” 💀

word count: 8k (a headache to proofread...)

A/N: first time trying an e2l trope and im not sure if it was done ok??? i didn't want it to feel too rushed so i tried to spread out the days as much as i could!! i also included small snippets of their life w the other so it won’t seem like the fic is just focusing on the e2l concept! was inspired tons by the lyrics of stuck with u by ariana grande and jb, so that song is definitely something you can listen to if you read this! hope you enjoy ^^

[day 1]

"you're insufferable," you groan, reluctantly handing over the remote control for the hotel's television after some unsuccessful scrolling.

hotels never exactly had much range anyway. 

you were very much already dreading the time ahead with the male, sadly having been stuck in quarantine not even half a day with haechan. 

offering to go to a neighbouring country to report on the rising covid-19 situation, you didn't expect your rival to tag along, no doubt seeking to craft up a better story than you would.

and so, you were now nudging the remote control into his waiting palm with a roll of your eyes. you hoped it emphasised your annoyance with him even a little, standing up to prepare a cup of tea before bed. 

"are you going to keep watching television while i sleep?" you ask a genuine question, peeking at him through the mirror of the vanity that sat outside the bathroom.

he just shrugs with a tired sigh, turning his attention back to the cartoon playing in front of him. 

"okay, well, keep to your side of the bed and i'll stay in mine. we need to be social distancing, anyway."

there's a hint of "okay, loser" mumbled under his breath, but you pay it no thought as you finish your tea and brush your teeth before you skillfully set up a fortress made out of pillows.

"ow! what the hell?" 

"your leg was in the way, jeez! move it, and i'll stop annoying you," you said, putting up the last of your requested pillows beside where haechan currently sat. 

taking one last glance at haechan, you wondered when the lockdown in your country would last before they start letting people fly in. for now, you were trapped with the nightmare himself in a sad hotel room, with only a bed to share.

"goodnight," he tells you, but the sardonic way he says it irks you to the point where you settle for silence instead. the only thing that drones on are the voices of the cartoon, soon fading as you feel into a dreamless sleep.

[day 4]

"this virus thing is probably driving me insane by day, and you, lee haechan, are adding on to it!"

"no headlines, no idea what style to write in, minimal pictures-" the doorbell to the hotel room interrupts your current rant, prompting you to storm off to answer the call with an annoyed look. 

"what now?" taken aback by your quick response, the housekeeping girl retracts with downturned eyebrows and a voice hesitant to speak. your roommate comes to the rescue almost immediately when he's heard the commotion.

you watch as he sends her a smile and a wink, deflating when he's let her in to clean up the room. you're not sure why you can't keep your eyes off the both of them as they converse, blaming it mostly on your hatred for the male.

with the last of her duties fulfilled, you offer to help her with the cleaning supplies as an apology, but she cuts you off almost immediately. there's a linger in her step, however, as she walks the short hallway to the door, evident in wanting haechan to send her off as he received her.

turning back to call him, he holds up a hand as he types down his opening lines to an article, prompting you to shoot the housekeeper girl another apologetic look.

"sorry again," you mumble, letting out a sigh at how this was all playing out. day four and you were already making enemies with the hotel crew.

"maybe day forty-one is where i fall in love with lee haechan," you scoffed, perhaps listing down all the unfortunate things that could happen while you were in quarantine.

one of them was catching feelings for your rival.

rolling your eyes, you settled on the bed to catch a few Zs as he continued to work on his article, though you weren't exactly sure about the weight your words held.

[day 9]

"haechan, what is this?" you ask with an eyebrow raised, his dirty boxers barely hanging off your finger. 

haechan only groans at that, knowing you were relentless in the laundry. even in a pandemic, he was sure you'd prioritise your clothes first.

"jesus! don't go picking up my underwear just like that!" he snatches it from you, folding it neatly and placing it next to where his luggage sat. unfortunately, yours was right beside his. 

"you think just because you're doing the laundry you're able to look through a man's prized possessions-!"

your jaw drops, "it was near the sink, haechan! i don't want to look at the checkered pattern on your boxers when i brush my teeth. i don't want it near my face either." 

haechan groans yet again, running a hand through his hair in frustration before turning back to the computer, a blank document opened up in front of him.

despite gathering findings, interviewing healthcare workers and serving the public alongside frontline staff, he had deleted every attempt at writing.

there's a rumble from the bathroom, perhaps from your upset stomach or the choked pipe, but sometimes they sounded too similar he couldn't tell it apart. haechan stifles a laugh when there's a "fuck!" echoing behind the door, though unsure if he should help you or not.

when haechan hears another crash, he comes running without hesitation with a face morphed into furrowed eyebrows and a tilt of the head.

"don't just stand there, you moron!" 

haechan snaps out of his daze to assist you off the floor, swiftly helping you even more off the floor as he carries you to the bed with a stiff one arm. you notice his other hand hanging awkwardly, probably not knowing what to do with it before you feel the soft sheets under your butt.

he gets to work within a minute, fishing for an ointment and some bandages his mother forced him to bring. he remembers it as he always has: a caring mother looking out for her son, maybe a little too much sometimes. 

haechan is thankful for his mother, now, for the stray bandages laying around in his pouch.

you watch in silence as he cleans the cut with alcohol, wincing when his hand hadn't even touched your skin.

"my hand isn't even on your skin yet! jeez, calm down." 

you shake your head, holding onto his bicep to halt his arm, "just use water, please."

exhaling in exasperation, you wonder if you've pissed him off tenfold when he leaves for the bathroom with a side-eyed glance, though not hostile.

"problematic," haechan whispers, dabbing a wet cloth over the wound carefully before applying the ointment and securing the bandages. 

"your words contradict your actions so much, haechan. i never know what you're thinking." sighing, you pull your leg away from his hold after he's done with the bandages, making your way to the bathroom and leaving him in his thoughts.

"why do you want to know?"

haechan gets silence; the lock of the bathroom audibly turns to signal another wall put up between the two of you. with another frustrated groan, the boy plops down on the chair to work on his article with the right words forming in his mind.

even if he was the one who asked, he wasn't sure if he was ready to tell you.

[day 13]

"stranger things is freaking me the fuck out, man!" haechan whispered, ignoring your pleads and groans to continue writing. 

"haechan! give me the damn laptop! i don't even know why you brought an HDMI cable when it doesn't work with the television system here!"

"well, we got one that matches it, didn't we?" he said, eyes peeled to the screen that showed the young boy, will, in the upside-down.

"you mean you did!" you shoved him, ready to disconnect the devices before haechan held you back, clearly entranced by the next sequence of eleven being able to see will in a pool of salt. 

"ugh, god, i don't even know why people watch the show!" you spill with sourness, knowing the show was praised for its excellent acting and writing.

haechan raises an eyebrow, turning to you with a strangely slow speed. 

"stranger things have received multiple awards, and you didn't give any other reason. are you scared?"

when you struggle to find words, haechan laughs at his revelation, hiding his pearly whites behind his hand as he continues to make fun of you.

"yeah yeah, i'm scared! so what?" 

"'oh haechan! oh no~ i'm terrified, would you care to provide some comfort?' jeez, don't worry, man, i'll protect you." there's a cheeky glimmer in his eyes and a cocky smirk on his face which you very much want to wipe off with the disinfectant in the toilet.

"it's not all that bad, c'mon! give it a-" turning back to the tv, the sudden attack of the demogorgon lashing out at the camera has the male screaming, hiding behind your body in fear.

"you were saying, mr superman?" you deadpan, unlatching his arms around your waist as you sink deeper into the sheets with your phone in hand.

[day 17]

haechan thrashes in his sleep, almost knocking the wine glass you had in your hands when he crosses over the pillow barrier you made. 

"what in the hell-" you winced, keeping an eye on the male should he have any more outbursts that would ruin both wine night and the stuff you were working on for the article. 

with tipsy hands, your keyboard keys unconsciously write out a letter of disdain and confusion regarding haechan, the boy sleeping next to you with a cute drooling face and curly hair.

with beautiful tan skin like that, you wondered why he didn't model instead. with a voice as impressive as his, you wondered why he didn't sign a contract. with natural hosting capabilities, you wondered why didn't fucking get the place of a talk show host. 

because man, he can get pretty bothersome sometimes.

[day 20]

the next few days pass by with a breeze.

despite not knowing how the current pandemic will turn out, you find haechan more bearable, his habits being dumped in the past with a wave of a hand.

petty arguments occur, of course, until one of you brushes off the matter like nothing.

today was one of the days you won't back down.

there's worry evident on your face, eyes scanning through every last document on the stupid laptop. fingers travel fast over the keyboard as the realisation slowly dawns on you. 

with slumped shoulders, you take a deep breath before turning to the male.

"what do you mean you accidentally deleted my article? i know we're sharing the damn laptop, but we established that you stay on your files and i stay on mine."

the other waved his hand, "i did not touch any of your files, (y/n), i'm not sure what happened."

"how could you not know? what the hell? i had good content on it, but now i have to spend more hours reorganising the news and interview answers and everything else in my notes. thanks, lee haechan."

"maybe if you weren't so caught up in me trying to sabotage your place in the publication team, then you would've believed me." he shrugged, taking a seat on the one bed like nothing.

you scoffed, arms crossing across your body. "funny how you mention sabotage because a villain never reveals their motive. that's why you came with me, didn't you?"

haechan stuck his tongue out to the side of his mouth, eyes blinking and rolling like an 8-ball that it sickened you to the core.

"villain? i'm the villain?"

"was i not clear?" you hiss, stepping closer to the male.

"no, make it more precise, please. i wanna hear it word for word. spit it out, coward."

with every word, you plunged your finger into his chest, looking deep into his eyes. "you're set out to take my place for department editor, where you know i'm best at."

"and that department would be...?" he crossed his arms, looking down at you with scorn you wished you could slap off his face.

"the..." you gulp with his face all up in yours, eyes boring as he awaits your answer, no doubt losing confidence at your realisation.

"the world depart...ment? you love to travel, right?" you trail off, biting your lip in anxiety when you remember how he was on the plane. you don't exactly remember whether he was more excited or scared.

"wrong! try again."

"politics?" you propose.

haechan's face contorts into disbelief, with his mouth twisted with perplex and eyebrows furrowed. "me? politics?"

your mouth runs dry at the roadblock you've faced, and as that annoying, stupid smirk grows, your hatred for him increases by the charts.

"naming departments i'd rather die than join, running your mouth, accusing me of deleting your files..." haechan shakes his head dramatically, rolling his eyes and letting out a fat sigh.

"you think i wanna be stuck here with your infuriating ass? god, you're so entitled, aren't you? aren't you?!"

"talking like you own the place, talking like you're the only one in this world, talking like- mhfh-"

within three angry steps, you were across the room.

within three booming steps, your hands were on his face.

within three significant steps, you were kissing lee haechan.

"you never learn to shu..." with horror, you're brought back from the trance with widened eyes.

"oh, god, sorry. what. what the hell. what the fuck?" you whisper, pushing the boy away with both hands in a panic, trying to highlight your scorn for him by wiping your lips on your sleeve.

had you liked it?

the other scurried to the balcony in a frenzy while you collected yourself in the bathroom, although no amount of water could calm your nerves. 

with shaky words in bed, you both agreed to never talk about it again.

[day 25]

"hey, i can see your damn annotations on my article, (y/n). will you stop it?" haechan whines, making you second guess if he was joking or not.

for the nth time that day, you roll your eyes and proceed to sip from your cup of gin tonic that haechan desperately wanted you to try. it was... a refreshing taste, but hell, you wouldn't drink this even if it was the last beverage on earth.

"i'm just giving my feedback, be thankful i didn't bring up that stupid kiss five days ago. bleugh." 

haechan falls quiet at that, fingers lingering over the keyboard as he typed out some note with the speed of a sloth's. 

"hey, call me donghyuck. that's my actual name," he mumbles, glancing at you through his bangs while he awaits your reply.

"donghyuck? is haechan an alias?"

the boy shrugs, "i don't know, maybe. my friends gave it to me when i was younger, and i just stuck with it."

"full sun? your friend gave it to you, sure." you grin with a gesture of your hand, almost spilling the gin in the clear glass before breaking into small laughter with the other.

[day 28]

"hey! hey, what the hell?" you whisper, feeling the boy huddle up to you in lightning speed. 

"what is wrong with you?" you whisper-shout, nudging him off your body as his phone screen remains as the only thing illuminating his face.

"sorry, i- i was watching stranger things while i was shitting and after i cleaned up... i heard something and bolted out of there."

"so now you're butt naked? hyuck, ew!" you groan, thankful for the sheets that were covering your body and his junk. his reluctance to get off you didn't seem to bother you as much as earlier, but you still wished he wasn't literally naked against you.

"go put on your underwear, you big baby. i'll be here when you come out. no demogorgon is going to come out, for real."

"no no, i was watching season two and it was that big shadow thingy that freaked me out. can't you feel this poor boy shivering?" haechan sighed, eyes never leaving the corridor that led to the bathroom.

"i can, and i also can feel your dick. please get dressed, or you're sleeping on the floor," you mumble, pulling the sheets to cover your freezing body.

[day 31] 

your face hits something soft, cuddling into it even further because of its warmth before you realise there was only one other thing that would be warm in the room.

haechan.

your breath shakes, and your eyes widen as you pull yourself away from his embrace. your subtle movement leaves him thrashing around, though, and his arms tighten around your figure slowly and endearingly.

gulping, you will your hands to stay in their place, opting to freeze to death although there are hints of heat crawling onto your face.

when you wake up, you find that his hand's in yours and maybe you were searching for one wrong thing. an anomaly, an exception. it fit in yours perfectly, however, his tanned skin glowing lightly under the rays of sun filtering through the curtains.

you hoped he didn't realise the small shift of your fingers as they enclosed around his hand.

[day 32]

"what are you doing out here?" haechan asked quietly, peeking around the sliding door before joining you on the chilly balcony. it wasn't much, but it was still different and refreshing from the old, stagnant aircon air that was blowing in the hotel room.

"can't sleep," you whisper. you had your arms around your figure cautiously, as if it could protect you from all the bad, evil and terror in the world. at this point, you weren't sure what was it that you were feeling, but it sure didn't involve entertaining haechan's teasing. 

luckily, he bit his tongue from making the usual snarky remarks.

"it's two in the morning, what's up?" 

you shake your head in reply, watching the empty streets as the last light in the apartment across you switches off. sure, at two in the morning, pavements were dusty clean, and the birds were sleeping, but there would always be younger boys smoking along the road, or a drunken group of friends laughing about a past memory. 

now that the pandemic forced everyone into their homes, everything was pretty much dead. there wasn't that excitement you felt when you saw a late-night kiss shared between two lovers or the snug hug of a child to his father who was working overtime that day.

"nothing's up, hyuck, it's fine. you can get back to sleep if you want."

maybe today you two were the one causing the ruckus this time, though. haechan may have let his words slipped, and at that moment, you knew you regretted that bloom in your chest when his lips met yours.

"you're so hard to read, (y/n). i want you to be able to trust me, tell me what's going on."

"why do you wanna know anyway? so you can expose me of my bad habits and weak points?" you whisper, eyes trained on the flickering lamppost a few yards away.

"there you go again! again with the sabotage?" haechan scoffed, exiting the small space and stepping back into the room of mixed emotions.

"is this just about your feelings for me?" 

haechan laughed, "my feelings? might i remind you that you were the one who kissed me full on the lips twelve days ago? what was that all about? i wanna talk about it, even though we said we wouldn't! i wanna talk about why you hate me so much. i wanna talk about why your emotions are so contradictive!" 

your mouth hangs open as you sputter out a heated reply, but instead gets interrupted with a knock on the door. 

"keep quiet, you damn teenagers! i don't need your petty fights at two in the morning!" with padded feet, the guest returns to his room and slams the door to emphasise his complaint. swallowing, your mind goes blank as it focuses only on one question.

"why do you want to know so much lee haechan? what are you gaining out of this? if it's not sabotaging, then what is it?!" you whisper, standing your ground as with the first argument. 

your throat is clenched up, and your fists are balled up tightly with nails digging into your palm. your heartbeat races like a fast car and your breathing's laboured in the cold room. there's no movement for a second, though they feel like minutes on end as haechan struggles to answer your question.

"what is it, lee donghyuck?" you cry out again, the sparkle in your eyes shining brightly from the tears of your never-ending dispute. he wished it was from the moonlight, instead. he wished the two of you were laughing over the rim of wine glasses and sharing the mischievous glimmer of the moon in your eyes.

"it's nothing. don't mind it." the other turns to catch up on sleep, leaving you to bite your lip.

"now you're doing it, now you're the one doing it. just tell me, you dumbass!" you mumble, pulling on his pyjama sleeve and tugging you to him.

"i like you, okay! it's out there now, i like you a lot, but you make it feel like a crime to do it," haechan whispers, "whatever. fuck this."

"no- what- no, we'll talk this out." you propose, adjusting your grip on his wrist with the curl of your fingers.

the male shakes his head and snatches his arm back, "no, forget it, and i'd prefer if you left me alone, (y/n)."

even with the warmth of his body next to yours, your body felt frozen and stiff. even with the thick duvet cover over you, you felt out of place in the stale hotel room, with colour becoming black and white, they merge into grey as the moonlight shone without a care for your problems.

there's action on the balcony when your eyes flutter open in the morning, noticing the quiet way haechan observes those rushing to work as well as social distancing officers making their rounds.

his eyes look hopeful and youthful, different from the tired ones the night before, or rather, this morning. you hadn't forgotten the angry neighbour banging on the door, and you definitely hadn't forgotten about how much you've wounded haechan this morning.

with a soft knock, you let him know of your presence and you just miss the way his eyes soften at your bed hair and messy appearance. his gaze turns hard in a second as he turns back to the apartment across yours, the balcony door showing your reflection of how hesitant you were.

haechan wished he could take your hands in his and accept your apology in a heartbeat, but he stayed seated and waited for whatever you wanted to say.

"don't run off, please." there's a shameful hand on his shoulders, and he's dying to get up when he sees your downcast eyes in the reflection across the street.

"i was too caught up in getting department head that i... didn't consider other possibilities. even the possibility of you uhm... liking me. it's still a weird concept to me, especially with how much we bicker."

"i'm sorry i didn't stay to hear out your feelings and rather, i just talked over you instead. i'm not sure if you want to accept this or not, but i want to open up—about this, about your feelings and... i don't know how much i've masked my emotions, i just know that we need to communicate."

the doorbell interrupts your apology, but you internally thank the housekeeping for bringing breakfast for the two of you.

with silence over breakfast, you weren't sure how the other felt as he scoffed down the croissant and almost burned his tongue with the coffee he ordered.

[day 33] 

the boy barely watches the television and instead, reads over the article you were working on. seeing as it was already there when he logged on, he skimmed through it out of curiosity, finding that you were rephrasing the messy typos and sentences frantically on your notes.

haechan never forgot the way you were typing away on the laptop, eyes reading and rereading the sentences to make sure they made sense, to make sure they were clear to the reader. 

the argument had taken a toll on you, too. he sees it in the way your eyes sink when your words turn out choppy and lacking, he sees it in the way you lug your body to the bathroom after a late night, he sees it in the way you struggle to hold your smile while attending an interview. 

'haechan. you confuse me. i'm not...' the note below it trails off, piquing his curiosity at what it had in store.

'haechan.' big and bold letters it wrote, with a few dozen question marks below it. your writing skills shine through even in an informal note about your self-proclaimed rival, each line prompting the other to read more.

'you confuse me. i'm not sure what you're at but, it doesn't seem natural for you to tag along with someone you hate, right? that's what i was thinking too.'

'jeez, i remember hating when suyeon told me you were coming along. i didn't believe her one bit until she showed me your plane ticket and the hotel rooms next to each other. god, and when i came here, it was a day of interviewing before the damn government decided to close flights and force us into a room together.'

'i heard that other people had to be separated. i didn't know why we were the unlucky two that had to be put in a room together. i wished we didn't, almost. of course, you annoyed me when we first moved in. hogging the tv to no end, leaving your dirty underwear everywhere, running your mouth just like at our workplace.'

'i couldn't take it, maybe. sure, my brother has similar antics, but there was just something about you that just set me off, you know? i wouldn't have thought it was the opposite, or at least, i think so.'

'i'm counting the days. day 17 and i'm not sure why i feel this bubbling feeling inside me. of course, there's anger—i'm sure it's there, but there's also this other thing i get whenever i look at you.'

'my heart clenches up, and my hands become clammy, but it couldn't be a crush, right? i would've wasted my breath shouting, and my strength whacking your shoulder.' that makes haechan chuckle and look over at you where the soft light dances over your face.

'and then i started imagining. how would your arms wrap around me? how would your infuriating laughter, which somehow turned out to be so contagious, feel in the crook of my neck? yikes, that was cheesy.'

'what would it feel like if we fell in love for one night? where would you bring me and what would we eat? would we make out in your car like unruly teenagers?' 

'what would it be like to love you? it's dumb, isn't it? i don't know. i've liked this bickering thing we had going on, and it's amusing to see you one-up me. i'm not sure if i want that to change and i'm not sure if you want us to, either.'

'maybe i'm wrong, and i'm the only one in this thing. this is so stupid, writing while he's sitting next to me. i'll regret this, maybe. goodnight.'

haechan sighs, closing the device in thought, confused at the words he wasn't exactly supposed to read. had you done this on purpose? he was sharing the laptop with you...

the boy brushed it off, placing the laptop on the vanity before adjusting your side of the duvet, hoping he could find the right words. with hesitant steps, he keeps to his side of the bed, thinking, thinking, thinking. 

when he couldn't no more, haechan fell into the spell of slumber in the comfortable hotel room.

[day 34]

"tea?" he asks from the bathroom as the door clicks behind you, returning from the short hotel walk with a new keychain hanging from your sling bag.

"yeah sure, thanks." 

the water runs as he fills up the kettle as the constant whir of the aircon and the conversation on the television keeps you company in the vast quietness of the room. 

you weren't sure if you should say anything, but when you saw the dishevelled appearance of your roommate, you knew you had to bring up the argument and apology.

"haechan, about our... feelings. do you want to talk about them?" you whispered, a reply reaching your ears in the form of his spoon against the porcelain mug.

haechan hands you the drink wordlessly, sitting on the chair at the vanity before sipping cautiously at the tea. there are unexchanged glances between the two of you before he sighs at your expectant hand tapping the sheets.

"i think it's about time we did," he mumbled, dragging the laptop off the wooden table with anxiety. the other opened it without saying anything, catching you by surprise when the mouse hovers over your note.

"hae- donghyuck! no! what the hell?"

he holds up a hand and clicks on it anyway, making your heart drop to your stomach as he turned the device towards you.

"read the bottom." haechan whispers as you pull the laptop closer to you, settling it on your lap as he observed your expressions carefully.

'i read it, i'm sorry.' you look at him and lift up a hand to prepare to whack him, a defeated sigh escaping you before you carried on.

'was it wrong to read it? of course, and i cannot apologise more for doing shit like that when we still have unsolved tension between us in this small ass room. it was incorrect, but.'

'do you feel the same as me? is bickering all we have to do? why can't we work anything out? they're the questions i keep asking myself after i read your letter.'

'i guess i was too caught up in the fight and not wanting to be the loser that i... can't deny that i've never thought about wanting to get to know you, even if you were that sought out to be my destined enemy.'

'when we fought earlier, you kissed me. i know we said not to mention it, but, uhm, it was good. i liked it. i'm not sure if the reason why you did it was because of the reason you mentioned in the note, but at the time, i assumed it was to shut me up. i thought something would happen after, though you pushed me away and apologised right away.'

'it was a far off dream that i had, but i think it was after i bandaged your foot. you said that you didn't know what was going on in my mind, and i told you.'

'it was like, i was granted an insight into an alternate world, another universe where you didn't feel the strain, where you legitimately assumed i was going for your position.'

'you scoffed when i confessed, right then and there, on day 9. i was counting, too, and it was a scary, confusing dream. i think that's why i held it off as long as i could until your words puzzled and angered me further because you just didn't get it.'

'you scoffed and told me to get lost, pushing on my shoulders where we fought on the balcony for everyone to see. you never spoke to me, you never mentioned my article nor the interviews. we never joked over wine, and we always kept to our side of the bed.'

'i was convinced that heaven wanted me to stay away from you and your heart. maybe it was broken too many times, and you had someone up there looking out for you.'

'i feel like i'm copying off the textbook of some greek mythology starter pack, but i'm for real! no kidding.' you smiled, looking at him with nervous eyes at the small joke he put in.

'i guess whoever put that dream in my sleep really wanted us not to be together because i think i would've told you i liked you on the spot itself. i let my conscious get the best of me.'

'i know this is a lazy way of conveying my feelings, and i wished i could do it with words, but i feel like you wouldn't believe me otherwise. i rushed it this morning when you went on your morning walk around the hotel and when you let me know of your stroll in a soft voice, i wanted nothing more than to get you in my arms as we wake up to the housekeeping service.'

'i didn't want any more tension between us, and i didn't want to be interrupted by your alarm while we avoid each other more. it hurts seeing you escape the room in haste. you said it was weird for me to tag along with someone i hate, too, and that someone was you. i guess you found out why.'

looking up, you found him right in front of you, mouth dry from his reply to your letter. with a gulp, you leaned forward to meet his lips halfway.

"i'm sorry to whoever's up there," he whispers, prompting a grin and a laugh out of you.

the laptop is forgotten on the bed as haechan situates himself over you, clutching your shoulder gently while his lips move quickly, fast to make up for lost time. 

"wait wait, wait, you're not playing me, are you?" you mumble in return, reluctantly pulling away while witnessing the way his eyes soften at your guard still up. haechan shakes his head forlornly, tongue pressing up against the side of his mouth nervously.

"no, i'm not, (y/n)," he says quietly with as much sincerity he can muster, removing his hand from your shoulder with a forced smile. 

"okay." there's a shakiness to your voice, but when you bring his lips back to yours, it gives you a rush of confidence. your skin is burning up, and your hands can't stop wandering as his lips capture yours, repeatedly moving against yours like a trance.

you grant haechan access to your mouth with a whimper, melting into his embrace as his arms wrap tighter around your figure. his eagerness lingers when he pushes forward, straddling your lap as his leg nudges the laptop.

"wait, hyuck, wait, the laptop!" you joke, placing the device on the floor before getting back into the kiss with just as much fervour. within a minute or so, the other breaks away to say the words you so hated to hear:

"we... we need to talk. we can't just kiss the fight off, although i very much like to," haechan murmurs the last part, making you stifle a smile. 

you nod quickly, repeating the word "okay" like a robot. your hands naturally travel from his arms down to his fingers, and you clutch them like your life depended on it.

"we have... established, that i like you, correct?" haechan whispers, scooting closer as his tea-ridden breath surrounds you. from here, you could even smell the buttered croissant he ate this morning.

it made you smile, something simple as that.

"why- why are you laughing (y/n)?" he asks anxiously, eyes darting to find the reason why you found this so funny.

"no. no no no, i'm thinking of... the croissant you ate just now, and," you sigh, resting your head on his broad shoulder. 

"i'm thinking of the way your eyes light up when you show me the articles you idolise so much, and i'm thinking of the way you cuddle up to me whenever we watch stranger things." 

"i'm thinking of the way you thought i wouldn't give you a chance, even though i've been pondering on the same thing as you. i'm thinking of the things that make up lee haechan, lee donghyuck. yes, you like me, and yes i like you, but i guess i haven't told you the reason."

"i hated you, i really did. i found every reason to convince my mind to hate you. gaining trust, signing up for events you didn't know shit about, sucking up to the seniors, stealing my friends when they didn't know your personality. the personality i didn't even want to know because i was too busy in my little bubble."

"assuming you'd want to get department head was the cherry on top, because why else would you want to tag along? that was the factor that convinced me and confirmed my suspicions from day one."

you grunt in opposition, clearly not liking the truth that was spilling from your lips. haechan deserved to know, however. you kept your eyes trained on his lap where his hands were holding yours in support, crumbling from the blindness that caused your hatred. 

"so from then, the plane ride, immigration, the cab to the interview place, the cab back, the hotel room, my hatred for you boiled over." you listed, voice breaking as you looked haechan in the eye. 

"it was stupid of me to assume, to assume the worst of you when i didn't even know you. i wasn't even sure why i felt so bitter looking at you, but the way you acted, the way you whined, worked me up so much that i figured that was how you were."

"now when i'm sitting here with the curtains drawn, i can see why you're so attractable and easy to talk to and easy-going and bright that my friends keep talking to you."

"i can see why the seniors turn to you because you're reliable and hardworking without uttering a single word."

"i can see why you wanted to hop on this flight with me because you're always curious about the world and how you can expand your skill set."

and as you said word after word, haechan observes you with a soothing hand against your forearms. his eyes shine for a different reason, for the lost time he could've had if the two of you didn't have this massive barrier. a massive barrier that's been up for the longest time. 

brick by brick, the wall is being torn down. as you hold haechan's face in the stillness of the room, you feel closer to him than you've ever felt and his tears match your frustrated ones. 

choking on sobs, delayed apologies were all you could whisper.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, really. we fought so bad that day, and i was so goddamn insensitive..." you sigh, swallowing a lump when his hand reached up to wipe the tears. with a blocked nose, you breathe shakily as housekeeping interrupts the moment. 

you nod towards the door as he stood up slowly to reveal the same housekeeping girl. she cleaned up the bathroom and wardrobe quietly as the two of you stood awkwardly in the small space. she had left the sheets since everyone was practically stuck in, anyway.

haechan nudges you toward the door with a shove, shooting the same housekeeping girl a small smile and a bow as an apology to the previous run-in.

"he confessed his feelings?" she inquired softly, noticing the tear marks on your face.

you bit your lip, "yeah."

"that's good, he's finally not a coward." she laughs, folding the used towels and placing them with her.

you leaned against the door, asking for an explanation with your puzzled look.

"he was someone i liked, before. we had classes back in high school. it was just a dumb crush, honestly." the housekeeping girl shrugs, resting her head on her fist in thought.

"i think he liked me, and i did too, but we didn't do much except for exchange looks and flirt because both of us were just too scared." she shakes her head and adjusts the disinfectant spray bottle, fidgeting with the nozzle.

"i'm glad he had enough courage to admit his feelings." 

nodding along to her statement, she bids you farewell as her figure fades with each step, leaving you with a sense of calmness to the end of this situation.

[day 38]

"is... is this okay?" haechan asks, arm hovering over your body while waiting for your confirmation. you smile and nod, sinking into his side as you venture in the third season of stranger things together. 

"don't you think we should be working on our articles?" you whisper, looking up at him from where you were with raised eyebrows.

the boy opens and closes his mouth in thought, gesturing to the television with an exaggerated expression. 

"stranger things, ma'am."

you click your tongue and sigh with a smile, turning back to the show as you try to relax for an online interview in a few hours.

[day 39]

"what do you say about my set-up?" haechan nudges you, proud of the hangout area he prepared on the balcony. although small, he had no trouble making it look comfortable. 

with a smile, you pop open the wine to celebrate the last scheduled interview for the trip, clinking glasses with haechan in the setting sun.

the country you were supposed to return to was slowly opening up flights for those stranded overseas and as refreshing as a different environment was, you missed home and the warmness of it.

you missed the office and your desk. hell, you even missed the mediocre coffee from the pantry.

with the last of the wine finishing, haechan pours half into your glass and the other into his, clinking one last time before you one-shot the beverage.

the high of the alcohol is gradually brought down by the mellow atmosphere and colours of twilight. as pink and orange cross over on the horizon, haechan mumbles a low "c'mere" to you in the darkness.

you hum in response and get up from your seat, bringing a pillow with you as haechan shifts to make space. sinking naturally into his arms, you sigh while you try to contain a smile full of content.

"this is nice," you admit, the corners of your lips disobeying your command, prompting you to shoot him a smile. haechan nods against your hair, a comfortable arm around your waist while you trace the tan skin of his arm.

the other taps your waist repeatedly, turning in response as he whispers out a question that makes your heart melt.

"can i kiss you?" you grin, slipping a hand around his neck and pulling him in right away. haechan's caught by surprise, laughing into your lips and striving to savour the moment as much as he could. 

a shout from across the hotel distracts you from the kiss. looking up, you realise it was the apartment resident opposite you shooting you a 'rock on' gesture.

"you guys are not fighting anymore! congrats!" you both stifle a snort as you wave back to the resident, sighing in relief when their balcony door slides shut.

"should we go inside, m'lady?" haechan giggles, replying in the form of a nod, cleaning up the area while you head in.

[day 41]

"i didn't think they'd be letting flights in so early," you mumble, folding your clothes neatly as your vision shifts to haechan... shoving his fair share of apparel into his luggage.

"donghyuck... what the hell?" you roll your eyes, shoving the boy softly as you took over the task at hand. switching personalities almost immediately, haechan fakes an interview segment with exaggerated tones.

"see, everyone, this is how you convince someone to do the work for you," the boy lays on the bed with a satisfied expression, "now i don't have to do anyth- ow!"

"if we ever live together, maybe i should punish you by doing the laundry and then folding it," you grunt, working at the speed faster than you expected while you fold shirt after shirt.

"are you proposing we move in together?" haechan peeks through an open eye, curiosity dripping from his tone. he tried to feign nonchalance but awaiting your answer felt like a weight on his heart.

your next words lifted that weight, a seemingly invisible force bringing his upper body off the bed as he stares at you in shock.

"maybe, not now but... in the future, maybe," you mumble the last part, focusing on the clothes to prevent the male from seeing the fluster on your face.

"for real?" haechan sits up, biting his lip to contain his excitement as your confirmation. 

"we'll be all stupidly domestic and shit, and i'll say i love you five years from now before you go off for work if you want that and stuff," your voice goes lower and quieter, especially towards the end, biting off way more than you could chew.

"aw! i love you too!" haechan gushes, bringing you into an embrace as your hands go limp, scrambling to explain your emphasis on the 'future'.

"d-donghyuck, i meant the future, not now..." you manage to spit out, hoping you need not answer his queries any more. your mind blanks out at the current situation, wishing you hadn't said those dumb things.

he grins into your neck, "i know, i'm just answering for future me."

you groan and escape the hug with a roll of your eyes, "yuck, too cheesy!" the boy just lets out a laugh, watching the way you fold his clothes despite your initial annoyance.

[day 42]

suyeon switches between the two of you in disbelief, finger crooked at the ambiguity of "we like each other".

"wha-" suyeon doesn't get the chance to finish the sentence before you shoot her a thumbs up, grabbing haechan by the arm and your stuff with the other.

you were happy to leave the office after a quick debrief since you two had reported to the office right after arriving at the airport, relieved when you heard he'd spare a few more days for your articles to be cleaned up.

"so, (y/n), what would you like to do now?" haechan looks at you through the reflective material of the elevator, observing the nervous wringing of your fingers.

you're glad for the material protecting your face because there's a smile that you struggle to keep as his soft, gentle voice carries through the quiet space.

the anxiety ends when the lift sounds, prompting your eyes to trail down his arm. your hand moves on its own accord, grabbing his last finger with yours as you proceed into the lift sheepishly, not missing the way haechan's eyes show his bright smile behind the mask.

"maybe i'll get to know you more, lee donghyuck."

haechan lets out a gasp, "have you not learned about me enough? scandalous." 

you feign a punch in his direction, the luggage beside you tripping over its wheels due to your swift movement. the only response you get is a giggle from the other as he tightens his pinky around yours, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek right above your face mask just as the elevator doors open.

"man, i really do want to punch you now," you mutter as you let haechan lead you, wanting nothing more than to rest in the arms of your enemy-turned-friend? enemy-turned-someoneyoulike?

you weren’t exactly sure.

he doesn't answer during the walk to the main road, nor the ride back to your home, the only constant thing being the way he admires your profile in the taxi, shrugging when you counter with a playful "what?". 

"nothing," haechan grins.

[there are more days to come]

sure, day forty-one may not have been the day you fell in love with haechan, nor the day where he outwardly claims you as his lover.

but, taking it slow never hurt anyone, either.

you know it in the way he tells you he can't go in unless he's invited and you see it in the way he asks if he can switch the television on while you prepare some drinks.

like the hotel, you know it in the way he asks if he can kiss you and the way he deepens his kisses with caution.

you appreciate it in the way he quickly apologises for a personal question, while visibly relaxing as you brush it off with a smile.

with hours pass, day forty-two becomes day forty-three, and haechan remains as chivalrous as always.

days pass, and you submit your articles. weeks pass, and you get to know the boy more and more. months pass, and you feel his love in the way he plays with your fingers in the dark and pulls you close under the sheets.

even if you hadn't acknowledged the love between the two of you, that note you wrote half-drunk matched the way you felt now��with how your heart clenches up and with how your grin never leaves your face with haechan around.

there are more days to come with lee haechan, lee donghyuck, even if it meant getting stuck together in a hotel room with unsaid words.

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 6: Buckshot and Tequila

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

AO3 Link

Finally, I write most of the chapter before the day I’m supposed to post it. This was mostly done on my laptop (which I’m not used to) as we just moved and my PC is barely set up, so forgive anything that looks weird or wonky. As always, I hope you enjoy. I love getting all your kind messages <3 (Also message me if you want to be on the taglist - I suppose I should be better about that!)

Summary:  You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 6, Buckshot and Tequila

Chapter Summary: Events during a new case test your ability to keep your feelings hidden, and a night out takes an unforeseen turn. 

Words: 3736

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Turns out, lying to Hotch was easier than you thought.

It helped that you were lying to yourself too, of course - that you pretended your gaze didn't linger on his form whenever he was in your vicinity, that the swell of pride in your chest when he agreed with something you said was purely professional. There were times, though, that the facade was much harder to maintain. The most recent case had been one of those times.

You had been tracking down an unsub abducting children in a rural Iowa town. Three kids had gone missing in the span of two weeks, and after Garcia matched the victimology and MO with neighboring states, it looked to be close to a dozen in the years before that. The case started off rough enough - locals refused to believe it could be one of their own, police resisted the BAU’s guidance, the usual - but it came to a head when a fourth child went missing during the investigation.

Thankfully, the team figured out the identity of the unsub relatively quickly. Reid did a geographical profile of all the locations where victims were taken and found a public health clinic that had branches in each area. Garcia cross-checked the employee records to find that only one doctor had done travel shifts at each clinic during the time the children were taken, and within minutes, you were rushing to his address.

The SUV carrying Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss arrived long enough before yours that by the time you pulled up, they were already kicking down the door and entering the home. The first thing you heard after you flung the car door open was the deafening crack of a weapon firing, and despite your lack of training with firearms, it was apparent that it was not an FBI-issue pistol.

You would never describe yourself as fragile - you couldn't be, not in this line of work. But when you registered the implications of that sound, your knees buckled, instantly bringing you down onto the dusty ground outside the farmhouse. The rest of the team sprinted in, guns drawn. You faintly registered Prentiss yelling inside, then more gunshots, but your head was ringing so loudly from the visceral panic that you couldn’t make out anything specific.

When Hotch burst back out onto the porch, you thought you might honestly sob with relief. That is, until you caught the glint of the sun in the slick, dark blood dripping down the sleeve of his suit.

That was when you puked.

Something about the sight of Aaron Hotchner bleeding felt so wrong that even as you struggled to your feet and stepped over the pile of sick you left in the dirt, even as you got closer and saw the rivulets of blood drip down to his fingertips and dot the wooden floors of the porch, you felt like you were in a dream. Your mind couldn’t grasp the sudden shock of his mortality, that he could bleed, that he could die, even, and he very well might, depending on what vessels were hit. You made it up the steps, only managing to call out his name - his first name - your throat still burning from bile. Despite the chaos of the current moment, he still whipped his head around at the sound of that, as if hearing the name Aaron desperately falling from your lips was more attention-grabbing than the rest of the team gathering around him trying to stem the bleeding.

“It looks worse than it is,” said Rossi, peering through the holes in Hotch’s mangled sleeve. “It was just buckshot, and he barely hit you. Nothing a few stitches won’t fix.”

He turned out to be right, thank god, and later that afternoon, Hotch was freshly bandaged and sitting across from you on the return flight to Quantico.

So, yeah, the “lying to yourself” thing wasn’t going so well at that moment. Hotch was absorbed in paperwork while the rest of the team napped - because of course he was; even being shot didn’t sway his apparently relentless refusal to relax - and each time he winced at the movement of his arm, your vice grip around your chest tightened a little more.

He must have sensed you staring, because he looked up, frown softening slightly as he saw the concern on your face.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” he assured you with a half smile.

Teetering on an emotional precipice, too scared to respond for fear of falling over the edge, you went back to your reading. After a few minutes of listening to him write while not turning a single page in your book, he set his pen down and took a breath.

“You were screaming my name,” he said, quietly, despite you two being the only ones awake.

“What?”

“Earlier,” he clarified, “when we went into the house. I could hear you outside, yelling my name.”

You looked at him, incredulous. “Of course I did. I heard the shotgun go off. Clearly,” you gestured at his arm, “I had a reason to be worried.”

He shook his head and cleared his throat, as if you didn’t understand the question. “Dave and Emily were with me. Any of us could have gotten hit. You only yelled for me.”

Oh.

You shrugged. “You’re the team leader. It’s my instinct to call for you when something goes wrong."

It was a lie, and a bad one at that, but Hotch gave you an unreadable look and let the subject drop.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and when you finally made it back to your apartment, you had no plans other than to sleep off the stress of the case and the embarrassment of Hotch calling your actions into question. Garcia, however, wasn't about to let that happen.

BAU-tiful People Group Chat

Garcia: *added You to the conversation*

Garcia: Ok, my lovely children, I know you’re all tired, but I miss your faces, so I’ll see u at Whimsy tonight at 9! Notice I didn’t use a question mark bc it is NOT a question!

You knew from overhearing the team talk that Whimsy was a bar downtown they liked to frequent, but you’d never been invited before. Despite your overwhelming exhaustion, the idea of going out with the team, of finally feeling accepted by them, was enough to make you amenable to the concept. It may have seemed insignificant on the surface, but Garcia adding you to their group chat was the biggest welcome gesture you’d received yet.

Morgan: Only if you wear that dress you know I like ;)

You lived for the day they would realize they were actually flirting with each other instead of just pretending to.

Prentiss: Garcia… you’re killing me… but you know I’ll be there.

JJ: Contacting the babysitter as we speak.

Morgan: Fuck yeah!!! Pretty Boy, you in?

Reid: Can’t we ever go somewhere quiet?

As the group chimed in with various iterations of, “Shut up, Reid,” you hesitantly typed out a text to confirm your attendance. You were excited, of course, but nervous to be the new kid at their favorite hangout. After today's events, though, the desire not to be sober won out over nerves.

You: I’ll be there! Thanks for the invite!

Rossi: Hope you kids are ready for me to drink you under the table, as usual.

Morgan: Eyyy, you KNOW we party hard! See y’all tonight.

____________

Turns out, Morgan was not exaggerating. Not even a little bit. By the time you arrived, 15 minutes late, everyone looked to be at least 3 shots deep. Garcia ran over to greet you, squealing, and wrapped you in a suffocating hug.

“I’m so glad you came! What do you drink? Tequila? I’ll grab the next round!”

You laughed and confirmed that tequila sounded great, and as she scurried off to the bar with Morgan on her heels, you had a chance to look around.

The atmosphere of the club surprised you - it was all glass and steel and modernity, packed with people dancing to something with intense bass - not the low-key joint you’d pictured the team wanting to unwind at. But as you watched JJ, Prentiss, and Rossi cheer on Reid as he threw back a shot, doubling over in hysterics as he coughed and sputtered at the taste, you realized that this place was just loud and energetic enough to keep them from thinking about anything other than work. In that way, you definitely saw the appeal.

“I come bearing shots!” Garcia yelled as her and Morgan made it back to the table. “Grab yours… here we go- whoops! Alright, everyone got theirs?”

She turned to you, grinning behind a pair of hot pink spectacles. “Cheers not ONLY to rescuing four kidnapped children alive, but also to our lovely intern and her first Whimsy outing!”

The team erupted in cheers and you smiled back, downing the tequila. You chatted with the group while Garcia ordered more drinks, and then more drinks, and soon you felt a pleasant buzz filling your head.

“Morgan, you better ask me to dance right now before I go find another man to do the job,” Garcia said with a wink in his direction.

Morgan grinned and mock-bowed, holding out a hand for her to take, and led her off to the dancefloor.

“Should we join them?” JJ asked around the table.

“Someone’s gotta make sure they don’t do anything worth getting kicked out for,” Prentiss shot back. You giggled and followed the girls, leaving Rossi and Reid behind at the table in the midst of a heated debate about childhood brain development that you couldn’t even hope to comprehend.

Not long after you started dancing, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder and turned around, looking up into the stunning green eyes of a man who looked to be about your age. It was hard to really tell what he looked like in the dim lighting, but by the way Prentiss was giving you a thumbs up and mouthing, “Go for it,” from your side, he was good enough for you.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked above the music. You smiled and nodded in confirmation, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to his hips.

He knew how to move, that was for certain. He ground against your backside lightly, snaking his hands around your stomach. You weren’t used to this kind of thing - dancing with random men at bars, letting them touch you like this - but the combination of the music and the booze and the relief at the last case being over was making you feel more free than you had in recent memory.

You exchanged grins with Morgan, who was dancing a few feet away in a much more R-rated manner with Garcia. The man behind you (whose name you didn’t know, but who cared?) leaned down to kiss your neck and you arched against him in response, reaching up to run your hand through his hair.

Throughout the song, you had rotated back to facing the table where the rest of your team was sitting. You glanced over, saw Reid and Rossi still deep in discussion, along with another man in a black button-up with a very familiar side profile and-

Hotch.

Hotch was here, and as if the powers that be were insistent upon proving to you that the opposite of serendipity existed, at the exact moment you had that realization, he turned and made direct eye contact with you. Drunk, wearing a skintight dress, a random man grinding on your ass, and staring right back at your Unit Chief at the motherfucking Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and if you had been drunker, you might have hurled tequila all over the dancefloor. Instead, you pulled away from the mystery man behind you, ignoring his shocked, “Wait!” and beelined to the bar.

“Tequila. Shot. Please, I’m sorry, just saw someone I didn’t expect to,” you blurted out to the bartender, swearing you could feel Hotch’s eyes on your back from across the club.

The bartender, probably having seen much worse, nodded in understanding and poured your drink. You gulped it down, wiped your mouth, and leaned on the bar to get your bearings.

It’s not weird. It’s not. It’s a bar, it’s outside of work hours, it’s perfectly fine that you’re buzzed and dancing and having fun. Everyone else is!

Really, it wasn’t that you were worried about your job, or even that he would judge you (he probably would, but that was unavoidable regardless of the setting), it was just that you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself for the possibility that he would come. He was in the group chat - obviously, if he had seen Garcia’s invite - but had never struck you as the social type, the kind of boss that would interact with his team outside of work.

“Did you see that Hotch is here?” Prentiss asked breathlessly, appearing at the bar beside you.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one surprised.

“I did,” you whispered back, despite the thumping music and the rowdy patrons making it logically impossible for your words to reach the table 20 feet away. “Does he usually join you guys?”

“Never,” she said, before thinking and correcting herself, “Not in years, anyways. When Haley… we used to drag him out, but we stopped after a while.”

“Why do you think he came tonight?"

She shrugged. “Who knows? Far be it from me to explain why Hotch does anything.” An idea seemed to pop in her head, and she grinned. “Maybe it’s because of you!”

“M-me?” Your reaction to the suggestion wasn’t nearly as nonchalant as you’d tried for, but Prentiss was too drunk to notice.

“Yeah, gotta help initiate the intern on her first night out, right?” She grinned and clapped you on the shoulder, then turned away to head back to the dancefloor, leaving you alone. You sighed, gathered yourself as much as you could considering the effects of the tequila, and turned around to go greet him.

“Hey, Agent Hotchner. Didn’t expect to see you tonight!”

“Yes, well. Thought I’d show up for a bit; it’s been a while.” He gave you a tight lipped smile then looked back down at his glass of whisky, the awkward energy palpable.

Probably because he just saw you basically dry-humping some random dude.

“Well, I’m glad you came! Feel free to, uh, come dance if you want! Morgan and Garcia are showing us all up,” you said, gesturing to where Morgan and Garcia were in fact drawing the attention of several onlookers.

He chuckled at that. “They’re certainly a sight to behold, aren’t they?”

You nodded in agreement and headed back to the bar, the brief conversation pointing you towards yet another drink. Talking to him was so easy , sometimes, and others it was like pulling teeth to get a human response out of him. Could you blame him, though? Your last one-on-one interaction was you basically inviting yourself over to his apartment with takeout and listening to him spill his guts about his dead wife and kid, and he probably felt uncomfortable with you after that, and then you went right to this case without any chance for things to go back to normal, and then he got shot, and oh my god, you didn’t even ask him how his arm was doing, how fucking rude can you be, dumbass? and-

“Whoops! Shit, I’m sorry!”

You looked at the person you’d just bumped into in the midst of your internal crisis.

“Hey, it’s you!”

The man you’d been dancing with earlier, now much more obviously handsome in the brighter lights of the bar area, grinned in recognition.

“Hey, I thought I’d scared you off there!”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, I’m sorry. Just saw my boss and freaked out a little bit.”

“Oh shit, your boss is here?” he asked. “That’s uncomfortable, damn. I’m sorry.”

“No worries, it’s just… yeah. Anyways. Wanna pick up where we left off?” you asked, more desperate than ever to get Hotch out of your head. If he didn’t want to see you having a wild night, he shouldn’t have come to the club.

He took your hand, looking pleased. “Lead the way.”

It really was so much easier, you thought, to let yourself feel attraction for guys like this. Uncomplicated, willing to take what you give them, no backstory to speak of. They weren’t riddled with tragic history, unattainable in both position and personality, not to mention impossible to even imagine ever returning your feelings. Guys like Cooper (you’d finally learned his name somewhere amid the grinding and groping) were easy and fun and they didn’t keep you up at night agonizing over whether that thing you said at work was impressive enough.

But then again, they didn’t give you the roller-coaster feeling in your stomach that Aaron Hotchner did every time you locked eyes.

And lock eyes you did - an increasingly frequent number of times, actually. It seemed like whenever you turned to face his direction, he was staring you down. He always went back to his conversation with Rossi and Reid, but you noticed that he seemed to get more and more pissed off with every song that played. His frown was deepened, his expression dark, and you could tell even from a distance that his knuckles were white from gripping his glass.

You shrugged it off as Hotch being Hotch - who knew what that man was thinking? And besides, you were trying to forget him, damn it. At least, that was until a particularly raunchy song came on and you were in the middle of getting your ass felt up, when you felt a hand squeeze your shoulder and whip you around, bringing you face-to-face with your boss himself.

“Hey, what’s going on? Is something wrong?” you asked, utterly bewildered as to why he was interrupting you.

He ignored you, instead staring down Cooper, who very quickly decided Hotch wasn’t one to fuck with and walked away.

“Hotch! Is there a case? Should I grab the others?”

He shook his head. “Can you come with me, please?”

Perplexed, you acquiesced (not that you had much of a choice, with the way he was gripping your elbow) and followed him through the crowd, out the back door, and into an alley. He let go of you then, sighing and crossing his arms.

Your mind was wild with questions - did you do something you shouldn’t have? Get too drunk? Everyone was drunk, though, and you weren’t even half as wasted as some of the others. Did Reid or Rossi tell him something bad about you? Were you about to somehow get yourself fired off the clock?

“The boy you were dancing with was bad news,” he said, after an uncomfortably long period of silence.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” you repeated, this time out loud, and you knew you shouldn’t be talking to him like this, but you were too caught off guard to conduct yourself more appropriately.

“He was a drug user,” Hotch said, as if that would explain everything.

“A drug user,” you repeated back, no less confused.

“Cocaine,” he continued. “He was high - his pupils were dilated, he was rubbing his nose, and he's been to the bathroom several times.”

“So… you’re going to arrest him? For doing cocaine?” you asked, still baffled as to what he was insinuating.

“What? No,” he said, “I’m trying to warn you not to get involved.”

You had entered some parallel universe, you decided. There was no other explanation for your boss, a man you’d known all of four months, dragging you outside a bar on a Friday night and telling you not to dance with a hot stranger because he was on cocaine.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you really did get yourself fired. “Sir, I appreciate the concern, but I don’t think it’s really any of your business.”

His face hardened at that. “It is exactly my business,” he said, eyes boring a hole through your skull, “to watch out for things that may compromise my team.”

“Compromise your team?” you repeated his words again. “I was dancing, not getting engaged to the guy.”

“Should I allow you to dance with a sexual sadist if it’s just dancing?” he pressed, using the stern voice that usually caused any sort of dissent to whither and die right in your throat.

It didn’t work this time, probably because he was acting fucking insane. “Are you seriously comparing a sexual sadist to a guy who does cocaine while he’s out partying?”

“It’s not just while he’s out partying, by the way he conducted himself, he was a chronic-”

“It doesn’t matter!” you said, nearly yelling now. “You had no right! I'm sorry, what are you, my dad?!”

His eyes flashed at that. “If I hadn’t already had to sit through an 8 hour surgery not knowing if Garcia was going to make it out alive because her date shot her, then perhaps I would have no right. But as it stands, I do. Please be more careful with who you associate with, even if it’s just dancing.”

He spat that last part out, more vitriolic than you’d ever seen him, and stalked back inside. You were left outside in the alley, alone, reeling from confusion surrounding the entire interaction and shock at the emotional charge he’d leveled at you.

Reentering the bar, you saw that Hotch’s seat had been vacated and his jacket was gone. You rolled your eyes, and on your way to the bathroom, nearly ran into Cooper again.

“Hey!” he said. “What was that all about? You good?”

You looked up at his face and for the first time, noticed faint traces of white dust around his nose. He looked keyed up, jumpy - his pulse racing and visible on his carotid. You sighed.

“I’m good. Just not in the mood right now, sorry,” and pushed past him into the bathroom.

Hotch was an emotionally stunted asshole with a control complex, but he was also never fucking wrong.

[anonthenullifier]

Fic request for touristy Maximoff family? (bc Vision's 'drunk' awkwardness in Wandavision ep 2 where he apologised to a handrail, is something that I as a Brit intensely and deeply relate to, and it reminded me of them hiding out in the UK in IW which also made me v emotional- they deserved better!)

Thanks for the ask! They really did deserve better and hopefully might get some happiness at some point. I hope you enjoy their family day trip!

***

“Where are the witches?”

Vision folds the map into a square and slides it back into his fanny pack, nonchalance embedded in the action  “Oh, there are no witches.”

This isn’t what Billy wants to hear, “You said this is Witch House.”

“I did, yes.”

The conversation circles back around, “Then where are the witches?”

“Well technically there were never any true witches here in the first place.” Billy stares at Vision, betrayal drooping his mouth down into a deep and unforgiving frown. A history lesson isn’t going to save the moment, and yet her husband tries, determined to share the two weeks worth of research he’s conducted since they decided on the trip. “It is called Witch House because it was owned by Judge Jonathon Corwin who presided over some of the witch trials. Now, though some like to say witchcraft was rampant at the time, it in fact was -”

“But I wanted witches.” This is true, it was Billy’s only request—spooky witches to be precise. “You said there’d be witches.”

Tommy isn’t fully invested in the trip, having voted to go to an amusement park for their fall get-away, but he never passes up an opportunity to pile onto a complaint. “Yeah, where are the witches, dad?”

“Salem has far greater historical value than just the witch trials.” Not a smart tactic, which Vision realizes as soon as he says it, face scrunching up at the misstep while the gears in his eyes rotate furiously to the left signifying he’s attempting to figure out how to regain their confidence. “Um, from my understanding there may be some modern day witches in the village who provide tours and demonstrations. We can stop by once we have seen everything.”

This earns some consideration from their ten year olds. “Real witches or like herbal tea witches?”

Tommy piggybacks on his brother’s question, “Will they turn Billy into a frog?”

“No one is being transformed into an amphibian,” Vision reassures them.

“Lame.” Only a half hour in and the L word is out in the open, a new record for the Maximoffs.

Wanda rolls her eyes at the rebuttal and studies the building in front of them, a foreboding tiered facade with black wood trim that would fit right into a horror movie. Briefly she wonders if it was always black or if that was added to enhance the supernatural identity the town developed once they realized the tourism potential of their sordid past. If ominousness is what sells here, she knows how to reclaim their trip. “Vizh,” her husband meets her gaze,the exasperation of parenthood making him seem particularly desperate for her thoughts, “There was at least one witch you can tell them about.” Confusion crinkles his brow, “Agatha.”

Realization dawns, as if he had blocked out all memories of dear old Agatha. “Ah yes Agatha Harkness.” The name falters on his lips, uncertainty making residence in his body with the wringing of his hands.  “I am not sure they are old enough to hear about-“

“You owe us a witch, dad.” Tommy is very dedicated now, a grave frown on his face and an arm wrapped tenderly around his twin’s shoulders. “Billy deserves a witch.”

Vision folds, shoulders inching down in submission of their desires. “Agatha Harkness,” it is not that they have had bad experiences, per se, with Agatha, but she always intersects with their lives at moments of both wonderful highs and crippling lows, which is why Vision seems to weigh her name so heavily. “You will not see the name Agatha Harkness in any of the books about Salem.” Wanda can feel Vision mentally shut the books of information he’d acquired for the day. “She was a witch, a real one and very powerful as well as very old.”

“How old?” Billy’s eyes are shining at the change in tone for the trip. “Like ancient?”

“Positively ancient.” An enormous grin erupts on Billy’s face, while Tommy stands unusually rapt. “There are accounts of her presence all the way back to 10,500 BC, there are even rumors she was involved in the lost city of Atl-”

A cloyingly sweet and chipper “Excuse me,” breaks the story and the atmosphere. The voice belongs to a short, blonde haired woman in a puffy vest and flannel shirt, “I couldn’t help but overhear your tour and was hoping we could join.” The we is a man a few years older than the woman, his gray mustache thick enough to hide whatever his feelings are about the request.

Vision’s lips part and then close a few times, hand half raised as he processes the intrusion. “Oh um, this is a uh private tour,” a nervous, placating smile tries to shoo away the couple. It doesn’t work, neither does his, “Terribly sorry for the confusion.”

Typically on their trips people come up to them because they are Avengers, but Wanda doesn’t detect the same motivation from the couple, neither seeming to actually recognize them. The husband appears a bit concerned about Vision’s appearance while the wife assumes it is for show, “Oh well, you just seem dressed the part, you little devil,” Wanda tries not to laugh, something Tommy fails at, chuckling at the way the comment wilts his father further. Whoever this woman is ignores the reaction, soldiering on ahead as if it is her job to get what she wants. “And you are giving this beautiful family such a lovely tour. We’d love to join in.”

Vision weighs his response, eyes first surveying the very clearly matching sweatshirts they are wearing, this year’s travel theme the Maximoff Bunch. Each of them has a navy sweatshirt with Cambria font declaring their role-- Vision’s sweatshirt (that is real clothing, not molecularly manipulated so that he has a keepsake from their trip) is emblazoned with Papa-ya, their less than thrilled 10 year olds are sporting ones labeled Bil(ly)berry and Tommy-rillo, and Wanda’s deviates a bit with Mom-osa, Vision crushed to not find a fruit close enough to mom to complete the bunch. This should be enough to convince this woman that they are all a family and not a tour group...and yet she just keeps smiling sweetly at Vision until he gives in. “We’re happy to pay.”

Now Vision turns towards Wanda, searching for a response or a rescue. She doesn’t get a chance to help, Tommy speaking up first, “Fifty a person fair?”  

“Thomas I do not-”

“Completely fair.”

The glare from Vision assures their son that they are going to talk about this on the ride home, Tommy’s impulsivity almost always at odds with Vision’s desire for control and planning.

Vision turns towards the couple, hands clasped tightly in a sign that another apology is on it’s way but it is stopped by Billy recentering their attention to what is most important. “How can Agatha be so old?”

Faced with numerous smiling and eager faces, Vision seems to accept his newfound role with a deep, soundless sigh, “Well, she is a very powerful witch, one who even survived the Salem Witch Trials.”

“No way!”

“Very much so. Let us return to 10,500 BC first.” Now that he is free to regale them with history, albeit seasoned with a heaping amount of occult, Vision finds his element. They learn about how Agatha came to be in Salem, about the Witch House and the judge who dwelled there, of the frenzy that occurred in people pointing fingers at anyone who was suspicious or merely disliked. The boys are enraptured listening to the tales of injustice and prejudice and, as they move from the Witch House to the hill on which many witches were burned at the stake, their little tour group increases in size, a trail of eight people joining on.

Surprisingly her husband takes it all in stride, welcoming each new person and asking their name. What really seems to excite Vision is when their crew asks questions. One of the newbies stops him during his soliloquy on what behaviors were deemed witchy. “Is it true that witches danced naked?”

Vision’s charm is on full display, lips cocked to the side as he shakes his head at the idiocy of the past, “Merely a salacious rumor because titillation is more convincing than honesty.”

A voice from the back of the group declares, “That’s because history is written by lonely men.”

Without missing a beat, her husband nods appreciatively at the running commentary from this particular guest, “A very astute observation, Taiyah, yet again. Now let’s turn our attention back to the Court of Oyer and Terminer.”

As the tour keeps moving through the harrowed landmarks, Billy is at the front, always just to the side of Vision, soaking in every word of information. Tommy, on the other hand, oscillates between the front and the back, eventually deciding to stick with Wanda. “This is starting to get a bit lame.”

“Your father and brother are having fun.”

His annoyed sigh seeks companionship, which she won’t give because she’s enjoying herself as well. “It’s just so much talking.” It is more than Tommy is ever willing to listen to, his mind and body always seconds, if not hours, ahead of them all. “Where’s the excitement?”

Sweeping the environment is a key aspect of missions and right now Wanda has assessed that the majority of the group are crowded around a tree, listening to the story of how Agatha supported parts of the trials out of a need to cull the weaker witches and remove her competition, it is a dark aspect of the tour, barely a sound existing to interfere with Vision’s explanation of the witch’s intentions. “Watch this.” Tommy stares at Wanda as she lifts her hand, scarlet undulating around her fingers, and then she flicks a finger, the tree trembling mightily despite no breeze to speak of. Several people gasp, one woman screams, and instantly Vision locks eyes with her, not one to ever be deceived by her influence. She expects irritation at disrupting his story, but instead there’s a little spark of mischief in his swirling irises, an almost imperceptible uptick to the left corner of his mouth that takes all her energy not to go and enjoy.

“Don’t you all tell us not to do that?” Tommy’s voice is bated, eager to figure out if their limits on use of powers in public is about to be lessened.

“No one goes on a witch tour without hoping for a little bit of magic.” The shit eating grin on his face is almost a perfect replica of Pietro’s and one she can’t help but mirror. “Just watch and learn.”

***

By the time they reach the Witch Village, the agreed upon conclusion of their tour, Vision can’t get a word in edgewise, the entire group riled up, swapping observations of the branches that moved without wind, the sense of dread that engulfed their minds at the guilty verdict of Agatha, or the heat they felt when the pyre was verbally lit. It’s this sense of awe that makes not a single person listen to Vision’s insistent, “Sorry, please, I do not want your money. Please, keep it for yourselves.” Instead of listening to him, everyone shoves their payment into the cup that Tommy so helpfully procured from the concession stand nearby.

Once all the people are gone, it is just the Maximoffs once again.  “Was that sufficient in witches?”

Billy’s enthusiastic nods sends his hair bobbing with glee. “So awesome.”

“I have a question,” this comes from Tommy, who has already bought an ice cream cone with their earnings, the swirl of chocolate and vanilla towering up from his fist, “would we have been considered witches back then?”

“Well,” Vision’s arm snakes around her waist, pulling her until their hips are touching, the pride in his voice wrapping her even more snugly with his affection, “your mother already is a stunning one.”

“Gross.”

“And I no doubt would be viewed as inherently supernatural and thus evil,” something that is said with levity instead of the usual depths of despair that accompanies Vision’s grapple with humanity. “The two of you would also be suspect, simply from your parentage but also, well-”

“So the answer is yes?”  Vision concedes with a nod. “Great, wanna go take a picture in the arm thingies over there?” They follow the ice cream cone as it points them towards a small square where people are taking turns putting their heads and hands through the holes.

“That would be a pillory,” Vision helpfully defines, but neither of their sons are listening, having already taken off to join the line for the photo op.

Wanda takes their brief solitude to encircle his waist with her arm, squeezing him tight and kissing his shoulder. “You have fun?”

His arm moves to rest along her shoulders, “Surprisingly yes, it was a bit exhilarating to have a truly captive audience.”

Wanda hugs him tighter, “Good.” Billy and Tommy wave them over, only ten people now ahead of them in line. They look so carefree, jostling each other with whatever it is they are bickering about now, their happiness with the day unashamedly stitched into every movement. Given who they are, Wanda is glad they are alive now and not during a time of greater hatred. Which brings her mind back to the woman who made the tripa success. “Vizh?”

“Hmm?”

“When do you think we should let them meet Agatha?”

They stop, Vision sometimes unable to think and walk at the same time, and the toil in his mind is palpable even without her powers. “I believe,” he too takes in their sons, a fluttering smile on his lips the longer he stares, “it might be best she remains a story for a little bit longer.”

[angelsndragons]

Okay, since I see a lot of people either straight up panicking or saying that Caduceus’ playlist is straight up depressing (neither reaction I get)....I’m gonna offer a different reading of the songs here, how does that sound?

Death Bed Salesman - This is straight up about Caduceus’ family and his upbringing. His father even says some of the lyrics almost word for word in ep 96. Growing up surrounded by death and all the rituals created for the living left behind made Caduceus into the person he is. ‘This is how it has to end/So love somebody while you can’ like talk about a thesis statement for Caduceus’ outlook.

How are You Doing - Wow this song is pulling double duty. Caduceus is not a character who likes burdening other people with his own problems, preferring to keep a calm, polite distance between others and his feelings. The style of this song harkens over to Jester, it’s very bubbly and sweet sounding. Of course, this is also one of Jester’s primary issues (someone please tell the clerics they can be people with problems too). Now, if you do what I did and go watch the music video for this song, two things will stick out. One is the increasing ridiculous scenarios the singers find themselves in while going about their day to day lives juxtaposed against their ‘nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine’ lyrics. Two is the fact that these singers come out at the end of the song together, they have triumphed over the madness and nothing stopped them from doing what they wanted and needed to do. This song encapsulates early Caduceus, while he was getting a feel for the Nein and being drowned every other second, ultimately his contributions to the Pirate Arc were fundamental to the group’s success. 

Vegetables - Honestly, this song just reminds me of that early conversation with Fjord in the Sour Nest. Caduceus is cooking omelets and just casually asks Fjord if he could look for veggies down in the torture chamber since it would ‘make a good root cellar.’ Fjord is so caught off guard by this request, and understandably so, he just repeats ‘Roots?’ Caduceus then just lists off root vegetables like Fjord’s an idiot. Oh, Cad. XD Honestly I like that the beat line is being made by vegetable chomping, it just feeds into the ‘Caduceus is a giant magical cow man’ vibes and I love it.

When the World is at Rest - Xhorhaus! In the middle of that street! Xhorhaus! In all seriousness, this song pulls double duty as well. ‘I miss the sun but the moons will do in a pinch’ anyone? The first and most obvious thing this song reminds me of is when the group is given the house and Caduceus asks, ‘are we putting down roots here?’ With the single act of planting that tree on the tower, Caduceus turned the house into the Mighty Nein’s home. Can’t get your deposit back after that, after all XD. I think of how this home in the dark has sheltered and protected the Nein so many times. I think of them befriending Essek and how that wasn’t part of the plan (you know, like Caduceus himself). I think of how their plans to end the war were hatched in darkness, how violated they all felt when one of their own was taken and when another was assassinated under cover of night, because the darkness had come to feel safe to them. I think of how much the Nein has blossomed since this house became their home, since they all had a place to go back to that was theirs. I think of how the Nein has given the world a breather, a chance to rest, all because they returned a beacon and befriended a traitor. 

Wildflowers - So, there are a couple of interpretations of this song. One is setting a lover or loved one free from your own feelings and letting them go. Another is that the singer is trying to find a place to bury a loved one (’that home by and by’ around where I live and grew up is a roundabout reference to heaven). Honestly, both interpretations are apt for Caduceus. He does his best to not burden others with his worries and feelings, he was the one who stayed home, which granted his siblings the freedom they needed to leave, etc. The second interpretation fits Caduceus as well because we know one of his secret hopes is that the Nein will let him tend their bodies and graves when the time comes. And now I’m gonna put on my TeaHaw hat for a goddamn minute bc holy heck, this is such a good song for both of them, Caduceus reminding Fjord that he deserves freedom and his beloved sea again, Fjord teaching Caduceus to follow his heart and embrace new experiences. ‘I have seen no other/Who compares with you’ really fits their complimentary and praise styles with each other. Thank you, Tal.

Never did No Wandering - Don’t have much to add to what Taliesin said about the song. For once. I think of Caduceus’ loneliness in the Grove and his regret that he didn’t leave sooner. I think of how he could only leave in the context of duty, of just how much his duty as a grave cleric to Melora has defined and shaped his understanding of himself. I think of how long it took for him to voice his own desires and wants. I think of how he insists he isn’t wandering, that he is following a pre-ordained path. I think of how much work he still has to do when it comes to knowing what he wants and making peace with getting it just for his own sake. Also, hello more sailors.

When You Get to Ashville - Oof, so this song works both ways for Caduceus, both as the singer and the subject of the song. I think of him, home alone for ten years, wondering what was going on with his family, if they were safe (he knew they weren’t, he knew what it took to keep them from him), how he didn’t actually want to know unless he could help. As the subject, I see his family, having only been away for what was maybe two years for them, looking at the changes in him in awe and confusion. Nothing’s changed for them but boy howdy has Caduceus changed. The homebody has left the nest and saved them all and he very obviously doesn’t want to go home yet if at all. Caduceus has waited so long to get them back and to be a family again yet when the time comes, he can’t bring himself to return, as the singer implies about the subject. He knows his family will be there to catch him if he needs it but I think this episode is where it really hit him that he’d been trying to recreate a past that never could be again because he could never go back to being who he was. 

Fuck it I’m a Flower - Another Caduceus anthem. Upbeat with a few melancholy lyrics. You can take it as the singer divorcing themself from humanity or you can take it as the singer using flowers as a metaphor for their growth into someone who becomes more involved (the singer goes from not marching to taking on other people’s pain from their place of safety to fully embracing the movement to change things while they can). I don’t have any context for this song but it really freaking reminds me of those protest photos where a protester offers a flower to the riot police (fuck the police). Caduceus is blossoming into a man who genuinely cares about the wider world and the people within it. Not just abstractly, which I would argue he did back in the Grove. But being up close to the ordinary folks in the Dynasty, in the Empire, the Coast, has given him a new perspective on not just his place but where he wants to stand. I think of Jester’s conversation with him back in Oh Captain Who’s Captain, the world is much bigger and messier than Caduceus could have ever dreamed. I think of Caduceus befriending and being kind to their crew and Avantika’s. I think of ‘Nott, you went to find help, we’re here to help.’ I think of ‘one day someone will pray for a miracle and that prayer will be answered because you showed up, that’s what this is all about.’ From rescuing Yeza to saving Giants to shattering the chains binding two of his friends to bringing peace to two warring nations to separating justice from vengeance, just look at where he is now: no longer passive or uncertain of how they can contribute to the world, Caduceus and the Nein have brought so much good into it. Caduceus knows where he stands now. Some people say that he’s the Nein’s moral compass and I disagree with that entirely, he’s become the courage to act on their moral compasses. 

Oh Bury Me Not - Okay, so I know this is where some listeners start to get antsy with all the death talk in this song and the ones after it so breathe, it’s fine. Caduceus is a Grave Cleric, y’all. Tal says that this song is an expression of Caduceus’s religious beliefs, which, uh, yeah. There is no stained glass in the Blooming Grove temple, they do all their work outside the traditional structures of religion and civilization and do it gladly, etc. The ending Bury Me Not, okay, guys, Caduceus is the singer here, not the kid being sung about. It really drives home the Wildmother’s philosophy on death: when you’re dead, you’re dead and you have no say over what happens to the corpse left behind. I think of the corpse of the Great Hero and the founding of the Blooming Grove, the Menagerie, and the Kiln. I think of Caduceus’ onscreen death and how through it, he finds his path to the Kiln. I think of him reviving Fjord. I think of him and this island and how much of a perversion it is of the ‘natural order’. Also, just given how much Fjord has impacted has impacted Caduceus’ ideas of faith and signs and stuff, it’s so fitting that this piece is here. I also think cowboys and how Tal said he’d planned on using the Ocean Burial before he came across this, I see you, Tal. 

September Song - So that build up, huh? I think of Caduceus and the Nein readying themselves for a battle to the death to save Yasha and stop Obann. I think of all the close-calls and near misses. I think of how every day, these people choose over and over and over to stay together, in spite of the coming winter, in spite of the obvious danger, in spite how much safer they would all be if they went their separate ways and planted their heads in the sand. I think of how that, their time, is the most precious gift any of them could give the others. This is not a sad thing, by the way. All these people, who have been so badly wounded by others, who are so skittish and so distrustful and so guarded, choose to stay together over and over again. No matter the hardship. They choose to spend their lives together, they choose to be better together and for each other.

22 (Over Soon) - Guys, this is 100% an Episode 95-96 song. 100%, no question in my book. I think of what Caduceus doesn’t say to his family. I think of what he does say. I think of how overwhelmed he is when the Nein saves them, I think of how he can only muster ‘It’s been a long time.’ (All these years) I think of him trying so hard to be given permission to stay with the Nein without explicitly asking for it, the subtext of ‘would you forgive me if I don’t come home yet’ threaded through his every interaction with his family. I think of how Caduceus hands the seeds over to his sister and tells her to be the hero the Grove and their family needs. I think of how easily and willingly he gave up what he’s called his destiny and charge since the beginning in order to stay with the Nein. This is Caduceus saying good-bye once and for all to the dreams of things going back to the way they were. I think Caduceus had been hoping that his family had changed just as much as he had. I think if they had, he might have gone back with them. But they haven’t changed and he has. So he can’t go home. Not yet. He cloaks his desire to stay with the Nein once more in duty but make no mistake, it’s desire that’s keeping him with them, people who may not understand him but who try and who are there and who accept the new person he has become. The build-up Tal was talking about? This is it. The moment where Caduceus first puts himself and his desires above what he thinks is his duty. The moment that Caduceus fully realizes how much he has changed and what an earth-shattering revelation it is.

We’ll Meet Again - Meetings and Partings have always had a special place in Caduceus’ arc, especially metatextually. He was the character who replaced another, who was rescued from his static seclusion by three of the Nein and who in turn rescued the three captive members. I think of how this song is a promise that, come what may, the singer will do their damnedest to return and make that promise a reality. I think of all the weird and wonderful people Caduceus has met in his short time outside the Grove. I think of all the shop keeps who just love this pink fuzzball and how many times they tell him to come back. I think about the Dusts, the meeting and parting and sanctuary they gave him. I think about Reani and Nila and how his kindness to them has come back threefold (Reani escorting his family home, Nila protecting the Grove). I think about Essek. I think about how driven Caduceus became to reforge the sword after Yasha was taken, to bring her home. I think of Caduceus prodding the Gentleman into reconciling with Jester. I think of his delight in the coincidences that keep lining up between him and Fjord. I think about Caduceus and Beau and how proud he is of her growth. I think of his declaration in the dome that ‘We aren’t done until we’ve saved each other.’ 

Enjoy It - And we wrap up our playlist with another Caduceus thesis statement: don’t worry about the things you can’t change, find the goodness and light in all of your experiences. If it’s meant to be easy, it will be and if it’s meant to be hard, it will be hard. You’re the green bean and you can choose to become jaded at the storms or enjoy the water flooding your roots. This song also fits the lightness we’ve seen from Caduceus since sending his family home. His big quest, his reason for leaving home, has been fulfilled (so he thinks, pretty sure Molaesmyr will be calling in the Nein’s near future) so now he can just sit back, relax, and fully enjoy the ride.

TL;DR - Growing up and moving on is hard and painful but it is also triumphant and necessary. Learning to be who you are and to place yourself on your list of priorities is a journey full of quiet work that few rarely glimpse. Caduceus’ whole arc has been about who he is and what he’s going to do with the strong moral compass he’s got - Is he going to continue to live in the world, even with all the pain, struggle, joy, and goodness that comes with it, or is he going to retreat from it, go back to his little patch of green and forget about it? All signs point to the former, not the latter. In tarot, Death means transformation and sweeping change even more than it does literal death. Caduceus’ playlist is all about the transformation of his self even as he remains true to his core beliefs.

[orange-waterfalls]

Reader w/wings hc's p.2: lesser- known egos/egos i just didn’t wanna put in the last one

ty @fancybootm for the request!

A/N: IT’S BEEN A WHOLE ASS MONTH SINCE I GOT THIS I AM SO FUCKING SORRY. school is suck. anyways. my brain convinced itself that I had to have the same amount of egos in this one as the last one so shit's long again. I had a bit of trouble but scrounged up enough of them. uhhh I don't... we don't really know a lot? about the personalities of these ones? so I just went with what I thought. for Heistiplier, I like to think Mark in AHWM and ADWM is a completely separate person from Actor. Like until we get to the Actor timeline he is a separate person altogether. Night Guard Mark is like mark from the fnaf musical because i can and fuck you. the egos are very random and from many lesser known videos so uh. you might not know all of them. I didn’t even know all of them at first. some of these fuckers annoy me to no end so I had to make them more likable for my own sanity cjfufydy. I only skimmed through after I wrote so it might suck lol. Uh rated T for cursing. Mentions of religion and mental health. Enjoy!

Y/N(reader) w/ wings headcanons p.2

Ed Edgar saw you as a profiting opportunity.

Bastard only uses you for commercials at first

Wings sell shit, don’t they? Kids are into wings these days?

One day you get pissed and just punch him

He respects you after that…

He’s very loud, of course, and your ears tend to be sensitive

He tries to quiet down when he sees you make a face

It’s difficult because that… that’s just his normal volume

He talks about his son sometimes. Not to you specifically

He gets sad… you still don’t completely understand what happened.

Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t either

You instinctively wrap your wings around him for Safety and Comfort

He is a MAN who DOES NOT CRY but goddammit, he was close 

He enjoys your company

The Silver Shepherd thought he was gonna rescue you

He’s a superhero, he HAS to save you, right?

Nah, you’re the one saving him more often than not

He tries not to be jealous, but goddamn

Your wings are just. So big. And pretty

He’ll complain to you about his girlfriend “cheating” on him

You know the bullshit he pulls, but you listen because why not

He appreciates that you at least pay a little bit of attention

He doesn’t do a whole lot of hero work, but he usually brings you along

Just for a bit of extra support

More often than not, you’re doing most of the work

You let him believe he did something, though

You boost his very low ego, and so you get along

Derek Derekson was a little bitch

Also saw you as a profiting opportunity

Yelled sometimes when you messed up

You took deep breaths and tried to stay calm the first few times

Then you snapped, calling him a variety of... words...

He stopped yelling at you, but not much else changed

You got along well with Eric, and he appreciated you for that

He does care about his only living son, at least a little

You two don’t… talk a lot

He’ll watch you from afar, occasionally

You constantly encourage him to TALK TO HIS CHILD and GO TO THERAPY

You still don’t like him, and he feels the same way

But he’s… trying

Randall Voorhees thought you were badass

He wasn’t as used to magic and weird shit as the others

You were absolutely awesome to him

He’d never seen an angel before!

Even though he didn’t really KNOW that you were an angel

He just assumed and refused to change his mind

Harder to hide you wings in crowded cities, like where he lives

You spend a lot of your time with him cooped up in his apartment

He felt bad, so he rents a mountain cabin up in Albany whenever you visit

You two ski and snowboard look me in the eyes and tell me the bitch isn’t a snowboarder

He’s a construction worker, so he’s usually busy

You visit him on his lunch break sometimes.

The other workers claim to see you, but he’ll always deny it

He buys a pizza whenever you visit and you eat it together

You two are so cute it’s sickening

Yandereplier claimed you as their new senpai

They saw you, you had wings, you were nice

And now you are Senpai

You aren’t sure why you get a weird feeling whenever they call you this

Luckily, you don’t have many friends, at least none that they could kill…

They showed you their weapon collection to impress you

You were scared and also impressed

They take you to a cherry blossom tree near their house

You talk and hang out and eat lunch

They don’t call you senpai anymore and they talk to you normally

And you no longer stare at the blood on their uniform

Night Guard Mark prayed you wouldn’t try to kill him

He might have PTSD from Freddy Fazbear’s

Those animatronics left a mark…

It took a little while for him to trust you not to harm him

When he did, HOO BOY is he a chatterbox

He has so many theories about the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Chain

Dark’s told you not to talk about the actual lore. It might break his spirit

You get very worried sometimes

He looks like that one picture of Charlie Day. You know the one.

Sometimes he gets panic attacks

You wrap him in a cocoon of your limbs and wings to ground him

He likes you for that

You hang out, playing games and watching movies. No horror. Absolutely NONE

You can handle him, and he likes you

Dr. Plier was curious about you

He wondered how you felt about… everything

He asked if you were ok one day and you broke down

He felt guilty and bought you ice cream

He sees you as a sort of… psychological experiment

Like he asks you very strange and slightly personal questions

Ok, very personal, but he’s a therapist, what can you do

He eventually stopped the interrogation and talked to you normally

You get along fine, but it’s kind of the same situation as Dr. Iplier

Chef Iplier wasn’t really all that phased

You were surprised by this because… well… wings

But he just… treats you normal, for the most part.

Sometimes he’ll pet your wings, but only if you let him

He loves how soft your feathers are

He doesn’t make that his entire perception of you

It’s a nice change of pace

He tries to cook for you sometimes, but uh. It doesn’t go well

You’re still confused as to how someone can set a glass of water on fire

You mostly just order take out

You hang out like normal people

Which neither of you are, but you’re both fine with that

Paranormal Investigator Mark is obsessed with figuring you out

Nearly had a panic attack when he first saw you

He wanted to prove the supernatural exists, but he didn’t have a lot of evidence before

And then your mystical-ass came along

Like the Jims, he tried to get pictures, and they all ended up blurry

He threw a fit over it, and you felt kinda bad

You tried to take the picture yourself but it came out the same

He gave up after a while

He info dumps about paranormal stuff to you

It can last from 5 minutes to 5 hours

You do pay attention though, and that makes him happy

He takes you on investigations sometimes

You don’t do much except break shit with those giant wings of yours

He stopped taking you on investigations

Cooliplier is not sure what to think

You have wings! Great! There’s absolutely nothing he can do about that

Not the most normal, but not the weirdest either

He tends to put on a tough-guy persona around new people

You were a lil intimidated

Then you became friends and mans did a full 180 around you

Went from “Your daughter calls me daddy too” to “I’ll have her home by 9 sir”

His personality is sort of a mix of the two

Catch you both screaming the lyrics to Mr. Brightside at 12:00 am

Took you to a mosh pit once

You got kicked out cause of the wings

He felt bad, but you had fun

He teaches you how to dance and roller skate

You also go for rides on his motorcycle

Once you just started flying while he was driving and it was the most fun shit ever

You’re “buds”, as he often tells you

Goopiplier likes you a lot

They like having another not-completely-human creature to talk to

I mean, some of the others aren’t exactly human…

But they’re not the best conversationalists…

Then again, neither is goop.

They mention the Dark Gods ONCE and suddenly no one wants to talk to them…

But you do!! Yay!!!

You mostly just hang out, do whatever

Watch movies, play games, or just talk

They like to draw you

They’re not very good, but you keep them all anyways

Sometimes they do… rituals. While you’re around

You are… a little scared, but that’s okay!

You have sleepovers and act like teenagers

You mock the others and then giggle, getting louder as you go

They’re not that funny, but you had to be there

Elder Jeremiah is terrified of you

He nearly pissed his pants when he saw you

He thought he was finally going to have to pay for his sins

He started crying, and you panicked

Why the FUCK was this 20-something-year-old well-dressed man crying at you???

He dropped his bike and fell to his fucking knees and begged for forgiveness

You felt very uncomfortable with the whole situation

You told him to get up bc he was dirtying up his pants

He eventually stopped crying and you told him you were not an angel

Also not a demon, as you said when he asked

He avoids you, mostly, still thinking you’re gonna drag him down to hell

He stopped the uh. The stealing since you came around

He will hang around/with you sometimes to see if you “reveal your true form”

You haven’t yet, and never will, BUT WHEN YOU DO, HE’LL BE THERE

He does think you’re very nice, though

Preistiplier thinks you’re an angel sent to assist him

He is doing holy work, it only makes sense that He would send a helper

He was disappointed, to say the least

He then came to the conclusion that you lost your memory of being an angel

You couldn’t exactly dispute it, since you don’t remember

So, he takes you on hunts

You don’t do much except make a bunch of fucking NOISE with your WINGS

He’d hoped you’d smite the demons

Or at least scare them, but they know you’re not an angel

He still takes you on hunts because, he’d never admit it, but he… gets scared

You promised not to tell a soul

You confess your sins to him sometimes

They’re usually not what he considers sins, but he listens anyways

He thinks you are a good person, and he enjoys conversations with you

Heistiplier was just normal around you

Well… as normal as he can be

You’d enjoy his company a lot more if he didn’t have such a god complex

You still like him a lot

He likes you too

Even if you did refuse to rob a bank with him

He’s a very… exciting person

Though you don’t really want to be around him when he gets upset

The entire world literally seems to revolve around what he does

He’s a drama queen, and completely feral

It’s worrying at times

You two are normal friends

Playing video games, watching youtube, etc. etc.

You listen to his stories and wonder how he's not dead yet

But you can admit, he's really fucking funny

[angeltrapz]

ALSO your takes on this lil Strahm/Adam thing we’ve been discussing?? hi???? tht dynamic makes me insane i love it sm + am very excited 2 hear more of ur thoughts 💗

I'm answering this one first bc!!!!!! It makes me insane too like I cannot stop thinking abt it. I am Trying 2 put together a fic abt it!!!

Okay so. I think that Adam and Strahm are similar in several ways, and yet not at the same time. Adam is accused of being apathetic by Jigsaw, right? But we're obviously shown that it's not exactly the case; if anything, Adam's supposed apathy is a shield to protect who he really is: someone who cares deeply, maybe more than he should; someone intensely thoughtful, someone willing to keep things from people if he knows it'll hurt them while also functioning as self-preservation (not showing the polaroid to Lawrence, hiding the fact that the trash bag contained both the hacksaws AND the pictures he took), someone who altogether simply cannot truly be defined as apathetic at his core. His projected persona, however, is a completely different story - Adam is angry, bitter, jaded. And yes, he is angry, bitter in regards to his circumstances, jaded in a way that comes from a life spent living paycheck to paycheck if he could even manage that regularly. We've seen his apartment. This dude struggles. Apathetic, no, but angry? Oh, absolutely.

Strahm is... slightly more complicated. HIS projected persona is one of cool indifference, no nonsense, someone purely analytical and maybe a bit of an asshole about it. The thing is, though, is that deep down, Strahm also cares deeply - just look at how he reacted to Perez being injured + having to call her mom, when he destroyed that office room - it's just harder to get out of him. His projected persona hides someone whose emotions run just as hotly and strongly; his are just more well-hidden. He is impulsive, intelligent, result-seeking. Strahm doesn't seem like someone who allows himself to just feel things very often, and when he does, the blowout can be a fucking mess (for example, showing up to the packing plant BY HIMSELF, operating on adrenaline and rage alone).

I think, other than Perez perhaps, Adam just may be the first person to understand Strahm in a way that no one else has even attempted. Adam might be the first person who manages to see past that indifference, who embraces the writhing emotions underneath it because he gets it. And Adam is absolutely one of the very first people to look at Hoffman the way he and Perez did - after all, Adam is present in Strahm's hospital room when Hoffman pays him a visit and tells him to back the fuck off, and after the man leaves, the first thing he says to Strahm is "It's him, isn't it?"

Because he sees it too. He'd been in Hoffman's presence for all of around five minutes and he'd seen it too.

And just how world-shattering can that simple revelation be? For the first time, Strahm has someone other than Perez on his side. She's gone, there's nothing he can do to bring her back, but here is someone else who sees what he sees, feels what he feels, in a strange echo of the test that brought Strahm and Perez into this whole fucking mess. Here is someone who has no reason to agree with him, no prior pressure put upon him and someone who Strahm feels wouldn't simply agree with him on that basis anyway (as you've touched on before), and yet Adam sees it too.

I feel like, in the tensely energized space the two of them share in that room after Hoffman leaves, that is one of the very first times Strahm feels seen. He doesn't feel the need to keep his shields up, and it's liberating, in a way. He feels like he can breathe around Adam. For reasons even he isn't entirely sure of, Strahm feels safe here. He can be himself, even if that self is angry, bitter, jaded. Who better to understand that than Adam Faulkner-Stanheight?

It's a feeling that only increases after they're discharged from the hospital. There's no real reason for the two of them to stay together, no obligations (except the fact that Strahm saved Adam's life, but Strahm doesn't hold that over him & Adam doesn't stick around purely because of it), and yet they do. It's two weeks after they're sent home that Adam shows up at Strahm's apartment, shaking softly and looking so fucking miserable that Strahm couldn't even dream of turning him away - after all, he gave him the address. An unspoken agreement, an offering of companionship.

Adam has been thinking. He and Strahm, they're tied together in more than one way, aren't they? Not just their shields and safeguards, not just the similarities in their true, deep-down emotions, not even having been targeted by Jigsaw and surviving things they shouldn't have - they've both lost people. Strahm is never getting Perez back, and Adam? Adam bonded with a man in that bathroom who shot him and told him he'd come back, but never did. He never looked back. His other potential saviour, Amanda Young? Her idea of rescue was a plastic bag over his head, but even she couldn't commit to the idea. She left him there, too. He's not getting Lawrence back, he knows that. Jigsaw took something, someone, from both of them. So, he proposes, what if we did something about it?

(Strahm still thinks about when they first met, when Adam told him he loved him. He can't help it, of course he thinks about it; knowing Adam was delirious with blood loss and a dizzying combo of dehydration and starvation and infection didn't cut into the feeling the earnest declaration gave him, even if it should've. Adam stuck around when he didn't have to. He wants him here.)

They've lost everything. Adam, his peace of mind, the uncertain semi-stability of his life, functionality in his arm, one of the first people he'd made a genuine connection with. Strahm, his best friend, his colleagues' trust, the safety that came with observing the case from a distance. They have nothing and yet they have each other. They both want Jigsaw to pay for what he's done to them and the people they care about, and the innocent people they never even knew. Why shouldn't they?

Like you said, I don't think they get in the coffin. I agree with you and I think that Adam is the catalyst there, the one voice of reason that drags Strahm away from certain death before he even has the chance to get ensnared permanently in Hoffman's web. They don't even listen to the tape. They just hightail it. And it's outside of that building, chests heaving and hands shaking, that it all kind of sets in for Strahm: he could've died. Hoffman could have killed him like he wanted and he would've walked right into it had he been alone. Adam, completely unconscious of the gravity of Strahm's revelation, had turned around and saved his life, repaid a favour he didn't really owe but wanted to fulfill.

And again, like you said, it's not really a favour, is it? Not when instead of laughing in an expelling of nervous energy Adam leans up and drags Strahm down by the lapels of his jacket and kisses him hard, grip white-knuckled and short breaths huffed through his nose. No, there is the same kind of reverence to be found in the way that Adam cradles his face in his trembling hands and breathes out "You're alive," as the kind that could be heard in that first I love you. There's nothing else that Adam has to say for Strahm to understand. He just pulls him close because he needs this, too. He has spent so long living his life as someone who doesn't need tenderness, doesn't need people to care about him, feels safer in isolation than anything else, and now he doesn't feel the need anymore. He is changed, in this way, but Adam accepts it readily, and though Strahm can't say it back when Adam finally slumps against him and breathes out "I love you" against his shoulder, no fever or delirium to compromise the meaning, he feels it all the same.

They understand each other, hold each other. They have work to do, and lots of it - Hoffman's going to be rampaging in a blaze of enraged glory soon enough, knowing that Strahm (and, by extension, Adam) got away, and they're going to need a plan - but right now, they can breathe. Right now, all either of them needs is knowing the other is alive, that they'd made it through something that for all intents and purposes was meant to kill them. Strahm can't just walk away. Adam knows this; he doesn't think he can, either. Two people who are more similar than they could've ever dreamed, brought together in one of the worst ways imaginable and yet in a way that has served as a lifesaver - not Jigsaw, fuck that. They want to live. For themselves, for each other, for everyone who didn't make it out. For the people they can't get back.

It's a kind of understanding that's entirely foreign to both of them, but as they hole up in Strahm's apartment after, huddled close on the couch because neither of them can sleep and they're trembling for reasons other than just the caffeine buzz of coffee, it's one that they can learn to adapt to. They can do this. They're going to save lives. They're going to do this hand-in-hand. They have each other's backs, without the shadow of a doubt.

And, really, is that not love?

[shihozaki]

Omg hi, I feel so exposed bc there’s no anon 😭. But oh well. I just stumbled across your account as saw that you did matchups! I was wondering if I could request a match up for BNHA? My name is Hannah (she/her), I’m 21 (almost 22 on the 13th of April 😔) (you can either age the character up or age me down if you match me with someone younger HSHDNKD they’re just fictional so I don’t mind as long as you don’t mind). I’m 5’6, ravenclaw, INFP, aries.

Personality-wise I’m honestly really shy at first but I could hold a lowkey awkward conversation and you’d probably never know that I’m shy BDJKD, but once I’m comfortable with someone I’m a complete crackhead. You’ll never get me to shut up. I think I’m pretty caring, I have a bad habit of not being able to say no though. I really need to stop doing that. My fav color is sage green or light blue! I’m honestly just scared of being alone and not accomplishing my future goal of becoming a writer/editor. Thinking about my future just really terrifies me 😭. I love to listen to music (BTS are my babies pls). I love making myself cry by watching sad k-dramas. I’m really new to anime, so if you have an sad one LMK PLS. I get attached to fictional characters very quickly. Catch me in my room fangirling to the walls bc I’m a loner ✋🏼😩. I also just have a hard time making eye contact with men, but like I do want a man for myself one day😔 just how the heck do I do that???? I’m very insecure about my looks and my body. I’m a little chubby, so someone who would not judge me bc of that would be PERFECT. I have dark brown hair and dark brown eyes (bleh) I wear glasses (I’m so blind :/) idk what else to say about my appearance LOL.

My ideal man 🤩 let me try and not make it obvious over who I simp over gosh. Uhhh I’m not picky about looks, like nothing in particular comes to mind. I’ve had a crush on real/fictional ppl that look very different from each other HDNDKSS. Call me crazy, but I would die for a protective s/o 😩 like yes protect meeeee pls. I can only see myself in a relationship with a man, so he should be male lol. But throw in a female bestie in there if you’d like 😩. As long as he loves me it really doesn’t matter how he acts. I just need me a loyal man who I can talk to comfortably. Someone who will understand my emotions and struggles? Idk. Dates—amusement park, concert, movie theatre. Somewhere where we wouldn’t have to do a lot of talking (dinner dates could be for later on when I’m more comfortable around him LOL)

Quirk o.o hm. I don’t think I’d want a major quirk that could overthrow him. Maybe I could have a quirk that helps people? If I’m matched with a student, then I’d probably be in a lower class. But if you end up aging them up or matching me with a pro hero or something then I’d probably work on the sidelines with helping rescue civilians. A quirk that allows me to see through any smoke or debris (if a building fell and someone was trapped I’d be able to see and locate them quickly) IDK honestly I haven’t thought about it much, but if you can think of anything better, then go for it 😭.

I really love Italian food, and any East Asian food (Chinese, Korean, Japanese) I love it all. Uhhh I have a dog she’s 5 years old and I recently got another puppy, she’s only 2 months old 🥺. I love reading and writing. I mentioned it a little before, but I’d love to become a writer and editor in the future. I still have a long way before I’m completely confident in my writing though :”). I love to dream. I try and think about a specific person to try and dream about them at night (it worked a few times with BTS and Bakugou 😭 I was so happy) Uhhhhhhhhhh, I think that’s all. Thank you so much for doing this! Take your time and I hope you have fun writing these. I really appreciate it! This is honestly how I comfort myself, by inserting myself into these scenarios that people write about my favorite characters, so my heart always leaps whether writers like you offer matchups! So thank you x 9827389292. I hope this was enough info to write something with 😂. OH and for the scenario maybe something like how we first met compared to how it is when we’ve been together for awhile? I suffer with frequent anxiety attacks, so that might play a role in the relationship somewhere? Idk. Just throwing ideas and info to you at this point 😭 thank you again! 💜

I pair you up with Kirishima Eijiro!

Your quirk is “Lucid dreams”, where you can visit people in their dreams! You also have full consciousness in your dreams, so you can practically do anything when you are sleeping!

- You guys first met in middle school, when you had first transferred there. You guys became friends when he volunteered to show you around the school

- You wanted to be a writer/editor and he wanted to be a hero. You guys fully supported each other, and still kept in contact even after departing ways to high school.

- He asked you out eventually, and when you said yes, the Bakusquad came out running to you, congratulating both of you. Turns out Kirishima told his friends all about you and they followed him when he decided to ask you out.

- He drinks respect women juice every single morning- he literally praises the ground you walk on?? He hypes you up whenever you’re feeling insecure, and makes sures that you’re feeling comfortable at all times

- You made him watch a bunch of K-dramas to cry together, and at first he refused to cry (“It’s not manly to cry!”) and then gave up and ended up sobbing with you.

- And he’s SO loyal! Whenever a girl comes up to him, he immediately turns them down, saying that he already has someone. When someone comes up to you, he gets very defensive of you, and shows the guy that you already have someone by PDA.

- He helps you calm down whenever you’re having anxiety attacks, and he actually researched about it when you told him. He!s very patient and helpful

- Adores your dogs (“I don’t know who’s cuter. You, or your dogs!”)

- Don’t tell anyone, but he’s already planning the wedding with Bakugou as his best man ;)

- Overall you guys have a very trusting relationship, where two kind but also crazy souls live in harmony :)

Scenario: When you first met VS Now

“Do you remember when we first met?” You asked randomly. You were watching a K-drama with him, and the flashbacks the lead was getting in the drama made you think past your own memories. “When we first met? Hmm, it was in middle school, right?” Replied Kirishima. You nodded. “We were so awkward back then!” You said as you cringed at the thought of middle school. “You were so shy back then- you would barely say anything to me.” Said Kirishima. “You were scared to make eye contact with me!” You laughed. “I’m shy whenever I meet new people!” Kirishima laughed along with you. “I think we got really close after being partnered for a project.. it was about our future career plans?” Kirishima wondered. “Oh, I remember! You said you wanted to be a hero, and I wanted to be a writer… we were high in hopes but had so many insecurities as a child.” You thought out loud. “We’re still children.” Replied Kirishima. “At least, you act like it.” You shoved him as he smirked. “Yeah, and you were so scared to hold my hand when we first started dating.” Said Kirishima as he hugged you from the back. “Now we do so much other stuff.” You replied. “We could be doing more.” Kirishima whispered into your ear, earning a whack in the head from you. “I miss middle school kirishima...” You joked. “Black haired Kirishima was so cute..” “Hey, hey, I’m still cute. I might even be cuter than your K-pop boys.” Said Kirishima while grinning. You smiled back. “Let’s not go that far.”

Song: Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

I hope you enjoyed it! I’m actually Korean so I love K-dramas! I hope the scenario was somewhat satisfactory. Please tell me how you felt about it, and I hope to see you again soon!

[iamtheprotagoneil]

when i was writing my answer for the second part of this ask from alicia, i actually came up with a fic idea but since my schedule is pretty packed for a while to come, i probably won’t be able to turn this idea into an actual fic. so to keep this from fading away into the oblivion that is my awful memory, i’mma just do what ive made this blog for, which is rambling away:

there’s this hongkong tv show i watched ages ago, but one of the subplot really stuck with me. it follows one of the main characters on his journey to his eventual greatness. in this subplot, he’s stuck in an ice cage and, every night, he’d meet a girl (circumstances are a bit icky, but let’s digress). the ice cage is so dark and freezing that, to both of them, it feels more dreamlike than reality. they even prefer to each other as ‘mộng lang’ and ‘mộng cô’ which loosely translates to ‘dream man’ and ‘dream lady’.

later on, the girl (who turns out to be a princess) hosts an event to search for a consort (although, in honesty, she’s hoping to meet her dream man again). in the event, she hides behind some thick drapes that hide her identity, and asks her suitors questions that only her dream man would be able to answer – or answer correctly, anyway. the guy only comes to the event out of obligation, rather than any actual wish to be the prince consort. however, his intention changes as his turn to go ‘meet’ the princess comes, and then the questions, and then the realization that his dream lady is just behind those drapes.

i just find it so poetic that they only meet each other through bizarre circumstances, that they don’t even know of each other’s true identity, only falling in love with each other’s voice and wits. then, after a while apart, they find each other again, through sheer coincidence, and are able to reconcile on what they’d thought was only a lost connection.

which, ahh, makes me think of an AU, of sorts, for protagoneil. perhaps, they wouldn’t meet in an ice cage, but in a prison (idk, that’s just what my mind decided on), maybe in some place where they’re held captive in rooms next to each other, a place with rules so reclusive that they never get to see each other, only a voice as proof of the other’s existence. their situation – being locked up in a room with only a small window as indication that the outside world does exist, although distant – would make their interaction with each other so surreal, as if the other is nothing more than a figment of their imagination, another sign that they’ve gone mad in this captivity.

hell, we can make this even more tragic by setting in the tenet ‘verse, post-canon. perhaps a mission went awry, and the protagonist finds himself captured by some antagonists with greedy, self-serving purposes for tenet’s inversion technology. perhaps, the protagonist thinks neil’s voice – or whoever it is that sounds so much like the neil he once met – coming through the wall is just his mind coping to the loneliness and isolation. he’s never had problems with either before, but the circumstances are different now. now he’s got a ghost living up in his head, that he’s been missing and thinking about more than he’d ever admit to another soul.

i imagine their conversations can only be held in the night, spoken so quietly – barely above a whisper – so as to not alert the guards. the secrecy drown in complete darkness truly adds another layer of surrealism to it all. they never exchange names – the protagonist bc he doesn’t want to compromise himself, and neil bc well, if the protagonist doesn’t bother to offer name then why should he?

the things they talk about are simple, although unclear on whether what is true and what is warped into something not quite a lie, but close. they talk mostly to keep themselves sane (ironic, isn’t it?), to have a little distraction from the horrid things await them when morning comes.

i imagine the protagonist would wake up one day, call for neil, but get no answer in return. he tries more times, through many nights but still, no answer. neil’s just gone, so suddenly, and the protagonist can’t decide which sense of the word is worst. eventually, after a few more days of torture, of wondering and dreading, the protagonist finds his freedom.

it’s a joined effort, from himself and the tenet team sent to rescue him. i imagine the protagonist checking the room besides, finding it vacant of any furniture and living soul. he decides there that, yeah, perhaps the time in and out of inversion, paired with the isolation and torture he was put through, has really done a number on his mental state.

then, some months later, the protagonist would meet the voice in his head once again, but this time, with confirmation that it’s been real all along.

see, neil’s been moved to another holding facility. the antagonists have wanted him to work for them; have taken interests in the research he’s been doing on a particular field of physics and decided that he would be perfect to help them in their malicious plot for greed. neil... well, i wouldn’t say they broke through him, but he did agree eventually. the torture had been too much, and he was tired – he hated having to go back to the cell they were holding him in, facing this sickening dread as he questioned his sanity.

the voice in his cell had been a great reprieve from the undue punishments on his body, but not enough to completely elevate him from the pain of it. so he “broke”. he agreed to work with the antagonists, to save himself since it was obvious that no one ever would.

and that’s how the protagonist finds him again; when he breaks down the antagonists’ second location and discovers a compliant neil seemingly working for the people that was going to put a whole lot of lives in danger for their own greedy purposes. before they can say anything to each other, though, neil’s taken out by another agent – a sleeping dart placed carefully on his neck and pushed. the protagonist never did get the agents’ identity, having lost track of them in the midst of chaos going around him.

later, when neil is put in their medical care facility, the protagonist stands outside of his room, watching him sleep through the glass window and listening to a report about his conditions. it contains everything from the moment neil went missing from his london flat (presumed dead), to the time he’s spent under the antagonists’ captivity, to the point where they found him. then, the protagonist is shown a document, including various equations and graphs and terms that mostly went through his head.

he looks to the reporting agent, expecting a better explanation. the agent points out that the equations are wrong, but so delicately that she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t thought to take another, harder look.

“even if they’d gotten with it, their plan would’ve failed. that document you’re holding in your hand ensures that.” she turns to look at neil, regarding his sleeping figure. “he might’ve given into the idea of ever getting out of their claws, but he never gave in. he never truly gave them what they’d wanted from him.”

all of that winds down to one simple fact: neil’s passed the test, and the protagonist knows what that means. the protagonist has to wait a few hours for it, though; for neil to finally wake up and have his induction into tenet. in the meantime, he sits on the couch inside neil’s room, and waits, watching neil’s eyelids flutter in sleep, and feeling sorrow/rage/frustration grip tight to his being as he thinks about things that has and will happen to neil.

when neil wakes up, the protagonist is just right there to welcome him into the afterlife. he keeps his speech short, giving neil a brief overview of his situation, but neil isn’t really listening. the protagonist’s words blur together, not because of neil’s groggy mind, but because of a single, simple realization. it hits him so hard that he just can’t keep in the lone tear falling from his eyes. the protagonist sees this, and his heart aches – remembering how it’s felt when he was the one who was lying on the bed, getting told that his entire team had failed to make it out alive – and unlike his own recruited, the protagonist tries to comfort neil with, “listen, i know it’s hard—”

but neil just cuts him off entirely, reciting a phrase he’s said before, to the man he’s thought was just a dream his tired mind made up to keep him company at the late hours of the night. it stops the protagonist right in his tracks, staring down at neil, breathing harshly through his lips because he can’t believe it. he’s thought, also, but apparently, he’s thought wrong.

“i’m glad you’re real,” neil says, as he watches the same realization he’s experienced dawn on the protagonist’s face.

the protagonist takes a moment to respond, still a little bit stunned by neil’s words. then, he takes an easy breath, relaxing his tense shoulders, smiles down at neil - small and private, something just for the too of them - and says, “me too.”

because despite everything that had happened to them both during their time in that prison, they still had each other. they were there for each other, and the protagonist gets it now - the beautiful friendship that neil had alluded to. it is quite beautiful - poetic too, maybe - for them to have found each other in such a hopeless place, then lost that connect, then reconnecting it again because fate has willed it so.

the protagonist can’t help, even more so now that they are together again, looking forward to the things they will get up to - as promised. neil’s smile, sleepy yet sincere, tells him the very same thing.

[formulatrash]

Could I get your opinion on Hamilton? Bc I feel like people either love him and are like he is the nicest person in the universe or hate him and think he’s the worst & tbh while he does seem genuinely good he’s also clearly willing to do quite a lot to win (2007) & I really doubt the Nico thing was one sided either way so... opinions.

Hello, anon - I got two of these so gonna answer this one rather than both .Lewis, man. Where the hell do you start with Lewis? Unquestionably one of the most talented drivers we have seen or will ever see on track. Not just for raw speed or ingenuity but with the way he has been able to adapt and learn across a changing era of cars - something a lot of the other drivers aspiring to GOAT status (Alonso, in particular) just haven’t been able to do. 

People think of Lewis as having unquestionably the best car. But that’s a recent development (and not always true even then) - the last few years he and Jenson were at McLaren, they were wildly outperforming the cars with a really strong driver pairing. (and the order was a little less rigid then, in all fairness)

I’m nearly the same age as Lewis so I remember him when he was a novelty - when what people said was that there was this guy in the junior categories who was fast - and this was always prefixed - he was black. 

People said he was stroppy, had cheating engines (there is no evidence of this, especially when you consider the budget he was working with) and that he had a bad attitude, he was never going to get to Formula One so why put him in your team, a kid like that couldn’t be a champion… in other words the extremely racialised term “uppity.” Like, have absolutely zero illusions on this front, people were not supportive.

Some were, obviously and for every hand up like the McLaren backing, the detractors got louder. So when Lewis took the GP2 title and moved up to F1, he had to come in hot and obnoxious. Especially with Fernando as his teammate. Especially with spygate about to wipe out any shine left on the mangled heap they’d made of the championship trophy that year.

And oh, the disqualification (for anyone not up to speed: the whole McLaren entry was excluded that season for allegedly spying on Ferrari) just validated the detractors: you see, he isn’t that good. He was cheating. 

Lewis has a temper. I don’t mean that in the sense he’s an angry guy, at all, just that there is a certain length you can push him and he will eventually snap, like all of us - he’s not a robot. And if you have to prove yourself again and again and again, in tests way beyond what anyone else is being scrutinised on, knowing that it is unfair and having no way to get past them but to once again, obnoxiously, excel then you will occasionally also make the odd sniping comment. 

I’ve never heard him say anything stroppier than he once threw a bit of a shit fit because he thought Jenson unfollowed him on Twitter, though - whereas the howling conniptions when he succeeds in whatever the latest arbitrary challenge someone has decided he must pass to be considered successful? Those continue to the day.

Lewis, of course, is now pretty zen. He’s spent a long time working on himself and has been repairing his relationship with his father (who used to be his manager until they somewhat explosively parted ways) and with old rivals. He’s been growing as a person and a driver, he’s been caring less about what people think. The Lewis now is very different to the Lewis even a few years ago - clearly a lot of self-reflection and space has happened, after what was years of charging around and also some - bluntly - horrible psychological shit which the Merc team definitely have to take some responsibility for because it was their success formula to set him and Nico against each other to push each other forwards.

And for all the bitterness between him and Nico, they were never, like, really loathing each other. Just couldn’t work together. I find it really ghoulish how eager the press is to see Carlos and Lando go the same way, asking when will you fall out? all the time like it wasn’t obvious both Lewis and Nico were in pretty horrible states during it. (I saw some of the aftermath via one of them and like, that’s some trauma right there :/)

Has Lewis had his controversies? For sure. Some of them I have been upset by - like when he posted an instagram story telling his nephew he couldn’t wear a dress. Thing about Lewis is that, especially as he’s got older, he doesn’t double-down on things like that, he goes away and reflects - and designed a range of skirts and modelled them for an interview where he was called on it, then went to Disneyland and walked round with his nephew wearing that princess dress he’d mocked him for. [warning: Daily Mail link sorry, only site that had the pics] 

Yes, ideally he would not have been a prang in the first place but it is also very good to publicly show growth. Especially in F1. 

I loved old, obnoxious fuckboy Lewis. He was the middle finger F1 needed showing - and his resilience to the number of times the press and the talking heads and the social circles of F1 tried to push him back down, only to spring back up with a blindingly-polished trophy… ah, you love to see it. 

Lewis means more to me than almost any other driver - and like, I vibe heavily with several - because he is that outlier example who shouldn’t have been counted but who keeps forcing them to score him into the ledgers of history, even now.

Is it good having a vocal advocate for women and for LGBT rights, who isn’t scared to call out motorsports prejudices and racism, so prominently in the sport? Yes. It’s a hard truth that he had to get this level of success in order to gain a platform because no when Lewis speaks people have to listen and report it. Because if his Instagram story can turn into a scandal, it can also be a communications platform. It’s why he holds a lot of sway with Liberty Media. 

Now Lewis’ rights to be in the sport are unassailable. So he can start on other fights he couldn’t take at the time - there’s a reason the F1 press still gives Wehrlein (who is one of the sweetest drivers I have ever worked with) the “uppity” treatment and it’s fucking sad. It’s so embarrassing to work in this industry that’s a thousand miles behind even other embarrassing industries on this global fucking shame. 

Look, I don’t give a fuck about the whole GOAT thing because sport is a continuous cycle (err, most years) and so ‘all time’ is a dumb thing to put in an accolade. But Lewis is, in my opinion, the best Formula One driver we have ever witnessed the career of. He is devastatingly good, has honed himself to a level where mistakes are such a rarity they’re a headline in and of themselves.

To maintain that, year after year after year? It’s not human. It’s a man who’s pushed himself beyond the pinnacle of the sport because he has proven everything and still someone will be typing out some snide little piece, at the same time I am writing this, that Hamilton will never be the greatest because [arbitrary mathematics about how you can’t count three of his titles so we don’t have to respect him yet. Not yet. It’s not that we don’t respect him because of who he is. It’s just one last test….]

Does Lewis being so good at Formula One driving it’s not really comprehensible below the level of fellow world champion make other drivers bad? No. He’s not walking to the titles. And maybe one day someone will be better than Lewis. Maybe he won’t be on form this year, somehow, for the first time in years of racing - if it ever starts again. Maybe he’ll retire to make tracksuits and rescue dolphins. 

I am glad he seems happy now. He looks incredible. Man gets hotter and nicer with every year and you absolutely love to see it. His growth in himself and the sport has been equally impressive and his transformative power, both in terms of pushing forward the sporting side and in terms of using his platforms for good, is awesome. 

(Lewis doesn’t have to speak out about stuff; I know people think it’s naff or crass or obnoxious or preachy but he could just not - and he knows people’d bash him for something else) 

That said, I wish he’d put some money into sponsoring some grass roots motorsport but that is literally my only beef with him. But yeah, we stan a complicated, evolutionary boy.

[dameronology]

circles

this isn’t fan fiction -- it’s just something i wrote out of boredom bc i was in my feels and want to have a lil catharsis 

The break-up was hard.

Expected, yes. A long time coming, even more so. But easy? No. Not in the slightest. 

It had been building up slowly but surely for the better part of two years, seeping into the little cracks in their foundations and steadily making them deeper. What had started as minor annoyances and tolerable grievances had blown into unbearable pain, suffocating what little they had left until it had withered away and died completely. The hardest part, perhaps, was that it didn’t make sense. They had worked so well at one point - taken random getaway breaks on weekends just because, went for spontaneous drives at 3AM just to listen to the Killers’ new album for the twentieth time, got drunk and gave each other the most ridiculous hand poked tattoos. Everything that had made them so good existed solely under the joy of their heyday, basking in the glow of how easy it had been to be so young and stupid. 

Nothing had mattered. There hadn’t been a single worry in the world. No pressure to settle down, no pressure to be an adult just yet or to take anything too seriously. The fact they were completely different people is what had made it so good, so fun. The perfect balance of vulnerability and stupidity; fragility and naivety. She’d existed solely for him and he lived entirely for her; the centre of one another’s orbit, gravitating around one another in circles, toing and froing in the best way possible. 

That was the problem: circles. 

Months turned into years, and soon their young adulthood stretched into their mid twenties, early thirties. The issue of their difference was easily ignored by domestic routine; working long hours, focusing on promotions, paying off their college debt. They found a nice house on the outskirts of Philadelphia - two bedrooms and a big garden. He had said the second room was perfect for kids, and she’d commented on what a perfect home office it would have made. They’d laughed it off. That was something they’d become good at it; making a joke out of red flags, passing them off as if they were tiny quirks. 

That was the beginning of the circles. Waking up early, working all day, coming home late. Having a date night every Saturday with less-than-stellar sex, because that’s what Cosmopolitan had promised would keep the spark alive. Every other one of their friends had broken up with their respective college partner; some had gotten married, some had kids, some had gotten divorced, some had gone to prison. Meanwhile, they’d stayed entirely the same. What was it he’d said about it? We’ve just matured. 

It was on the way home from his dad’s 60th birthday party that he’d brought up the idea of a future. Not just a future, but the future. Marriage, kids, mortgages, all the long term stuff that should have been expected when you’d been in a relationship as long as they had. What had it been? Ten years, maybe. It wasn’t unfair of him to expect it from her, or at least to see it reasonable that they have the conversation. She’d nervously laughed it off, making a joke about how their five-year-old rescue dog was close enough. He’d smiled at her terrible joke, before dropping the conversation entirely. 

Circles, again. 

A cycle of him broaching a subject of the future, and her making a bad joke to dodge it. Everyone around them was upsizing houses and getting married - or remarried - and having their second, third, fourth child. The world around them was going at a thousand miles an hour and yet, she refused to take her foot off the brake. Nothing about them had changed. She saw it as a good thing. He couldn’t stand it. 

That was the beginning of their descent. They’d both realised that they were too different to possibly keep their worlds intertwined; whilst they’d once gravitated towards each other, they now polarised. The issue laid in the difference between knowing things were bad and admitting things were bad. Their relationship was so familiar - so constant and steady. It had become a comfort blanket for them both. They’d made a habit of holding onto the promises they’d made as twenty-somethings, perhaps forgetting that the people who had those pledges all those years ago weren’t the same ones who were trying so hard to keep them. 

It had taken a pregnancy scare for them to realise it. When there was only one line in the window of the test, she’d been relieved. He’d been gutted. Their simultaneous sigh of relief and we can try again next month was a testament to the bigger picture; a testament to the different things they so desperately wanted. A career woman and a family man, together only because of their love for another. There came a point where they had to ask themselves if it was enough, if their feelings were enough common ground to justify staying together.

They could have compromised. Instead of the three kids he wanted, they could have had one. She could have worked less and he could have stayed at home with their hypothetical children. Isn’t what relationships were about? Compromise. But, that probably applied to what colour you painted the kitchen, or whose parents you went to for Christmas. Not fundamental things like how many kids you had, or where you lived, or things that you needed to be happy. 

That was probably the bit that hurt the most. She needed a high-pressure job and career satisfaction to be happy. He needed a domestic life and kids of his own. There was nothing wrong either of those things, but there was something missing from their respective lists: each other. 

The break-up itself wasn’t the hardest part, nor was telling their families or cancelling the holiday they had booked for the following year. The grief and shock didn’t truly hit them until they were packing their respective belongings.

Stood on opposite sides of the bedroom, metres feelings like miles. The air between them was thick with tension; unanswered questions and what-ifs. What if we just tried a little harder and what if this was supposed to be it? All questions that neither of them dared answer, for fear of going back on the decision. The trepidation of leaving behind what they’d thought was going to be forever was already swallowing them whole; eating them alive and consuming their entire beings with memories of lost laughter and sweet memories. They were packing up the bedroom that they’d shared for almost a decade, stripping the four walls of bittersweet conversations and forced destiny. 

They took the photos off the walls. Ones of them in Paris, ones of them in New York, ones of them in London; all younger, past versions of themselves, before the glow in their eyes had been dimmed by the revelation of dull reality. False promises of domestic bliss that lead to false hopes of happiness; a sad reminder of a better time, when they hadn’t realised that forever would never quite come to fruition . All gone now. All laid to rest, surrounded by bubble wrap and forced into a storage unit downtown that they’d half-heartedly agreed to go halves on. 

The house was sold quickly - something the estate agent had told them was lucky. Nothing about the situation felt lucky, but having the weight of the shared property off their shoulders took the burden off of everything a little. The extra money was good too. She moved back to the city and invested in a loft, whilst he purchased an almost-identical house to their old one, just a few streets away. She had a balcony and he had a backyard. 

A few more years went by, and they both got what they wanted. She made partner at her firm and started to earn triple figures, reaping the rewards of her hard work and playing in the big leagues. He found a nice, simple woman and got married, eventually having three kids, all with chubby cheeks and toothy smiles. Letting go of another had been the best thing they’d ever done; their relationship had tied them down, forced them to give up what they wanted because staying was easier than going.

Almost six years to the day that they broke up, they passed one another in the street. She was just leaving a meeting, and he’d taken his family into the city to watch a game. It was on Fifth Street, not far away from the first apartment they rented together. Their eyes met - strange eyes, but ones they each remembered so vividly - and they smiled. Nothing was said. Nothing had to be said. They were whey they needed to be.

[call-me-merlyn]

I found a list of my favorite things you ever said to me. I cried in a way that I haven’t since I was a small child- broken by my parents’ words, mistakes, and anger. I curled my knees to myself and remembered that I can do hard things. I started to wonder where we went wrong. Because my feelings for you never changed. But then I realized that was never the issue. These words I read now ring as true today as they did over the four years you wrote them. But I want them back. I want you back. I want pragmatism and growth. I want to talk about the hard things and work them through. But I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you anything because you don’t want to hear it. Because you’re hurt and you want space. So if you stumble upon this blog- the one I told you not to look at all those years ago- I will let a few snippets of your words remind you. Mind you, these are 12 out of about 30.

1. Baby. I want the future with you. It just hit me so hard. I want the visions I have. I want us and I don't see that changing. We are the most beautiful couple I have ever encountered. Not just because we're both convinced the other is drop dead gorgeous, but because I see such magnificent potential in us, together. We are that rare couple that could actually have the dream life that everyone wants and fears is impossible or that they don't deserve it. Health, happiness, adventures, perfect children, successful careers, growth and excitement, cuddles, intellectual stimulation, respect for each other, kisses that leave us breathless, freedom, good friends that we both care about, a lovely home, a dorky dog or five, all the sex we can handle, our families coming together wonderfully, and true fucking love. I want it all with you and I believe that we can have it with all my heart. Ugh I want it and I'm so excited to build towards the future we want. With you. Every damn day, one day at a time.

2. Morning love. To build a home? I'll always like yours more. I'm binging your music this morning. Speaking of songs that make me cry. Night in shining armor? I love that whole analogy. Your words are one of my favorite things about you. I love the music that spills from your lips, whether you're singing or laughing or reading or teasing me. It's all heavenly music to my ears. I'm so proud to be your person, your once and future someone. I love you so much. The dark times have passed baby, you brought the light back into my life.

3. This one's hard to explain. I've never met someone who is such a clean harmony. Your identity, your character, is a beautiful, pure chord. Every interaction I have with you I hear that resonance, and the notes weave together perfectly. That chord resonates with who I am on such a deep level, and I could hear it from the very first moment we interacted. I want to listen to that chord every day, to hear it form your melody, day in and day out. Puzzle out it's layers and listen to you add more. And to play my own song to match yours, to create our own wonderful song in this life.

4. You elicit feeling so well with words, sometimes it makes me feel inadequate

The way you express yourself so effortlessly

Because I've always prided myself on communicating verbally

But it comes pretty effortlessly to me too

Especially when I talk about you

I know I keep coming back to this, I'm sorry

But it resonates so strongly with me

To imagine you as a song, chord, or melody

The way your music weaves with mine

Haunting, ethereal, and divine

You make my eyes and heart shine

With love and affection, at my most painful times

When I can't feel it about myself

You come to my house and put happy memories upon my shelf

I want to show you how much you mean to me

So that you will always see

You are my light

And in the middle of the night

When I roll over and feel your breath

On my neck, I don't fear death

Because a life next to you is a life worth living

The love I have for you is a love worth giving

5. I was watching How I Met Your Mother, and to be honest that show really means a lot to me. I'm not sure why I bonded it with it so hard, it feels kind of silly in retrospect, but I did. In the episode, the main character runs into the girl who left him at the altar for another man, and they talk about true love and who you choose to be with. And the guy has an open moment about his yearning for that special connection that people find so rarely. That spark between people that's so unique and magical when it occurs. The song Careful by Michelle Featherstone plays in the background. I'm sure you've heard it, and it just pulled at my heartstrings. Maybe listen to it as you read this? Bc I am as I write. It makes me think of you. I've said it before, and the words fall flat, but I'm so damn grateful for you. Every piece of you. The fractals, the perfectly formed little moments of unadulterated Merlyn, that come together to form this perfectly cohesive being of fucking light. You know me. And I don't like to admit that I falter, or that I need help from anyone. It goes against what I've been trained to be by my father, my experiences, and my own cynical nature. Before you walked into my life...I wasn't entirely happy. I was missing something. I could feel it. And it made me ache. I went looking for it everywhere, even though I wasn't sure what it would look like when I found it. But I knew how it would feel. And you... you rescued me. From my own damn self. I'm prone to loneliness for a number of reasons. I'm solitary. I like to be independent. I'm proud. I can be harsh and judgmental. I get exhausted by humanity. I can be very sensitive when I'm vulnerable, and I don't like to give more than a handful of people the power to touch my heart. But since you walked into my life? I don't have to look anymore. I have never felt such constantly genuine, gentle, fierce, and unselfish support from anyone. Not from my parents, not from friends, my cousins, my lovers. No one has ever looked at me the way you do. No one has ever been so unyieldingly loving. Every time I have trusted you with more of my heart and my self, you do your absolute best to make me feel valued and loved. No matter how that best manifested, I have always felt your effort. You are always careful with my heart. I used to carry around this utter, soul crushing feeling that I missed someone. Someone vital. But there was no one to miss. And I didn't know where to direct that desire for connection. I got lonely because I wanted someones company...that I didn't know. But since I met you, I haven't felt that even once. I have only rarely felt lonely, and even in those moments, it was because I fucking missed YOU. Your laugh, your touch, our connection. And that's such a revelation to me. To know the face of the person I feel I've been missing all this time. It's been you. I love you, Merlyn. You are an unparalleled treasure to me.

6. God damn it Merlyn, I have so much love for you. I'm so lucky to have you, the thought of losing you is a nightmare. I want late night quesadillas and then to push each other to eat right. I want to scoff at each other's baby names until we get to ones we both love. I want to be your shoulder to lean on, cry on, or try to dislocate with a kimura. I want yours to be the same for me (maybe without the kimura bit?) I want to sing duets with you and write stories on lazy Sunday afternoons. I want to make you grin and I want to make you bite your lip. I want to hear your breathing every night when I go to sleep. I want to put Tristan on my shoulders, have a debate with Chris, try to get your cat to like me. I want you to cuddle into me and let me hold you at night even when I get hot because you're the most precious fucking thing in the world to me. I want you to train with my dad and shop with my mom. I want to get drinks with your mom and laugh at your dad's dirty jokes. I want to travel with you, go jet skiing on tropical islands and throw snowballs at each other in the mountains. I want to walk around crowded cities with you until I get too anxious but you tell me to chill out and stop being such a baby about it. I want to hear my daughter call you mother. I want to see you spin like you did when I first walked you home. Nothing brings me more joy than the thought of sharing the little moments, the big moments, and everything in between with you. Nothing is worth jeopardizing that future for me. I love you with all that I am. Count on it.

7. I just read all your words top to bottom and they hit me hard. I've been looking at them as bits and pieces. One day, one note at a time, not a tapestry. All together in one sitting, I can just feel where your heart was, and maybe still is. I hope it still is in some ways, because I've never been loved like how you love me. Not with such admiration or surety. I've never been wanted the way you want me. It makes me feel simultaneously unworthy and determined to live up to your love. It breaks me to feel the pain in your pen strokes. I want to wrap you up in my arms and fend away anything that would ever make you cry. I hate myself sometimes for making you cry. It breaks me every time, a corruption of my purpose. Every time, to read the simple words "today was hard..." It rips me apart. I love, live to see you smile. To laugh with you. To make music with you, whatever the form. I'm sorry for all the pain I've ever caused you, my darling. It's never my intention. You are my most precious gift, and words fall short of expressing the breadth and complexity of my feelings for you. They boil down to what you've written over and over again though: I want this life with you. I want all the complications, all the routine days, all the late night phone calls, and the adventures. I want to walk around knowing we have the same last name. I want you. Endlessly I want you. I wish I could pull a fragment of that feeling out of my chest and give it to you just so that you'd understand. God I miss you. I love you. You are my partner, and I hope that stays true for the rest of our lives. I can't say it enough. You are everything to me. I want you to express every part of you, never stop, because I love them all. Every mellifluous note in your melodies, every word of poetry in your fascinating mind, every fierce moment on the mat, every tear that falls in your fragile, vulnerable moments. I want to be there. To give you love and to be the best partner I can be. For you. God I can never say enough

8. Kay I'm heading to bed so gonna write this out. It's difficult. Love defies definition by its very nature. Which is a paradoxical statement right out the gate but whatever. I started writing my response in a philosophical approach but it didn't feel right. There's no need to ramble about Forms or essence or any of that philosophy mumbo jumbo. All that matters is how you opened my eyes. I used to think that love was about passion above and to the detriment of everything else. I used to think that love and pain were joined at the hip, inseparable. I used to fear that love was a curse, a burden, a surrender. I used to think that to fall for someone was a trap, and that you were taking a terrible gamble by giving someone the power to destroy you. I used to think that relationships were ropes and that love was a noose. I used to think that love was jealous, demanding, forceful, combative. I used to think that love was sporadic and messy. I used to think that there was no true, sustainable happiness to be found. You've turned it all around. Hell, you've upended the board and thrown away the rulebook. You've shown me that love is a balance of passion and choice, that they should play off each other build each other up. One is useless without the other. Passion will burn you out, but so too can you drown going through the motions. I've been through both. You're the only one that has struck the balance with me. You've shown me that the only necessary pains from love are the growing pains. I've been given and dealt horrible wounds, been through wars. Our relationship is the only one in which both parties can put their weapons down. You've shown me that love is a tank of oxygen when you're drowning, a shoulder to lean on, an investment. Trusting you with my heart has liberated and empowered me. I believe that trusting me with yours has done the same for you. We use that understanding of each other to lend strength, to give joy, to protect. You've shown me that relationships are lanterns and that love is the sun. You lit up my world. You've shown me that love is generous, thoughtful, gentle, supportive. You've shown me that it's steady and pure. You've shown me that happily ever after isn't just in storybooks. It's attainable. We have an obligation to chase it. We've been given a gift. And I will be grateful for it for the rest of my life. I will cherish it. I will cherish you. You've given me everything. You are my true love. Goodnight I hope you sleep well

9. Darling, gorge yourself on my love

I pray to God that it’s enough

To fill you up and keep us above

The water line of that rising slough

Darling, gorge yourself on my heart

I pray to God it’s what you need

Ignore the pain in the darker part

Come home again to me to feed

Darling, gorge yourself on my mind

I pray to God it’s what you want

Those angry echoes you may find

Don’t let them drive you from this haunt

Darling gorge yourself on me

I pray to God I’m what you crave

I know I’m flawed but I can be

The one who saves you, the one you save

Oh darling, I’ll gorge myself on you

On your mind and body, heart and soul

So darling, gorge yourself on me too

To keep us human, keep us whole

10. I want us to be tethered by the sea, to back each other to the hilt, to paint the walls red with love, to get lost in the light. Baby I promise I will take true care of you, tell you that some things last, and know you better than your piano. Because you found me. You came out of nowhere, you made me fall in love with a single touch, and this ain't a haunted house no more. I can't take my mind off of you. Only you can help me to forget the terror that comes and goes in waves. You keep me warm, and I know that all will be well and we'll be just fine. So don't give up love. Three more months, flyin your way home to me. We'll be inches apart and even closer at heart. So send me your location, cause I'm jealous of the wind that ripples through your clothes. Put your eyes on me, and I know a place that we can get away. Say you won't let go, tell me it's real, and let's go somewhere only we know. We won't need to take our clothes off to have a good time, but I'll get the lights and you lock the door, cuz we won't leave that room til we both feel more. Cause I see it all without the lights. No one will ever see you the way my eyes do. You are something to behold. Elegant and bold, you are unforgettable. You are the fire and the flood. Last night I woke the fuck up, realized I never wanted anything so much as to drown in your love. If you could read my mind love, what a tale my thoughts could tell. I feel life for the very first time: love in my arms and the sun in my eyes. Ohh I fall apart, and I can't help falling in love with you. I still can't believe that I found love where it wasn't supposed to be. Right in front of me. At (college). I made a fumbling play for your heart, and the act struck a spark. I want to be with you for the rest of my life and beyond. No grave can hold my body down. I'll crawl home to you and go straight into your arms. I'm in love with all that you are.

11. You always wonder about the future. What makes you different from the others. There are infinite answers, but some of the biggest ones are that..you make me understand and feel things that people always say but never mean. Until you, I've never truly wanted all of someone. And I mean it when I say I want ALL of you. I am in love with every inch of you, every word that comes out of your mouth, every little habit, every quirk. I have wanted every piece of you in every moment that I've known you without fail. I have never adored anyone or anything so much. You are perfection to me. In the truest sense of the word baby. You make the cliches make sense. You make them feel not cliche. It's incredible. You make sense in my bones. I am so in love with you. I can picture nothing more glorious than a life with you. That's how I know you're the one. Because it's obvious. And when it's right, it should just he obvious. Easiest choice in the world.

12 Goodnight ____. I hope you sleep well. I really enjoyed hanging out and listening to you play tonight. I know you were half joking about how I should be paying you compliments, but your music abilities really are such a gift. It always makes me happy when you use them. You get this energy about you that’s so wonderful to see. I’m listening to your soundcloud stuff again now. Been a while since I’ve done that, haven’t had access to the account for a bit. I wish you had more of your stuff on here. It’s all so lovely. It always makes me think about us. You don’t seem to care for it much, but especially To My Future Someone. I hope I live up to all you dreamt I’d be when you wrote those words. I hope to the gods I’m the one you sang about. Because you are everything I ever wanted in a true love, and more. Things that I didn’t even know I needed. You’ve made me a kinder, much more grateful man. And a happier soul. You deserve the best in this world, and I’ll always do my utmost to be him. I’m so in love with you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, my light. Sweet dreams.

When did the thought of losing me stop being a nightmare? Because the hurt was never more than this. Never more than this love. You said in another snippet that you’d do anything to be the person I built a home with; you’d do your best to be the my person and to never hurt me. But you don’t want to be with me. And you chose your nightmare over your dreams. And I still choose you. I still chose you every second of every fucking day. It was my nightmare too and I’m living it.

But, I’m changing. I’m harder now. The tears don’t fall quite as easily as they used to. And at least I know who I am now. I am a warrior. I am beautiful. I am strong. I am new. Don’t think 8 weeks can change someone?? Come see me again. I’ll show you exactly who I’m not anymore. The only thing that hasn’t changed is my love for you.

And if you want to lose these words and this love, so be it. I won’t fight you. I won’t fear you or that anymore. I don’t want to be the only one fighting. I can’t. And I won’t be afraid of my worst nightmares because they have come true and even though I pray I won’t lose you, nothing in this life is certain. If you don’t want to fight, I will be someone else’s light someday. And I will shine unashamed; unabashed; strong and sure. I will bring beautiful children, music, and love into the world. But until then, I’ll be my own light, and set my darkness aflame every morning, just as I have since the day you left. After all, there’s not much darkness left anymore.

[secret-engima]

alyss-spazz-penedo

hey, @secret-engima​, hear me out: what if GILGAMESH became Glaucus' Shield? Like, after the two Murder Brats jumped into the Tempering Grounds and Glaucus has to fish them out, the man takes a moment to chew GIL out for endangering children like that, he SAW that last swing and it was aimed unacceptably close to a vital area, what even is he doing STILL haunting the damn Tempering Grounds anyway when the next worthwhile opponent won't be for literal decades (ie. Gladio)

alyss-spazz-penedo

So Gil is clubbed over the head with the idea that he doesn't actually have to follow 200 years of habit and, like. Ardyn's moved on, is living a life, and Gil KNOWS what's coming and that there's no value to holding his post, killing off idiots, once these people leave bc Cor was the only worthwhile opponent for literal decades. He can... he can take a VACATION.

alyss-spazz-penedo

....He has no idea what to do with a vacation, so he falls back on EVEN OLDER HABITS and is like well let's play Shield for a LC then. And maybe, MAYBE he'd pick Ardyn, but there's just. So much history there. That wouldn't... that wouldn't WORK, it would hurt them both just to try.

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Which leaves just one LC available (arguably, bc Titus would absolutely fight him for the position but the brat's too young still. Maybe in a few years). And, Gilgamesh KNOWS what's up with Glaucus-once-Cor-Leonis, might be the only person in the world who DOES know, and that's//

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*and that's... that's something I think Glaucus might really need. Just. Someone to help him remember who he WAS,

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(Also, the thought of Ardyn and Gil wandering around being terrible at self-care and utter bemused by the world amuses me. Also Besithia would probably be an Utter Scientific Glee)

Me: *deep breath*

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

BUCKLE UP RAMBLE FICLET INBOUND.

-It starts after the Murder Children are idiots and Glaucus has to come rescue them. Titus and Cor have never been more humbled, confused, and terrified than watching Glaucus snark at a 2k year old potential eldritch abomination and GET AWAY WITH IT. Glaucus actually makes Gilgamesh shuffle in shame when he lectures about how close he came to actually HURTING two of Glaucus’s kids. How dare.

-Then Glaucus takes a long, hard look at Gil and abruptly tells him to take a vacation. It’s not like the world is gonna end if he leaves the Tempering Grounds for a decade or so (Titus and Cor are a Fear™, don’t tell the monster to LEAVE it’s hideout and roam the world Glaucus!!). Gil stares at Glaucus in a stunned silence, Glaucus grunts and walks away, lecturing the two murder children.

-Gil thinks ... long and hard on Glaucus’s words.

-In the end decides it’s a moot point because when he was first cursed to this place he did try to leave a few times but he couldn’t. His curse wouldn’t let him. Pity though ... a vacation had sounded ... nice.

-That’s right around the time Ifrit shows up.

-Now, Ifrit doesn’t like humans, even after giving Glaucus his Blessing for the time-travel thing. He tolerates a few of them, even finds Glaucus and his group funny, but on the whole doesn’t like them. Know what he does like? Screwing over Bahamut. And when Glaucus mentioned Gilgamesh’s curse situation within Ifrit’s earshot (ie said it aloud at all because Ifrit tends to watch them from afar like his only tolerated cable tv channel), Ifrit got IDEAS.

-So Gilgamesh is in his Tempering Grounds, minding his own business and being broody bored when there’s a rush of fire and Ifrit the Infernian is standing there looking ... cunning.

-“Mortal.” Ifrit intones.

-“Not really,” Gilgamesh snarks because he’s a walking suit of armor cursed to live until the Chosen King comes, what’s Ifrit gonna do? Curse him again?

-Ifrit just grins “How would you like to change that?”

-Excuse him?

-Anyway after much smug talking from the Infernian, much sarcasm from Gilgamesh, and some severe bending of the rules of curses with a little shapeshifting magic thrown in for flavor, Gilgamesh kinda- blinks and finds himself outside the Tempering Grounds. In the sunlight.

-For the first time in 2k years.

-Yeah there might have been a panic attack or three. Especially because he now had lungs with which to HAVE a panic attack again. Ifrit had granted him a human form (one-armed and with a scar on his back just like the missing arm of his armor and the rend Titus had made) which technically Ifrit shouldn’t have been able to, except apparently he can just this once because he’s not bothering to use a human disguise and he was GOOD at this kind of magic while the rest of the Astrals were too busy being holier than thou to bother learning human-friendly enchantments.

-Gilgamesh sets off into the wilds, quickly figures out he has forgotten how to maintain an eating or sleeping schedule and he’s probably gonna go into a coma or something if he travels alone. So with a dry smile (that feels so good he HAS FACIAL EXPRESSIONS AGAIN. WOOT.) he sets off for where he can feel the magic of the time-traveling Sword.

-A week-ish after Ifrit shows up, so maybe 2-3 weeks after the Murder Children do their thing, Glaucus is having some “me time” out in the forest (happily murdering things to bring back to camp later without having a nattering crowd on his heels, he loves his idiots and Regis’s group, but sometimes they’re ... a bit much) when all the hairs on his neck prickle. He looks up and sees two red eyes glowing faintly in the shadows.

-The figure steps out wordlessly, hand away from his sword. One arm is missing and the man stands at a massive 7′6″, his eyes are a dark red that glints in the low lightning, his shaggy brown hair is pulled back into half-tail to keep it out of his face, which has scars on the right side from some old fight.

-Glaucus lowers his sword, but doesn’t ease from his stance, “I didn’t know you could look human, Gil,” he says almost flippantly.

-“Had a little help from your pet Astrals,” Gilgamesh retorts, his smile tugging at his scars. His posture is relaxed and non-threatening and almost ... uncertain. Like he isn’t sure what to say or how Glaucus will react.

-Glaucus just looks at him thoughtfully before snorting, “My gang of idiots is not the best place for a vacation.”

-Gilgamesh is blunt and open, “I’ve forgotten how to sleep when the moon rises, when to eat so I won’t pass out. I cannot die until the Chosen King comes into his own, but it is still unpleasant. I also...” he hesitates, “I do not remember how to function without a purpose. To fight. To guard the Grounds. To await the Last Shield. Without them ... I am lost.”

-“So you came to me.”

-“You are the only Lucis Caelum without a Shield.”

-Glaucus sneers “A Sword doesn’t need a Shield,” he scoffs, “and isn’t Ardyn more your speed?”

-Gilgamesh winces, “I have made my apologies,” and hadn’t that been a dramafest when Glaucus dragged the newly purified Ardyn to the Tempering Grounds for Gilgamesh to apologize to him, “but we will never stand united as a Shield and a King. I have broken his trust once, he does not give it a second time. Not in the way he would need for me to be his Shield. Besides,” and now Gilgamesh smiles ruefully, “For all his bite, the young Drautos is more a Shield than the Little Lion will ever be.”

-Glaucus flinches at the far off memory, of promising to be Regis’s second Shield, of protecting him no matter what only to fail. But Gilgamesh did not mean the words as an insult and the man makes a point. For all his recklessness and snark and fury, Titus is protective. His instinct is to kill on behalf of something rather than just to feel the adrenaline in his veins. He is protective of Ardyn, and Ardyn listens to the boy. Glaucus sheaths his sword and flexes his hands, “I don’t know how to have a Shield,” he admits softly, “you know I’m not ... natural.” Not a natural LC, not a born one, a time-traveler added to the line for the sake of the future and nothing more.

-“Neither am I,” Gilgamesh shrugs, “it is nothing to be ashamed of. You have the instincts to forge a Shield Bond imprinted in your very magic. I will swear fealty, and you will command me.”

-“Doesn’t that take trust?” Glaucus points out, “You’ve tried to kill me once before, and I know what you did to Ardyn.”

-A pause. A weighted reply of, “it takes trust. The trust that I will fight by your side and be strong enough to watch your back, that I will voice my opposition but obey your every command. The trust that there is no secret you can hold that will turn me away from you.” The last part is meaningful, pointed.

-They stand there in the increasing gloom of dusk for a long time. A former Leonine Sword and a Cursed Shield.

-Then Glaucus laughs, rough and wild and bloody. His eyes spark silver-bright as his magic reaches out and angrily, possessively tangles around Gilgamesh. It carves away the old, tattered, withered bond he once held with Somnus, a blade cutting away a rotted limb, then coils into place. A silent demand for loyalty, a silent acceptance of all Gilgamesh is and has done. Gilgamesh kneels and swears fealty to a new king, a old lion with glittering claws, and in the quiet of twilight, Glaucus names him Gildas, Gilgamesh’s old name from before he was the Mystic’s Shield, his current name of blood and trials and terror, both cast aside in favor of the new one. A new start.

-Gildas rises and follows Glaucus back to camp.

-While the rest of the groups stare in surprise at the massive, one-armed giant of a man Glaucus comes back with, Ardyn stills. Gildas and Ardyn stare at each other for some time, long enough for Titus to bristle protectively, not quite recognizing Gildas as the unarmored and once-more human Gilgamesh. Then Ardyn smiles, sad and understanding and ... forgiving, and pats the Haven in welcome, “Come, friend, introduce yourself to us and enjoy a meal.”

-Gildas dips his head, submission and gratitude all in one, “I am Gildas,” he rumbles, “and-”

-Glaucus interrupts, a slight, possessive lion’s growl in his voice, “He is my Shield.”

-The camp erupts into chatter and questions and shouting save Ardyn, who just smiles sadly and shuffles over to make room for an old once-friend. They will never be what they once were, will never trust each other like they once did, but Ardyn has always been too forgiving of a soul when the scourge did not turn him bitter, and he knows that Gilgamesh has been trapped in the Tempering Grounds for two thousand years with only the voices of the dead to keep him company as he awaited the Chosen King, just as Ardyn was trapped for two thousand years with only the screaming of the daemons to break the silence. In Ardyn’s mind, Gilgamesh has been punished enough.

-Better to forgive and move on in this new time, than to hold onto grudges two thousand years gone.

[agl03]

As a on and off Deke fan how do you think his development will be in s7? I mean in s5 I loved Deke first being reluncant to help the people who got his parents killed and betraying them to sacrificing himself for a cause he could finally believe in bc he finally had hope. And then he went back with the team found the family he never had, lightened up, etc. s6 i feel like idk the team wasn’t very nice to him and he was a little annoying and treated like comedic relief to a static earth-

team. And until FitzSimmons came back he was ngl but kinda annoying? And I loved his speech in 6x12 one of my fave moments of the season for sure but I feel like they could’ve built up to it better? And I’m excited for him to come to his own in s7 but do you expect more development for him? Like s5 had? Or are we going to get him just having a “funny” crush on Daisy or the team just hating him for 13 hours straight?

Hi Anon,

Oh boy, I apologize in advance for this because boy to I have feelings about how Deke’s arcs has gone down and how he’s treated overall.   I’ve got a few metas that are in the abyss of my blog so this will be a good place to pile it all together.

To start out I love Deke...we named our dog after him, he’s one of my kiddos favorites, and I love the Fitzsimmons family overall and desperately am hoping that we get one good full family adventure before it ends.

For Season 5 Deke its pretty amazing to learn that he was supposed to be killed off pretty early on but the writers loved Jeff so much and what he brought to the cast and the character they kept him on.  Especially when you see that there were hints about his lineage from the moment we met him.  This also lead to a great deal of math as I tried to figure out the timing and we found that indeed there would have been enough of a window for Fitzsimmons (or someone else on the team to have an older child or grandchild at this point).

In Season 5 the first time we saw each member of the Fitzsimmons Family they were masked.   Jemma wearing the gas mask, Deke in the Star Lord esque number, and Fitz as Bashtok.  

Therefore I feel the decision was made pretty early on to keep him around and to make him Fitzsimmons Grandson.  I personally enjoyed the hints as it followed what they did with Radcliffe in season 4, hinting that he could indeed be Fitz’s father whom was unknown to the fandom, again the writers talked about it but instead we got Alistair...RIP Dadcliffe theory I still love you   

Giving Deke that hero arc towards the end of the A arc, having him help the team even though they didn’t listen to him, were just more and more hints.  

Where I was disappointed with his development in Season 5 was as you said.  He finally had his family back, his grandparents that his mother had spoken so lovingly about.  And aside from a few really lovely consoling moments with Jemma and a small team up with Fitz in Option 2....he turned into a love sick puppy dog for Daisy.  Part of me get its, the writers needing to focus on Fitz’s break and the teams overall split and dysfunction as the end of the world neared  It was very disappointing to see their final scene cut as well.  I would have much rather seen him sticking with his Grandparents, running away with them and Yoyo, or Hale doing something with the knowledge she had of his linage than him just following Daisy around.

Moving onto Season 6 I’d had a bit of hope he’d be on Team Space Fitz rescue, but once I started getting that split story feel from the cast filming I knew he was on earth trying to find his own way.   Again I totally agree, the writers didn’t seem to know what to do with him between Code Yellow and when Fitzsimmons returned and he desperately tried to connect with them, especially Fitz.  He so wanted his approval and to get on better than he did with Loop Fitz.  So while we waited for Fitzsimmons to return he was used a bit as a punching bag.  Mack, May, Daisy, and most of the agents barely tolerating him.   Being forced on missions he was uncomfortable with and not trailed for.  Getting yelled at when he couldn’t pull off what his grandparents could.  

Once Fitzsimmons were back I enjoyed the balance of comedy and heartfelt moments.  I really did like the chaotic vibe he had with Snowflake and his heart  His blow up in 12 was totally warranted and allowed him to have some serious hero moments, earn some respect from Mack, and still brought some comedic light to what were some seriously stressful points in the finale.

Now Season 7 is when I think Deke is really going to come into his own.   Those who have ready my theories and predictions throughout hiatus know I’ve been pretty firm on this all along.  I also had the recent revealation that Deke is a bit of a Dark Horse for the team.   As with all the scans the Chronicoms have, even Fitzsimons from Inescapable, they know next to nothing about him.  Jemma didn’t know his full talents before she left to get Fitz.  Meaning they won’t know what’s coming with them and if the team ever needs a Hunter level crazy Release the Ferrets kind of plan to throw them off.  Deke is their man!  It will also allow him to operate under the radar until he makes a few too many waves and lands in the Chronicoms sites.  

I think for Deke this little trip through history is going to be amazing for him and he’s going to want to get into the field as much as possible, see as much of the earth as he can like never before, and witness the history of Earth that he was never really able to learn.  And seriously writers if I don’t get at least one scene of Jemma fussing over him in one of his period looks i”m gonna be very sad.

Deke is going to have to be the one to fill Fitz’s shoes with Jemma in the lab with Bobo in hiding.  Here for the first time he’ll get to really work with one of them, see how they operate, and be able to learn from her just as she will from him.  Well see him have some pretty big breakthroughs during the Season. I also think that out of all the team Jemma is going to lean heavily on Deke for support as the separation for Fitz....and concern for his safely grows.  I still maintain if there is a Secret Child Deke will be the only one she tells and that child or no Deke will be the only one to back her up when she insists that Fitz is in serious danger and something needs to be done.  Add Nana and Deke running off to save Bobo to my wish list.  

I am still concerned about the whole Puppy Dog crush on Daisy thing.  I don’t really ship them at all and if the writers do take it there its going to take most if not all season for Daisy to start to come around to him.  So that will likely flare up from time to time.  

I also think he’ll still have to prove himself to others on the team like Mack, Elena, Daisy, Yoyo, and maybe Robo Coulson.  And at some point his lack of training in the field will bite him and I think he’ll get injured ore than a few times.

By the end of the Season Deke is going to be an integral part of the team and going into the final fight, especially if there is a tech element to it  I think he’ll play a part in saving Fitz and perhaps the world.  That does leave me on the fence if he makes it or not.  I fear if he is on as big of a hero arc as Mace was he’ll fall to the same fate and sacrifice himself, especially for his grandparents.  But I can also see him going on to take over for Fitzsimmons when they leave Shield.  Though my dream I know very well I’m not getting is he decides to stay with them wherever they land.  

Deke will also continue to add that comedic element that is very desperately needed as things get more serious.  Enoch and Robo Coulson will also help with this void and oh boy if we are lucky enough for Deke to meet Uncle Hunter at some point....yes another dream of mine.

Overall I am super excited where they take Deke this season as I feel its going to be his time to shine.  Sure like everyone he’ll slip here and there but overall he’s going to Dazzle.  He’s going to be really get close and bond with Jemma and be there to support her as the separation from Fitz goes on and gets more dangerous.  And I think that we will see him find himself, who he wants to be, and what it means to be a Fitzsimmons.