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saladejin · 4 years

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Lost & Found | Jimin (M)

Jimin x Fem!Reader | s2f2l au, (ex)-policeman!Jimin, vetnurse!Reader | fluff, meet-cute, (emphasis on) hurt/comfort, angst and heavy angst, found families, slight humour, mentions of other members

Summary: You’ve essentially spent your whole life working around dogs, through sickness and through health, but one memorable encounter at the park has you thinking ‘why not one more?’

Or, maybe it’s not the dog that needs help, but rather the beautiful yet reserved man with honey blonde hair at his side. Perhaps, rather than dogs and cats, you need to start learning how to heal people. Maybe then you can start to heal yourself too.

Warnings: tw // (mental health, descriptions of death - no major, descriptions of abandonment - not by main characters, absent parents) // Descriptions of traumatic experiences, mental health issues/struggles (depression, anxiety), minor character death, hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns / resolved breakdowns. Only the tiniest, vaguest references to suicide - basically nothing.

- semi non-descriptive smut, fooling around in the pool, kissing, touching, fucking ... plenty of cussing lol

Word Count: 18.6k (hahahha kill me)

A/N: Okay so here is my entry for the Ghostie Network’s ‘Dynamite Dads’ event, and it’s a bit late oops! I wasn’t really feeling up to write Jimin as a dad with an actual human baby, but I did the next best thing and gave him a gorgeous pupper who he basically treats as his own child ... enjoy :)

The genre was FLUFF, and my trope was ‘found family’. I promise you there is definitely some fluff to pay off for the angst. I feel ok saying it’s nothing too extreme, 🥺 but please heed the warnings and don’t hate me too much for the pain hehe

There will be a sequel, so this will most likely end up being a two-shot. You’ll see what I mean :)

<< masterlist

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Jimin knows from the very moment he opens his eyes to the sound of 6 a.m. birdsong, that today would be it. His last day.

He drags himself from bed, all fluffed up hair and puffy eyes, shrugging on the same dark navy uniform he’s worn for the past five years. He blinks away the sleep clutching at his eyelids, trying his best to prevent the flashing colours behind them from focusing into memories.

Perhaps they were a lingering dream, flooded with the distant sounds of wailing sirens and a snarling canine, but thankfully they vanish with one brisk shake of his head.

Snarling swiftly changes into a gentle whine, and Jimin raises his head with a troubled sigh to see Mandu sniffing by his bedroom door. His best friend, his companion, and most of all his boy. Jimin’s cheeks lift in a small smile, and the dog with a pelt of rich fawn brightens instantly, tail thumping the wall in innocent glee at seeing his handler’s eyes shine.

“Morning, bud.”

Not two hours later, Jimin’s sitting just outside the chief’s office. He waits with downcast eyes, fiddling with his fingers to ward away the nerves and anxiety causing his heartbeat to pick up speed.

He knows how it looks; he knows that everyone there can see through him and his firm expression. He’s never been good at hiding emotions very well, despite society’s expectation that anyone working in the law enforcement sphere should. No, not him, and that’s exactly why he has to leave it all behind.

“Officer Park…”

The chief’s eyes are not upset, angry or surprised by the news, but rather concerned. Jimin swallows his guilt down heavily, knowing full well that he has every right to do what he’s doing. He fights the urge to comb his fingers through his soft honey blonde hair, or the instinctual need to scratch at his own neck from the sheer distress of it all.

“Park, is it because of yesterday?”

That simple phrase was all it took to send him reeling back.

Flashing colours and background noise burst into focus, and Jimin suddenly finds himself reliving everything. Heavy well-worn boots thudding against the road slick with fresh rain, the sound of shrieking sirens all around, piercing his eardrums like knives. His lungs constricting, burning, with need for air as he follows Mandu into the darkness of the alley.

“Jung! Jung, where-”

Jimin can barely hear himself think above the clatter, the vicious snarling and gnashing of teeth against flesh being the only sound keeping him grounded. He has a job to do, and he’ll see it through to the end even if it costs him his life. He cocks his pistol and carefully peers around the corner of the dimly lit alleyway, hoping that the pathetic cries of the criminal under attack means that the coast is somewhat clear.

Anxiety bubbles up in his chest, for his partner and his boy, but he knows he can’t let his worry for them cloud his judgement now, of all times.

“Drop your weapon now!” he shouts above the noise, rounding the corner to apprehend the man currently locked into a bloody fight with his K-9 counterpart, desperately kicking and shoving to try and escape the ferociously snapping jaw knocking him down.

To Jimin’s relief, the weapon in question had been thrown down with a clatter amidst the man’s struggle, the gun still rotating slightly in its place from the force of its projection.

Then his bones freeze up when he watches the shiny object come to rest by a steel-capped boot, a boot so familiar to his eyes because it’s the exact same one he wears.

It’s Jung. Slumped against the wall, unmoving, unseeing … blood pools everywhere around him, and the iron-tinged smell hits Jimin right in the face until he can barely stand to breathe. “H-Hoseok, no…”

Mandu’s growls bring him crashing down to Earth, and Jimin’s pulled the trigger before he can even think twice about his actions. In the back of his mind, he knows he’s trained unconditionally to aim for non-fatal points on the human body, but right then and there, through the crimson haze of his fury, he wished he’d been able to do it.

Avenge him.

“Park…”

“Officer Park? Are you with me?”

Jimin gasps lightly, blinking his eyes to chase away the all-too-fresh memory from his mind yet again. His bottom lip is clamped so hard between his teeth, he wonders if the iron taste of blood in his mouth had actually been more than imagination. The superior officer sat at the desk in front of him nods solemnly.

“Park Jimin, I understand completely. I can’t stop you…”

The chief’s voice fades into the background as Jimin lets his thoughts wander once more, but he soon feels the darkness eating away at him again. The inner demons, the pain and suffering, because everyone leaves you, Jimin. The cycle repeats, you let yourself love then you let yourself lose.

“The … adoption of ‘Mandu’ as you’ve stated here, has already been finalised. We’re glad to see a long serving canine of our force retire to a responsible home. Thank you, Park.”

“Of course, Chief.”

The older man sighs and gives Jimin a once-over, clearly recognising that the man before him needs time to heal, however long that may be. Jimin feels it too, deep within his heart, his mind, and his very soul. This was it. He could finally hide. He could finally stop inflicting all this pain on himself and push it back to the deepest corners of his mind, where it would remain untouched.

“We thank you for your service, please hand in your badge and equipment by the end of the week.”

~ three months later ~

“That’s it for the day!”

Muscles aching and eyes watering from a yawn, you peel the stretchy gloves from your hands with a grimace. The sweaty feeling lingers on your skin long after throwing the disgusting things in the trash. It’s only after you shed your nurse scrubs and lanyard that you remember you aren’t quite ready to finish up.

“(Y/n), you just have to take Jessie out for a bit before you go,” your colleague calls, much to your chagrin at the reminder. It’s been a long day at the veterinary clinic, and even if vet nursing wasn’t quite as strenuous of a job as legitimate veterinarian work, it still sapped a decent amount of energy.

God, you just want nothing more than to go home to your warm bed, and your fluffball cat. Instead, you pack away your uniform and grab a leash to prepare for the walk.

“C’mon girl,” you coo gently to the old border collie resting in her cage. There was an immense pride in the way the clinic took care of its sick and injured animals, and that included exercising the dogs every single day without fail. You absolutely loved it, loved your job and everything it entailed.

Ten minutes later, you’re letting the gate to the local park click shut behind you.

The dog park is remarkably busy today, you muse after letting Jessie off her leash for a run. Inside the spacious area – fenced off nicely with grasses delightfully green from the Spring air – are dogs and puppies of various shapes, sizes and colours bounding around each-other like ping pong balls.

You can’t suppress a snort of amusement as a particularly handsome pooch catches your eye, something akin to a German Shepherd though not quite as large. Your eyes follow the energetic bundle of energy as he darts around the group of dogs, chasing them and nipping at their heels to keep them controlled, just how he likes it.

It was inevitable that Jessie would soon join in, and you can only let out knowing sigh at the sight of the beautiful collie’s eyes lighting up with that familiar fire; a flame that had remained dormant for many, many years within her ageing mind. She takes off and rounds up the strays of the flock, arthritis in her joints long forgotten as her instincts to chase and collect take over entirely.

“Mandu, why…”

A breathy sigh escapes the person standing barely a metre away from where you sit on the park bench, and you finally take a moment to observe the other dog owners milling around this sector of the park. Their eyes are wide in confusion as they witness the spectacle happening before them, but you’re brought back to the man closest to you as he lets out another disappointed click of his tongue.

“It’s normal with herding breeds,” you find yourself saying through a fond smile, though your socially awkward inner self wants to kick you in the ass for it. The man, who looks as though he’d been about to jump in to collect his zippy companion, falters in his motion to regard you in surprise.

“Yeah, uh, it’s just been a while since my boy’s done it.” He rubs at his neck self-consciously, eyes glancing around to see if anyone’s thrown him a dirty or judgemental look already. From your place on the wooden seat, you can easily catch the way the sunlight caresses the man’s unique features, the worn-out sneakers and running wear telling you that he comes this way often to exercise.

He clears his throat. “You…”

As he trails off, somehow losing confidence halfway through his sentence, you feel that familiar pang of embarrassment that comes with talking to strangers. “Mine’s the collie, so I know I should probably step in too.” You laugh quietly, instantly breaking eye-contact when he holds your stare for a second too long.

He was stunning, to say the least, with incredibly soft looking caramel hair swept back from his face, and pillowy looking lips that were large, but fitting when placed together with his smooth sloping cheekbones and an elegant jawline. His eyes, though, were tired. They were so tired, and you knew exactly what it felt like to leave home every day when you were … that emotionally exhausted.

At your comment, the man breaks into a grin, because well … you’re in the same boat here. He’s probably relieved that you hadn’t lectured him on dog behaviour or keeping his pet in check, or something like that. Nope, turns out you were just as liberal as he was.

You get to your feet, trying to inwardly shake the tingling in your chest from the sight of his lips curling into a smile alone, and jostle the leash in your hand to try and get your playful lady’s attention.

When that didn’t work, you let out a loud whistle and hope that the slight burning sensation travelling up the back of your neck would fade away soon. Although, you knew that as long as the curious man kept his eyes trained on you, it would persist. “Jessie, here girl.”

The beautiful stranger follows suit, but to your shock he barely has to make any noise, just a simple gesture and briskly spoken word before his responsive dog is sitting to attention at his feet. Ears pricked and warm canine eyes focusing on his owner as if nothing else in the world would ever matter as much as he did in that moment. You quickly look up to catch a glimpse of the man’s face once more, and the love now swimming in his gaze as he ruffles the dog’s pointy ears was nothing short of breathtaking.

You should go now.

You utter a tiny ‘bye’ as you take your leave, not even sure that the captivating man is able to hear you over the way he’s currently trying to scold his tawny-furred dog in a soft, gentle tone. A stern voice that still made it obvious just how endeared he was behind the annoyed façade.

You glance down to where Jess pads quietly on the pavement beside you, her black and white wavy pelt somewhat tousled from the exertion and her tongue lolling out in pure elation after stretching her legs. Sunlight, a blinding smile, caramel blonde hair…

How were you supposed to think of anything else now?

Three days pass, and you’re back in the clinic. Work is piling up, and you’re basically booked out thanks to a spontaneous outbreak of ‘Kennel Cough’ throughout nearby shelters. How the infectious disease spread to not one, but two localised areas, nobody knew.

“Someone must have taken their dog to all of them, or maybe had it transferred mid-vacation,” you growl to Dr. Kim, lining the antibiotics up on the med table after checking the clipboard thoroughly. Healthy vaccinated dogs would be fine, perhaps a tad sickly for a week or two, but puppies and those with immune deficiencies? Out of luck unfortunately.

“I’ve scheduled the radiographs for the most affected,” Dr. Kim informs, and you’re in a right mind to believe he’s only trying to reassure you right now. He sighs and flashes you a weary smile, age-lines prominent around his kind features thanks to the recent months of stress. “Hopefully we can rule out any pneumonia. You’re free to go on break by the way, Nurse (L/n).”

At the word ‘break’, you feel dread crash through your body like a heavy wave. Shit, had you forgotten to bring lunch today? A wishful image floats through your head of the delicately tossed Greek salad you’d prepared the night before, only problem being that it was still wrapped neatly in the fridge at home.

“Damn it,” you mutter, planting a forced smile on your face when the older doctor eyes you worriedly at the soft outburst. “Sorry, I’ll need to head out today.”

You can’t stop internally punching yourself for being forgetful, knowing that it’ll cost you precious time to walk to the nearest eateries and back. Perhaps if you owned a car, you’d be able to savour those few extra minutes of relaxing during your break.

Nope, it’s walking for you now. Idiot.

So off you go. The route is pleasantly quiet for the most part, with the sun slowly beginning to warm the leaves on trees as they protect their newly forming flower buds. There’s the incessant yet melodic chirping of birds while they scourge the nearby plants for food, either for themselves or their young. It was easy to stop and appreciate the various signs of revival and rebirth around you, but maybe not today.

Today, you had too much to worry about and too much weighing you down. There were so many helpless animal lives that were going to be lost, all because of one person and their ignorance. You had to come to terms with death fairly quickly when entering this line of work, but that didn’t make it any easier as time passed by.

Especially for someone like you.

You come to a sudden stop and blink your eyes firmly. The painted sign that blocks your path display the words ‘DOG PARK’ in all capitals, and it throws you off guard completely. You’d … somehow taken this heavy of a detour? Well, you suppose it could be worse, and the park did have another entrance on the far side you can use to somehow shortcut your way into town, but you can’t shake your confusion until ah.

There he is. The dog park guy, standing slightly off the well-trodden path. He’s dressed in a casual grey tee shirt and comfy matte black shorts this time, effortlessly showing off the defined muscles of his calves as he bends down to retrieve a bright green frisbee. He then flings it so high into the air, you doubt even his wonderfully enthusiastic dog will be able to catch up to it.

But when the well-built canine does in fact manage to clamp his teeth down on the airborne toy, you only manage to pick your jaw up off the floor after a handful of shellshocked moments. Some special kind of training had become evident in the way the animal springs off its hind legs with such intensity.

Right, you should stop staring like a maniac and keep walking.

At this rate, you’re going to be late back to work, and with the sheer number of things left to do and problems to solve with the shelters and kennels, you know that’s not an option. Hell, you’re so swallowed by your anxiety that you break out into a slow jog to make it at least halfway through the dog park in time.

Don’t look at him, don’t.

You glance at the man as you pass him, hoping to dear God that he’s focusing on his dog rather than the strange pet-less woman running through the park meant for pets, wearing dark forest-green scrubs underneath her jacket because she was too stupid to remember her food for the day. But alas, he is looking at you too.

It’s a weird kind of energy you can’t place, as if some kind of invisible force is trying to slow your feet down. The air thickens in resistance, and it’s like you’re barging through it to continue forward on your path. Everything in your body screams at you to stop, to talk to him, to say ‘hello’ with a smile because he deserves to have his own friendly one returned in some way. Oh wow, he’s actually looking at you, isn’t he?

The thing is, in situations like this you get nervous. You and attractive guys? Not quite the match made in heaven you’d probably expect. He flashes you that smile, all pearly whites to accompany the recognition from yesterday glittering in his startled gaze, but all you can manage is a strained grimace-like grin in return with a tiny wave of your sweaty palm.

Great. Fucking great.

At least you’re already gone before you can wallow in the humiliation; before you can simmer in it like a fine stew. He’s probably forgotten you already anyway, but you can’t help looking over your shoulder to check regardless.

Checkmate, he’s watching you go. The smile is now amused, and his head is cocked cutely to the side in playful confusion. As his dog jumps all over him to try and win back his attention, you flip the hoodie of your jacket up and try to ward off the embarrassed onslaught of laughter that bubbles in your chest. It would take more than a few days to wipe the image of his crescent moon shaped eyes from your memory this time around.

Jimin wakes to a wet and uncomfortable sensation prodding his face, and if he didn’t already have an innate sense for his favourite living being in the whole world, he’d be on his feet and ready to fight in no time at all.

“Mandu you gotta let me sleep,” he groans out, voice deep and groggy from his slumber. A persistent whine dragging from the throat of the animal rouses Jimin further, and he slides up to rest back on his elbows, eyes squeezing shut and skin covered in the slightest sheen of sweat from how hot it’d been under the bedcovers.

His dry lips part in a yawn. “Fine, you hungry?”

Mandu pokes his snout into Jimin’s cheek once more, big gentle brown eyes urging him to get up and start his day. Jimin knows that without his best friend with him, he’d barely have any motivation to step foot outside his room, let alone head out for a run each day consecutively.

It helps that his buddy looks out for him as diligently and as loyally as he had back when they were in the force together. It’s like nothing ever changed, and in the back of Jimin’s mind, he knows that the sense of routine had most likely saved his life time and time again.

“Alright,” he grunts loudly, lips curving into a smirk as he cups Mandu’s furry face into his palms, squishing the doggy cheeks he finds there together until the dog squirms in his spot on the bed. It’s not until Mandu lets out a frustrated yet playful growl that Jimin leaves him be with one last ruffle of his dark pointed ears.

Yeah, he really was fucked without his boy reminding him to eat, walk and sleep every day. Jimin knew it was pathetic, and he’d never felt so useless in his whole life, but it was enough to get him through for now.

Jimin scratches at his bare chest, freezing on his amble towards the kitchen when he spots something. Mandu stops along with him, his nails click on the floorboards in impatience but Jimin’s eyes are intensely locked onto the photo frame perched on the living room cabinet.

Idiot, of course there was one left.

He slams the frame down, making sure he can’t see the two laughing faces for a second longer than needed. He realises with a frown that he probably forgot to remove it due to barely ever setting foot in the living room as it was. Up until now, for the last five years, he’d spent most of his time at the station or out on the field. Patrolling, tracking … even apprehending, but that simply meant areas of his home went essentially unused for months on end.

Things were changing…

“Hey bud, what’s for breakfast?” he hums to his pal softly, finding a small happiness in the way Mandu circles around his legs like a bothered child. He assumes that if the dog were human, he’d be sporting the mightiest of pouts right about now.

Ten minutes later, Jimin finds himself nose deep in a bowl of flavourless cereal. On any other ordinary day, he and Mandu would usually race to see who could finish their meal the speediest, but he’s not feeling it this time around. The fawn coloured dog seems to give him a judgemental stare, as if saying ‘what’s wrong with you, did you let me win!?’ to which Jimin looks down at him and lets a breathy laugh fall from his lips.

“Not everything’s a competition boy, grow up already.”

Mandu simply huffs and moves to lay down, resting his muzzle on his front paws in defeat.

“How dare you roll your eyes at me.”

A dismissive sniff in response. Jimin finishes his meal with a shake of his head, knowing that if anyone were to ever hear the way he spoke to his pet dog, he’d most likely get shipped off to the nearest mental institution available. The sudden dark thought earns a surprised raise of his brows, but as he rinses his bowl off in the sink, he knows he has nothing to worry about.

It’s only him and Mandu now, and nobody else mattered. Nobody else was allowed to matter.

Yet Jimin’s always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Even if he tries the hardest he can to shut the world out, he’s continuously drawn to people. Drawn to seek company and validation, drawn to love others with his whole heart unconditionally. He could have it all, but all the world does is take from him.

He sighs and sits back at the kitchen countertop, head resting on his folded arms much like the sassy child sprawled underneath the stool right now. “Do you think we’ll see the pretty lady from the park again today?”

The dog’s ear twitches, then flicks as if bothered by an irritating bug of some description. Jimin doesn’t know how to take that, really. Was it a no? Did Mandu even want to see her as much as he did? He supposes not, considering the ex-police dog was trained to be protective, and was instinctively so in every possible way.

He belongs to Jimin, and apparently that means Jimin belongs to him too, no friends allowed. Something in the back of his mind shouts that he shouldn’t be wanting friends anyway, that they were something to be afraid of.

“Whatever.”

It was the next day when things turned sour. To Jimin’s slight disappointment, they hadn’t seen the pretty lady in strange green attire again, but something did go horribly wrong instead.

Jimin exits the bathroom with a snowy white towel draped over his head, hoping that somehow his laziness will be overlooked for once and the towel will simply dry his hair for him with no additional effort, only for the fabric to fall from his head once he catches sight of Mandu walking down the hallway. Only he’s not walking, but rather limping.

“Buddy c’mere,” Jimin calls, voice pitching higher than usual in concern. With fear and cold hard dread settling deep into the pit of his stomach, Jimin observes the dog instantly perking up at the sound of his voice.

Mandu lets out a small yelp of excitement, but still has a stiffness and slight limp to his gait when he makes his way over. Jimin crouches down and pets the canine fondly, the sinking of his heart telling him that his suspicions were right all along.

Something is wrong here. He has to know what’s up, has to make sure his boy’s alright.

Jimin’s bundled the both of them into the car before he can stop to even think straight, and Mandu is nothing but a ball of excitement – bouncing around and goofily grinning the entire time. It hurts to think he’s fooling the dog into believing they’re going on some sort of spontaneous adventure, but that wouldn’t be entirely wrong. It’s only around noon so the local vet clinic has to be open, right?

He’s not dying, you really need to chill out.

Jimin knows his inner voice speaks the truth, but he continues to justify his frantic driving with a carefully crafted self-assurance. He’s only making sure, he’s simply worried for his baby.

He doesn’t stop to think about the way his hair is still unpleasantly damp from the shower, having forgotten to actually dry it beforehand, or the way his socks had somehow ended up being odd colours. He hastily finds a park outside the clinic and attaches his leash to Mandu’s collar.

What Jimin doesn’t expect to see, when striding through the administration doors with the dog in his arms, is you.

Your expression matches his own look of astonishment, your beautiful eyes widening in recognition in the exact same split-second his do. If Jimin was being honest with himself, he could probably just stand there looking at you for the next thirty minutes or so, but a miniscule wriggle from the animal in his hold brings him crashing back down to Earth.

“Um, hi,” he begins awkwardly, paces enormous as he lurches towards the desk you’re bracing your hands upon, still recovering from the shock of seeing him again it seemed. “I have a problem…”

You clear your throat and try not to smile at the amusing sight before you. Jimin knows it can’t be the strangest thing you’ve ever seen here, but the openly scared and confused dog clutched to his chest is enough to make you bite your lip in an effort to restrain yourself.

“I can see that. Luckily, we’ve got nobody in queue so you can jump right out back with me,” you say with a kind lilt to your tone that Jimin can tell is part of the customer service sector of your job description. He doesn’t really mind, nor does he even care. Right now, his only concern is Mandu.

No pretty lady in green scrubs is going to distract him from his best bud right now.

Fifteen minutes pass, and Jimin is worrying the skin of his bottom lip with his teeth. His wide troubled eyes trail over every movement you make as you examine the incredibly stiff and uncomfortable dog on the sterilised table. When Jimin meets Mandu’s startled gaze, he tries his best to calm his best friend down in a familiar gentle tone he would use at home.

“It’s okay buddy, you’ll be alright. Good boy…”

If you’re irritated or weirded out by his vocalisations, you don’t show it. Your mind seems to be too wrapped up in gently working your fingertips into the back haunches of the dog, massaging in slow circles. Jimin’s drawn in by the way you handle Mandu with such care and precision, and he begins thinking that if you were to do that to him, he’d probably be relaxing in no time.

Weird thoughts, but whatever, I guess.

The same can’t be said for the dog, though, and Jimin can only pick up the intensity of his soothing praises once he catches sight of Mandu trembling in fear on the table. The dog’s elbows seem to want to buckle under the stress of the situation, and it breaks Jimin’s heart to pieces to see his pal all worked up like this. It’s lucky that the animal has been trained well enough to trust in his handler’s presence alone, otherwise this whole examination might’ve taken a … darker and more vicious turn.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” he asks you quickly, voice high and strained as he reaches forward to scratch behind one of the dog’s ears in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Mandu licks his palm in return, and usually Jimin would recoil and protest loudly, but today he was fairly sure he’d let his boy get away with anything.

You sigh softly, and Jimin doesn’t know what that means at first, but then you peel the gloves from your hands and flash him a small smile. Everything starts to feel okay somehow. “You see, Sir, this is quite commonly seen in specific breeds of dog, including your German-”

“Belgian Malinois.” The correction is out before he can hold it back, and Jimin wants to slap himself for how snappy and rude it sounds, but you don’t take offense in the slightest. Instead, he’s stunned once more when you click your fingers with a light gasp of realisation.

“That’s what it is! I was trying to remember the name of this breed for days on end, after the first time I saw him in the park.”

Jimin raises his brows at that, feeling the last of his anxiety melt from his bones at the sight of your smile, which was slowly beginning to familiarise itself to him.

“Ah, well you could’ve asked me. I would’ve told you in a heartbeat.” He chuckles, though it’s somewhat dry from the raw emotions still running their course through his brain. When you let out a soft laugh in return, he forces himself to tear his eyes away.

“Oh well, anyway you can calm down a bit, there’s nothing life threatening going on here just yet,” you assure in a calming tone, and Jimin can easily sense how there’s more sincerity behind the sound compared to the voice you’d used earlier when greeting him.

“There are two things I can narrow down for you, taking into consideration the information you’ve given me so far. Commonly found in these breeds is something called hip dysplasia, where the hip joint undergoes abnormal development or growth. The other possibility for his lameness is a form of chronic arthritis called osteoarthritis, which deteriorates joint cartilage more commonly in older dogs like Mandu here.”

“He’s not that old though?” Jimin hums, brows furrowing in bewilderment at the news. He pats the dog’s head fondly, saddened but glad that he can breathe a little easier now that he knows what’s going on.

“Perhaps, but he’s lived a very active lifestyle, you see. Heavy strain and activity on the dog’s body can bring this forth quicker, much the same as it does in humans,” you explain with a sad sigh.

“I do recommend getting x-rays done to check out the full extent of the damage, as well as to check for any other abnormalities.”

You then take your leave to fetch the main doctor, and Jimin finds himself startled to discover you’re only a veterinary nurse here. By the way you were reeling off information from the top of your head, as well as the confident manner in which you examined and diagnosed his dog, he would’ve effortlessly assumed you ran the goddamn joint.

He waits in the administration area while Mandu’s getting his x-rays done, fingers fiddling with themselves from the trepidation building up inside him. He doesn’t even hear you enter the room, and can’t help his back going ramrod straight attentively when you clear your throat. Curse his years of training in the force.

“Hey, I can just see that you’re a little stressed out there. He must mean a lot to you.” You walk around the corner of the front desk and take your place one seat away from him. Jimin realises that you most likely keep your distance from most customers with an unmistakeable barrier of professionalism, but for him you seem to be stepping right out of your comfort zone.

He can tell by the unnecessarily chipper tone of your voice, and how your eyes flicker nervously to the side every once in a while. You’re good at hiding how anxious you are, he’ll give you that, but not good enough to escape watchful eyes such as his. Not when he goes through the exact same thing.

He finally musters the courage to respond after a few seconds of simply eyeing you in curiosity. “Yep.” He smiles tightly and returns his gaze to his interlocked fingers, knowing the expression wouldn’t reach his eyes. “He’s been with me through thick and thin. Almost like a little brother or son to me, as weird as that probably sounds.”

“I wouldn’t say weird,” you instantly oppose, laughing to brighten the sullen mood Jimin knows he’s bestowed upon you. “I think it’s sweet, and he’s a very lucky dog to have someone caring about him so much.”

Your sentiment melts the icy sadness around Jimin’s heart ever so slightly. The cold blanket encompassing him ever since his last loved one left his side. He hasn’t felt the urge to open up since, but he knows he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. “I- thanks, I guess.”

Before he can continue on and ruin the somehow light-hearted atmosphere by telling you he wants to be alone, you’re suddenly speaking again in that gentle voice of yours. “It’s kinda funny how we keep running into each-other, don’t you think? I can’t help but hope you’ll both be at the park whenever I pass by…”

Jimin’s at a loss for words at your candour, looking up sharply to see the way you’re shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and avoiding his eyes like the plague. It looks as though you regret the words as soon as they’re out in the open air.

But … he feels the same.

He can’t say it. He won’t. He can’t just let you in and create a space for yourself in his life, or heart right now. He cannot admit that you’ve lived in his mind for free ever since he saw you that second time, running past him with that smile on your face, confusing him with your antics to no end. Why do you keep getting under his skin in the best possible way?

“I mean, i-if you’d like to go out for coffee or something later on, I-”

He dips his head with a small sniff to attempt to cut you off in a somewhat polite manner. “Ah sorry, I’ve got a … funeral at two. Not really in the mood these days, but I appreciate it. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t wish to see your reaction to his less than eloquent rejection, but he catches it regardless. That wrenching moment you come to the conclusion that you read the signs all wrong. The glimmer of hope and interest in your eyes slowly flickering out like dying embers, although not completely, and he has no doubt it ever would.

You frown and instantly come through with a quiet “I’m sorry for your loss,”, but Jimin dismisses the sympathy with a tiny wave of his hand, claiming that it was a colleague and acquaintance rather than a close friend or family member.

It’s already obvious to him how much of an optimist you are. You’re holding onto that tiny shred of hope as if it were the string of a helium balloon, one moment of slack and he’d be floating away from you far out of reach.

“Right, sorry if I overstepped.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’re way too considerate and understanding of him, and the painful burn that leaves on his conscious is so real. It reminds him of all the times his brother would tell him to never take people’s kindness for granted, but here he was shooting you down even though you’d never given him a reason to.

In fact, he likes you enough to go back almost instantly on his words.

“I really am busy, otherwise … I would actually love to, believe me.” He combs a hand through his hair in exasperation, inwardly cringing at the damp dewy sensation greeting his palm as he’s reminded again of his post-shower dilemma. You’re already chuckling at your newfound victory, and he’s pleasantly surprised at the sudden streak of mischief in your eyes.

“Let’s make it a date for Saturday then, see you at the park usual time? I’ll make sure to come out earlier so I don’t miss you again.”

Damn you’re assertive, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t liking it. Something in the way you so effortlessly drew him out of his shell was electrifying. Was he even in total control of his own emotions right now?

He’s left in a stunned silence, nodding in response to your question before you’re suddenly making your exit, uttering something along the lines of ‘best wishes for the funeral’ and ‘good luck with Mandu’, but he can barely hear beyond the rushing of blood past his ears. He’s a flustered mess of a man right now.

He only regains majority of his focus once he’s left the clinic with some anti-inflammatory and pain meds for his dog, a slight dent in his bank account, and a date.

Holy fuck. You really did that. You did.

When it came down to it, you just saw your shot and took it. Simple as that, really. When the attractive guy from the dog park had shown up at the clinic, piercing deep brown eyes full of purpose, you’d very nearly felt your brain short-circuit at the sight. However, as time went on you began to get a glimpse of his true self.

It took every ounce of strength within you not to openly coo at the way he soothed his canine friend, with gentle words of encouragement spilling from his plush lips like a steady stream of water. If you’d been blind, you might have even been led to assume he was speaking to a fellow human.

Jimin, he’d revealed as his name. He was so lost in his worry for Mandu you didn’t think he’d even retained memory of your own name when you’d given it, but in the end it didn’t matter. You now had a literal date planned where you could talk and get to know him even more! How you’d managed to force the bold question out, you’ll never know, but hey at least one of your spontaneous and stupid decisions had to go well once in a while, right?

You sink into your couch, a fluffy white cat curled up on your lap as you relive the memories from the day. The relaxing sounds of purring surround you as you massage your fingers into your cat’s thick neck fur.

“Oh Ghostie, what the heck am I gonna do?”

Right now you can only think back to the way his hair was a bit of a jumbled mess, evidently damp and sticking out in all directions cutely. The addicting scent of his body-wash, if the rushed situation and flushed complexion was anything to go by, and aftershave. The man had those butterflies swooping around in your stomach already, and you barely knew him.

Your cat growls in protest when you let out a tiny squeal and make a harsh grab for a couch cushion, effectively burying your face deep into it in pure unadulterated embarrassment and disbelief. After living life being perfectly happy and single, why was this one somewhat decent-looking man sweeping you off your feet?

And sweep you off your feet he would, because when you finally show up to meet him at the dog park on Saturday, you’re being harshly barked at and sent flying to the ground before you can even process what’s happened. The dull ache from the force of impact fades quickly, and you try to regain your bearings before anything worse can happen.

“Fuck, sorry!”

The sight of your freshly washed jeans, now sporting a lovely scuff, causes you to cringe slightly. You shake your head and lock eyes with the pointy-eared dog standing over your body. It strikes you as bizarre, seeing as Mandu’s not exactly attacking you, but he’s not all that happy to see you either. You’re locked into a stand-off, despite you currently being knocked onto your ass with your heart still racing.

“Get off her!” comes Jimin’s outraged yell, his eyes are wide in sheer disbelief and disappointment. You can’t help but laugh softly at his exasperation, the shock of the fall now trickling away at the sight of the familiar face, or rather faces.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), I honestly don’t know what came over him. We were waiting by the pond and he just … took off when you came around!”

You stand and brush your clothes off, feeling your cheeks burn at the fact that he had actually remembered your name from the clinic the other day. You try to tell him it’s fine, but he still scolds the now sheepish looking dog at his feet – albeit as gently as possible through his vexation.

“I couldn’t leave him at home,” Jimin starts, sighing and clipping a leash to the dog’s collar pointedly. “Told him to behave himself but yeah, that didn’t go down well.” He regards you with concerned eyes, and you feel your heart melt at how he tries to subtly check you over for any injuries.

“I’m fine, Jimin, trust me. Working at the clinic means I’ve had my fair share of body-slams. Don’t sweat it.” You wave your hands before squatting, lowering yourself to be face-to-face with Mandu who still seemed to be eyeing you warily.

You understood it. Here you were, nothing more than a stranger, trying to take his owner and favourite person in the world away from him. You had to somehow convince Mandu that you weren’t a threat to their little family of two.

“Hey, buddy. Remember me?” You slowly reach out a hand to pat the top of the dog’s furry head, eager to earn his trust. “I’m not gonna hurt either of you, promise.”

You miss the way something flickers in Jimin’s eyes after hearing you say that. A glazed look of predictability, of cold hard doubt … but it’s gone when you rise to your feet once more. The dog seems to have accepted you for now, averting his eyes from the direct and intimidating glare he’d had trained on you ever since he’d pinned you down.

“Shall we, then?” You find yourself saying, self-confidence shocking you both as you smile and lead the way out of the park and towards the middle of town.

It doesn’t take long to find a nice café to sit at, and it’s with reluctance that Jimin leaves Mandu tied up outside. However, he knows he has to tone down his attachment in view of the public eye, and you especially. He doesn’t know just how far you’re willing to go for him.

He was a closed iron door to the world, yet he was still somewhat intrigued to see your efforts in getting inside. There was no way he was going let it happen, not again, but … why was he here then?

After ordering the coffees, him taking his black after years of late nights on patrol and you filling yours with sugar, you both surprisingly hit it off well. You suppose that after noticing how heavily you could relate to him, and vice versa, it was easy to understand one another and fall into steady conversation.

“The police force, huh.” You sip at your drink with a drawn-out hum of confirmation. “I actually kinda guessed that.”

Jimin blinks in shock. “You did?”

“Yeah! I mean I’ve seen Mandu a handful of times now, and it’s in the way he’s thoroughly trained to listen to your every command, not to mention the way he moves. When I gave him the check-up at the clinic, I forgot to mention that I just assumed your occupation when I said ‘active lifestyle’ back then.”

There is no way you’re going to tell him that you’d also made that assumption based on the man’s incredible build and well-toned muscles as well. Best to keep your thoughts on the dog, and luckily for you Jimin turns his head to check on his companion resting outside by a bowl of water, allowing your eyes to roam freely for a decent second or so.

“Well, you’re more observant than I thought,” Jimin notes through a breathy laugh, fingers lightly tapping at his coffee mug in thoughtful contemplation. You can’t help getting lost in the sight of him yet again.

He’s an absolute vision right now even if he’s dressed casually, only foregoing the shorts and joggers for simple black jeans and flatform sandals. His hair looks as soft as ever, and though his eyes are still open windows that show he’s hurting inside, you can’t help finding the immense beauty behind the pain.

There’s a short, comfortable silence as you both nurse your mugs of caffeine, but you break it in fear of letting an awkward air settle in. Damn, you do love being a little socially inept sometimes.

“Why the name Mandu?” You think it’s an innocent question, but unbeknownst to you, Jimin’s thoughts spiral at the reminder. The memories and origins of his boy’s name that uncomfortably sting at his heart like nettles.

“Ah, it was my brother who named him … actually,” he reveals, wondering if the slight crack of his voice is noticeable as he smiles convincingly. If you see through him, you don’t show it. Instead, you register the hint ever so slightly and aim to avoid prying.

“You would’ve only had him for a few years, right?”

“I served for five, so yeah he’s only been mine for a few years, but I did meet him before that while we were both in training.” Jimin laughs at what seems to be a fond memory, pushing the other ones to the back of his mind for now. “I was a little obnoxious about it back then, because I had to be with him. I demanded it to the chief and everything, if I wasn’t getting Mandu then I would drop my application because we’d bonded so well.”

You giggle, and cough lightly to hide your embarrassment instantly afterwards. “I love that, it’s quite obvious to me that you two are meant for each other.”

“What about you? Got any pets?” he asks, eyes alight with a newfound interest. Catching the way he leans forward in his seat ever so slightly; you feel a familiar warmth bloom in your chest. Jimin was finally relaxing around you.

“Yeah, a cat.” You cover your mouth with one hand to suppress your amusement, waiting for Jimin to scoff at you or screw his face up in disgust, but he doesn’t. Rather, he looks upwards in thought and then shakes his head while chuckling meaningfully. “Mandu would hate you for saying that.”

“Not a fan?”

“Absolutely not. I’m impartial though.” He watches you over the rim of his mug when he lifts it, an amused glimmer in his eye.

“Good to know. Good to know.” Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t wipe the grin from your face, absent-mindedly stirring your coffee with your spoon. It wouldn’t be long before the drinks were finished, but you didn’t want this moment in time to end.

The two of you chat for another half hour or so, but you can’t help noticing the distant look that surfaces in Jimin’s gaze whenever he brings up old memories of his family or brother. Your curiosity burns at this point, and you feel yourself wanting to get to know him so much more. He’s such an enigma to you. Watching the way he tries to let go and be himself, unapologetically, but holding back just as you catch an addictive glimpse of what that might be.

As you exchange more stories and memories, you can’t help but feel yourself digging a little deeper to uncover what’s tearing him down so hard. “You keep mentioning your brother, I’m guessing you guys are close?”

And ah, now you’ve done it. It hurts to see the guarded expression slam back down on Jimin’s features, but you knew it had to be done. You didn’t know if it were just you who could see it, but by repressing all his memories and feelings, Jimin was doing more harm than good to himself. Some internal part of you wanted to help him, because you knew exactly what it was like.

Though you weren’t expecting every dam to break just yet.

It takes a moment for Jimin to deliberate on his next words, but you wait out every second with him, patient and understanding. He notices this and decides that it’s alright for him to indulge just this once, to let someone in for just a single moment. “Not really, well … used to be. He, uh, he left town a while ago.”

Left?

You keep your tone quiet, not wanting to scare him away because he did seem like the type to take off at any given moment. “Sorry to hear that,” you murmur.

“It’s alright,” he says, wondering just how much he should give away. It’s the first time he’s met up and gone out with someone he’d consider a ‘friend’ of sorts in ages, so he’s not sure how much he should be disclosing right now, but something about you makes him want to let it all go. It scares him like nothing else.

“Honestly it hasn’t been … a great time for me since he left. Y’know, he was the only one that ever stayed, and things were tough being in the force and everything,” he offers through a dry laugh.

You want to reach out for his hand on the café table so badly, but it’s too soon to be that close. He’s testing the waters right now, showing you a vulnerable side that you can easily tell he doesn’t let out very often. It warms your heart, and all these broken feelings he’s showing you make everything feel so real. You can’t help but want to give yourself back to him.

“I can’t imagine it would’ve been easy. I know how it feels, actually.” You mentally prepare yourself to revisit a time you usually laid to rest, keeping the gentle smile on your face because even though these subjects were touchy and very meaningful to the two of you, you’d actually come to terms with yours years and years ago. Learned how to turn that pain and suffering into progress, self-growth.

“You do?” You can tell the sheer hope and relief in his tone doesn’t quite match the caution in his eyes, as if he doesn’t want to think that someone as bright and bubbly as you can ever have as many problems as he does, but you shut that train of thought down for him.

“Yeah, I … don’t have any family left either.”

He wants to know how, why, but he pulls himself back from the question almost instantly. Still, you can see it all on his features. He’s an open book for you to read.

“It’s okay Jimin, I came to terms with it a while back. I’m an only child, but my parents died when I was a teen.”

It hits him like a freight train then. The realisation that yes, of course there are other people in the world who have lost just like he has. The sad but forgiving look in your eyes just about breaks him. He’s been so self-centred the whole time, not even thinking that maybe you’re sitting across from him going through a life just as lonely as his own.

“I don’t know what to say.” To your shock, it’s him that reaches across the table to grasp your hand gently, and you hadn’t even realised it was shaking slightly until he’d steadied it with his own. There were no hidden intentions in his gaze, just a pained understanding. You’d both needed to simply tell someone.

“I promise I’m fine now. It was years ago. I don’t even know why I’m…”

You trail off with a shaky laugh, tightening your grip on his hand slightly in fear that he would let go of you. You were essentially strangers, but you’d both needed this. You needed someone to listen as you talked, to have that visceral sense for the pain rather than simply try sympathising with it. It was different when you knew the feeling.

After the sudden serious note of the conversation had passed, both you and Jimin felt a little weight taken off your shoulders. You’d both torn some walls down today, and that in itself was enough to garner bucketloads of respect and admiration on both accounts.

You part ways back at the park, a new kind of friendship blossoming that, if you were being honest, neither of you had seen coming.

A couple of months pass after that, and in between his regular walks and visits to the clinic, Jimin finds himself spending more and more time in your presence. He even jokes around with Mandu that he should walk just a tad more lamely so he can stay a little longer between check-ups. But at the end of the day he knows he truly wants his boy to get better.

The first time he steps foot inside your house, he’s instantly halted in his tracks by the fluffiest white cat he’s ever seen. After hearing you mention, ‘she hates strangers’, and ‘she’ll probably cuss you out straight away’, it comes as a surprise to both of you when Ghost wraps herself around Jimin’s leg and purrs needily. A louder purr than you’ve ever received in your whole ten years of being her owner.

“Stop whoring yourself out! He’s just here to pick up some worming tablets,” you tut in disapproval, earning a hearty laugh from Jimin at the snappy tone. Ghost narrows her green eyes at you and rubs her chin along Jimin’s pant leg one more time for good measure, proceeding to saunter into the kitchen utterly oozing with sass.

After a few more random visits, you stop beating around the bush and begin inviting Jimin over to either chill out or have dinner. Obviously, more often than not it turned out to be both.

You’d order something in and then joke about how unhealthy you were for being too lazy to cook. Jimin even gets so exasperated sometimes that he carts food over from his own home to cook up in your kitchen, funnily enough. It wasn’t your fault you never really had the time to teach yourself during your unrelenting years of university and work, and it wasn’t as if you had a parent around to help you learn as a child.

Jesus, way to be depressing.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Jimin to find random spots of humour within your combined trauma and abandonment issues either, as unhealthy as that sounds.

You always figured that life was too short to be sad all the time anyway, and even though that ideology alarmed your newfound friend at first, he soon slowly began to see the appeal. He was kind of over being sad, honestly.

He remembers standing by the coffin at Hoseok’s funeral, the very same fateful day he’d encountered you at the clinic for the first time. He’d felt overwhelmed at the emotions threatening to pull him apart at the seams, but at the same time, he’d felt cold at the lack thereof.

That was the result of letting himself get close to someone again, even through work of all places. His partner with the sunny disposition and heart-shaped smile? Gone from this world in a single click of a finger. It was too easy, too much of a risk to get closer. Jimin remembers not even being able to bring himself to cry back then, but things are starting to change now that you’re in the picture.

He still has that lingering dread that you’ll leave him too, but try as he might to keep you at arm’s length, he simply can’t. You bring out the best in him, and you make him want to try harder, to try being better. In a sense, you’re like another Mandu to him. He can’t just ignore that.

He tells you about Hoseok one night, just because it comes up in conversation and he’s already rambling on before he can stop himself. He looks up at your crestfallen face, knowing your heart hurts for him even though he’s unable to muster the correct emotions, all thanks to the disconnection he’s forged from his dead colleague already.

He recalls severing himself from those feelings right as he died, and again when he stood by his body at the funeral, but then you went and somehow reconstructed that bridge without him knowing.

“You know it’s okay to miss people, Jim. To remember them for who they were, and what they meant to you. It’s okay to miss them because they’re gone.”

He cries in your arms until 1 a.m. that night.

After a while, he begins to let people see the true him, fed up with hiding and done with shutting the world out. He returns smiles directed his way in the street, he ventures out to do nothing but simply stop and smell the roses. It’s refreshing, and it’s as if he can barely remember what it feels like after years of being chained down by depression and self-loathing.

You did that, with your calming presence, your affirming words, your genuine care. He’ll never forget it.

And slowly but surely, Mandu begins to warm up to you as well.

“I swear he’s only squaring up just to show off or something,” Jimin snorts as he walks beside you on the concrete path, Mandu in tow on a leash now that you’re leaving the park.

“He’s asserting dominance.” You cast a glance behind you to see the dog glaring you down, just as usual.

‘Why the hell are you walking next to him when I’m supposed to be there? You’re just a lowly human who doesn’t deserve my dad’s time or attention. How dare you!’

You bite back a laugh when you imagine the thoughts running through Mandu’s head, and he sniffs and growls at the sight of you not taking him seriously. He’s a big bad wolf, fear him goddammit.

“I’m sure he’ll accept me into the pack one day,” you respond good-naturedly, earning an eye-roll from Jimin as he shoots a pointed look of warning towards his boy once more. He can’t help but feel tingles erupt across his skin hearing ‘the pack’ come from your mouth. You make it sound like an actual family, and for some reason he seems to crave exactly that. That’s what all of you are to Jimin, a little family.

“Sure, but good luck convincing him to accept Ghost. I’m sure he’ll be walking around with a ‘NO CATS ALLOWED’ sign hanging from his neck soon enough.”

The dog agrees.

The next day is when Mandu’s last check-up is scheduled, and you wait by the front desk nervously as Jimin discusses options with Dr. Kim in the next room over. It’s been several weeks since the dog’s initial diagnosis, and he’s had a slight improvement, but it isn’t enough.

You and Jimin have spoken about how worried he is regarding the dog’s rapid muscle loss, and your heart always constricts at the sight as well. There’s only so much medication you can give.

You already know that Jimin’s current status of unemployment means he probably doesn’t have the means to fund more than one surgery, that is if he wants to remain financially stable. You’d need another plan.

“Hydrotherapy?” Jimin squawks. He’s a picture of confusion right now, one eyebrow cocked and pretty lips parting in surprise. You can’t help laughing at his dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, Jiminie. Dr. Kim has asked me to explain it to you so we can work out when to schedule it. Basically, dogs with chronic arthritis need to be able to exercise their joints and muscles without the excess strain, so regular swimming sessions are perfect.”

“It’ll help him get stronger?”

“Exactly, and since he’s up to date on his vaccinations we can organise a session right away, if you’d like?”

Jimin can’t suppress a shit-eating grin at the formal tone you’re using with him. He’s so used to messing around with you and having general chatter that the sudden switch to your ‘customer’ voice, as he calls it, is now more amusing to him than ever. You grumble under your breath, knowing all too well that he’s making fun of you without actually saying it.

“Fine, when can we start then? I’ve only ever seen him swim once, and it didn’t go well for the bad guy,” Jimin acquiesces, lifting his brows once and smirking at you mischievously. You ignore him.

“That’s alright Sir, we can start this Thursday.” You smile in such a pretentious and artificial way that Jimin has to smother his offended gasp. Now you’re just being rude.

“Pretending not to know who I am? Damn, guess I’ll just throw that strawberry shortcake I bought in the bin when I get home…”

And he’s got you. Your eyes light up and your fingers curl into fists on the desktop. You swallow thickly at the thought of him eating one of your favourite desserts on his own, or even worse throw it out like the heathen he is, but you’re determined not to cave in.

“I’m sorry Sir, I don’t quite follow. Your unhealthy affairs have little importance to me.”

You’re putting up a fight this time around, and Jimin’s willing to play. He leans on the desk with his elbow, the suave and impish air he suddenly exudes makes you nervous on the other side of the marble structure. “In that case, can we make this quick? I gotta rush home and catch up on the last two episodes of ‘Anohana’.”

This time you can’t contain your sharp inhale. “You promised we’d watch that together.”

Jimin chuckles with glee, taking the easy victory with a cocky lick of his lips. You trail the movement with your eyes before glaring at him again. “I don’t even care, you’d better not.”

He enjoys riling you up way too much. “Or what?”

“I’ll literally bust down your door at 2 a.m. in the morning Park, don’t test me.”

He knows you’re only joking around, but hearing his last name uttered in such a grave manner shifts something within him. He’s suddenly transported back to the chief’s office, hands wringing together in unease. “Park, is this about yesterday?”

“Park! He ran over there, follow me quick!”

“Jung wait…”

He has to shake his head, the smattering of memories and thoughts filtering from his mind slower than he’d like. He needs to drown out the sound of the echoing gunshot with something else, something louder.

You’re watching him the entire time with an apologetic gaze, picking up the miniscule signs that tell you he’s had something from the past triggered and brought back up unwillingly. You don’t even know what it is that you said, but you stay quiet and allow him to regain his composure.

“You okay Jiminie?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just thought of something,” he hums, not bothering to try and pretend as if nothing happened. You both knew each other too well at this point, and you understood him enough to have learned it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Sometimes these things just happened.

“Thursday sounds great, (Y/n).”

“Of course, I’ll lock it in. How does catching those last few episodes tonight sound? We can ugly cry and eat ice-cream like the cliché we are,” you say with an enthusiastic clap of your hands, and Jimin smiles tenderly. You always have a sense for what he needs.

He inwardly thanks the heavens for your existence, because now he won’t be alone in the silence of his home, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. Even Mandu couldn’t help him sometimes.

“Lovely. It sounds lovely.”

You’ve changed him, and he wants to spend the rest of his life telling you just how thankful he is.

So when his phone rings one late night and he sees your name light up on the screen, he doesn’t hesitate to pick it up, even though his past self would have lethargically thrown it to the side while shrinking away from any kind of human interaction that wasn’t necessary.

“Hey,” he mumbles, eyes still squeezed shut from sleep.

Silence.

He’s startled into a more wakeful state by Mandu lifting his head suddenly from his lap, the attentive canine’s ears twitching as he bores holes into the phone in Jimin’s hand. Now worrying, Jimin says your name into the phone twice, eyes scanning the way his dog seems to be picking up whatever tiny sounds are coming from the speaker.

There’s a sniffle, and a tiny hiccup. “Jimin … I’m sorry. Can you come over right now?”

Anxiety flares up like some kind of wildfire within him, and Jimin’s rocketing from the bed before he can take the time to stop, breathe and think. Mandu follows, a bark of alarm leaving him as he dances around Jimin’s bare feet in excitement. He gets that the dog doesn’t know any better, but from the sound of your sobbing on the other side of the line, anyone could tell that something had gone terribly wrong.

He needs to be by your side now.

“Mandu stay,” he orders, not caring to use any proper commands due to the way his hands are shaking. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, just as it had way back when he’d rushed Mandu to the vet for a simple arthritis problem. Now, his next favourite being in the world was the source of his panic.

He’s thrown on whatever clothes he can find and tries to ignore Mandu’s flurry of whines and howls from inside the house once he’s settled in the car. You’re still on the phone, but he can barely get a word in when you’re crying and blubbering nonsense like you currently are. The most Jimin can do as he drives is what he would need in the stark moments of a mental breakdown, gentle words of encouragement and … a song.

He hates himself for it, but he remembers the lullaby his brother used to sing for him whenever he cried, and he hopes to dear God that he can calm you down with his voice just as Taehyung had when they were younger. The soothing notes fall from his lips, and the memories they bring hurt so much that he can feel himself choking up, but he tells himself that you matter more.

He pulls up to your house ten minutes later, your crying thankfully reduced to a collection of whimpers and sniffles. He doesn’t dare hang up, but barges through the front door without a single second of hesitation. He briefly glimpses the flash of a white fluffy tail disappearing down the hallway, the cat obviously scared out of its mind from the recent events.

Then he sees you curled up in the kitchen, and he just wants to make everything stop.

You’ve got your head in between your knees, tears falling freely from your cheeks as you cradle one arm in your other. Jimin notices with a jolt of shock that the arm you’re holding is all red and blotchy, and it’s clear to him that you must’ve burned yourself somehow.

He rushes to your side and holds you as carefully as he can, almost slipping on the pool of water and charred remnants of baking paper scattered on the tiled floor just beside you. “What happened?” he urges after trying to soothe your trembling form for ten minutes.

He has you on your feet now, arm in the sink as he runs icy cold water over the heated skin as gently as he can. He’s clumsier than you though, so even as he tries to handle your limbs with as much care as you’d once handled Mandu at the clinic, you still wince in pain every now and again. Guilt shoots through Jimin every time, but he knows you’ll forgive him.

You don’t speak until your arm is sufficiently treated and wrapped, thanks to Jimin’s courses in first aid that he can barely remember at this point, but it serves him well enough for now. Your eyes are downcast, and your lips are cracked from all the grief you’d caused them with your teeth. He waits for you to get it together.

“I’m … I’m sorry you had to come all this way-”

“Don’t say that, I’m so glad you called me (Y/n),” he cuts you off, leading you to the plush couch in the living room and sitting you down firmly. He kneels in front of your figure, now wrapped tightly in a blanket for security and comfort, and rests both of his hands on your upper arms.

“You need to tell me what happened, do you feel alright now?”

You nod your head, but he fixes you with strong disbelieving eyes and boom you’re weakened, shaking your head with a sigh. “No, I’m not.”

“How can I help? I’m not great at it, but I really want to help you,” he says earnestly, fingers pressing circles into your arms and calming you down enough to breathe evenly. Your lips twitch up into a nervous smile.

“That song you sang over the phone helped a lot, actually. I don’t know why.”

Hearing that causes Jimin to undergo a whirlwind of conflicted emotions, but he once again tells himself that you’re the only one that matters right now. He starts to sing again but you reach forward to ruffle his messy hair with a chuckle. “It’s okay, I’m just letting you know.”

Thank God, he thinks. Then again, maybe if he uses the melody and lyrics for good, those negative associations could be turned into positive ones. Maybe it was time to make the song his own.

He sees you struggling to think of where to begin and shifts to take a seat next to you with a smile. “Just start with what happened, yeah?”

“Okay.” You nod, combing back your hair with your fingers and wiping the last salty tears from your skin. “So I wanted to try baking something…”

You eye him with a glimmer of amusement in your gaze, and he instantly capitalises on it. “Well there’s your first mistake.”

You playfully wack him, feeling your spirits lift at the sound of his laugh and the sight of his crescent moon-shaped eyes. He really was your light in the dark right now.

“It was going well, actually, but then I heard Ghostie knock something over in my room and I went to check for … not even two seconds.”

Jimin knows that this is where it gets serious, your eyes glaze over again and he can see the recollection of the events flashing through your mind like a reel of film. “I left the baking paper out, and the space was way too messy, I-I definitely should’ve kept it cleaner. I came back and there were some things on fire, but nothing too bad. I just…”

You bend down to rest your face into your hands once more, and Jimin quietly rubs your back in concern. By the looks of it, you were able to put the fire out easily, so what exactly prompted you to break down like that?

You lift your head and keep your shaky hands clamped together by your lips, eyes stricken and weary from the onslaught of emotional stress. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet Jiminie, I would never hide anything from you, so I guess it just never came up. It’s … why I kind of lost the plot after throwing water over the entire kitchen like a lunatic.”

“You can tell me,” he soothes, brows furrowing in distress.

“It’s my parents. How they died….”

His throat tightens with apprehension at the topic, knowing it’s something you definitely avoid talking about whenever it comes up. It was always buried so deep, and Jimin can’t recall ever asking you about the finer details of what you went through.

He feels time slow to a halt as you utter your next words. “They died in a house fire when I was fourteen. Burned to death.”

Oh fuck. Fuck.

It falls into place now, and Jimin snaps out of his daze when he feels your shoulder shudder underneath the palm of his hand. He’s at a loss for words, the sight of how truly upset you are making his heart sink in sorrow.

He scoots over on the couch to hold you close and whisper soft calming words. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You’re alright, I’m here now.”

You know he has no idea how much it means to you, just hearing those simple words when the anxiety and fear continue to claw at your throat like hellish nails. You’re caught in its grip, the flashing images of flames and the sounds and smells of screeching, burning, crumbling to dust. It surrounds you, and you choke on the tendrils of smoke as if they’re really there, filling your lungs like a heavy sand. It stings, and it’s excruciating.

“Maybe I’d fare a little better … if I’d just stayed somewhere else that night,” you can’t help whimpering out, the memories resurfacing too quickly for you to have control over them.

“You were there?” Jimin reels. Hearing that you’d witnessed your own parent’s death was nothing short of devastating. That was way too much for a young mind to handle, surely. Could the world really be that cruel to one of, if not the most amazing person he’s ever met? He can’t help but cry for you in this moment, trying his best to stay silent as his tears soak into your shirt.

You both stay locked together for another hour or so, Jimin listening intently as you explain the story to him of what happened that night. It’s agonising to relive it, but you know he needs to hear it from you. There’s nowhere else he can hear it from, really.

“Y’know, working in the force meant I had to handle situations like that a few times. It was rare, but it did happen. I’ve seen the faces of the families; I’ve seen the damage it can cause. I just wish you hadn’t been alone, fuck,” he mumbles, hating that he can’t just go back and fix what’s unfixable.

You wave him off. “Jimin, you’ve done more for me tonight than … literally anyone’s ever done for me. Truly, I love you for that.”

His heart leaps in his chest.

“I don’t relapse too often,” you carry on shakily, “it’s just that the sight of a fire that’s out of control just … it just terrifies me so much. I see their faces in the flames.”

It’s so fucking messed up. He feels his entire being shiver in discomfort at the image you’re painting for him, but he only holds you closer. He wants to chase it all away, even though deep down he knows he can’t. All he can do is be here for you, with you when you need it most.

“That’s why I went into vet science,” you say, eyes growing brighter the longer Jimin embraces you. It’s like he’s physically holding you together, and it’s so very safe in his arms. “I had to come to terms with death as a concept, like properly. I wanted to save those who didn’t deserve it just yet, those who deserve to live longer lives just like they did. It’s my life’s purpose.”

Jimin comes to the realisation, right then and there, that he probably loves you.

You are, without a doubt in his mind, the strongest and most remarkable person he’s ever met. He wants to be around you all the time, wants to share your energy, wants to be half as amazing as you are – with every fibre of his being. It’s not like he can just say that though. Not right now, anyway.

He tucks the thought away for another time. A better one.

“What about you? Why did you want to become a police officer?” you ask, snorting once into a tissue to finally rid yourself of the snot and tears.

“Me?” Jimin chuckles. You’re always one to turn it around, never wanting the spotlight for more than needed. He fondly reaches up to run his fingers through your hair, grazing the skin of your cheek along the way and making you smile wistfully.

“Well, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why. It always comes down to justice, right? We all want to enforce that, protect those that need protecting, and saving lives as well. I’m very similar to you in that sense,” he starts, clearing his throat to lighten the atmosphere with a confident tone. You find yourself snuggling into his side, just longing to hear him talk for hours while you wrap yourself in the warmth of the blanket and his reassuring presence.

“My family left a while back, and my brother was the only one who stayed with me. Both of us had to fend for ourselves, and with me being the eldest, it was easy to fall into that father-figure kind of mould. I wanted to protect what we had, but it was pretty laughable when I was the smaller kid.” Jimin laughs, surprising not only himself, but you with the way he speaks about his past so openly and without any bitterness or animosity.

He was looking at it a different way, and he had you to thank for that.

“So I trained,” he continues. “I trained so hard and spent years proving myself. I came home to our tiny flat every night, prouder than I’d been the night before. And Tae-”

His throat tightens and he has to cut himself off, the syllables of his brother’s name dying on his tongue due to disuse. He hasn’t said it in years, and the feeling his name conjures is strange. There’s the ever-present cold hard hatred building in his chest, but in some wild and wacky way, it’s easier to move past it.

“Taehyung … he was so proud of me too.”

You lift your head from where it rests on Jimin’s chest, moving your hand to envelope his where it resides in his lap. His fingers grasp yours gently, a simple squeeze telling you that he’s alright to keep going. He’s got you so relaxed in his arms that you can almost feel yourself falling asleep, but you know you mustn’t. You have to stay awake for him right now, right when he’s opening up completely.

“Since you shared your story, I figure I have to share mine.” Jimin smiles, the expression not completely reaching his eyes. Both of you have made so much progress tonight, it’s not even funny. He knows that if he doesn’t tell you now, he most likely never will.

“We … fell in love with the same person, me and Tae. It got ugly, and we were super close until the countless fights and yelling matches tore us apart. Even after we both got over this person, we couldn’t stand each-other. We couldn’t make it through one day without a handful of painful jabs being sent back and forth. It was bad, so bad.” He takes a deep breath, and you sit up slightly to hold him closer. The positions were reversed now.

“I needed him, despite all that, I really did. He was the only one left, and I was too proud to just forget everything that’d happened to us. I got offered a place in an exchange program with a group of officers in my force, it was to Europe and it went for no longer than two weeks, but when I got back Tae was…”

“He was gone,” you finish for him when he can’t, raising your hand to wipe the singular tear cascading down his smooth cheek. Jimin sniffs and smiles at you, turning to bury his face into your hair and letting out a large, heavy exhale.

“I sold the flat after many nights of just crying and breaking down,” he mumbles softly into your head. “I still don’t know where he went, but I also didn’t want to exploit my access to citizen information to find out. I think that’s when my passion for the force started to die down, though it took years for me to finally have the guts to leave. Nothing’s fair in this godforsaken world.”

It was a harsh and negative outlook, but you found yourself agreeing to a certain extent. Here you were, the epitome of optimism and ‘bright side’ herself, wanting to watch the world burn for just a second. Just like your family had.

You cringe at your own line of thought. “It’s our job to make it better-”

“Don’t even say it (Y/n), I swear to God,” Jimin warns playfully, cupping you cheeks in both palms and squishing them until your lips open and close like a fish. His eyes sparkle with adoration, and you whine out in protest against his actions before you can get lost in them.

“I’m just saying!”

“Don’t just say! Let me be emo for once you fool.” He tackles you onto the couch, spirits steadily rising from the depressing venture into his memories. Feeling light and as unburdened as a feather, he pins you down and tickles your sides mercilessly.

You miss the warmth of his comforting hugs but can’t help shrieking in laughter as you let it happen. You’re happier seeing him happy anyway.

Before things can escalate further, a disapproving meow interrupts the two of you, and you both whip your heads to the side to see Ghost sitting in the middle of the room. Her tail twitches in annoyance, and her face seems to be screaming ‘are you lumbering idiots done yet?’.

“Wow, a whole mood-killer. Maybe we should clean up the kitchen, actually,” you suggest while trying to catch your breath, grateful for the reprieve. Jimin’s eyes flit back to meet yours, and you catch the dark look he’s giving you. He knows you’re just trying to escape him right now.

“Fine, but don’t go thinking you’re off the hook even for a second.”

Weeks fly by after your emotion-packed, train-wreck of a night. If anything, it only drew you and Jimin closer than ever. You now had another layer to your friendship, another reason to stick together through thick and thin.

Jimin had attended around three hydrotherapy sessions with Mandu, and to your delight, it actually seemed to be working well! The dog would definitely soon be right on track to return to his former glory, minus the slight greying around his muzzle from old age. There only seemed to be one problem though…

Mandu was shit scared of water.

Every single time, the poor canine would whine and yelp for his owner as if he were legitimately dying. You could only watch on in amused silence, pursing your lips to hold back a cackle as your best friend had to bend down at the pool’s edge in order to calm the dog down.

The staff members working at the specialist pool were understanding at least, but that didn’t stop Jimin’s cheeks from flushing with embarrassment every single time.

“Buddy please, you’ve literally chased down killers and jumped over an entire ravine before. Some water won’t kill you!”

It fell on deaf ears, and Mandu howled extra forcefully in defiance. You couldn’t hold back your snort of laughter this time, the scene of the heated argument between dog and owner way too funny to let slide. Jimin throws a betrayed look at you over his shoulder, grumbling something under his breath you can’t quite catch.

In the end, some of the more patient staff members manage to coax the shaky dog into the water, and it’s with great struggle that they finally manage to get him swimming properly. Jimin has to stay within the dog’s line of sight 24/7, even one moment away and Mandu would start thrashing about and yipping in a panic.

You laugh at Jimin the entire time as you stand back to watch, the looks he sends you in return having ‘traitor’ written all over them. If he didn’t have to stay dutifully by the poolside, you’d be in your right mind to believe he’d storm over and kick you into next week for being so bratty.

“You just need to practice. Get him used to it,” you tell him once you’re all leaving the facility, a freshly dried pooch trotting beside you with fur sticking up in all directions. You can’t help but think the dog reminds you of Jimin like this, back when he’d rushed to the clinic in all kinds of disarray.

“Used to it? Did you see him in there!?” Jimin splutters, squatting down to hold Mandu’s face sternly between his palms. The dog remains unbothered as he flashes you a side-eye for assistance.

“Yes I saw. I’m surprised police dogs don’t spend more time training in water, to be honest,” you muse thoughtfully, reaching down to ruffle Mandu’s ears in reassurance. “It’s okay baby boy, you’re not alone,” you coo, smiling when the dog’s tail wags twice in response.

“Baby b…” Jimin trails off, clearing his throat consciously after feeling heat crawl up his neck at the pet-name.

“Anyway, it’s been a few sessions and he hasn’t quite got the hang of it. Why don’t we try spending some time in the water outside of sessions too?” you suggest cheerfully.

“Where? I don’t have a pool.” Jimin cocks an incredulous brow. There’s no way any public pool in these parts would let some random dude and his dog splash around and dirty their space.

You step up and poke Jimin firmly in the chest with one finger. “Did you just never look out the back of my place?”

“You have a pool? What in the hell-”

Jimin’s mouth hangs open in outrage. Even after all this time, he really hadn’t noticed it even once? You had to be fucking with him. “No way.”

“Uhh, yes way? Dude all you had to do was look outside.” You rest your hands on your hips, definitely unimpressed right now but trying your best not to laugh at him too much. He’s already been the butt of all your jokes today. Every single one.

Jimin has to see it for himself to believe it, so the next evening he pulls up to your home with Mandu in the passenger seat. The poor baby is blissfully unaware of the fate that awaits him here, but Jimin only feels the sweet, sweet taste of revenge on his tongue at the notion. After the hell Mandu had put him through these past few weeks, it was time to get payback.

“C’mon boy,” he sniggers. An evil grin stretches across his face and figurative crimson devil horns poke out from his hair.

“How dare you take advantage of him and his inability to be human,” you drawl lazily from the now open front door, and Jimin jumps in his skin from the shock. He hadn’t even made it to the damn porch and you’d already heard him.

“He deserves the slander.”

You shake your head and lead the duo inside, instantly groaning when Ghost and Mandu begin hissing and snarling at each other like their toes have been stepped on. Your fluffy white cat has all her hackles raised in hostility, and the dog in return has his lips drawn back to reveal a row of sharp white fangs.

You’re at your wits end, and similar to the other few instances of Mandu and Ghost meeting, you stomp your foot and stand over the pair as menacingly as you can. “You two are acting like complete animals right now, calm down or you’re going into timeout!”

When the two pets actually shut up, Jimin guffaws with no restraint. You simply huff, as if expecting that your threats would work regardless, and gesture to the glass sliding door adjacent to the kitchen. “It’s out there, are you happy now?”

Jimin cranes his neck and lo and behold, there it is in all its glory. A fucking pool. And to top it all off, it’s even surrounded by a towering black metal fence and gate, as if Jimin didn’t feel stupid enough for not noticing it already.

“So who was wrong and who was right?”

“Shut up.”

The two of you get ready to begin your little ‘home brand’ hydrotherapy session, with Jimin already donning swim trunks in case he has to jump in and intervene at any point. The pool is already much deeper than he’d anticipated, considering the ones at the actual therapy centre were nice and shallow for the dogs in rehab.

You’re dressed in a similar manner, with small tight shorts and a black t-shirt that’s so long it almost hides the fact that you’re wearing pants at all. Jimin has to keep his gaze controlled from raking up the expanse of your bare legs. He wonders if you’d somehow planned to get him all hot and bothered, seeing as it was a warm Spring night that was perfect for taking a dip.

“Okay, well he already seems spooked at the sight of water. You’re going to have to get in,” you say apprehensively, eyeing the way Mandu is already shifting anxiously from paw to paw. You’re all stood beside the shallow end of the pool, the gate fastened shut in case the dog tries to make a break for it suddenly.

Jimin coaxes Mandu forward with soft words of support and praise, taking the steps one at a time. It’s obvious how much the canine is hating this, his ears are pinned flat to his head and his knees are wobbling from the fear. Your heart is shot through with pity for the animal, but he needs to get better at this.

“Here, I’ll help,” you mumble, getting to your feet and stepping into the pool behind the jittery dog. With Jimin pulling him forward by his shoulders, and you urging him onwards from behind, it doesn’t take long for him to start doggy-paddling around. You help Jimin monitor his movements, checking for any signs of discomfort but finding nothing as Mandu works to keep his snout above water.

“I think he’s less nervous because it’s just us,” Jimin comments, a wide smile on his face at seeing his boy paddle around calmly. No frantic thrashing, no barking, no outbreak of chaos as usual.

“Funny that,” you breathe out with a chuckle. The waterline comes up to around your chest at this height, and you shiver as the cool liquid brushes against the underside of your bra. “I can’t go much further, all my underwear’s gonna get wet.”

The innuendo is essentially fresh bait, and you already know you’ve set yourself up nicely just before Jimin chuckles. “Right, why don’t you just go back and take a cold shower then huh?”

“Literally fuck you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to get wet?”

You gape at his bold humour, not used to the suggestive way he’s eyeing you as he leads his innocent dog around in the pool. If you were being honest, the ideas he’s putting into your head are absolutely sinful to say the least.

“What if I do?” you scoff, and two seconds later you’re plunging deeper into the refreshing coolness of the water before Jimin can even clap back with something lewder. You’re completely submerged, and for some reason Mandu begins to panic slightly when you vanish from sight.

“Woah, it’s okay she’s not drowning,” Jimin hushes in a serious tone, making sure to support the dog’s body with both arms as the animal treads through the water with powerful kicks of his hind legs. You resurface further down, hair now completely wet and sticking to your head uncomfortably.

“Hey, he got scared for you just then,” Jimin calls out. You feel a tug on your heartstrings and swim back down to the shallower part of the pool.

“Aw, Mandu was worried for me? What happened to hating my guts for stealing Jimin?”

Jimin gives you a weird look at that. “Stealing me? Jesus, do I just exist to be passed around by you guys?”

“Maybe.” You giggle. Something about the assertive way you act has Jimin feeling hot all over, and he’s reminded yet again that it’s a quality of yours he’s come to find madly attractive.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that your basically halfway naked not even a metre away from him. He can’t even focus on the task at hand when he gets a full view of your soaked t-shirt, and how the outlines of your rounded chest are now completely visible to his watchful eyes.

He can’t help but gulp at the thoughts running through his mind. “Hey, how long has it been now? Think that’s about one session’s worth for today.”

“Right, it probably is. Good progress! I might stay out here for a bit though, it’s super hot and my air conditioner basically cracked the shits last night.”

Jimin climbs out of the pool, the hem of his shirt soaked but luckily everything above that dry as a bone. He grabs a towel and dries Mandu off, whispering praises of how well he did to swim properly today. Once he’s done, he opens the gate and lets the dog out to run around your somewhat spacious backyard. Jimin has to look away in disdain, because he knows it won’t be long before his buddy starts rolling around and making himself filthy again.

Jimin returns his gaze back to you, and he stifles a laugh when he sees you randomly floating on your back in the middle of the pool, limbs splayed out like a starfish. You look dead to the world, but honestly, he can’t blame you. It is rather hot for a Spring night.

He barely even thinks about his actions before he’s peeling the shirt from his back. His honey blonde hair becomes tousled from the movement, and he throws away the piece of clothing without batting an eyelid.

As for you, well, now you’re stressed.

Sure, you knew he was an ex-police officer. You knew he worked out daily and took care of himself unbelievably well. Sure, you were happy to just close your eyes and pretend like you weren’t ogling the heck out of him right now, but it just wasn’t happening.

He was absolutely beautiful; you could even say carved from marble and it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. It was difficult not to gawk at the smooth way his muscled arms and shoulders tapered down into a gracefully cinched waist, not to mention the nice set of washboard abs and delicious V-line that has your mouth very nearly watering. You remind yourself to ask him later what the large ‘Nevermind’ tattoo stretching along his ribcage means.

“Wow, you could have some shame.” He flashes you that shit-eating grin, but frankly, you’re just ecstatic that he seems to be so confident in his own skin. Once upon a time throughout your friendship, he would have never been this comfortable around you.

“What, am I not allowed to appreciate what you’re showing me? You could’ve easily just left the shirt on,” you complain loudly, rolling over to lay face down in the water in hopes that it would douse the heating of your rapidly burning cheeks. With your eyes and ears underwater, you only feel the ripples hit your skin as he jumps in to join you.

You lift your head and gasp for air, catching sight of him swimming towards you rapidly. “Wait, what are you doing!?” You barely get to shout before he’s picking you up and throwing you back down into the water with a tremendous splash, loud laughter booming from his chest as you scream and struggle in his grip.

“Jimin I swear-”

You cut yourself off by sweeping a massive wave of water in his direction with both arms, grinning wickedly as it smacks him straight in the face. He wipes at his eyes and shakes his head, much like a dog would, and you vaguely register Mandu’s barks of excitement from somewhere out in the yard.

“I’m getting you back for that,” Jimin grunts, and you feel your stomach squirm as he starts moving towards you again.

“No, no, no! Okay I’ll be good, leave me please!”

Your pleas are left unheard as you try to escape from his grasp, but he’s too quick and too strong to evade. Your legs kick up into the air helplessly as he dunks you again, and once you finally resurface, he’s already got you in his hold. “Stop, I can’t compete with you, you beefcake.” You purse your lips and blow a raspberry of pool spittle into his face, struggling within his arms in fear that he would start throwing you again, or even worse … tickle you.

Your loud wails and shrieks of laughter had filled the air for the past ten minutes or so, but you were obviously weaker than he was, and you both knew you were going to tire out much faster. So, to your pleasant surprise, he stops teasing you and simply holds you by the waist, high enough that your entire head and neck are above water.

“You’re absolutely ruthless,” you grumble, bringing your hands up to rest on his bare biceps for support. You marvel at the way the lean muscles flex underneath your fingers as he shifts you to be more comfortable.

It’s so very hot, and you can’t help but notice the heat licking at your abdomen the longer you stay locked in this position. Your legs wrapped around his torso, and his face is just above the line of your soaked chest. You just thank God you hadn’t chosen to wear a white shirt at this point.

“Yeah, well you’re just fun to mess with,” he finally responds after a few moments of slowly floating around the pool’s edge. You smile warmly down at him and use both your hands to comb back his dripping hair with your deft fingers. Once again, you’re stunned into silence at how attractive he truly is. Especially when he looks at you like that.

Wait, why is he looking at you like that?

His handsome eyes are dark, and lidded. He’s smirking at you just as he always does, but this time there’s something different. The air around you changes. It feels … charged.

He’s not done, shockingly, and he continues to back you up until you feel the edge of the pool press into your back ever so slightly. He then lets you down to stand on your own two feet now that it’s shallow, your toes brush the pool tiles suddenly and the feeling elicits a small jump of surprise.

He’s closer than he’s ever been, and you feel your breath hitch at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against the material of your saturated bra. His hands come up to trace the line of your waist again, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Jimin,” you sigh, looking up at him through your lashes. Your hands have a mind of their own at this point, and they find themselves tracing the lines of his dripping arm muscles once more. His eyes are staring into your own, burning with a heat and a desire you know all too well.

He wants you, right now.

You immediately cave in, feeling your thighs squeeze together as he descends upon your lips. The kiss is somewhere in between sensual and ravenous, with both your lips parting almost simultaneously in pleasant surprise. He lifts one hand from your hips to tangle into the wet hair at the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him as he melds his lips together with yours.

God, you’ve pined after him for so long that you somehow forgot what the feeling was called. You moan softly into the kiss and feel his lips quirk into a smile. He immediately knows just how badly you’d been craving this, and honestly, he’s been thinking about the exact same thing for months now. You both just needed some kind of hot situation to force you together, to give you the confidence to finally take the chance.

“You don’t know how long I’ve just wanted to have you like this,” Jimin says in a low voice, pulling back to catch his breath and rest his forehead upon yours for a moment. Your heart is going absolutely crazy in your chest, and you bring both your hands up to cup his face gently.

“I’ve wanted you since we met in that damn park, can you beat that?” You hum sweetly.

His eyes widen immensely, but then soften in a warm realisation. “Okay, I think you got me there. It’s been a couple of months though. Wow, the park? Really?”

You nod, and he lifts his hand to cover yours over his cheek. His eyes are swimming with a love so deep and profound, you just want to kiss him silly. “Yeah, I mean I don’t think I fully realised it until later on. I was happy to just keep that crazy good friendship of ours, but then I knew all along I was in deep,” you say candidly.

Jimin kisses you again long and hard. “Shit, I think I’m gonna say it. I love you. God I love you so, so much.”

You could almost cry at the heartfelt confession. His smile is blindingly bright, and his eyes are positively gleaming with happiness. You realise then that they weren’t tired anymore. Perhaps they hadn’t been for a while now.

“You saved me, (Y/n). You literally brought me out of a dark place I never thought I’d get to leave.”

“Stop you’re going to make me...”

‘I’m serious,” he murmurs, lifting your face with his thumb and forefinger to catch your overwhelmed expression.

You peck his cute little nose. “I know you are, and the same goes for you! You were always there when I needed you, Jim. I love you so fucking much, it hurts.”

He laughs airily, chest feeling light and fit to burst from your requited affections. He can’t believe that for once, this cruel world had decided to give him something nice for a change. He was … actually allowed to keep you?

At the same time, you’re positively brimming with relief and pure bliss. You jerk forward and catch him in a needy kiss mid-laugh, silencing all your nerves and disbelief as he returns it passionately. You squeak in surprise when he lifts your body – with ease, you might add, thanks to his physique – to sit up on the edge of the pool.

He continues to trail his lips along your skin as you hold him tight, and you love the way he handles you so carefully as if you’ll break in his palms if he’s somehow too rough. You simply can’t wait to see his face when you tell him you like it that way.

As he moves to your neck, you snake your arms around him and drag your nails down his back sensually, needing to feel him against you to prove that this is happening, that this is real and not some kind of dream.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans, nibbling at the juncture of your neck and sucking harshly at the skin there. The contrast of the cool droplets of water clinging to your body as they meet his hot languid tongue has you shivering all over.

You can’t get enough of his lips, and you’re all but suddenly finding out just how skilled he actually is with his mouth. Tiny lustful whimpers fall freely from your throat as his hands move from your neck down to your breasts, and when he begins to brush his fingertips over your nipples through the shirt and bra with a broken groan, you just about lose it.

“Jimin, I want to feel you,” you choke out, pulling him as close as the edge of the pool will allow. Thankfully, it’s shallow enough on his end that he can still reach up to your face, and you instantly take advantage of your height boost to wrap your legs around his body.

You tilt his chin upwards towards you with one finger and part your lips, instantly feeling his tongue slide fervently past them into your mouth. It’s such a forward and sultry manoeuvre that you lose yourself in the pure unadulterated heat of the moment. God, you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His hands, which had fallen to brace himself on the concrete tiles on either side of your hips, now find purchase on your bare dripping wet thighs. You can’t suppress a shudder when he digs his fingers into those too, tracing circles with his thumbs to let you know where he’s going with this.

You pull away from his irresistible lips with a gasp. “What are you..?”

He smirks, mouth all swollen from your teeth and tongue, eyes pinning you down with a dark gaze full of salacious longing. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter, until he growls, “I wanna take you right here, right now,” with a lick of his lips and downward glance of his eyes.

You’re left speechless, and before you can muster up anything to say in response, he’s hooking his arms underneath your knees and parting your shaky thighs slowly. He angles you closer to the edge of the pool, and you want nothing more than to just be under him. “Oh God. Jimin we should go inside.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, but then a flurry of wild barking and panting causes both of you to whip your heads around. There stands the source of the noise in question, all covered in grass and weeds from romping around your yard, and it bounds incessantly around the towering pool fence.

He’s watching you both excitedly and demands your undivided attention with another yap. If you had to take a wild guess as to what the dog wanted, it would be that he wishes to join in with his family’s little ‘wrestling’ match rather than being locked outside in the lonely backyard. You and Jimin exchange a look.

“Yeah, not in front of Mandu.”

“Never in front of him.”

You both grab your towels and scamper inside like two horny teenagers, very naked and afraid, but still laughing the entire way at your predicament.

Safely within your walls and locked away from the innocence of animals, you pick up where you left off beside the pool. The haphazardly tossed pieces of wet clothing and damp footprints throughout the house are soon forgotten when Jimin gets you in between your sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to have you screaming his name well into the night, and you’re sure that by the end of it, his lips and tongue have touched almost every inch of your body.

That’s not to say you didn’t have a fair go at him too, because when you wake in the morning to turn and see your hickeys scattered across his bare neck and stomach, you swear you’ve never felt more satisfied in your life. Yes, he’d proven himself to be quite a little switch in the making, and you feel positively giddy at the prospect of getting so much more time with him to find out exactly where that might lead.

He was yours and you were his. Together, you had something truly marvellous.

He turns his head with a grunt and catches you admiring his sleeping form. The resulting dazzling smile that splits his face leaves you positively breathless, just as every other aspect about him does.

“Morning,” you both mumble at the same time, and while you scrunch your face up in an endeared cringe, Jimin just laughs sweetly at the clumsiness between you. He moves over to plant the softest of kisses to your forehead, and you cuddle into his side like it’s your designated space to reside until the end of time.

In lieu of the family-shaped hole you’d been carrying with you your whole life, there now appeared a Jimin-shaped puzzle piece slotting into place.

And with that, you could ask for nothing more.

Somewhere in the distant night, a young man taps his finger on the steering wheel of his car as he speeds along the eerily quiet highway.

The late hour does nothing to deter him, and he fights back the drowsiness threatening to pull him under as the road falls away beneath the tyres. He’s been driving for hours, but he persists without rest and soldiers on, full of purpose. Every time he feels a shred of doubt begin to linger in his mind, he glances over to the wrinkled photo resting on his dashboard and the initial burst of vigour returns.

He runs a hand through his long, curly black hair and eyes the photo again. The smiling faces look back at him, and he immediately wonders for the millionth time if he truly is doing the right thing here. The turn-off sign whizzes by his car window, and he realises that now is his last chance to change his mind.

He can keep living a peaceful life if he just continues straight past without looking back, but there’s no way he can do that. He can’t fail his only remaining family any longer.

He veers for the turn-off, taking a deep breath and reaching forward to brush a finger against one of the smiling faces in the roughly crinkled photo. It’s final, he’s made his decision.

I’m coming home.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

TO BE CONTINUED

#jimin x reader #jimin angst #jimin smut #bgwdynamitedads #btsghostie #jimin fluff #jimin scenarios #jimin imagines #bts smut #bts angst #jimin fanfic #BTS jimin #bts fluff #bts fanfic #policeman jimin #s2l au #heavy angst #shy jimin #saladejin

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corkcitylibraries · 4 years

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The Irish Marriage Equality Campaign and Referendum

by Deirdre Swain

May 22 of this year was the fifth anniversary of the marriage equality referendum, which made it legal for same-sex couples to marry. In 2011, when the Labour and Fine Gael political parties formed a coalition government, they agreed to establish a Constitutional Convention which would consider and make recommendations on six specific issues, including provision for same-sex marriage. Following from this, in April 2013, this Consitutional Convention was scheduled to discuss same-sex marriage and to either reject or recommend it for constitutional change. The Convention secretariat proposed that Marriage Equality, the Gay and Lesbian Equality Network (GLEN) and the Irish Council for Civil Liberties (ICCL) would make presentations on one side and that the Irish Catholic Bishops’ Conference, the Knights of Columbanus and the Evangelical Association of Ireland would present on the other. 79 of the 100 delegates voted to ask the Government to change the Constitution to allow for civil marriage for same-sex couples. On November 05 2013, the government announced that a referendum on same-sex marriage would be held in 2015, and on February 20 2015, the Taoiseach announced that the date of the referendum would be May 22 that year.

An organisation called Marriage Equality was formed to support Katherine Zappone and Ann Louise Gilligan’s High Court case to get their Canadian marriage recognised in Ireland. GLEN had been campaigning for full legal and constitutional equality for lesbian, gay and bisexual people since 1988. The ICCL had been a long-time champion of gay rights over much of its 40-year history. These three organisations now had one common objective: to legalise same-sex marriage. Gráinne Healy from Marriage Equality, Brian Sheehan of GLEN and Mark Kelly of ICCL met regularly and, together with the barrister Noel Whelan, who joined them later, became the main leaders of the marriage equality campaign. “Yes equality” was the name chosen for the campaign, as it did not identify the campaign as LGBT, but rather, it was about the collective values of the Irish people as a whole.

The first undertaking organised by Yes Equality was the Register to Vote initiative. The Union of Students in Ireland (USI), college societies, the LGBT youth organisation BeLonG To as well as other LGBT organisations galvanised young people to register to vote. Voter registration clinics were run by LGBT groups across the country. The aim of reaching young people worked well through social media. The Register to Vote initiative put at least 40,000 new voters on the electoral register.

One of the main strategies of Yes Equality took its inspiration from Scotland: during the Scottish Independence referendum campaign, a woman had held a home-made placard on which she had painted the words, “I’m Voting Yes, Ask Me Why”. The personal stories were crucial to the yes side of the marriage equality campaign. These included not just stories from gay and lesbian people themselves, but from their children, their parents, and also from heterosexual people who explained why they were voting yes. Two groups in the United States, Freedom to Marry and the Human Rights Campaign, who had campaigned for marriage equality across the United States, shared their experiences with Yes Equality. This advice as well as focus group research done in Ireland revealed to Yes Equality that the segment of the electorate which could be easily swayed to vote no were men between the ages of 40 and 60. These advisors in the USA stated that the best way to reach these soft voters was to use the personal stories of heterosexual people and parents of gays and lesbians, as well as people who had not been in favour of same-sex marriage but who had changed their mind. For example, the actor Colin Farrell, a heterosexual man, declared his support for the Yes vote on Claire Byrne Live, stating that his brother was gay and had had a very hard time in school because of his sexuality, and he wanted him to experience equality. Former President Mary McAleese, whose son Justin is gay, spoke in favour of the Yes vote as well. And Simon Coveney recounted on Newstalk that he had previously had reservations about same-sex marriage because of his traditional views on marriage, but that he now believed that everyone had to be treated equally. The focus of the campaign was therefore on personal stories, which were credible and uncontrived. The campaign would engage with doubts and reassure. Yes Equality was non-threatening and would strive not to show the No side to be victims. People were not being directed to vote yes. They were being asked if they wanted to hear why other people were voting yes.

The other important strategy of Yes Equality was to challenge misinformation and misleading messages. The focus of the No campaign was on children and parenting. One of their posters showed a picture of a baby with 2 parents, stating that a child needs a mother and a father. Another No poster contained a photo of a small vulnerable child on her own, stating that a child needs her mother forever, not just for 9 months. The arguments that these posters were raising were that children should not be adopted or raised by same-sex couples, and that surrogacy for the benefit of same-sex couples was not in the best interests of a child. Both of these arguments were completely irrelevant to the question in hand, because nothing would change with regard to either of these issues if same-sex marriage were legalised. Children already existed who had same-sex parents. As Safia, Colm O’Gorman’s daughter said on the Ray D’Arcy Show of her two dads: “My parents are my parents and I think my family is great, as it happens”. She went on to say that: “It should not matter whether a child’s parents were a man and a woman or two men or two women as long as the child is loved, cared for and supported.” Gay couples could already adopt children, and this would not change if same-sex marriage were voted in. The instance of surrogacy would not necessarily increase either. The first poster actually caused upset to non-gay- and lesbian-headed families, because it was implying that any family which did not have both a father and a mother (including a family with a widowed parent) was damaging to a child. Even though the No side’s arguments had nothing to do with what was being voted on in the referendum, Yes Equality felt it was important to tackle these points, in order to engage with voters’ doubts. To this end, Geoffrey Shannon, child law expert and chairman of the Adoption Authority of Ireland was on the Claire Byrne Live show during a media debate on same-sex marriage. He pointed out that irrespective of whether the adoption applicant was single, a married couple, a cohabiting couple or a same-sex couple, the assessment looked at the potential parent’s or parents’ capacity to care for a child until they became an adult, and it was not concerned with gender or sexual orientation. He emphasised that birth mothers are centrally involved in the decision about the placement of a child and actually determine who a child is placed with. Most importantly, he stressed that whether the Yes vote won or not, the adoption process would not change. On a different episode of Claire Byrne Live, the Health Minister Leo Varadkar spoke about surrogacy. He explained that only around 10-12 children were born each year in Ireland through surrogacy, most of whom were born to an opposite-sex couple who had fertility difficulties. He stated that anonymous sperm and egg donations were already banned in Ireland and that forthcoming legislation would not only ban all commercial surrogacy but would require those seeking to avail of altruistic surrogacy to be approved in advance on criteria similar to that currently operating for adoption. These authoritative independent voices were important to reassure people with concerns about adoption and surrogacy. Yes Equality also emphasised that every children’s organisation, including ISPCC and Barnardo’s, supported a Yes vote in the referendum.

The third argument that the No campaign made was that civil partnerships were available to same-sex couples, so marriage was not necessary. One powerful counter-argument to this put forward by Yes Equality was that civil partnership did not recognise children whose parents were gay or lesbian. Katherine Zappone affirmed that even if civil partnership contained all the same rights and obligations as marriage, it was still exclusionary; it was a lesser form of acknowledgement and was rooted in a principle which promoted inequality.

The closing argument of Yes Equality was the message that gay men and lesbian women were part of every voter’s community; that they could be your neighbour, your uncle, your teacher, your friend. This idea was depicted in posters. The number of people who travelled home from abroad to vote in the referendum was astonishing. The turnout (just over 60%) was one of the highest ever for a referendum. The referendum was passed by 1,201,607 Yes votes (62.07%) to 734,300 (37.93%) No votes. All constituencies except Roscommon had Yes vote majorities.

References

Gilligan, A. L. and Zappone, K. (2008). Our lives out loud: In pursuit of justice & equality. Dublin: The O’Brien Press.

Healy, G., Sheehan, B. and Whelan, N. (2016). Ireland says yes: the inside story of how the vote for marriage equality was won. Co. Kildare: Merrion Press.

#corkcitylibraries #lgbt+#marriageequalityireland

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lafiametta · 5 years

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If Only in My Dreams

Jopson/Little Modern AU, 1.6K, Rated T

So for this ficlet I definitely took some inspiration from one of my favorite classic Christmas songs — and from my recent Jopson/Little Christmas moodboard. I apologize in advance for having Americanized the whole thing, but I needed a place where I had a decent handle on the geography!

For @theterrorbingo: “home”

“What do you mean, there are no available seats?”

Edward hadn’t meant to sound quite so desperate, but the beleaguered gate agent seemed to take it in stride, offering him an expression of measured sympathy.

“I’m sorry, sir, but it’s Christmas Eve.” As if in partial explanation, her eyes darted around the crowded gate area, which was filled to the brim with passengers toting winter coats and carry-ons and an occasional bag of wrapped presents. The squeal of a child’s tantrum rang out over the hubbub of voices. “There aren’t any seats on any flight that can get you to Chicago, at least not today. The first thing I can see would be for the morning of the 26th.”

“What about standby?”

She glanced down at the monitor behind the desk and then shook her head. “The standby lists are full. Everyone wants to get home today.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I know.”

She nodded, smiling in that compassionate, yet impersonal way that only well-trained customer service agents seemed to be able to manage. “You’re always free to keep checking in. You never know, something might open up.” She shrugged, a small twinkle catching in her eye. “It is Christmas. Miracles have been known to happen.”

Edward thanked her and then slunk away from the gate, entirely despondent. Maneuvering around the clumps of families eating food court meals from off their laps and the business-types clustered around the charging station, he managed to find a quiet space further down the concourse.

With a heavy heart, he pulled out his phone and pressed the first name that appeared on his recent call list.

The voice that answered was cheerful, as always. In the background, Edward thought he could hear the faint sound of Christmas music.

“Hey, gorgeous. What’s going on? I thought your flight already left.”

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, roughly rubbing his fingers across them. This was not the conversation he wanted to be having right now.

Tom absolutely adored the holidays: he loved the food and the celebrations and the gift-giving and the time with his friends and family. And Edward loved how excited Tom got about it all, how much he enjoyed planning everything down to the last red-and-green themed detail. What he was about to say was undoubtedly going to ruin nearly all of it.

“Yeah, about that. I’ve got some bad news...”

As quickly as he could, he explained the entire situation to Tom: the flight from Providence to New York had been painless, even getting in a little early, but as soon as he arrived at the gate for his flight to Chicago, they were told there was a mechanical issue with the plane. At first it was just a twenty minute delay, then another hour, until finally an airline representative got on the intercom and informed them that the flight had officially been cancelled. He had apologized, offering hotel vouchers, and told everyone that there would agents at the gate to help them rebook. Unfortunately for Edward, it looked like all the remaining seats had already been snatched up by the time he got to the head of the line.

Tom remained quiet while Edward spoke, and there was a long pause before he said anything at all.

“So what you’re saying is that you’re not going to make it back for Christmas?” Even though he wasn’t saying it outright, the disappointment in Tom’s voice couldn’t be more obvious.

Edward sighed, leaning back against the wall of the concourse. “Probably not. The next flight they could find for me is in two days.”

“Are you going to try to head back to your parents’?”

Edward’s family — mom, dad, brother, and three sisters — all lived close to Providence, and it wouldn’t be that hard to get a train. He had been staying with his parents for the past three days, celebrating an early Christmas with them before going back home to Chicago, and he knew they would be happy to have him stay another night or two. But he still wasn’t entirely willing to give up the idea of being with his boyfriend on Christmas.

“I don’t know. I think I might stick around the airport for a while. They said I could get lucky and something might open up at the last minute.”

“Okay.” He could still hear the quiet in Tom’s voice. “Well, keep me updated.”

“I will,” Edward promised, wishing more than anything that he had the power to physically transport himself through his phone’s electronic network. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

After he got off the phone, Edward tried his best to distract himself by exploring the rest of the terminal, rolling his small suitcase behind him as he wandered around various stores and kiosks. He went into the news shop and flipped through random magazines and best-seller paperbacks, tried out one of those massage chairs in the fancy gadget place, and half-heartedly contemplated buying a I ♡ NY t-shirt for Tom before coming to his senses and putting it back down.

The food court, naturally, was a zoo, and he wasn’t really hungry enough to sit down at one of those half-scale chain restaurants that lined the concourse. Eventually, he settled for a coffee and a bagel before parking himself at one of the gates. His plan, at this point, was to try to check in once an hour and hope that a single seat would somehow manage to wrest itself free in the meantime.

He texted Tom a couple of times, not that he had much to report, and did his best to engage in some naughty holiday-themed banter about what they might do once Edward finally got home, at first involving just mistletoe but eventually including outfits comprised of a single strategically-placed Santa hat.

As the afternoon stretched into the evening, however, Edward seemed to be no closer to finding a way back home and he was beginning to lose faith that he would be getting out the airport at any point in the near future. The airline agents were apologetic, even though they couldn’t do much for him. He was offered a hotel voucher again, which he took, but he still held onto the idea that he might somehow get onto a flight that night and make it back to Tom in time for Christmas.

After a few hours he called Tom, just wanting to hear his voice again, and it went straight to voicemail. He wasn’t sure why — their apartment generally had decent coverage — but he left a message, letting Tom know that he was going to try to camp out at the gate for a little while longer.

Eventually, though, the airport began to shut down for the night, gates emptying after the last fights boarded, stores and kiosks shuttering closed. At this point, Edward knew that he was going to have to give up — airport security wouldn’t let him spend the night sleeping at the gate across a row of seats — but he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. Across the concourse, what had to be the final flight for the night was emptying out into the waiting area, hundreds of passengers clearly happy to have arrived at their destination just in time for Christmas.

As he began to pack up everything into his carry-on, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was Tom, finally calling him back.

“Hey, I got your message.” The reception sounded strange, muddled by background noise. “Are you still at the airport?”

“Yeah,” Edward replied. “But I think I’m going to head out. I’ll come back and try again in the morning.”

“I think you should wait a little bit longer.”

“Why?” Edward could feel his brows knitting together in confusion. “There’s no point. There aren’t any more flights going out tonight.”

“I just think you might want to wait for, I don’t know, another twenty seconds.”

“Why—” Edward suddenly turned and looked over at the opposite gate, not entirely sure what had compelled him to do so, only to catch sight of an all-too familiar figure emerging out of a group of passengers and beginning to walk towards him.

“Merry Christmas,” Tom said, his voice coming through the phone against Edward’s ear, but Edward could see his lips as they silently formed the words.

He didn’t know what to say. It was completely impossible to imagine: somehow Tom had managed to find his way from Chicago to New York on Christmas Eve, giving up all of his well-laid holiday plans, just so they could be together. If he didn’t already know how much he loved Tom, the way his heart was presently stretching at its seams would have made that fact entirely clear.

They found each other in the middle of the concourse, oblivious to just about everyone else around them, arms wrapping tightly around each other in pure, unadulterated joy. It was only after they let go a little that Edward realized Tom didn’t seem to be carrying much in the way of luggage — just a satchel slung over his shoulder.

“Packing light?” he teased.

“I was in a hurry,” Tom answered, those pale green eyes growing warm around the edges. “I had to be somewhere for Christmas.”

“An airport?”

Tom smiled, a perfect pair of dimples setting off his grin. “With you.”

The urge to kiss him was so overwhelming that Edward couldn’t have resisted it had he even wanted to. He curled a hand around the warm nape of Tom’s neck and pulled him close, and as their lips met, a wordless declaration and a promise of things to come, he could think of nothing else but the man in his arms and how ridiculously lucky he was to have found him.

“It’s really true,” Edward murmured, smiling against Tom’s mouth as he suddenly remembered what the gate agent had said to him earlier that morning. “Sometimes miracles do happen.”

#the terror amc #joplittle #edward little #thomas jopson #theterrorbingo #au #fanfiction #the terror

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gra-sonas · 5 years

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A Kiss a Decade in the Making

Pairing: Malex, Alex Manes/Michael Guerin

Words: 4.8K | Rating: T | On AO3

"Is Jenna going to schedule snogging rehearsals for us?”

Alex smiles at him.

“It’s a fair question to ask. How do we, two people who’ve only just met, play two men who’ve been in love for a decade?"

Initially, the story stems from the question how the actors - who hadn't met before filming the pilot - may have worked out the 'logistics' of the Malex kiss in 1x01, and whether there was something like a snogging rehearsal. Any similarities between the characters and the actual actors are - of course - purely coincidental. ;)

A couple of dialogue snippets from the original Roswell New Mexico 1x01 script have made their way into the fic, they are displayed in a 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚝.

This fic has been sitting in my WIP folder for months and initially I had no plans to ever post it, but thanks to the wonderful encouragement and helpful beta works of @i-never-look-away & @cosmiceverafter, here it is. Love you, guys! ♥

~*~

When they get up to leave showrunner Jenna Cameron’s office, there’s a moment of hesitation as they arrive at the door at the same time. Michael takes the initiative and opens the door. He can’t help himself and bends his knee in a ridiculous half curtsy while he gestures at Alex to walk out first. Alex looks slightly bewildered for a moment but then he smiles.

“Thank you, Michael.”

Michael perks up. Not many people call him Michael, there are way too many Michaels in the world, that’s why he goes by Guerin everywhere.

“You can call me Guerin, it’s what everyone does.”

Alex nods.

“I’ll think about it. I like it though. Michael. It’s a good name. Suits you.”

He walks off and leaves a stunned Michael behind. What does that even mean, he’ll think about it? Michael’s just a name. Not a bad name, he also considers it a lucky name, after all it has landed him a role that could very well be his first leading role in a major network TV show. At least that’s what he likes to think.

For that to happen, the show just needs to get picked up to series. After reading the script and hearing Jenna talk about what she envisions, he’s even more confident that the show has great potential. If they are going to do this right, they will be picked up.

Doing it right is the thing though. He already loves Mikel Rath, sees a lot of himself in him, and a lot of things he can at least relate to. The quick wit, the anger issues, the sarcastic and funny side of him.

There’s just one thing he’s unsure about. The thing with Alistair. The Alistair & Mikel thing. He wonders what their moniker would be? Milistair? Or Alikel? Do they have to come up with one themselves, or will they leave that to the fans? He makes a mental note to ask Jenna about it.

Michael has a bunch of LGBTQ friends, he’s even part of the community himself (although he’s never acted on it, which sometimes makes him feel like he’s not allowed to claim membership), and he’s lived in LA long enough to be aware of the significance of LGBTQ representation on screen. He knows how important this relationship is going to be to many people. How important it is to get it right. From what Jenna’s just told them, she has a lot in mind for these two characters, but only if there’s going to be a show Aliens of New Mexico .

The pilot only gives them one shot at selling it. It won’t just be on their shoulders alone, of course, Liz and Max will have to do most of the heavy lifting with their characters, but he has a feeling that this Alistair and Mikel thing will still play a vital role in TV executives making a decision that could change his life forever.

Michael takes a deep breath and slowly walks back to his trailer. On the way he recalls the meeting he had with Jenna and Alex. Jenna’s awesome, he’s met her before back in LA, and she’s also responsible for hiring him. He met Alex for the first time in Jenna’s office just now, though. He hasn’t had much time to get to know the man yet.

Alex had been earnest during their meeting, notes written in the margins of his script and post-its marking some pages. He’d asked Jenna a lot of questions during their read through of the Alistair & Mikel scenes.

It had been interesting to listen to an experienced TV actor asking all these questions. Michael had never been an avid watcher of Charming Young Deceivers, but even he had heard about Gemma & Mic’s popularity. Referred to as Gemic by fans, they’d been crowned Best TV Couple in almost every online poll for several years, and Alex Manes had won three Teen Choice Awards for his portrayal of Mic, plus two others with his co-star for Best Couple. They’d also won three awards for Best Kiss. So, no pressure.

When Michael had found out that Alex Manes would play Alistair, he’d almost felt a bit giddy because he instantly knew what face went with the name.

He’d then done what he imagined most people would've done in his position: he’d gone and looked up Alex Manes in news and on social media. Since Instagram seemed to be his personal favorite, he went there first. Impressive follower count, very curated content (gorgeous photos though), cute dog (a beagle called Buffy, Alex had tagged her ‘Love of my Life’ in several photos). Alex seemed like an interesting guy who was not only very photogenic, but also had great taste in interior design, music, and he loved to travel. Michael had been looking forward to meeting him.

Then he’d read Alex’s Wikipedia entry. Like the character he was about to play, he came from a military family, his parents got divorced when Alex was in middle school and he’d grown up with his mom, while his three older brothers had stayed with their dad. He’d filmed a couple of indie movies and to Michael’s surprise, had released a number of singles. Michael’d listened to all of them and really liked them. One song had stood out to him in particular, a duet with Rosa Ortecho, a household name in the LA indie music scene. Michael was impressed.

Reading about the incident in Afghanistan, where Alex had been visiting US troops and lost part of his leg when their convoy had been attacked, had made Michael swallow hard. He’d then gone back to Alex’s Instagram account and looked through some of his more recent pictures. Now that Michael was aware of what had happened, he’d noticed a crutch in the background of some of the pictures. And there was a photo of Alex in a German military hospital, a beautiful dark-haired woman (probably his mom) by his side.

Now that they’ve met, Michael is not sure what to think of Alex, who seems to be so much more than the handful of “facts” Michael had gathered from the internet. Alex had been nothing but friendly during their meeting with Jenna, he’d often looked at Michael, had tried to include him in the conversation (it had seemed like he’d been aware that Michael didn’t come with the same kind of TV experience under his belt as he did), had asked him questions, had listened with great attention when Michael spoke.

All things considered it had been a great meeting. It had given Michael much needed input to get a better idea of the Alistair & Mikel dynamic. And yet her he is, still feeling somewhat insecure about it.

There’s one line in the pilot script that stood out to him in particular when he read the script for the first time, and it’s been nagging him ever since.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 -- 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝙺𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶

Muscle memory springing to life? How are they going to pull that off when they barely know each other?

When Michael reaches his trailer, he looks around. Max’s trailer is to his left, Isobel’s trailer is to his right, Liz is right across from him. Valenti’s trailer’s right to Liz’s, and if memory serves him right, Alex’s trailer is to Liz’s left.

With just an idea in his mind, Michael crosses the short distance and knocks on the door of Alex’s trailer.

“Come in.”

Michael opens the door and is hit by a waft of warm air that smells rather nice. He quickly enters the trailer and closes the door behind him. He looks around and although they’ve all arrived in Albuquerque just 48 hours ago, Alex’s trailer already looks very cozy and lived in.

A set of what must be scented candles is burning, set on a wooden plate on the sideboard in front of the big mirror. Something slow and jazz-y is playing over two small speakers, and Alex, clad in gray sweat pants and a soft looking baby blue hoodie, lounges on the recliner, a beautifully patterned quilt in earthy colors draped over his lower legs.

He’s looking up at Michael, carefully placing a bookmark in the pilot episode script he'd been reading when Michael entered the trailer, before he places it on the table in front of him.

“Michael, good to see you. Can I offer you some tea?”

Michael is not much of a tea drinker, but it’s cold in Albuquerque this time of the year, and if Alex’s already offering to make tea, this could be a much-needed bonding experience. He smiles.

“That would be great, thanks. Can I help?”

His mom Mara has raised him right, he never expects people to just serve him, but Alex is already up and heads over to the small kitchen area. He busies himself with boiling water and placing cookies in a ceramic bowl. He looks over at Michael.

“Sit down and make yourself comfortable. Are you warm enough? I can turn up the heating some more if you’re cold?”

Michael plops down on the comfy chair offered to him and shakes his head.

“Thanks, I’m naturally running hot, I’m good.”

That remark earns him a raised brow from Alex. No kidding, Alex Manes is capable of raising just one brow. It gives his face something almost diabolic for a second, until one corner of his mouth twitches and he smirks.

“You’re running hot, huh? Good to know.”

Michael blushes. He honest to god blushes. Holy shit. Is Alex Manes flirting with him? He’s not sure. Alex is so different from his group of friends and the people he’s worked with in the past. They are usually just taking the shit out of him (and vice versa). With Alex it's all new and unknown terrain.

He’s being pulled out of his thoughts when Alex returns to the table and puts a mug of steaming tea in front of him. And of course, he doesn’t just place it on the wooden table, he’s putting a coaster underneath. Because Alex Manes is a cultivated man who brings his own quilt, scented candles and fucking coasters to a 3-week-shoot in the desert.

Michal is impressed, but also intimidated. His usual crowd is loud and rambunctious, and it suits his outgoing personality perfectly. Alex is only three months older than him, but he almost feels like an insecure kid meeting a man of the world. He shakes off that mental image and waits until Alex is snuggled up under his quilt again before he takes a cookie. It’s chocolate chip, and it tastes divine .

“Holy shit, these are amazing. Where did you get them? I have to buy three boxes.”

Alex chuckles.

“I don’t usually do orders, but I can give you the recipe, they’re quite easy to make.”

Michael is in awe. He loves food more than almost anything in the world, and he knows his way around a stove or oven. He’ll figure out a way to make these cookies.

“Didn’t take you for a baker, but you sure know what you did with these. They are incredible. I’d love the recipe. I’ll send it to my mom. She’ll be so excited.”

He must’ve said the right thing, because Alex’s smile turns warm and genuine for the first time since they’ve met.

“Moms, right?”

Michael couldn’t agree more and nods enthusiastically. He picks up his mug.

“To amazing moms.”

Alex picks up his mug and toasts back.

“To amazing moms.”

They both sip some tea and for a moment the music in the background is the only sound in the trailer. Michael is careful to place his mug on its coaster before he picks up the conversation again.

“Okay, now that we’ve established that we’re both momma’s boys, I hope we can take it from there and get to know each other better and maybe build something for our Alistair and Mikel dynamic. What do you think?”

He’s nervous all of a sudden. Alex is an experienced actor, he’s been doing this professionally for more than a decade. When Michael sees Alex’s face soften, he’s feeling better immediately.

“I think that’s a great idea. There’s this one sentence in the script that shows how close they are, or at least how close they must've been at some point, and I think it would be good to find that closeness somehow. And then we’re going to show the execs what a kiss a decade in the making looks like.”

Michael laughs.

“You won’t believe it, but that’s been my thought process on my way from Jenna’s office to your trailer. I mean, Liz and Max still have the biggest responsibility to convince the higher ups, but in my opinion, Alistair and Mikel are just as important and as much of a selling point.”

Encouraged by Alex nodding in agreement, Michael continues.

"The scene you mentioned, is our springboard, that’s the moment where the audience has to realize that this isn’t just a spur of the moment thing. These two men have history. We may not know about that history yet, but it has to be clear that they know each other. It’s really helpful for me that Jenna wrote that bit about muscle memory into the script. The question is, how do we get to a point where we look like we’ve done this before? Is Jenna going to schedule snogging rehearsals for us?”

Alex bursts out laughing. On the one hand Michael’s delighted that he’s managed to make Alex laugh, on the other hand that he’s worried he’s made a stupid suggestion.

“Uhm, sorry if that was dumb. I’m just a very hands-on guy. I often approach my roles from as much of a physical perspective as I do from the emotional perspective of my character.”

Alex smiles at him.

“You didn’t say anything dumb. It’s a fair question to ask. How do we, two people who’ve only just met, play two men who’ve been in love for a decade? I want this to be every bit of convincing and true to these characters as you. In all honesty, I might have an even bigger interest in it, given that I’m part of the community who will watch this part of the show very closely.”

Michael knows that Alex is gay, in his research he’s found articles and an interview that had been released after Charming Young Deceivers ended. Media and fans alike had been in a frenzy over the coming out, especially after Alex had been part of one of the most beloved straight couples in TV history.

Michael looks at Alex as open and honest as he feels.

“I’m bi myself, so this story means a lot to me, too. I want to do it justice, and I want to do right by a community I know is marginalized in many, many ways. They - we - deserve me giving it my all. And that’s what I want to do. That’s what the script demands. And I think Alistair and Mikel have the potential to be as important and relevant as Liz and Max’s characters. Maybe even more so.”

Michael’s run out of breath at this point, something that barely ever happens, but this is important to him, and he hopes Alex understands what he means. Going by the look on Alex’s face, he does. His eyes seem to glisten, but maybe it’s just a trick of light.

Alex clears his throat and takes another sip from his mug.

“You know, I’ve had the hardest time making the decision whether to take on this role. After seven years on my previous show and coming out after we wrapped, I took a year off. I just needed a break from pretending to be someone I’m not for way too long. The media just always assumed I had to be straight because I played a straight guy on TV. I knew it was risky to come out when the show ended, it could’ve ended my career as well, but I couldn’t live the lie by omission my life had become any longer. I did a lot of soul searching and focused on myself. I was at a point where I didn’t know if I should continue to work in this business, when the accident happened. After that, I didn't know if I could continue to work in this business. I’m sure you know enough about the industry to understand how hard it is as an able-bodied, assumed-straight, assumed white male actor.”

Michael nods, he knows all too well how hard it is. He’s been driving Uber and Lyft for more than a year to make ends meet, and as a talented mechanic, he’d also done the odd car repair job for friends or people recommended to him for extra cash, he’d spent on more acting classes.

Alex puts his mug down and rubs at his eyes with the palms of his hands before he looks at Michael again, his gaze intense.

“Well, after playing a straight white guy for years, people now know that Alex Manes is actually a gay man, who’s half Native American, and also disabled. I’ve worked my way up in LA for years, until my name was one casting people and show execs would recognize. Expectations were always high, but the longer Deceivers went on, the pressure to replicate the success got bigger every year, and the media wanted to be fed with the same narrative over and over again. Especially in regards to my personal life.”

Alex shakes his head, probably thinking about gossip magazine headlines questioning whether his female co-star of seven years and him were banging in real life. Michael shudders in sympathy.

“When the show ended, I just couldn’t continue and pretend to be the guy they wanted to write about. If someone had asked me one more time what my dream girl would have to be like, I can’t guarantee I wouldn’t have committed a murder. And now they know that I’m really not that guy."

Alex points at the script on the table.

“When I got this, I’d more or less made my peace with the idea of never being able to act again, while simultaneously worrying about what to do with my life instead. This role, this story, came at the right time. I read the script and I knew immediately that I wanted to play Alistair. That – to a degree – I am Alistair.”

Alex takes a steadying breath.

“I’m not going to make this about me all the time, don’t worry, but I wanted you to know where I’m coming from, and that there’s the potential that some part of my story will bleed into Alistair’s story. Mentally I’m still a bit ‘all over the place’ right now, I’m more emotional than usual, and I still struggle with the decision of having signed up for a project that could turn into yet another commitment of several years. But I think the show has the potential to be really good. For myself, and for many people like me.”

Michael gets up from his chair and walks over to the recliner. He reaches out to Alex with both arms.

“Man, would it be ok if I offer you a hug? I know I could use a hug right now. It’s ok if you don’t want, of course, but I thought I’d ask?”

Alex looks at him with big eyes, but then he untangles himself from the quilt, gets up and steps into Michael’s open arms. Michael wraps his arms around Alex’s upper body, while Alex’s arms slowly wind around Michael’s mid-section. It’s only awkward for a second, then both men give in and melt into a comforting embrace. They just stand there in the middle of Alex’s trailer for a long time, holding each other, breathing in and out in perfect sync.

They lose track of time, but eventually Alex bends back a little to look at Michael’s face from close up.

“Momma’s boys and suckers for hugs, I have a feeling, things between us are going to be just fine.”

Michael snickers.

“I’m warning you, I’m a cuddle slut. I can fall asleep on people’s shoulders, or I will sloth-hug them from behind when I’m tired. Feel free to tell me no at any time though, I know not everybody’s comfortable with that kind of invasion of their personal space.”

Alex smiles.

“Thanks, I’m trying to listen to my needs more closely. In general, I do enjoy a good hug, but sometimes it can be too much. Boundaries are hard.”

Michael nods.

“Don’t I know it. I mean, I’m not having a hard time to accept or notice other people’s boundaries, it’s more like that I often ignore my own boundaries in an effort to please everyone. Leaves me drained and exhausted, but then life demands that I’m being me again, and I never seem to have enough time and space to recharge.”

They end the hug, but when they sit down again, they do so on the recliner side by side, their knees touching. Michael’s right leg bounces.

“So, after we’ve bonded over some emotional stuff, how do we get to the muscle memory part of our characters’ connection? Kissing boot camp? I’ll admit, although I know I’m bi, I’ve never kissed a dude before. I don’t expect it to be that different from kissing a girl, but I can’t be sure. I’ve looked up your filmography and saw that you did this cool musical film where you played a seemingly gay man. How did you and your co-star approach that thing between your characters?”

Alex laughs.

“Did you see the movie?”

Michael shakes his head.

“I didn’t have the time to watch it, but I saw the trailer, and, uhm, there’s a making of clip of one rather steamy scene on YouTube, I watched that.”

Alex smirks at him.

“Did you now? Interesting. Well, in general we talked with the director of course, how they wanted the scene to go, stuff like that. We did a screen test where we kissed before the shoot. Colton’s also gay, so we both had no trouble with the ‘kissing a dude’ part. But as it is with any kiss on screen, kissing a stranger is never easy.”

Michael nods.

“Okay, that makes sense. Maybe they’re going to do a screen test with us, too? To make sure we’re compatible? Jenna didn’t mention anything, right?”

Alex shakes his head.

“No, she didn’t. I don’t think there will be a screen test. This is just a pilot, and they’re on a tight budget. They’ll expect us to knock it out of the park as soon as the cameras roll.”

Michael swallows around a lump in his throat that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Good, that’s cool. I mean, looking at you, it’s not exactly a hardship to imagine how great it must be to kiss you. I’ll do my best to make it not awkward.”

Alex smiles at him, but the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. He’s careful with his next words.

“If it makes you feel better, we can do a screen test without cameras? Figure out how to embrace without colliding? I mean, we don’t have to kiss, obviously, if it makes you uncomfortable or you think it’s not necessary. But we could work out some kind of choreography and develop the ‘muscle memory’ for the kissing scene?”

Alex doesn’t look straight at Michael when he makes his proposal, only when he ends, his eyes are back on Michael with full focus. Michael feels like he’s blushing furiously, although he really hopes that isn’t the case.

“Uhm, okay, that’s a great idea actually. A choreography. I like that. I’d rather not knock you unconscious with my thick skull just because we both go for the same side.”

Alex laughs and stands up again. He holds his hand out to Michael.

“Come on then, let’s try.”

Michael takes Alex’s hand and lets himself get pulled up into a standing position. Alex doesn’t release his hand, so Michael follows him to the middle of the trailer where they have enough space to move around without bumping into furniture. Alex takes one more step until they stand opposite from each other.

“Is there anything off limits with what you’re comfortable with? Like, do I have to know about any particularly ticklish spots, is it ok to touch your hair? That kind of stuff.”

Michael thinks about it for a second, then he shakes his head.

“I can’t think of anything. How about you?”

Alex shakes his head.

“I’m pretty ticklish, but I don’t think you’re going to tickle me. Should we just act out the scene like it’s in the script and see how it goes?”

Michael nods. He picks up his script from where he’d placed it on the table earlier and quickly reads through the instructions for the scene’s set-up.

“Okay, why don’t you take the chair from over there, and I enter from the kitchen area?”

Alex nods in agreement. He pulls out the chair from under the desk and props up his right leg on the seat. He pulls up the leg of is sweatpants and pretends to adjust something on his prosthesis.

Michael’s stepped back into the kitchen area and looks at Alex. His hair is tousled and he looks warm and slightly flushed. For a moment, Michael glances at the metal of Alex’s leg reflecting the light, but then he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He’s Mikel Rath now. An alien who’s lived in this town for ten years while the love of his life went to war. They are not on good terms, but there’s still love.

A love that’s been tested over and over again, but never went away. Michael opens his eyes and looks at Alex. Alex, who’s Alistair Jessup now, a decorated war veteran. Not the same person Mikel fell in love with a decade ago. Not a boy anymore. Alistair is a man now. But the love, oh the love, it's burning just as bright as the first day he’d laid eyes on him.

Mikel takes a step forward into the room, as per description “belt buckle first”.

"𝙽𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚒𝚊’𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑, 𝚑𝚞𝚑."

Alistair adjusts the leg of his pants and puts his foot back on the ground. He looks at Mikel, his eyes dark and questioning. He sighs.

"𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙸𝚛𝚊𝚚, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎."

Mikel feels embarrassed all of a sudden. Alistair is right, it’s been ten years and he’s still stuck in the same place, wasting his life, just like Alistair said earlier. But then Alistair doesn’t know why he never left, what kept him in their hometown, or rather who. Mikel is tired, and his shoulders drop. He sounds resigned.

"𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝? 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘?"

Alistair shakes his head, he also looks tired, his eyes are hollow.

"𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛."

The ‘what I want never mattered’ is hanging like an unspoken truth between them. Mikel takes a step forward, his eyes on Alistair. Alistair in return, takes one step in Mikel’s direction. They are close now. Very close. They look at each other, their eyes telling an entire story while they remain quiet.

When they both start moving at the same time, there’s no need to figure out a choreography. Mikel’s arms reach for Alistair’s head, his fingers slotting around his neck just so, while Alistair’s hands go underneath Mikel’s arms and wrap around Mikel’s torso. They both pull the other in until there’s no space left between them. Mikel takes another breath before he closes the last inch of distance between them and their lips meet in a searing kiss.

They are swaying back and forth, their lips pressing firmly against each other. They are Alistair and Mikel for a long moment, until Mikel Rath slowly turns back into Michael Guerin and Alistair fades back into Alex Manes, and now it’s them kissing all of a sudden, and no longer the characters they are supposed to play.

Michael doesn’t know how to stop. He doesn’t want to. He’s holding onto Alex’s face and looks at him like he’s searching for something. When he sees what he’s been hoping to find, he closes his eyes and lets his lips go soft, his mouth turning into a pliant invitation

When he feels Alex’s tongue nudging at his lower lip, he opens his mouth and lets him in.

#malex fic #malex #alex manes #michael guerin #roswell new mexico #my fic #rnm 1x01 #rnm fic

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jeanvaljean24601 · 4 years

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Teen Mom: Ranking the Most Insane Feuds of All Time!

From on-camera brawls to social media feuds and legal threats, the cast of Teen Mom and Teen Mom 2 sure know how to go hard. Moments that made you cringe 'cause they were so painful, or smile ear-to-ear. Scenes that were fights, or made you fight back tears.

The franchise really does have it all, and as such, it's become one of the most entertaining in the history of the reality TV genre.

Below, we look back at some of the MTV gang's most explosive feuds, and however you might rank them, this much is undeniable: Way back then. Not so way back then. Last year. Last month. Last week. Probably right now. There is no shortage of beef.

NOTE: We’ve saved the craziest for last, so we suggest that you a deep breath, sit back, grab a hat and hold the f--k onto it …

When Briana DeJesus joined the Teen Mom 2 cast in 2017, she was not welcomed with open arms. In fact, she quickly became persona non grata at her first get-together with the cast - with one exception. Jenelle Evans, Briana said, “is the only one who was acting like her s--t ain’t stink. Plus she was the only one who wasn’t acting fake and choosing sides.” Leah Messer’s response was to “pay no attention to those who try to bring you down … they’re just envious of where you are and how well you’re doing.” As we'll get to in a bit, relations haven't exactly gotten more amicable since.

Maci Bookout and Taylor McKinney's relationship has produced three kids, and they seem very happily married ... most of the time. Like, 85 percent of the time. Bookout alarmed fans with the confession a few years ago that revealed some trouble in paradise: “Eighty-five percent of the time we’re good to go … Fifteen percent is hell. All of our stress and emotions, we take out on each other. When the cameras leave, we’ll drink and freak out. It’s always literally the smallest things. It’s such small stuff but it blows up. It’s not going to go away.” Yikes ... but at least they've had plenty of time to work on things?

So Jenelle has this weird thing about Chelsea -- she accused her of copying her because she made a website for herself after she'd already made her own, because making a website is something totally special and unique. She also kind of accused Chelsea of copying her when she gave birth to Watson the day after Jenelle gave birth to Ensley, which is just wild. On another occasion, Jenelle went off about Chelsea ignoring her older daughter, Aubree, after having Watson, insinuating that she's a bad mother. Chelsea liked a tweet from someone who called Jenelle "pathetic" for bringing up Aubree, which is pretty much the most she's ever participated in this feud.

This one is pretty weird -- one time Babs "jokingly" threatening to "kill Kail" during an Instagram Live session with Jenelle. Lowry was understandably not amused and threatened to quit the show over Barbara's threats. That didn't happen, of course, and it's no longer an issue since Jenelle and her family are no longer on the show, but how bizarre, right?

Brooke Wehr was never a Teen Mom 2 cast member, but due to her mercurial relationship with Jeremy Calvert, her impact was felt just the same. A few years ago, the couple's engagement ended after Brooke accused Jeremy of cheating on her with multiple women, one being a Teen Mom 2 producer, another being her best friend, and a third possibly being his ex-wife Leah Messer. Brooke even shared a screen shot of a text message conversation between Jeremy and the best friend as proof, while Calvert responded in a drunken stupor that yes, maybe he did sleep with Brooke's best friend, but ... only because Wehr slept with some other guy first. Or, as he put it, Brooke was "f-cking his brains out, every day," and he was single, so "my dick was happy to do whatever the f-ck it wanted to do, and it did." Shocking that these two didn't work out ... but neither party was completely off base with their allegations. Just saying. Jeremy and Leah did hook up.

Briana hooked up with Luis in a bathroom while she was drunk, and she got pregnant. They tried to make a relationship work, but he cheated on her and was generally just not great. He's never really been around for their daughter, Stella, but he did come back around last year for a bit. Briana even decided to give him another shot -- except this time, she got the clap. So yeah, they're not on the best terms.

Devoin is the father of Briana's first child, Nova, and they haven't gotten along for many, many years. Briana says that Devoin is a deadbeat dad, Devoin says that Briana won't let him be an active father, it's this whole thing. However, things got especially bad last summer when Briana let him take Nova for an overnight visit and he ended up getting drunk while he was with her alone at a pool. More recently, she criticized him for not giving her any money to help with Nova.

This feud has been going on for years, but has taken on many new forms due to ever-changing circumstances and new tensions. The main point of contention for awhile was Javi's relationship with Briana DeJesus, who came on board the cast of Teen Mom 2 in 2017 amid a lot of controversy. Bri and Kail are bitter rivals (more on that later), so it's not surprising that Ms. Lowry would take issue with DeJesus hooking up with her ex ... or proposing to her. Kail was so salty over Javi's new relationship that she even canceled plans to collaborate on a pair of memoirs with Marroquin. android tv boxThese days, the two of them seem to be doing OK for the most part, but of course that could change at any moment.

Jenelle and Leah used to be friendly, but then things changed -- possibly because Leah became so close with Jenelle's mortal enemy, Kailyn Lowry. Jenelle has thrown plenty of jabs at Leah on social media, like the time she claimed CPS removed the twins from Leah's care and that there were more shocking details about all that that no one knows about. She's also criticized Leah for allowing her daughter to wear makeup and short skirts for cheerleading. As for Leah, she doesn't really seem to pay too much attention to anything Jenelle's ever said about her, although she did speak out after David killed Nugget, Jenelle's dog.

There was a time when Jenelle and Farrah were friends, but no more -- to be honest, both ladies seem to have trouble maintaining friendships with anyone. Jenelle has made remarks about Farrah's plastic surgery and her adult entertainment ventures, and Farrah has called Jenelle out on her bad parenting and her horrific taste in men. After Jenelle left David last year, Farrah offered her support, then ultimately decided to block her on social media because it's none of her business.

Jenelle didn't like Cheyenne from the moment MTV announced she was joining the cast of Teen Mom OG because of some tweets she'd made about white people several years ago. But the feud really started last year when Jenelle made a comment about Amber Portwood's assault charges -- Cheyenne tweeted that Jenelle "should be the last person throwing shade." Jenelle told her that she had no clue what she was talking about, then Cheyenne hit back with "Coming from the real racist, dog killer, abuser and honestly the most unstable individual I’ve witnessed.. GREAT STATEMENT.. get custody of ALL your kids and stay out of court before you talk about me." Jenelle tried to come back from that by calling her a "replacement," but Cheyenne said "And you're fired... soooo?" Beautiful.

Mackenzie has often criticized the network that made her a D-list star -- she once blasted both MTV itself and Teen Mom viewers who have been critical of her relationship with Ryan, particularly her decision to let him drive to their wedding while he was so high that he lost consciousness behind the wheel. "It’s easy to show the ‘half truth’ and portray it as a whole," Mackenzie wrote in a lengthy social media tirade. "But that’s ok because regardless of what happens, whether right or wrong, you’re considered scum.” She's also accused MTV of making her and her husband look bad with editing, but we'd argue that Ryan has always made himself look bad just because of who he is as a person. android tv box

Jenelle Evans' relationship with David Eason has been suspect from the start, even to members of their inner circle - and their own families. One of the loudest voices of disapproval of Jenelle is David Eason's sister. Her complaints were nothing new - Jenelle's a bad mom, a violent criminal, a drug addict, etc. But just because Jenelle's heard these criticisms before, that doesn't mean she took them lying down. In a public Facebook exchange that was at once amusing and horrifying, Jenelle tore into Jessica Eason Miller, accusing her of child abuse and hard drug addiction. Jess shot back by accusing Jenelle of going to great lengths to keep her numerous abortions a secret. Needless to say, these sisters-in-law won't be meeting up for cosmos anytime soon.

Following a slew of gossip stories shared by her co-stars a few years ago that she deemed unflattering, the Carolina Hurricane unleased her legal fury ... to widespread mockery. Jenelle sent cease-and-desist letters to a number of her co-stars, including Leah Messer, Chelsea Houska, and Chelsea's father, Randy Houska. She also took legal action against peripheral friends such as Ryan Dolph, and even her own mother, Barbara Evans. It's yet another reminder that Jenelle is not someone you want to mess with. Not because there's any legal merit to what she was alleging, but just because she's certifiably bonkers and when you kick a hornets' nest of that size, you open yourself up to all kinds of mayhem, bedlam and chaos.

Farrah hasn't gotten along with her former co-stars for years, but on one memorable occasion, she hopped on Instagram to allege that Lowell is a closeted pothead and Baltierra is secretly gay. Yes, for real. Catelynn was unable to defend herself as she was in rehab at the time being treated for various emotional issues; Tyler simply dismissed Farrah's claims as the ravings of seriously unstable woman. Probably the best way to conduct one's self in that situation, but they don't always brush it off. Tyler later stirred the pot once more when he said MTV was right to fire Farrah for her porn career, to which Abraham responded with an iconic word salad in the third person. android tv box

Catelynn has also attacked Farrah over the years - who could forget when she called her fellow Teen Mom a "hoe bag," or when she pretended not to know who Farrah was and instead started talking about Farrah Fawcett? What about the time that she charged out during Farrah's reunion fight with Amber yelling "TRASHY BITCH"? And then there was the time that Catelynn posted this just before Farrah's canceled boxing match with Hoopz. Stay classy, everyone!

This was a feud no one saw coming. Apparently Ryan was active on the dating app Tinder, despite the fact that he's, ya know ... married. When Mackenzie found out about this RIGHT AFTER they tied the knot, she was understandably not pleased. Catching your husband swiping and chatting with other chicks after you married him days earlier? Insane. But, instead of taking out her frustrations on Edwards himself, she decided to let loose on a random girl he was chatting with online. Edwards' Tinder Girl was the undisputed victor in this one, destroying Mackenzie's argument simply by stating, “Your husband is the one on Tinder.” Enough said, really. Incredibly, they stayed married, Mackenzie got pregnant ... TWICE. To quote the legendary Kieffer Delp, "You know how choices be."

Jeremy has never been a fan of David and Jenelle -- he spoke out against the homophobic remarks that got David fired, and he got into a spat with Jenelle after she was shown pulling a gun on that guy (he called her a "dumb bitch" in case you forgot). Later, David commented on a photo that Jeremy shared to tell him that he looked "like a bitch," and Jeremy went off on him in a long rant that concluded with "keep f-cking with me and I'll fly my ass to nc and I'll show u what kind of bitch I am pretty boy." So yeah, they don't like each other.

Where do you even start with these three? Ryan and Maci have experienced their share of rough patches over the years as they've struggled to peaceably co-parent their son, Bentley, but in the past, they've always been able to sort out their differences eventually. But then Ryan started doing heroin and brought Mackenzie into the picture, and that's not really the case anymore. Maci thinks that Mackenzie enables Ryan, Mackenzie thinks that Maci stresses Ryan out -- it's a mess. The two ladies have said plenty of nasty things about each other over the years, while Ryan went in and out of jail and rehab. Like we said, it's a mess. Poor Bentley.

Farrah has said a lot of things about the network that made her famous, like that time that she bizarrely claimed that MTV forces stars of the Teen Mom franchise to continue having children, even when they'd prefer not to. Abraham also accused the producers of encouraging Amber Portwood to attack her during their reunion show melee (more on that later), and even claimed she was fired from the network for partaking in "adult" pursuits on the side. Even more amazingly than the fact that she threw around the term "hate crimes" to describe how MTV treated her? The apparent fact that the folks who made her famous are actually willing to continue working with Farrah. Or were, until she finally got fired or quit, depending who you believe. With Farrah, every day is another day in the Post-Truth Era.

Where do we even begin with this. In late summer 2019, a 911 call was placed from Javi's home, following a dispute there. No charges were filed, but the truth came out. You see, Javi had recently gotten engaged to Lauren, with whom he welcomed his second son. Not long after that, he got busted cheating on her, banging one of the members of his CrossFit gym ... IN HIS BATHROOM while Lauren was asleep (or so he thought) IN THEIR HOME. As if that weren't crazy enough, he then called Kailyn to mediate; Kail later put him on blast, claiming he'd been cheating on Lauren back when she was pregnant and chastising him for wanting her to "clean up their mess." Don't worry, Javi posted a cheesy apology on Instagram, for everyone to see, and it was all good with Lauren after like 12 minutes.

There's always been some seriously bad blood between Farrah and Debra -- remember that time that she hit her in the early days of Teen Mom OG? Deb forced Farrah to become a mother when she insisted she wasn't ready, she didn't support her after Sophia's father passed away, and she was just generally awful towards her. Things got so bad between them that at one point, Farrah said that she'd wished that her mother would "just f-cking die already." They've been estranged for a long time now, although Farrah does sometimes allow Deb to see Sophia.

Jenelle Evans and her mother, Barbara, have always had a tumultuous relationship, with Babs unafraid to dish it out as much as she's forced to take it. In previous years, they would fight a lot and trade zingers (such as this classic image), then eventually put it behind them. For a good long while, Jenelle and Babs were at each other's throats more often than not, and the stakes couldn't have been higher. Barbara now has permanent custody of Jenelle's oldest son, Jace, and Jenelle has mostly come to terms with it. Thankfully, they're not fighting so much these days -- yep, they're actually managing to get along. For the moment, anyway.

Things neared a boiling point between Amber Portwood and Matt Baier after he vowed that would never marry her ... because she wouldn’t marry him on the spot in Las Vegas, obviously. “I will not marry her,” he said. “I will not marry her now, ever! I’m not gonna let her [brother] dictate my life. That f—king f—got. She wants to marry her brother. That’s who she wants to marry. F—k her. She just humiliated me on TV. I’m done!” Matt, who was livid at Amber’s reasoning for not eloping in Vegas - her brother Shawn not being present - went on to tell a producer, “I don’t care who you have to give oral pleasure to, keep the Amber and Matt wedding thing off [the air]. She just embarrassed me in front of 12 million people.” We’re pretty sure you did that to yourself, Matt …

As if it wasn't bad enough that Matt Baier offered Catelynn Lowell a Xanax before a press event, casting serious doubt over whether or not he remains drug-free, he ultimately took a lie detector test to prove his faithfulness to Amber Portwood ... and failed. The polygraph revealed that Matt made sexual advances toward other women during his relationship with the Teen Mom star, and that was it for her. "Trash! TRASH! I got you money. I got you deals! And you tried to f--k her! F--K YOU!" Their breakup, which was a long time coming, was not undone despite a stint on Marriage Boot Camp ... though she did meet crew member Andrew Glennon while on the set and went on to have his baby. Matt also got married (seriously) to Jen Conlon. Funny how life works out. h96 max tv box

Perhaps the longest-running feud of the franchise, Chelsea Houska and Adam Lind face off mostly through their lawyers these days, because the derelict of society can't stay out of trouble or pay child support. In recent years, he's failed drug tests with meth in his system, and he's also been arrested more than once for domestic violence. Because of all of that, he's only allowed to see his daughter with Chelsea at a visitation center (which he rarely seems to do), and he gave up his parental rights completely for his other daughter, Paislee.

Amber and Jenelle have never interacted all that much since they were on different shows, but still, Amber felt the need to speak out after one of David's many abuse scandals -- she ranted about it on Instagram, calling him names like "bitch" and "disgusting clown." Jenelle told her to leave her family alone, and she also said "You’re the one who went to jail for domestic violence but you’re sitting here pointing fingers at my husband?" Amber then threatened to beat her up, because of course she did. Their feud was reignited months later when Jenelle started saying that it was unfair that she got fired when Amber got to keep her spot on the show. Amber never responded, but a source did report that “She doesn’t feel the need to get into a feud with Jenelle with everything going on in the world right now."

This feud has been going on for a long, long time, and it started back in the day when Jenelle needed Kailyn to post bail for her, but then she never paid her back. These two have traded insults over the years, and Jenelle was actually low enough to leak the news of Kail's pregnancy with Lux. Since then, they've been making snide remarks about each other on social media, with David even joining in to insult her about things like her weight and her sexuality. Most recently, Jenelle took a break from her newfound body positivity to call Kail "a giant compared to me," and Kailyn hit back by saying that at least she has custody of all of her children. Classic stuff there.

Nathan and Jenelle were terrible together, and things didn't change after they broke up. The big issue was that she didn't waste any time in getting with David, and David has always hated Nathan. Like, a lot. The feeling became mutual after a while, and Nathan started claiming that Kaiser had told him that David was abusive. Nathan once even tweeted photos of some suspicious bruises on Kaiser that he said were from David hitting him with a stick, but Jenelle turned it around, suggesting that Nathan was the abusive one. Nathan has been talking about getting custody of Kaiser for a while now, but of course he has his own issues on top of everything else.

Amber Portwood and Farrah Abraham’s iconic beef may never be topped, at least in terms of how it came to a head on an MTV reunion special with the cameras rolling. It was pretty standard - or at least it was until Farrah said that Amber's then-boyfriend, Matt Baier, looks like a pedophile. With Farrah and her then-boyfriend, Simon Saran, just trolling Matt incessantly, Portwood hit her breaking point off camera. She stormed the stage, trying to fight Farrah, hurling insult after insult at her rival, and even throwing a punch that missed. Baier and Farrah's father, Michael, then got into it physically, forcing security to break it up. Crew members stormed the stage to pull Amber away from Farrah and it was all a mess. An epic, chaotic and glorious mess. h96 tv box

The bad blood from their epic reunion fight lingered long after the dust settled and only worsened in the years since.. Farrah said Gary Shirley should have full custody of Amber’s daughter, and that Amber needs to stop "using me to get attention … I want nothing to do with [her] criminal behavior or lying evil groups of people [she associates] with.” Fast forward to 2019, in the wake of Amber's arrest for assaulting Andrew Glennon (below), Farrah said again: "I do not speak to others who are very vulgar and abusive. I haven’t spoken to her. I feel that children, adults, family members, everyone associated should be treated with care, love. And that’s where the society and the world is going. I really hope that, not only Amber, but I hope Catelynn, I hope Maci… gets some help. They seriously need it." Vintage Farrah word salad.

This feud never really stops, but boy does it take more twists and turns than we can even count. Most notably, Javi started dating Briana, and even proposed to her in 2018, resulting in a lot of bitter feelings from Kailyn. THEN, he broke up with Briana and started dating Lauren Comeau ... who quickly became pregnant with his child, prompting more feelings from both Kailyn and Briana. THEN Kailyn revealed that after his split from Briana, but prior to him impregnating Lauren, Javi tried to bang Kailyn repeatedly. After that, it came out that Javi was actually juggling all three women at the same time. Who has the energy?

One of the best, for obvious reasons. As we mentioned, Bri's was dating Kailyn's ex-husband, Javi Marroquin, a move that effectively drove a dagger into the heart of their friendship - whatever that consisted of. They had a very heated argument at one reunion, and at the next, they wanted to physically fight each other. First, Kail invited Briana for a private chat in a room backstage, but Briana left before things could get bad. Later, when it was time for all the girls to to onstage together, Briana tried to attack Kailyn, but security guards were able to keep them away from each other. They don't do reunions together anymore, but they do get sassy about each other on social media!

There's a lot here, so let's just breeze through, all right? Kailyn met Chris at college, she slept with him when she was still married to Javi, and he ended up impregnating her when the marriage was over. He was never around throughout the pregnancy, and she even said he had another girlfriend, though he did show up for the birth and for a little while after. Kail has said that things went bad a few months later, and she's even claimed that he broke into her house and broke a window in her bedroom at that time. Still, she had a big thing for them, and they hooked up every now and then. Eventually, he got her pregnant again, and she soon got an order of protection against him. Right now, she's nearing the end of that pregnancy, and things don't seem to be much better with Chris.

Nothing funny about this one. On July 5, 2019, Portwood was arrested and charged with two counts of domestic battery and one count of criminal recklessness with a deadly weapon after she struck her boyfriend, Andrew Glennon, in the neck as Glennon held their son James in his arms. She then threatened to commit suicide by overdosing on pills, and used a machete to attempt and break into the room where Glennon was hiding with their son. She was convicted on felony charges of domestic battery and intimdation, and she's currently on probation. Later, audio recordings were released in which Amber could be heard verbally abusing Andrew, and in one she even admitted to punching him in the face. There's no contact between them now, and Amber has been allowed visits with their son. h96 tv box

Where do we even begin? Jenelle and David have always gotten in awful fights, and they've only gotten worse as time has gone on. In the beginning, they argued a lot, but a couple of years ago, she called 911 in hysterics, claiming he pushed her down so hard she thought he'd broken her collarbone. She called again a few months later because she'd locked him outside and he was beating the door down. Last year, she left him for a while after he killed her dog, which resulted in them losing temporary custody of the kids, and she even got a restraining order against him after telling a judge she feared for her life. She went back to him, but things definitely haven't been good -- she recently left him again and threatened to get a restraining order. She didn't, and we guess things are supposed to be OK right now, but it's only a matter of time until things get bad again.

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salvatoreschool · 5 years

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5 Reasons You Should Be Watching Legacies

October is, just objectively, the best month of the year. Exhibit A: Golden autumn leaves. Exhibit B: All things apple. Exhibit C: This gif. Exhibit D: Witches. Like, it’s just science.

Around these parts, though, the best best thing about October is, of course, the television. Yes, I’m talking spooky, kooky Halloween specials—love a good Halloween special—but also I’m talking fall premieres. Specifically, I’m talking The CW’s fall premieres, which have been landing in mid-October (later than most other broadcast networks) since at least the first season of Arrow.

This fall, the teen-skewing network’s biggest draws are, arguably, the series debuts of Batwoman (October 6th) and Nancy Drew (October 9th), and the final season bows of Arrow (October 15th) and Supernatural (October 10th). But while I’m professionally interested in seeing how all those premieres play out, the CW joint I’m most personally invested in getting back on my screen (also October 10th!) is Julie Plec’s supernatural boarding school double-spin-off teen drama series, Legacies.

Friends—you should be watching Legacies. I know there’s a lot of television out there, but really and truly, if you like television that likes being television (more on that in a minute), Legacies is absolutely worth tuning in to. Why? Well, let me just count the reasons:

1. You don’t have to do any television homework to join the fun.

Yes, TECHNICALLY Legacies is a hybrid spin-off of two different long-running Julie Plec series, The Vampire Diaries (eight seasons) and The Originals (five), and sure, technically it was in those series that the mythology driving the character arcs/motivations of Legacies’ most central leads, Hope Mikaelson (Danielle Rose Russell) and Alaric Saltzman (Matthew Davis), was developed. After spending a cumulative thirteen seasons not just telling stories on television, but telling stories on television from this specific world, Plec’s ability to set efficient narrative groundwork under fast-moving vampire feet is nothing if not masterful. Genuinely, aside from a few single-episode cameos of side characters from Hope and Alaric’s TVD/Originals past, the only thing you need to watch to make sense of Legacies is this official promo for the first season:

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…and honestly, most of that soliloquy, plus much more, is folded into the cold open of the series premiere, “This is the Part Where You Run,” which uses new lead Landon Kirby (Aria Shahghasemi) as audience avatar as he gets introduced to this particular supernatural world for the first time.

2. Two words: Julie. Plec.

That said, if you are familiar with Legacies’ double, er, legacy, you’ll get a kick out of how precisely Plec has taken her signature whip-fast storytelling and fitted it to a breezier, more “teen” setting, and how deftly she manages to weave in both key characters and core emotional beats from both her previous series.

The most obvious example of all of this is Matthew Davis’ Alaric Saltzman, who became such a fan favorite during his time as vengeful-vampire-hunter-turned-loyal-teen-vampire guardian-turned-rogue-vampire’s-best-friend on The Vampire Diaries that not only did Plec resurrect him from the (very truly) dead to keep Damon Salvatore (Ian Somerhalder) on the straight and narrow, but she then brought him on as co-lead of this series to do the same for every supernatural teen in the contiguous United States. Now, as both father to a pair of Gemini twin witches (Kaylee Bryant and Jenny Boyd) and mentor/father-figure to Hope, the teen witch-vampire-werewolf tribrid with a hero complex, Alaric gets to flex all the emotional muscles TVD fans know and love. Plus, as the Salvatore School’s headmaster, he also gets to take charge of the dramatic supernatural research and heroic (and/or chaotic) supernatural missions that are key to a Plec series’ fast-paced success. Beyond all of that, though, in positioning him as the central human adult foil to a whole pile of supernatural teen protagonists, Plec has also found a way to let him be funny, bringing a uniquely fun dynamic to the fast-moving monster drama of the TVD universe that hasn’t always gotten such pride of place.

In other words: Julie Plec, still running wild supernatural stories turned up way past 11.

3. Three words: Supernatural. Boarding. School.

One more time, in case that didn’t sink it: Supernatural. Boarding. School.

I really shouldn’t have to elaborate on this, but Legacies is set at the Salvatore Boarding School for the Young and Gifted, which is the school for young witches, werewolves, vampires, and Hope that was funded by Hope’s (dead) dad and is located at/on the Salvatore family’s Virginia estate, just outside Mystic Falls. All the moody opulence of Damon and Stefan’s TVD homebase, all the zingy, angsty tropes of great Teen TV.

More than just being a fun setting, though, the Salvatore School gives Legacies a chance to sprawl out and complicate the consequences of being a teenager consigned to eternity as part of the supernatural world. These consequences are still very real and very serious in Legacies, but while The Vampire Diaries mined dramatic tension from supernatural teens (or at least vampires who looked superficially like teens) living in dangerous proximity to human teens, its kid sibling series looks inside for its tension. The teens at the story’s core need, first and foremost, to find a way to come to terms with their own inhumanity, and what it means to be good as they define it. And honestly, after so many years of TVD stories focused on the former, spending time with a bunch of super compelling, super different supernatural kids working through the latter is just a treat.

4. A diverse cast and diverse stories

This leads directly into a key update to the TVD legacy: With such a sprawling cast of teen characters brought to the Salvatore School from all walks of life and corners of the country, Legacies gets to improve on one of the original series’ greatest weaknesses: A lack of diversity. While both Alaric and the three central female characters of Legacies—all carried over from the previous series—are still white, the characters that round out the rest of the new series’ core cast are not. On the adult side, Alaric is joined by faculty members Dorian Williams (Demetrius Bridges) and Emma Tig (Karen David), while on the teen side, Hope, Josie and Lizzie are joined by softie vampire MG (Quincy Fouse), activist vampire Kaleb (Chris Lee), reluctant alpha werewolf Rafael (Peyton “Alex” Smith), ex-alpha werewolf Jed (Ben Levin), bad girl with Penelope (Lulu Antariksa), and the audience avatar/mystery box supernatural mentioned above, Landon Kirby (Aria Shahghasemi). Nor is racial diversity the only benchmark hit with this large cast. In terms of queer representation, Josie is bi, with Penelope her ex/possible future girlfriend; in terms of class representation, Rafael and Landon are foster brothers who both have dark histories with the system.

Importantly, none of these measures of diversity are included just for show. Each character’s identity and background are as key to who they are within the heightened emotional context of the boarding school as their individual supernatural abilities. Kaleb’s experience as a young black man (and vampire) is markedly different from MG’s, which is markedly different from Dorian’s (who, to be fair, is also not a vampire). Josie and Penelope’s relationship is informed by their strengths (and weaknesses) as witches, and further informs how they each approach solving problems both social and magical. Landon and Rafael’s history, as thrown away kids whose only shelter was each other, drives every decision they make. That diverse identities should inform characters in these ways isn’t a surprise; that Legacies is embracing them all now after so many seasons of its parent series falling short is, if not surprising, then at least worth taking note of.

5. Finally: Legacies totally knows it’s a TV show.

This seems self-evident, but as pop culture critic Grace Robertson so sharply observed earlier this year in her essay “Let TV Be TV” (like, literally; the heading above is a direct quote), the best trick Legacies pulls isn’t even a trick. It’s just being good at being entertaining, episodic television.

In an era where a TV show can be anything from thirteen thirty-minute episodes (pick literally any prestige comedy) to dozens upon dozens of bite-sized Facebook posts (SKAM Austin) to an 18-hour art film (Twin Peaks: The Return), defining just what counts as television is practically a professional sport. Well, it’s a sport Legacies isn’t interested in playing. With both its new-to-the-TVD-verse Monster of the Week mode of storytelling and the Salvatore School as its comfortable, “fixed point” setting, Plec is even better at framing episodic stories than she was in her already rollicking previous series. In a television landscape so full of cinematic innovation, the freedom this old school “status quo” television model gives Legacies is, as Robertson notes, a huge relief.

So, yes: Legacies knows it’s a TV show, and it knows it’s a fun one. With the short first season currently streaming on Netflix, there is literally no better time to jump on the Legacies bandwagon than now. And I know it’s one I can’t wait to have back in my weekly rotation. All hail October.

Legacies Season Two premieres Thursday, October 10th on The CW.

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hwz1bwxf-blog · 5 years

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good student discount $ ???? what would cheapest car insurance for homeowner s insurance work? Is to other suggestions. Any I have International Driver and prescriptions. Ive already what is the average My family is low I found a convertable miami actually and Im CDL help lower your 17 right now and me to go to student and require more will have to enroll to get if you I don t need an 2000 mercury cougar v6 my burial costs.. isn t insurance would be. 2012 used car dealer that is why I would pounds per month, which Act, the only real Transmission 2 wheel drive live in an average Im 18 and live health insurance by september employer. My family is anything including the engine.) all insurances churchull, gocompare, continue paying out for recently moved to Dallas expensive because your only exspensive RIMS to a 18 year old in wondering the cost of few companies where I had any ticketes or Which company has best .

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hotdadlicense · 6 years

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ahh for my dearest zhenya @fapfapfashion lover! heres that bfu post i said id make for you like monnnnnths ago i PROMISE i never forgot! just :(:( life. but anyway this was FUN i love youuuu! disclaimer: im not rly in the fandom this is all stuff i see through like just some friends reblogging stuff every now and again and whenever i go to the tag to find stuff sometimes but ANWAY I HOPE its semi coherent <3<3<3 love YOU.

OKAY I FEEL LIKE i said YEH ILL MAKE YOU A MASTERPOST FUCK YEAH but now im like hmmm making a buzzfeed unsolved masterpost is.......not that much cos its like? all there on their youtube channels like its not like music or stuff where theres yknow albums! singles! unreleased songs! special live performances! music videos! documentaries! band info! like its all over on buzzfeed multiplayer youtube and buzzfeed unsolved network youtube but whatever i can ramble about dumb shit and link some stuff so ayeee.

heres the links to the actual videos:

SUPERNATURAL

+ season one // two // three // four // five

+ supernatural: postmortem

TRUE CRIME

season one // two // three // four

+ true crime: postmortem

all eps in order (including postmortem)

personal favs

a vid that bab @chantillystars linked me and i watch it every time im feelin not fresh so i can smile

someone elses better done video round up master post! op ur incredible

now under the cut cos i realy did ramble :(

okay so THE HOSTS!

RYAN BERGARA (insta//twitter)

the fucking creator and inventer of bfu its his baby and im so proud of him and how far its come <3

when the season finale of the latest supernatural premiered it trended at number 1 over the fucking new lion king trailer and he got emo on twitter and insta about it and i cried a lil bit

fucking loves sports basketball or whatever themeparks popcorn and paddington bear

not scared enough of ghosts to not sleep in a haunted house but is scared enough that he absolutely will scream the whole entire time that he is in said haunted house

first ghost encounter was on the queen mary when he was a teenager. the ghost knocked his toothpaste of the shelf and he freaked. and now he has shat his pants at every bump in the night since. icon!

works his ass for to produce mass amounts of content for us like its fucking insane? all up there are like 9 seasons of bfu plus post-mortems and its only been going since 2014?? plus everything else hes got happening??

rly sweet and funny but like in a frat boi kinda way but like. a frat boi you could trust?

SHANE MADEJ (insta//twitter)

wasnt actually the original cohost!

(BRENT was the orignal host but had to beg out a couple episodes in cos he was juggling too many commitments so which fair!)

ryan and shane were desk partners and longtime buzzfeed pals that ? if i remember correctly? interned together back when they first started?

ryan turned to shane one day and was like ‘yo, wanna cohost this show with me?’ and shane was like 'sure.’ and honestly trying to picture it now without shane?? okay ryan and shane just bounce off each other so well theyre like a dream team. god bless them being desk buddies and work pals.

shanes a freak

does not believe in ghosts spirits orbs and all things that go bump in the night like he seems to genuinely want to but like. science and his big ass brain wont let him.

very smart! can rly work a patterned floral shirt! or plaid! kinda gives a dad vibe in glasses but then he talks and its like okay please never supervise a child!

v into history! so much so that he has his own lil show on buzzfeed aka:

RUINING HISTORY

stars him along with ryan and sara (his beautiful and smart and talented gf who also works at buzzfeed <3) with some other ever changing cohosts

hes also responsible for The Hot Dog Saga aka THE HOTDAGA and i know there are people that adore it but! in their own words! id rather walk into the sea.

ryan, too, hates the hotdaga and i feel like this was? about the hotdaga after shane sung something fuck if i remmebr

RYAN + SHANE

these gifs are from the ?second ep? i saw of them honestly it rly sums up the ryan/shane dynamic i guess

but like. the way ryan looks and laughs whenever shane says something mildly funny? hearteyes mutherfucker

above when i said shanes a freak? yeah.

ryan letting shane live as long as he has? true friendship

whenever theyre at the lil desk in their lil basement talking cases shane just talks shit and ryan just lets him and i fucking love them

the LAST FRAME

oh one time they lucked out with a hotel that had a jacuzzi tub <3

yknow what? this was actually kinda sweet. like yeh bitch

shane madej: nations greatest tragedy.

i can hear this in my head just looking at these gifs and it makes me laugh everytime and thats BAD cos a child fucking died

shanes a freak pt.2

OH SHIT one time in postmortem they joked that brent was coming back and shane was leaving and fuck? they had to actually address that it was a joke fUCK

its not all shittalking and screaming there really is some fond and happy shit too

bfu most recognisable and iconic line.

shanes hottest pick up lines when hes on site

the comments on the video for this ep about this part are fucking hilarious please read when you watch that ep

okay its common knowledge that shanes a demon which ill tlak about in a sec but THIS SCENE RIGHT HERE? ryans the fucking demon. like the way hes just standing there, hands clasped behind his back, giving shane (whos acting like a CHILD) that Look? demon bout to kill the dumbass chillin at a haunted house on halloween. come to collet a soul or 10. magical!

OKAY SO SHANE TALKS SOME BIG GAME IN THE EPS but HIS love for ryan will always melt my heart like HE LOVES and cares about ryan so much and supports buzzfeed unsolved so much and whenever things get dumb on social media shanes ready to call it out and make a post or just like. praise ryan (like he rightfully deserves) and yeah im emo about it anyway hes shane being cute part one and heres shane REALLY FUCKING going all out (!!!!!!!!!!.meme)i LOVE him also being cute part two

‘id walk into the sea.’

shanes a freak pt.3

ryan: “Are ghosts real?” shane: *this dumb face*

NERDS

i laughed for like 10 minutes the first time i watched this part thankyou shane

THEM LAUGHING TILL THEY CRIED ABOUT SOMEONE THAT DIED PLAYING THE PIANO

a real insight to shanes mind

ryan really puts up with this

shane got a bowlcut once just for funsies like okay youre no joba but good job i guess

TROPES/ICONIC MEMES/WAHTEVER:

shanes a demon

+ free real estate.meme

+ the office.meme

+ he aint right

+ JALDSHFK FUCK

+ ryan acknowledging that shane is a demon thankyou

+ like the good thing about having a guest fill in on the few times shanes been away has been ryan always being like okay so the demons not here so lets just acknowledge That

goatsman bridge

+ the video that started all this aka the one you reblogged hehhehe

+ what a fucking JOKE

+ an absolute JOKE

+ bridge owner fuck OFF

+ ksdjhfgjhsdkj.meme

sallie house

+ shane was insufferable this episode i fell in love for real how did ryan LIVE

+ like imagine trying to feel your heart beating while fucking shanes over there doing That

+ rock n roll buckaroo

+ swell has become apart of my daily vocal i hate

bobby mack

+ ‘hey there demons. its me, ya boi.’

+ ‘and frankly i dont believe in you, so i feel like im writing a letter to santa claus right now.’

+ tweet.meme

+ overall a great ep

+ can shane calm the fuck down okay i need ryan to make it out of this SAFELY and ALIVE

father thomas

+ ryans FACE also shane being that annoying sibling to ur parents

+ father thomas really went into this thinking he could help these boys to be fair shane was taking notes. ryan was just? dying inside

+ freak

+ imagine being like a 70 yr old priest hearing some dudes walking into ur congregation and overhearing ‘jesus said chill.’

bigfoot

+ ryan does not rly believe in bigfoot but shane does so like you win some you lose some

+ in the least shippy way possible this epsiode is ultimate soft gays going on a hike

+ like its just such a sweet domestic ep

+ <3

+ just happy babbey

#probably missing a lot and theres a lot of sources missing cos....... i dont have a bfu blog so none of my shits correctly tagged #like nivks is ORGANISED cos its dedicated but...... i only have one bfy tag oops #but HOPE U LIKE IT AND ITS LIKE a little bit informative #buzzfeed unsolved #bfu

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bibliophileiz · 6 years

Text

I figured out my issue with the new Charmed

First I want to say I like most of these characters in the new one. I’m rooting for them and I hope they do great. I’m going to keep watching through this season because I want to know how Macy died and how she got brought back to life and I want to know who killed Marisol.

That said. There is too much crap going on this season and we are only halfway through.

At the risk of comparing this show too much to the original ... actually, fuck it. Everything about this show from its marketing to the premise asks to be compared to the original, so here goes. I know I look at the original through a nostalgic lens, but I have tried to remove that lens when looking at this new one and I am pretty convinced that in this one aspect, at least, the original Charmed was better.

A lot of things that were memorable about the original Charmed -- the romantic subplots, the conflict between the Charmed Ones and the Elders, the mom’s love triangle and reason for giving up one of her children -- all those things developed slowly over multiple seasons. Never were there two major romantic subplots going on at once, at least not in the first four seasons (which are the ones I actually remember). The Whitelighters weren’t a thing until more than halfway through the first season and the Elders were even later than that. The mom’s love triangle was introduced in one episode in Season 2 to parallel with Piper’s romantic subplot and then only picked up again when they had to retrofit it to introduce Paige after Shannen Doherty left the show. Meanwhile, the main myth arc plot of each season involved all three sisters ... if there even WAS a main myth arc plot. It was the late ‘90s, and Charmed episodes were less like Supernatural, which has season-long plots, and more like Touched By an Angel, which involved the main characters helping out one or two people per episode and then moving on to another mini plot. With some exceptions, of the episodes stood alone.

That’s not in vogue now. Television today is all about season-long plot arcs and cliffhangers and making your entire show one story -- even though TV shows are a risky medium for that type of story because you never know how many episodes you’ll get a season, if you’ll be renewed and which actors will sign back on.

Which isn’t to say it can’t be done. Veronica Mars was super good about telling complete stories in the span of a season, at least until the network micromanaged Rob Thomas into fucking it up in Season 3. Justified is the same way, as is The Hour, my favorite TV show.

The new Charmed, knowing one, that the thing to do in TV shows today is tell a story over a season and two, that all those things I mentioned previously -- the Whitelighters, the Elders, the babies given up for adoption, the romantic subplots -- are all big Charmed things, is trying jampack them all into the first season to make sure you know it’s Charmed and it is ... cluttered.

We are what -- 10, 11? -- episodes into the season and every single character -- including the Whitelighter who at this point in the original had been in like three episodes and only had magical powers in one -- have their own plots and romances. For two of those characters, the romances don’t even have anything to do with their magic plot, thus giving them a separate plot. And if these plots are all related, they’re very tenuously so. Here’s what I mean.

Macy: Romantic interest in Galvin, and it’s so far going pretty smoothly. There were bumps in the road what with him being a mortal and with her thinking he was being preyed on by a succubus or a siren or whatever his earlier girlfriend was supposed to be before she turned out to be a perfectly normal lady who just conveniently broke up with him. And there’s some issue with her being a virgin and a little unsure around guys in general. Right now they’re together and figuring out how to be a couple with everything she’s got going on. Also, Galvin’s not really supposed to know about witchy stuff and Harry keeps wanting to wipe his memory.

Macy has another plot, though, the secret back-story plot where her mother gave her to her dad to raise her as a mortal, and Macy doesn’t know why. In this last episode, Macy learned her parents kept in touch and were still in love, even to the point where they conceived Maggie, making her Macy’s full sister and Mel’s half-sister (opposite of what they’d always believed). Then at the end of last episode, it turned out that Macy’s parents did something BAD -- something they worried Macy wouldn’t forgive them for -- to bring her back from the dead. (It was at this point that I decided that, no, I would not be waiting for the show to come on Netflix to finish out the season like I’d been considering, I would be watching the next episode the night it aired.)

But also, Macy has a plot where the lab she’s working for has been pseudo-taken over by demons who have stolen all the Charmed Ones’ DNA for presumably nefarious purposes. This plot actually is tied to one of Maggie’s plots and is the closest any of these plots have to being about all three Charmed Ones.

Mel: Gets TWO romantic interests and what might turn into a love triangle, despite the fact that it was looking like her two romantic plots might not overlap. First there’s her long-time girlfriend Niko, a cop whose memory Mel ends up having to erase for Niko’s safety -- a nice tragic romance trope which usually stops the memory-less character’s plot cold. Now Mel is falling for Jada, a cool-ass witch who works for a secret, possibly-nefarious, possibly just politically and philosophically different from the Elders witch organization which has a cool name that I forget. But wait -- there’s more! It turns out, after having her memory wiped, Niko became a private investigator hired by Jada’s family to save her from the “cult” she’s joined. Remember what I said about memory erasure usually stopping the character’s plot cold?

At least Mel’s romantic subplots tie into her actual plots, and at least Mel gets character points for seeming to be the only character who is actually interested in finding out who killed their mom. She first starts to infiltrate Jada’s witchy organization on the Elders’ orders when they all think Jada’s organization might have had a hand in Mom’s death. Now Jada says her mom was actually a part of the organization, which is also trying to figure out who killed her. Mel is secretly working with Jada, without telling the Elders, Harry or even Mel’s sisters (unless that came up in another episode and I totally forgot about it while trying to keep track of all these other plots).

Harry: Harry’s romantic interest is Charity, an Elder. It’s a little unclear what exactly Elders are in this version of the Charmed verse. Are they powerful Whitelighters, powerful Witches or a mixture of both? Charity says the Charmed Ones’ mom was an Elder, suggesting at least some of them are witches. In the original Charmed, the Elders were extra-powerful Whitelighters, but the suggestion was that once witches were dead, they not only were not beholden to Whitelighters anymore, but they were even more powerful than them. (At one point Grams tells Phoebe, “I’m beyond them now.”) What IS clear is that Elders and Whitelighters aren’t allowed to be together -- little shout-out to the Piper-Leo plot from the original there. So not as dramatic as Mels’s love triangle, but more dramatic than Macy and Galvin.

But Harry, it turns out, has another, totally unrelated-to-Charmed-things plot involving wiped memories and a son he THOUGHT died, who he then forgot about, but he now remembers and now actually IS alive after all. What this has to do with ... anything else on the show ... remains to be seen.

Maggie: Maggie had a forgettable love interest for two episodes on the show before moving onto the most dramatic romantic subplot a teenage girl can have -- she falls for her best friend’s boyfriend! After several episodes of angst and an illicit kiss, the boyfriend, a totally boring dude named Parker, breaks it off with his girlfriend so he and Maggie can be together. Maggie’s BFF, whose name I forget, gets an episode dedicated to her rage and Maggie being sorry before she’s shuffled aside so Maggie and Parker can be together, which is important because ....

Psych! Parker’s actually half a demon who needs to become whole demon through Charmed magic or he dies. His mother runs Macy’s lab and his father is an evil demon who controls people, which led to him stealing the Harbinger from Charity and --

Wait, I just realized none of these plots are the actual plot of the season -- because the first episode established that Trump becoming president and the rise of the Harbinger -- which is some kind of evil demon -- are both signs of the apocalypse which the Charmed ones have to stop. (I wasn’t even done explaining Maggie’s plot yet!)

Anyway, this show has too much going on.

How all these plots affect the show:

One thing -- and this sounds sarcastic but it’s totally not -- the characters all deliver their lines extremely fast. They have to -- they have plot things to say. They don’t get much time for the usual CW pop culture references*, let alone verbal pauses and room for their lines to spread out and let them react to what’s going on through their facial expressions and body language.

*at least that I recall -- although Macy got a very good one a couple of episodes ago where she called a demon “Daenerys” because he introduced himself by listing a million titles he supposedly has.

It also makes it really hard to keep up with each individual plot arc while taking away valuable time we need to get to know the characters. Occasionally the show fits in a good sisterly-bonding moment -- Macy and Maggie in particular get scenes to themselves where they’re goofing off together while Mel’s off brooding somewhere. Plus, at least for a while, there were some good scenes between Mel and Harry at least until they each got their own romantic subplot. But with the last couple of episodes -- which managed to fit every gd one of the above-mentioned plots into their 42-minute runtimes -- I’m kind of left wondering how the sisters’ plots are related and what Harry’s even doing in the show.

And I love Harry -- I love that the sisters were bringing him tea in the episode after he got out of Tartarus. Except that they actually gave it to Charity to give him, because we can’t have family bonding time when there are romantic subplots to get to, and other than a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it reference to worrying about Harry in the exposition, they seem to have pretty much forgotten about his trauma by next episode. I thought he was becoming part of the family.

And what I said above -- I wasn’t being funny for effect, I actually did forget that there was a whole plot with the Harbinger -- who was introduced in the very first episode -- until I typed “Wait I just realized none of these plots are the actual plot of the season.” All these plots literally made me forget about the season’s actual plot.

I’m not a die-hard fan or anything -- I’m sure there are people who know the names of Maggie’s ex-boyfriend and best friend and know what Jada’s witchy organization is called or can remember whether Elders are witches or Whitelighters. But I’m watching each episode one time once a week, which is what most viewers are going to be doing, and I’m missing major stuff.

Charmed needs to -- step back, de-clutter, do some spring cleaning. But at this point, I don’t know that they can. They’ve invested too much into all these plots and I think it would be pretty weird to just ... never tell us if Parker died. Personally I wouldn’t mind if Parker died because I found him extremely boring and thought he took up time from more interesting characters and story arcs, but there was so much time invested in telling us his story that it would be a mistake to leave it where it is and come back to it next season. And the same thing goes for all the other plots.

This isn’t mean to be wank. I legitimately like this show and want it to succeed, but I’m wondering what everyone else thinks. I don’t know that new Charmed will get enough of a following if it keeps throwing new plot lines at us every episode in hopes of bringing us back every week. There needs to be more time developing characters to make us actually care about these plots. And if you’re hoping to have more seasons, then surely some of these can be saved for farther down the road like in the original Charmed.

In the meantime, ... team Niko. (Sorry Jada.)

#this isn't anti-jada i actually like her a lot #i think she's going to be the new cole #i just really liked nico ok?#new charmed #not wank but some people might read it that way #also maybe people who are watching this more than i am can answer some of my questions #but ... there are just so many plots #charmed #*niko

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maevefiction · 6 years

Text

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 39

I dumped my bag and the baked goods on the counter, then leaned back against it.

“He never joins your family for the holidays? But this year…he IS? Did someone tell him that you all know what he did? What the actual fuck, man?”

He shook his head. “Em and Sarah insist they haven’t said a word, and I sure as hell haven’t, and I don’t think Mum has…so we’re all completely blown out of the water by this. He called Mum earlier and essentially said ‘I’ve decided to join you Thursday and Friday’ and that was that. After the divorce, he showed up two years running, but once Em was ten he decided that his presence was no longer necessary because Christmas was for children and surely she’d grown past such foolishness by then. He never even bothered to show up last year, when Sarah and Ansh were finally able to join us at Christmas for the first time since having Saachi.”

I crossed my arms. “So, he doesn’t turn up for a first Christmas with his only grandchild but this year, he does? Is it because she’s a little older, maybe? Eh, that sounds ridiculous so I’ll say that is totally not the reason. What’s your take on this? Any ideas?”

His gaze fell to the floor, then returned to my face. I didn’t wait for him to speak.

“Oh for fuck’s sake you think it’s me, don’t you?” My arms uncrossed, one hand rising to my forehead and resting there, palm down. “But WHY? Why does he give even the remotest shit about you and I, if he hasn’t cared about anything else…OH MY FUCKING GOD, IT IS ME, isn’t it? Jesus…listen, babe, if you want me to sit this one out…”

Closing the distance between us, he took me in his arms, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Not. A. Chance. If you don’t feel comfortable going, I’m staying right here with you.” He leaned back, staring into my eyes. “And yes, I do think it’s related to you in some way. I just can’t quite figure out how or why.”

“Is that what your mother thinks? Is that who you were talking to?”

His head shook again. “No, that’s not what she thinks…I was talking to her and my sisters on a conference call. None of them know what to think. They’re just trying to figure out how to flow with it and not let it ruin the holiday. Which is a challenge and a half, after this past summer.”

I released him and grabbed the bakery bag from behind me. “Let’s have some cookies and put on our thinking caps and try and puzzle this out.”

A dozen over-sized chocolate chip delights and an hour later, we were no closer to solving the equation, likely because, as Tony Stark explained in the Avengers, we didn’t have all the variables.

Tom’s head was in his hands, elbows on the dining table amongst the crumby mess we’d made, and he spoke without looking up. “Bottom line is no matter what the man throws at you, IF he throws anything at you, that is…I know you can handle it, Maude. You on your weakest day is a thousand times more powerful than him on his strongest.”

As he glanced through his fingers at me, across the table, I raised a brow. “Uh, a thousand? Hyperbolize much, Tom?”

He sat up, smiling. “I do not. You simply underestimate your strength, my love.”

I rolled my eyes. “Puh-leaze. Stop it. Honestly, it’s all totally confusing and makes no sense and I’m slamming myself up against a logic wall at this point. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Which, as you know, fucking drives me bat crap crazy so…feel like going out for some burgers and wrapping supplies?”

Standing, he stretched, arms up toward the ceiling, his lower belly and happy trail peeking at me yet again. It was a view I would never tire of, for sure. When my eyes made their way up to his face, he was grinning. Caught, I was…red handed. Eyed? Something.

“That sounds perfect, actually. I’ll go put some pants on.”

I bit my lip. “Good. You do that. I’m going to use the facilities.” His mouth opened, but I cut him off. “I’m PEEING. Nothing else, you bastard. I am capable of restraint, you know.” A chuckle. “Oh, MAN…”

He jogged up the stairs, and shortly thereafter we were out the door and on our way.

****************************************

My alarm went off at six AM on Wednesday, and I left Tom all warm and naked in our bed to grab a cheese danish and a cup of tea before heading downstairs. I’d wrapped my gifts for him last night, having locked myself in the over-crowded spare room. At points I could hear him breathing heavily outside the door, and knew he was doing it on purpose to distract me in hopes of getting a look at what I’d gotten for him. He gave up after three attempts, and I was able to continue in peace. Diana had come to my aid, providing me with a list of all she could recall of the Jurassic Park toys Tom had played with as a child. One by one I’d tracked them down on eBay and had them sent to the office, and Simon had hidden them for me in our flat while we’d been gone. I’d even managed to score the rare Electronic T-Rex, Jungle Explorer Vehicle and the Command Compound, new and sealed in their boxes. The action figures weren’t quite as hard to find, and I’d gotten a set that included five of the main characters still in their original packaging. In addition to those, as a sort of gag-but-not-really gift, I’d found a very cool strap-on set that included six dildos, sized from kinda small to bigger than Tom’s own cock. THAT one I put off to the side so I wouldn’t accidentally bring it with us to Diana’s house…plus, I was hoping he would want to try it out, like, immediately after opening it. Part of me wanted to save it for Loki’s next visit, but I’d been thinking about it for months, and he’d mentioned it several times, so, no time like the present, right? The pièce de résistance was obtained via the most convoluted network of human beings I’d ever had to wrangle, a daisy chain that included Stephen Spielberg which had started with me and ended with Harrison Ford writing a letter and signing one of the fedoras he’d worn in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. The only downside was that I was aware that it was likely a feat I would never, ever be able to top.

The shipment arrived as scheduled, eight AM on the dot, and the driver even schlepped it all downstairs for us. Everything had been prepped and ready to go, so Trudy and I set about getting all the servers in place so they’d be ready to connect once the utility company was done installing the T1 line…they’d turned up just after we’d opened the cartons. Everyone else was off for the day, so we cranked some tunes while we set up the network itself and installed all the software. As soon as our internet was accessible, we updated the newly-installed software, then began adding our own. Trudy and I had written the client management program together, though the base code was hers alone. It had functioned perfectly during previous testing, so we focused mainly on it running cross network and left it at that. Tom brought us lunch at around two, and after our break we dove into external DNS access, connectivity and security protocols. It was the most time-consuming and intricate part of the process, but by midnight we had a functional, locked down system that was ready for intensive testing, which was set to begin first thing Monday morning. From the look on Trudy’s face, though, I was reasonably sure that she’d be at it over the weekend if she got the chance. The only other remaining obstacle, other than testing, was the installation of security devices and alarms, and the company providing us with those was scheduled to come in on Tuesday. We celebrated our victory by inhaling an entire bag of truffles, high fiving each other and bragging about how we’d accomplished in a single day what Mark hadn’t been able to achieve in months. It was just after one AM when I dragged myself upstairs, then up the flat’s steps, stripped, and crawled in next to a slumbering Tom…and I would have thought he’d remained there for the entire day if it weren’t for the fact that he’d brought Trudy and I lunch.

Thursday afternoon found us on the road, quickly nearing Oxford, gifts tucked into the trunk of the Jaguar, our season’s greetings having been exchanged with Luke and Simon right before we’d left. They were spending the holiday with Luke’s parents, and Roland would be joining them for Boxing Day. U2 performing Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) was on the radio, and I was watching Tom’s hands as he manipulated the steering wheel. An elegant man guiding an elegant machine. The brief feeling of positivity about the holiday I’d experienced on Tuesday had faded after the whole ‘dad’s coming’ thing, and I really, really felt like asking him to turn around so we could go back home and have our own private, peaceful Christmas….but I knew he’d say yes, and I didn’t want to be the one responsible for him missing out on time with his family, which, in spite of all the insanity, had always been precious to him, even more so since he’d started travelling for his career.

He turned to me, smiling. “All set for your first holiday with the future in-laws?”

“Sure. Yep. You betcha.”

His right hand left the wheel and pressed gently into my thigh. “I’m sorry it’s gone a bit off the rails, my love.”

I snorted. “When we write our joint biography, that’s SO going to be the title.”

“Oh, I like that. Fitting.”

“Unlike this damn bra.” I reached down the V-neck of my blood-red sweater and shifted my boobs back into place. The color was the closest I could force myself to come to being festively dressed, whereas Tom was wearing a bright green monstrosity that his mother had given him last Christmas. Apparently, that was her thing…new holiday sweaters for everyone each year. Shaking my head, I reminded myself to be grateful that it wasn’t one of the infamous UGLY Christmas style sweaters, and also that I needed to say a hearty thank you and pretend to like the one that was surely lying in wait for me to open tomorrow. I heard a car horn honk, and realized that Tom had drifted off to the side of the road because he was staring at my tits. “Dude. Eyes on the road. EYES ON THE ROAD.”

“I know, I know. Sorry. But surely you can’t expect me to look away when you’re fiddling with them so artistically and they’re shifting around with such buoyance like…like…”

“Like, boobs?”

He nodded. “Yes. Boobs. Do shut up now, Maude. Safety first, you know.”

“Oh, safety…speaking of, you know this seat belt really rubs against them something fierce…”

“Behave, lest Father Christmas decides you belong on the naughty list after all.”

I sighed in mock exasperation. “You are really, really mean, you know? But let’s be real, I’ve GOT to be on that naughty list already because what I bought YOU is…”

“NO SPOILERS. WE AGREED NO SPOILERS.”

“But it’s…”

“My lord, woman, NO. NO NO NO NO NO.”

I chuckled, then reached over to rest my hand on the nape of his neck, rubbing gently with my thumb. “No spoilers, babe. I promise.” He moaned quietly as I pressed harder. “How are you coping with this? It’s all strange and new for me, but you’re used to it being a certain way. You okay?”

His right hand returned to my thigh as he turned onto the street that would take us to his childhood home. “You’re right, I am accustomed to the holidays being as they’ve always been since he stopped coming, and if I’m honest, it’s been vastly better that way. But it is what it is, and I’m just going to focus on the fact that it’s our first Christmas together and…well…fuck everything else.”

“Fuck everything else. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

He grinned, rotating the wheel to the right as he pulled into the driveway, two other cars already neatly parked in front of the garage. “No, you couldn’t have…because it’s essentially the exact phrasing you would have chosen, is it not?”

“You are correct, sir. Did you perchance buy me a thesaurus for Christmas so I can expand my vocabulary?”

He put the car in park, leaned over and bit my neck. “I did no such thing. I happen to both admire and adore your vocabulary. Especially your habitual overuse of things like ‘oh yes’ and ‘oh god’ and ‘fuck me’.”

I bit my bottom lip and smiled, left brow raised. “I love you, you ridiculously horny dork.”

He laughed and pinched my cheek. “Lobbing that right back at you.”

We were grabbing our first load of stuff from the trunk when the yelling started. It was faint at first, and high pitched, and then I saw an adorable tiny human running towards us.

“Uncle Tommy! Happy Christmas! Happy Christmas!”

She was gorgeous, big dark eyes, dark brown hair, two shoulder-length braids bouncing and flying out behind her as she drew closer. I knew she was four, and thought she was probably of average height for that age, but in truth I had no fucking idea because children were like creatures from another planet to me. The way Tom squatted down to catch her in his arms then lifted her up, first spinning her, then popping her onto his shoulders and running a few laps around the driveway as he screamed ‘yay’ right along with her made my heart melt, and when I imagined him doing the same thing with our own child, I found it hard to breathe. Tom ran back to me, Saachi still on his shoulders, both of them grinning like fools. An unfamiliar voice caused me to inhale sharply, and I saw a woman approaching us quickly. She was about my height, though I was wearing my Diva Darcies so that stacked the deck a bit, slender, bearing a strong resemblance to Tom but with a different nose, a good amount of visible freckles across her cheeks and strawberry-blonde hair. I’d only seen her in pictures until this moment, and her hair had been much longer, down to her waist, as opposed to the chin-length bob she was sporting was now…but there was no doubt it was Sarah.

“Saachi, what did we decide? We decided that we’d wait for Uncle Tom and Aunt Maude to come INSIDE before throwing ourselves at them, did we not?”

Aunt Maude. Not helping with the breathing difficulties. Sarah strode toward me first, arms wide open, wrapping me in a snug embrace that I was barely able to return. She pulled back, hands grasping my forearms as she looked me up and down, smiling beatifically.

“Maude, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I’d like to formally welcome you to the insanity that is every single Hiddleston holiday. And pretty much every Hiddleston gathering, come to think of it.” Her hands slid down to hold mine, lifting the left one up to examine my ring. “My word, this is so unique and stunningly elegant.” She released me as she turned to Tom. “Well done, little brother. Saachi, have you said hello to Aunt Maude yet?”

Saachi shook her head, and Tom lifted her off his shoulders and placed her gently on the ground. She held out one tiny hand, looking up at my shyly. “Hello, Auntie Maude. ‘S nice to meet you.”

I leaned down and took her hand in mine, shaking very gently, terrified that I’d somehow break her. “Hi Saachi. It’s nice to meet you too.”

She paused, glancing down at my feet then back up at my face, nodding, still holding my hand. “I like your shoes. Come inside and help us decorate the tree. Grandma has lots of pretty things we have to hang today so Father Christmas will come tonight.”

And with that, I was led up the driveway by the adorable tiny human, her mother and uncle following behind me, both giggling, their arms around each other’s waists.

An incredibly handsome man with dark hair to his shoulders and nearly-black eyes was waiting in the doorway. He squatted down, hands on the knees of his jeans. “Well, my Saachi, I see you’ve brought us a new friend. Thank you.” He ruffled her hair as he stood, then extended his hand toward me. “Hello, Maude. I’m Ansh, but you likely knew that already. Lovely to meet you.”

We shook briefly, as Saachi was tugging on my other hand. “Good to meet you as well, Ansh. I’d stay and chat but I think someone has other plans…”

He laughed. “She always has some sort of plan. Gets that from her mother.”

Sarah and Tom had caught up to us, and she reached out and slugged Ansh in the shoulder. “If I didn’t always have a plan, where would you be, Ansh? Back home, that’s where. At the airport, eight hours late.”

He kissed her cheek. “You speak the truth, my love. I am grateful for your plans. Unquestionably.”

She chuckled, and they led the way into the living room. Saachi pulled me forward, and Tom took hold of my other hand. The staircase had been done up with fresh pine garland and white lights, and the tree was directly ahead, at the front-facing portion of the living/drawing room. It had white lights as well, and plastic tubs full of decorations were scattered around it, and on the closest couch as well. Diana was bent over one of the tubs, Emma was holding another and rummaging through it, and behind her was David, her fiancé. She’d shown me pictures of him on her phone, and I hadn’t thought he’d be so tall…same height as Tom, stockier build, and an honest-to-goodness genuine ginger with green eyes. He’d taken a single step toward me when Diana and Em noticed we’d arrived, both rushing ahead of David to dole out hugs. Diana reached me first, and Saachi let go of my hand in order to move out of the way, skipping over to stand at her mother’s side.

“Maude! Welcome, welcome! I’m so glad you came.” She squeezed me, then kissed my cheeks. “You look beautiful in that color. How are you? How’s your new project coming along?” Laughing and shaking her head, she released me. “You can answer over dinner…I’m sure you and Tom want to finish unloading the car and getting everything up to your room. Same as last time for you both so you have your own bath. Sarah and Ansh are in my room, Em and Dave are in Sarah’s old room, James will be in Em’s old room, and I’m in Tom’s.”

I could feel my eyes widen, remembering what havoc we’d wreaked on Tom’s bed during our last visit. “You know, we’d be just fine in Tom’s room…”

Diana grinned slyly. “No, no, it’s all right. I’ll be perfectly comfortable in the new double I had put in last week. Long overdue, truthfully. That old single had seen far better days.” She winked at me, and I tried to not die on the spot as she switched places with Em, who stared at my rapidly reddening cheeks, then giggled as she embraced me, whispering in my ear.

“Never underestimate Mum’s ability to find things out, Maude. She’s like Sherlock, but…worse.”

We released each other, my neck and chest now flushed as well. “Oh. My. God. Sooo…does EVERYONE know we broke the bed? Distant relatives? Friends from work? Random strangers? Should I start wearing a ski mask when I’m out in public?”

Em doubled over, laughing. “Oh, Maude…you are hilarious.”

Tom and Diana had separated, her attention diverted to Saachi, who was peeking out from behind Diana’s legs and waving at me. I waved back, feeling Tom’s hand come to rest on my lower back.

“What’s hilarious, Em?”

She pointed at me, trying to compose herself and failing. “Her. Ask her. I can’t.”

And with that I grabbed Tom, pulling him back toward the door. “Let’s get the rest of the stuff now, m’kay?”

As soon as we were outside he turned his head in my direction, in step with me as we headed for the car. “So, does our hasty exit have something to do with what was hilarious?”

I nodded. “Yup.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And I thought this was the part where you tell me what was…”

“Your mother knows we broke your bed.”

We’d reached the car, and he had the keys in his hand, ready to open the trunk, but promptly dropped them onto the pavement upon hearing my words. His mouth hung open, then snapped shut before he reached down to pick them up, then spoke.

“I’m sorry…what was that again?”

“Your mother. She knows. That we broke your childhood bed. While having sex.”

He leaned on the car for support. “Well fuck ME.”

I snorted. “Exactly the root of the problem.”

He shook his head, eyes wide, now standing erect, hands out to the side at shoulder level. “And to think I spent all those years managing to not get caught tossing off, yet a single visit home with you…”

“Mmm hmm. Sorry, sunshine...joke all you like, but I have no idea how I’m going to go back in there.”

He reached out a hand, which I grudgingly accepted, then pulled me into his arms. “I’ll be right there with you, by your side, your eternal partner in familial mortification. We’ll take the mickey together.”

I sighed, gazing up at him. “This isn’t ever going to go away, is it?”

“Oh, no. Never. We’ll be a hundred and fifty and they’ll still be going on about it.” His eyes closed briefly. “My mother knows I had vigorous sex in my childhood bedroom with my wife-to-be. That’s not so awful, is it? I mean, it’s obvious that we HAVE sex, is it not? We’re adults, in our thirties, we live together…one should assume…”

“And your sister. Don’t forget about your sister. And probably your other sister. And…”

“Good lord, my sisters. Get in the Jag, my love…next stop, home.”

I pulled him down to me, kissing him gently at first, then sucking his bottom lip into my mouth. He groaned when I released him.

“Maude.”

“What?”

“Now I’m sporting a raging hard-on. Lovely accompaniment to my other problem, that.”

Grinning, I took the keys from him and opened the trunk, loading myself up with bags. “Figured maybe that would give them something else to discuss besides the bed, you know?”

“Fantastic.”

“I thought so, anyway.”

He rested one hand on my shoulder and I turned to find his face an inch from mine. “My mother knows I have sex.”

I nodded. “Your mother knows you have sex with ME. We’re just going to pretend this never happened and if anyone mentions it I’m going to feign a fainting spell and you can carry me out to the car and we’ll escape. Sound like a plan?”

“Yes, but then they’re likely to think you’re pregnant…”

“Shut the fuck up, Tom.”

Laughing, he kissed my cheek and grabbed the remainder of our luggage. “Yes, ma’am. Will do."

****************************************

We shot right upstairs to our room upon re-entry, sat on the bed for a few minutes, then walked down the stairs to meet our fate. Everyone was busy decorating, and we helped hang ornaments, Saachi picking them out and instructing me where to place them. Just when I thought we were in the clear, Tom pressed against me from behind to put a fragile bauble higher up and I lost my balance, falling forward and almost taking out the eight foot spruce. He caught me by quickly wrapping one arm around my waist, but the tree was left shaking like mad.

Sarah broke the brief silence that followed in my clumsy dork wake. “Easy there, you two. Beds we’ve aplenty, but there’s only one tree.”

Everyone burst out laughing, including the man holding my sorry ass up…though he tried to disguise it, I could feel his chest vibrating against my back. I was in the middle of turning around to take a bow when the doorbell rang and the room fell silent yet again.

Diana cleared her throat and spoke, her voice bright and cheery. “Well, that’s Dad, then. I’ll see him in.”

My eyes met Tom’s, then noted him swallowing repeatedly before smiling at me. I stood at his side, our arms around each other’s waists, waiting, listening to distant voices that drew ever closer until their source came into full view. Tom’s father was around his height, strikingly handsome, hair gone completely white. I could see bits of Tom in his face, and similarities in the way he held himself. Elegant, just shy of regal. He was wearing a light blue button down shirt under a navy blazer, paired with khaki slacks and toffee brown deck shoes. His accent, though not as strong as it likely was before relocating to England, was still present, and the melodic Scottish lilt combined with the pitch of Tom’s voice reminded me of Sean Connery.

“Hello, all. Happy Christmas.”

His greeting seemed to hang in the air, creating an undercurrent of tension, awkwardness and uncertainty. No one replied, except for Saachi.

“Happy Christmas, Granddad. Your hair is very white. Mummy says we’ve met before but I don’t remember because I was a baby then and babies aren’t good at remembering.”

He went to her instantly, squatting down before her and taking her hand, then planting a kiss on the top of it.

“My, you’ve grown into a beautiful young lass, Saachi. I’m very glad to see you.”

She giggled and pulled her hand away, eyes narrowing. “Have you brought me a present?”

Sarah groaned. “Saachi, remember your manners, please.” James stood, and Sarah embraced him tentatively. “Hello, Dad. Good to see you.”

Ansh garnered a handshake, as did Dave, and Em was the recipient of a hug, which she returned with visibly shaking hands. That left Tom. And me. James closed the distance between himself and us in four striding steps. He reached out and patted Tom’s upper arm.

“Thomas. How are you, son?”

Tom returned the gesture. “Fantastic, Dad. You?”

James nodded. “Quite well, quite well.” He turned to me. “And you must be Maude.”

I faked a smile. “Lovely to meet you, Mr. Hiddleston.” When I extended my hand, he accepted and shook vigorously.

“The feeling’s mutual. And please, call me James.”

I nodded as he released me and turned to Diana. “I believe I was promised some of your famous fish and chips, Di. It’s been far too long…”

She rolled her eyes. “All battered, the fryer’s been ready for an hour, waiting on you.”

He laughed, she laughed, and the rest of just stared at each other, heads tilted like a pack of confused puppies.

Dinner was delicious, but the undercurrent of strangeness permeated the atmosphere. Desert was assorted puddings served with coffee and tea, as well as the sugar cookies Diana had baked and decorated to make me feel more at home, as it wasn’t part of their tradition. Saachi decided that from that point on, they would be. She began to doze off at nine-thirty or so as we all sat in the living room after a round of caroling, her head bobbing and finally coming to rest on Sarah’s upper arm. Ansh scooped her up, and when she woke briefly she mumbled something about presents then was out cold again. When he and Sarah came back downstairs after tucking her in, James cleared his throat and stood, moving to the center of the horseshoe of couches, hands extended, palms up as he addressed the room.

“Well then. I’d imagine you’re all wondering what in heaven’s name I’m doing here, and I aim to explain as best I can, but wanted to wait until the little one was off to bed first.” No one moved, no one spoke, and after he was certain things would remain as such, he continued. “Simply put, your mother invited me to join the family for Christmas.”

Sarah, who was seated closest to Diana, turned to her, eyes wide. “Mum. You invited him? Is he serious?”

Diana nodded. “Yes. I did. He is.” She glanced pointedly at each of her progeny in turn. “And as a favor to your Mum, I’m requesting that you please allow him to continue.” Sarah returned her gaze to James, nodding curtly along with Tom and Emma.

James cleared his throat again. “Back in August, she reached out to me and asked me over for dinner so we could discuss a few…things. She advised me of what you all had spoken about, making it clear that the reason for our divorce was no longer a matter just between the two of us. Since then, we’ve been talking frequently. About the past, mainly, but also about the future. And we’ve…well, we’ve become rather decent friends.”

It was Emma’s turn for an outburst. “Friends? Surely you’re joking. Or I’m dreaming, or I’m in some parallel universe. Friends? Mum? Have you both lost your minds?”

Diana laughed. “Sometimes I wonder, love. But yes. We’ve spent a good bit of time going over everything, from the moment we met until we divorced, trying to figure it all out, what went wrong, the why of it, and…it just seemed it was something we needed to do, once and for all, I suppose.”

Sarah shook her head, eyes on Diana, left index finger pointing at James. “After everything he’s done…you’ve FORGIVEN him?” Her voice was raw, full of emotion she was struggling to contain.

Diana shook her head as well. “Sarah, it isn’t always about forgiveness. Sometimes it’s about closure. And acceptance.”

James nodded, his expression grim. “I would never, ever expect your mother to forgive me for my actions. They were unconscionable. Indefensible. Deplorable. Nor would I expect any of you to forgive them. That’s not why I’m standing before you. I’m here to apologize, though I understand that such a thing is likely too little and too late. But I’m doing it anyway. Sarah and Emily, I’m sorry you lived your lives without me when you needed a father most, though perhaps you were better off, and I’m sorry you were left wondering what went wrong between your mother and me. It was wrong, of both of us, to deny you your own closure, to not tell you the truth. And Tom…the way you found out what I’d been doing, that you carried that with you for so long, a burden so heavy, all on your own…and that you thought at some point you were to blame for the divorce…I…” He cleared his throat, overcome with emotion he likely didn’t want to display. “The three of you deserved better. Your mother deserved better. Over the past few years, as I’ve begun to not recognize the old man I see in the mirror every morning because he can’t possibly be ME…I started to view the past with new eyes. I can see my selfishness, the pain I’ve caused, the destruction I’ve wrought. I’ve lain awake many a night wishing I could go back and change it. But I can’t. And that’s the worst of it. I can’t take it back, I can’t make it disappear. And I’m not going to make excuses for myself, but I feel that I need to be honest, for a change…my first marriage ended, but the hurt…didn’t. And that was not something a man like me admits, especially to himself. So I told myself that love was useless, that it was pointless frivolity. And I believed it, like a religion. From that point forward, that’s how I lived my life. I liked, respected and enjoyed your mother, but I wouldn’t allow myself to become emotionally attached. Same thing with all of you. I focused on my career, and I permitted myself to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh, but love…that had left me betrayed and broken, and I maintained a firm, albeit foolish, resolve that I was never going to let that happen again.”

Again, silence fell over the room.

“So. Here we are. I suppose the point of what I said there is that what I’ve learned is that allowing your past to walk with you in the present does irreparable harm to the future, and not only yours, but that of those around you. As I said, I expect no forgiveness from you. I’m unworthy of it. But I came, because…because I wanted to tell you, in person, that you three, my children, you are all intelligent, talented, loving, caring people. And I am grateful for that now, each and every day. And I thank your mother for doing all the work of raising you, for being there for you, and teaching you how life should properly be lived. It’s not about money, it’s not about success, it’s not about power…it’s about the connections you form with the people around you. It doesn’t matter so much when you’re young and you have, seemingly, nothing but time…but when you get to be my age, time is short, and you look back and see all you missed, all you wasted…” He paused, inhaling deeply before continuing. “And now, all of you have your own connections, love in your lives. I’m grateful for that too. And I know it’s far too much to ask of you, after everything, but I shall do so anyway as your mother said I should, but if you would allow me to participate in events such as this, and, perhaps, eventually, to get to know you again, to learn all the things I should already know…well, I would welcome the opportunity. Very much so.”

And with that, he sat back down, arms crossed in front of him. What he’d said about the past walking with you in the present struck a chord with me, and I focused on that for the moment. It was still completely quiet, Tom’s hand now in mine, his eyes fixed on the floor, jaw clenched. Diana rose from her spot.

“Well, what say we put presents under the tree?”

Sarah got up so quickly that Ansh jumped, startled. “Great idea, Mum.”

And then, as so many families do, we simply carried on as if none of it had ever happened.

****************************************

Sarah and Ansh said goodnight first, reminding us that Sacchi would likely be up at a ridiculously early hour, which led to a mass exodus toward the second floor. There were hugs all around, but for James hanging back, and good tidings shared. After closing the door behind us, Tom half-jogged to the bed, sat down and rested his head in his hands. I walked to sit at his side, placing one hand on his lower back, then slowly circling, hoping to soothe.

“Maude. Did…I just…I really don’t know what to DO with all of this. I’m not even sure what I heard. This is…it’s…”

“Don’t put any pressure on yourself to do something right now. Take your time. Process it.” I snorted. “Said the woman who took an eternity to come to terms with her own familial bullshit.”

He lifted his head, a tiny smile upon his lips. “I adore you.”

“Of course you do.” I reached out with my free hand and cupped his chin, thumb gently stroking his stubbly cheek. “In all seriousness, though…how can I help? Do you need to vent? Rant?”

His head shook back and forth. “Not sure what I’d rant or vent about…too confused, because I just received an apology that I never saw coming nor ever imagined getting. I truly believed it would be about you, his reason for being here. But I think that might have been because of my own fear, that my father wouldn’t like you, that he wouldn’t approve of you, and it makes me sick to think that after all he’s done and all this time, that deep down, his opinion matters to me and I still crave his approval and his respect and his blessing and…and…” His voice broke as he began to sob. “And…and…his…lo…love.”

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him to my chest, and he wept upon my shoulder, uncontrollably, struggling to silence himself but unable to do so completely. Every time a gasp or muted wail escaped him I had to rein in a wince, as it reminded me of how both he had broken down in our hotel room in New Orleans and how I’d done the same at my mother’s house. This time, at least, I was fully present and able to offer him comfort. He clung to me as I stroked the back of his head and rocked him, and as he began to calm I whispered in his ear.

“I’m here. It’s okay, baby. I know. I know how it hurts. I understand. I love you.”

My sentiments were repeated until he spoke, his face buried in the crook of my neck. His voice was ragged, but soft. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I love you too.”

Just as I opened my mouth to say for what seemed like the millionth time that he need not apologize I felt his own mouth open, teeth sinking into my flesh, lips pressing, followed by suction so powerful it made my toes curl.

“Well hello there, Hiddleston. Damn. This is…unexpected. But please, do continue.”

He growled, fumbling with the hem of my sweater, working his hand inside to caress my left breast through the satin of my bra. Right after he began to pinch my hardened nipple, he pulled away from me, yanking his own sweater off over his head and blowing his nose in it. The snarky comment on my lips was suppressed by his tongue thrusting into my mouth as he guided me into a standing position. I bit down on it and he moaned, hips jutting forward and grinding against me. The kissing continued, sloppy and wet, a long string of saliva still connecting us when we finally came up for air and attempted to separate. Neither of us said a word, the only sound in the room the discordant noise of us removing our shoes and stripping off our clothes as quickly as humanly possible, flinging them everywhere. I looked away from my bra hooks for a moment to find him watching me, pupils blown, jaw clenched. My nether region did some clenching of its own as I completed the task at hand, spun the bra around on my index finger, then let it fly through the air to land on the dresser top. He remained where he was, and I strode toward him, biting my lip as I noticed his cock twitch. Leaning forward when I reached him, I blew on his chest hairs, the initial shiver intensifying as my tongue snaked out and circled his right nipple, then his left. When I added teeth, he pushed me up and off him, then walked me backwards to the bed. His voice was dripping with desire when he spoke, as was his cock.

“Hands and knees for me? On the bed?”

I nodded, mouth agape, panting at the thought of him taking me from behind. While there wasn’t a single position I didn’t like, doggy style was one of my favorites. Just a flash of what it always felt like, his hips slapping against my ass, was enough to cause a rush of wetness that began to trickle down my thighs. I turned and clambered onto the bed, scooting up far enough so he had room to join me, wiggling my own hips suggestively and peeking over my shoulder back at him. He was on me in a heartbeat, pulling my cheeks apart, one nimble finger dipping into me, then pulling out to circle my clit.

“The view from back here, woman. I wish you could see it, see yourself spread wide…open and ready. Ready for me. For my cock. Are you ready for my cock, Maude?”

I whimpered, quietly, I thought, but he heard me anyway.

“Oh, I’m of a mind that you’re MORE than ready.” The head nudged my entrance. “Are you? More than ready? Have you reached the point of desperation? Is it driving you mad, feeling me so close but not where you need me to be most?”

With that I slammed backwards, taking him all in, and the sound he made was half scream, half moan and entirely too loud. He grabbed my hips and began thrusting, hard, fast, and grunting with every single re-entry. I felt his fingers intertwine with my hair, then tugging on it gently but firmly and holding my head in place. He slowed, regaining some semblance of control, which I snatched away by rolling my pelvis and pushing back against him, parrying his thrusts. The hand that had been in my hair disappeared and his arm wrapped around my chest, pulling me up and back, until my ass was resting on his thighs, my knees bent and spread wide, feet resting on either side of him. He ran his tongue up and down the back of my neck as he began to massage my clit, and I squealed. His response was a whisper, and his hot breath on my ear making me clench around him.

“Ride. Me.”

“Yep. Sounds good. Will do.”

I lifted myself off his cock slowly, then sank back down, then again, and again and again, my tempo increasing with each instance as I drew closer to orgasm. As it began he propelled us both forward again, me coming to rest on my elbows with my cheek pressed to the bed, him on top of me, body covering me like a blanket, holding himself up with one arm at first so he could continue playing with my clit, then shifting as the need for additional support arose when he came, hips jerking erratically, mouth open and lips on my shoulder, moaning and whimpering as he spent himself inside me, my walls squeezing and pulsing, leaving me without words, or thoughts, feeling nothing but the pleasure in that moment.

We remained as we were until our panting returned to simply breathing, his chin resting on my shoulder. Tom regained the power of speech first, which was not a single bit surprising.

“Sorry if the timing of that appears questionable. I just…I…”

I pushed myself up on my hands, and he lifted himself off me and rolled us over. I pulled away from him, his cock slipping out of me as I did so, then rolled again to face him, index finger tracing the line of his jaw.

“No need to say it. I understand what you ‘just’.” And I did, absolutely. Receiving comfort, wanting to lose your pain in pleasure, the desire for closeness, fulfilling that desire via the act that brings you as physically close to another human as you can possibly be, reminding yourself of what’s good, affirming that you love and are loved.

He reached out to bring me closer, and I buried my face in his neck, and he buried his in my hair, stroking my back as he murmured how much he loved me and I did the same. It seemed like we’d just fallen asleep when we heard Saachi screaming excitedly out in the hallway.

“It’s morning! It’s morning! Father Christmas came! And he left presents! PRESENTS FOR ME!”

Tom and I donned our pajamas and robes, which I’d made sure to bring when he informed me that no one in the Hiddleston house dressed on Christmas day until it was time for dinner, which was actually lunch. No official breakfast, either, just chocolates and sweets and fruit and caffeinated beverages, which sounded acceptable to me. As we descended the stairs the smell of roasting turkey hit my nostrils and my stomach growled loudly. Tom snickered, and I punched him in the arm.

“It’s like, not even 6 AM yet, dude. How long has your mother been up?”

Diana’s voice sounded from below. “Birds went in the oven at 4:30.” She came into view as we reached the bottom few steps, standing in the living room doorway, wearing a Christmas apron over a fluffy green robe. “This lot is not exactly patient when it comes to food, sad to say. Happy Christmas, Maude. And you too, son of mine. Treats are all laid out…grab a handful and come on in and see what Father Christmas brought for our darling girl. Or our tiny whirling dervish, which is more fitting for today.”

We were the last ones down, everyone else seated either on one of the couches or on the floor, all pajama-clad. A group shout of ‘Happy Christmas’ ensued, and I felt like I was starring in the British version of A Christmas Story, which was amusing until I realized that I was the prime candidate for pulling a Ralphie and saying fuck. Tom and I sat on the couch facing the fireplace, next to Dave and Emma. Sarah and Ansh were on the floor, helping Saachi with her gifts, among which were puzzles, books, various stuffed creatures, and an iPad. Sarah noticed me staring at it, not realizing it was with awe.

“I know, I know…we’re going to limit screen time, but we just think there’s so much for her to learn…”

I blinked, slowly comprehending what her comment meant. “Oh, sorry, Sarah…not why I was gawking. I just really, really love the design of Apple stuff. It’s like high art…flawless, seamless, feels as if it’s an extension of you when you hold it.” Tom chuckled, and I elbowed him in the ribs. “The kid stuff…no clue. But I guess I need to GET a clue.”

Emma shrieked. “OH MY GOD, MAUDE, ARE YOU PREGNANT?”

My brain short-circuited, and I realized Tom hadn’t been kidding about them thinking that if I fainted, and he graciously jumped in to do damage control.

“Christ, Em. It’s too early for that decibel level. No, she’s not.” He turned to me, silently asking if I thought it acceptable to discuss our plans. Though it made me incredibly nervous, it being said out loud, and the fact that it would now be obvious if we weren’t successful, it was my own carelessness that had opened this particular can of worms, so I nodded for him to continue. “Or I should say, not yet. We’re going to start trying soon, once I’m done filming, most likely.”

Within seconds I found myself being hugged and kissed by all of them in succession, with the exception of James, who simply said ‘jolly news’ but remained seated, drinking a glass of milk. Saachi rescued me by stating that all her Father Christmas gifts had been opened and now it was time to see what we’d all gotten for her. Tom went to the tree to retrieve our gifts, and she followed him back to the couch and climbed into his lap, tearing open the first one before she was fully seated. It was a giraffe-printed T-shirt with a cartoon giraffe on the front, munching on some leaves.

“Oh, a giraffe! Look, Mummy!” She held the shirt up. “It’s beautiful!”

Next came matching pants, sweatshirt, and sneakers. Tom saved the best for last, and when she removed the paper and saw a plain cardboard box she gazed up at him. “I do like boxes very much, Uncle Tommy. Thank you.”

The room erupted in laughter, and I reached out to help her open it. When she saw what was inside she gasped, reached inside and pulled out the eighteen-inch high plush giraffe I’d found for her. Unlike most, its proportions were correct, which she noticed immediately. “Oh, he’s just like a REAL giraffe.” She turned to her parents. “I have my very own real-like giraffe. His name is Charlie, and we’re going to be best friends.” Snuggling him to her chest, which was adorable because he was so giant, she turned back to me. “Thank you, Auntie Maude. I love you now.” And with that, she hopped off Tom’s lap and onto mine, hugging me tightly, Charlie between us. As I returned the embrace, the fragility of her, the smallness, this little person, putting her trust in me was incredibly overwhelming and I found myself both struggling not to cry and beaming like an idiot.

She left me soon after when Ansh said her iPad was ready to use, and the rest of us began to open our presents. There was no rhyme or reason to it, other than Diana matching gifts with each individual and piling them nearby. Tom and I were lost in our own little world, choosing to open our presents to each other before ones from family. He insisted that I go first, and I argued, but he smiled that smile and I had no choice but to give in.

The first was a team Jersey, navy blue, and I wondered if he’d lost his fucking mind until I unfolded it and saw my name on the front left breast in white, with the number 31 smack in the center. The back was the same, but across the top over the number was ‘TEAM HIDDLESTON’. I stared at him, and he grinned.

“That’s your team jersey. We’ve all got one. The number is…”

“My birthday.”

He nodded. “Yes. Your birthday.”

“All the swear words.”

His head tilted. “What?”

I raised my left hand, palm towards him. “That’s me using profanity without using profanity.”

“Oh, I like that. Here, do this one next.” He handed me large, flat object, heavier than I expected. I removed the wrapping, and realized it was a frame. Inside was a poster. A movie poster. The Matrix. One of my very favorite films. And when I finally really LOOKED at it, I noticed that there were signatures. Three of them. Keanu Reeves, Carrie-Anne Moss, and Laurence Fishburne.

“Thomas. Are these real? They can’t be real. Are they REAL?”

He nodded again, chuckling and licking his lips.

“ALL THE SWEAR WORDS TIMES A MILLION. How did you…my god, this is AMAZING. You are amazing. Thank you. Wow. I cannot EVEN.”

There was one more for me, a small item, the size and shape of a CD case. I peeled back the paper, and there I was, mid-song, from Hawaii karaoke. Down at the bottom was my name, with the words ‘Back to Black’ under it, and a logo. Skrillex. My mouth dropped open. “Dude. What. Is. This.”

“That’s you. From Kauai, doing Back to Black. Remastered by Skrillex. If you’ll look at the back you’ll see he did a remix for you as well.”

“NO HE DID NOT.”

Tom laughed. “Oh yes he did. Shall we listen to it now?”

I threw my arms around him. “Hiddleston, you are so thoughtful and kind and sweet and I love you, you bastard.” He hugged me back, and I pulled away. “But no, we’ll listen to it later. You have to open your stuff now. Plus I don’t think I want present company to hear me singing about a dude keeping his dick wet.”

“Excellent point. In addition, your voice does things to me…”

“Yes. Duly noted. Later. Anyway. Open the giant box first.”

I’d put all the Jurassic Park toys inside a single box, because I felt if he saw one it would be like he’d seen them all and let’s face it, there’s nothing quite like a box full of toys just waiting for you to love them. He peeled back the paper, popped the tape, lifted the flaps and the expression he wore when he realized what was inside filled me with such joy I thought I’d burst. He turned to me in disbelief.

“How did you…where did you…are these really…” He removed the electronic T-Rex from the box. “IT IS. ORIGINAL.” The rest followed suit quickly, and he placed them gently on the floor after giving them the once-over, alternating between grinning, giggling, and shaking his head. “Maude. It’s like I’m a kid again. On Christmas. This is incredible. Thank you.” With that, he kissed me, and it went on long enough for Sarah to feel the need to tell us to get a room already.

We laughed, blushing, and I decided to fess up. “I can’t take all the credit, you know. Your mom made me a list of what she could remember you having. All I did was find the stuff on eBay.”

He pinched my cheek. “Yes, but you’re the one who thought to do it.” He glanced at Diana. “Thanks, Mum. You’re becoming a regular Sneaky Pete, aren’t you?” She nodded, and I pointed to the other box, smaller than the first.

“Dude, open it. I can’t stand waiting another second.”

Of course he removed the paper at a snail’s pace just to torture me, and then pretended to not know how to get the lid off properly. His face lit up like a thousand suns when he saw the fedora.

“My very own Indiana Jones fedora. I hope you realize I’m going to where this everywhere we go forever and ever from this day forward.” As he lifted it out of the box with the intent of putting it on, I figured I should draw his attention to what he was actually holding. I reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“You might want to take a gander at the inside before you wear it.”

His puzzled gaze met my mildly impatient one, and he flipped it over.

“My god. Oh my god. OH. MY. GOD.” He stood, hat in his hand, his last comment so loud that everyone was staring at him. Emma snorted.

“Tom. It’s a hat. It’s lovely. Pipe down, won’t you?”

Tom shook his head. “It’s not just a hat. It’s a fedora signed by Harrison Ford. Indiana Jones.”

I tugged on his robe but he didn’t notice, so I stood, pausing to pull out a framed letter I’d hidden under extra tissue paper in the bottom of the box. He read it quickly, and when I saw his Adam’s apple bob I knew he was holding back a sob. A deep breath followed, then he spoke.

“It’s a note from Harrison. It says ‘Tom – Steve told me how much Indy means to you, but what really sold me was the story from your fiancée about you cutting off your sister’s braid and using it as a bullwhip. Here’s a hat. Wore it for the Last Crusade. You do good work, kid. Keep it up and you might be able to buy a real, actual bullwhip someday. – Harrison’.”

He sat back down, hat in one hand, frame in the other, staring at them both as his siblings and their significant others came over to get a better look. I sat as well, and as I did so he looked up at me.

“You did this. For me. How? How did you pull this off? I would have never expected this, for him to send one of the fedoras he actually wore. I…my god…my mind. So completely, utterly blown.”

I grinned. “I am tenacious and don’t take no for an answer.” He laughed. “Actually, I had lots of help. Friend here, client there, Steven Spielberg, and here we are. You like it, then?”

“It’s the best present…and it has a deeper meaning than me just being a huge fan, because of how we met, and what I said, and…I love you.”

My grin widened and I patted him on the shoulder. “I know.”

He roared, catching on to my Star Wars reference, and I joined in, Saachi finally looking up from her iPad to comment.

“I want a funny hat next year, please.”

Everyone laughed at that, and once the giddiness wore off it was back to the matter at hand. We’d gotten Diana a set of eight mugs, two tote bags and four T-shirts with her art printed on them, which she marveled at and said she finally felt like she might actually be a genuine artist. For Em and Dave we’d purchased a couples spa weekend, and for Sarah and Ansh we’d arranged for a date night out to see a show and spend the night at a five-star hotel in London, grandma set as the babysitter.

Diana put together a beautiful photo album that included pictures of Tom as a child, as well as other family shots for us, and she’d done a painting on canvas of Tom and I on the red carpet at the Cube gallery. And, as predicted, there was my Christmas sweater, bright blue with snowmen on the front. It was actually kind of cute, and I thought it might even be fun to put it on our first married people Christmas cards next year. Then I shook my head and decided I was going insane and that I needed some more tea immediately. Before I had a chance to get up go grab it, Diana handed me a thick greeting card envelope.

“Here, love. This one’s from me, Emma and Sarah. Technically for you and Tom, but mainly for you.”

I opened it slowly, reading the brochure and the open-ended tickets and where to call to book dates, not quite understanding what I was looking at straight away. It was something I’d never thought of, never would have thought of on my own, but wished I had and was grateful someone else had done it for me. They’d arranged for a week-long vacation for us at the Fitzpatrick Castle Hotel. Which was in Ireland. In Dalkey, Ireland, to be exact. Where my father had been born and lived until he met my mother and moved to the US. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t speak. The idea of seeing where he’d grown up, walking the streets he’d walked, visiting the bar his family owned…MY family owned? I didn’t know. He’d cut all ties with them, likely at my mother’s insistence, and that’s all I knew. Did he have siblings? Were his parents still alive? He never spoke of family, not once that I could recall. I’d been so angry, so hurt, that it never occurred to me that they could be out there somewhere in the world. And that they were my family, too. Which led me to the next step…what of my mother’s family? They knew there was a child, that I existed, both sides, but did they know it was…me? Suddenly, and much to my surprise, I felt compelled to find out.

Diana was standing in front of me still, her face full of concern as I looked up at her.

“Maude, if that was too forward of us, I’m terribly sorry…we just thought you might want to, since you’re close by now…”

I passed the papers to Tom, who had been reading them over my shoulder, stood, and wrapped my arms around Diana, a muted ‘thank you’ spilling from my lips before I began to weep. Sarah and Emma made it a group hug, and I realized that while it would be wonderful to have my questions answered, it would be icing on the cake, as they say, because I’d already been blessed with a family, the people right there in that room, who had opened their lives and their hearts to me, because I loved their brother, their son, and he loved me. And what a miracle that was, especially on a day made for such things.

#your light in the mist #chapter 39

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