#winkman

omg Georgie 🥺 I always feel really bad when they're like "we could draw straws?" and he just accepts his fate :(

"Jesus you're children" hits so hard, because like... they are, but in the show they're more like 15/16/17 ish. But then this guy takes half a look at them and immediately says that they're kids like they're meant to be in the books and they shouldn't be in Winkman's place because they're children and now I'm just repeating myself I think but idk it just ughhhhh

I really wish Lucy had finished her little rant at lockwood about how "at the centre of lockwood and co is you, and at the centre of you is-" because there was a perfect opportunity to call him a hollow boy

lockwood go to therapy

omg Flo calling George Georgie

George getting more and more angry and antsy every second is breaking my heart

I love that even when he's trying to be undercover lockwood can't help but swagger around

lockwood and his flare for the dramatic (see what I did there), he really loves explosions doesn't he (just like his wife)

lockwood's hair after his hood gets yanked off is hilarious

winkman is an arsehole and he deserves everything that's coming to him

omg lockwood honey just breathe you'll be okay I'll give you a big hug I promise

why can't someone hold me the way lockwood and Lucy hold each other when they're panicky and trying to escape winkman

Georgie no

"You're that tosser with the golden blade" yes he is luce

don't fucking call him Anthony you prick

lockwood stop throwing things you're not going to hit anyone with them

I love that we get to see lockwood properly fighting because everyone always talks about his sword fighting skills and now we can see how flashy he really is

I also love that Lucy just whacks golden blade with a bit of wood to protect her husband

I swear to god if golden blade doesn't stop punching lockwood imma throw hands more than Lucy

lockwood stop jumping off of things you're not a cat with nine lives

Flo I love you for being Georgie's friend but why did you cycle away

how come nobody in the furnaces reception area saw George

disappointed in the lack of see-throughness of lockwood's shirt after they climb out of the thames

now he's just a sad puppy covered in water after his wife pushed him when he thought he might get a kiss

Everything--ever single thing--has gone wrong with this cook. He and Jesse need to deliver 5 more pounds of the stuff in less than 24 hours and... there's just no way. Tuco is going to eat them for breakfast, lunch, *and* dinner.

Walter stumbles out of the RV, slamming the door behind him. He made his way to the lawn chair outside and heaved his tired body into it. Another blast of thunder rang through the air as he covered his face with his chemical-smelling hands.

He hears the RV door open and sighs, knowing Jesse is going to want to know what the hell is wrong with him, but more than that, what are they going to do about it? Walter doesn't know. They're completely fucked as far as he's concerned.

But when Jesse approaches him, they share a glance--a surprisingly knowing glance. A sort of intimate glance? Like they're in this together and there's nothing they can do about it. If one of them is going down, so is the other. There's something kind of peaceful about that, actually.

They weren't even arguing in the RV before Walter had his fit and marched outside. They didn't need to--they're in trouble, they know that, there's not much they can do about it, so why bother.

Instead of finding the other lawn chair, Jesse plops down in front of Walter. Walter rolls his eyes; typical Jesse, he can't ever seem to sit like a normal person. He shakes his head but doesn't protest as Jesse lights up a cigarette. He already has lung cancer, what does it matter at this point?

Neither of them move as the first sign of rain starts to fall. Jesse just moves closer to Walter, resting his head against Walter's leg as he smokes. Something in Walter drives him to put his hand on Jesse's shoulder. Perhaps to comfort him? Walter doesn't know. Jesse doesn't look up at him as he meets Walter's hand with his own.

They weren't even arguing in the RV before Walter had his fit and went outside. They didn't need to--they're in trouble, they know that, there's not much they can do about it, so why bother.

Walter wants to say something. Anything. But instead, he grips Jesse's shoulder harder. Jesse finally does look up at him, and Walter nods. He slightly pats his knee, as if to indicate... something. They're both a little shocked by this, but it makes sense. On this day, this hour, this moment, it makes sense.

Jesse slowly, hesitantly, but purposefully gets up and sits on Walter's knee. He wraps his arms around Walter's shoulders for leverage. They make the weirdest eye contact imaginable. Walter considers himself mostly immune to Jesse's charming good looks and ridiculously blue eyes, but apparently that immunity has worn off.

Jesse is, understandably, still unhinged about Drew Sharp. Walt gives a half-hearted speech about “running the business their way” and soul-searching after they’ve made all their money, but he knows he's not getting through to Jesse. It's so frustrating to feel like Jesse is slipping further and further away from him when Jesse is the only person who remains faithful and loyal. The only person he can truly trust.

"Listen, why don't I finish this up? Why don't you... why don't you go on home, hmm?" Walt says. Maybe if Jesse had more time to himself, some peace and quiet, he'll calm down. Walt’s starting to see that’s not likely, however. He may not ever be the same. Walt is almost certain he at least used to possess as much empathy as Jesse has, but he can’t actually remember a time when he did. It’s sort of disconcerting.

“You sure?” Jesse asks.

“Absolutely,” Walt says. “Yeah. I’ll take care of this.” He claps Jesse one more time on the shoulder and gets up to go back into the tent. But Jesse grabs his hand and causes Walt to abruptly turn around. Walt is a little shocked by this gesture--Jesse rarely touches him; in fact it seems like he goes out of his way not to most of the time.

“Mr. White… I can’t go home--what's the point? I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I want to find Todd and I want to--ugh, I want to strangle that piece of shit!”

“I know. I know you do, and I've told you over and over again--we will deal with Todd."

"Oh, yeah? How is that? How are we going to deal with this nazi asshole who just shot a kid right in front of us? We have to talk to Drew Sharp’s parents, Mr. White. We have to do something."

"Saul is going to handle all of that, don't worry. That's why we pay him, Jesse. To deal with things like this. And Todd is not going to go unpunished. I promise you."

Jesse does not look convinced. Walt gets it--Jesse has a certain affinity for children; he can relate to their innocent young souls, or something. Walt is not made of stone--he mourns the senseless death of the kid, too, but he's become numb. It's just easier to be numb than to think about all the carnage that has fallen around him. Because of him, some might say. Walt disagrees, but that's another subject entirely.

Perhaps giving in to Walt's attempt at compassion, Jesse sinks into the couch next to him. Walt pats Jesse on the shoulder again; Jesse looks up at him, a somber expression on his face. His eyes are wet with silent tears.

"I just... don't know how we're going to move on from this," Jesse says softly.

"I know, but I will handle it. Come on, don't you trust me?" Walt asks.

Jesse shakes his head. "I don't know, Mr. White. I want to. But it just keeps happening, yo. Everywhere we go, someone dies. I can’t… I can’t do it. I can't keep doing this.”

Walt’s heart sinks a little. Again, he wishes he had the gift of comfort, but he’s never been very good at that. So instead he sits down with Jesse and awkwardly puts his arm around him. To his surprise, Jesse sighs and puts his head on his shoulder. Again, Jesse rarely shows any signs of physical affection towards him, but Walt isn't going to deny him of it. Jesse seems to need it now more than ever. The weight of Jesse’s head on his chest, his steady breathing, the warmth of his body… Walt feels like his heart is beating a little faster now. He tries not to think about that too much.

"Jesse... listen to me," Walt says in a low, controlled voice. “We've been through a lot together this past year, haven't we? And with everything that happens, I've managed to keep us moving forward."

"Yeah... I guess," Jesse says, sniffing a little.

"We got out of the Tuco situation, remember? My plan worked."

"Yeah, but you kinda got us into that one, too," Jesse points out. "I know you went all Rambo or whatever on him when I was in the hospital, but still... you got us mixed up with him in the first place."

Walt nods; he'd concede Jesse the point. "Okay, well, how about killing those dealers before they could kill you first?"

"Yeah, but I pretty much repaid you for that one, yo," Jesse says. He squeezed Walt's hand for emphasis. "Don't you think?"

Walt nods, and sort of feels bad for making Jesse think about Gale yet again.

"Yes, you did. Of course you did, Jesse. And I can never thank you enough for that.”

Walt is quiet for a moment. He doesn't want to lose this momentum they've been building up together, so he continues. "The point is... you can trust me. Saul will deal with the boy's parents and Mike will figure out what to do with Todd. We can overcome this. And I want you by my side when we do--I can't do this without you."

Jesse chuckles. "That's bullshit. You can get any asshole off the street and teach him what you've taught me. No big deal."

"That's not true. And even if it were, I wouldn't want to. It's you and me, Jesse. It's always been you and me."

Jesse looks at him again, his glistening blue eyes shining in the harsh light of the living room. Walt knows firsthand how much Jesse can get away with, with those eyes of his. How charming he can be when he really wants to. Walt admires the ease of Jesse's good looks.

“One more thing… one more reason to trust me--I got you into rehab, Jesse. I found you in that disgusting hellhole you were in and I picked you up and I brought you out of there. But first I held you in my arms, remember? I held you while you cried. And I made sure you would be okay. Doesn't that mean anything?" He's not trying to lay it on so thick, but Walt is getting a little emotional just thinking about it. The way Jesse clung to him that day, never wanting to let go. Walt's shirt was drenched in Jesse's anguished tears by the time he finally got him out of that godforsaken house.

"Yeah... I remember," Jesse says. He finds Walt's hand again and lightly intertwines their fingers together. Walt wonders where this is coming from, but he doesn’t want it to stop. In fact, just like everything else in his life lately, he needs more.

"I don't know what would have happened if you didn't take me out of there, yo. Honestly, I don’t even know how I ended up there in the first place. It’s all a blur."

“Well, that’s all over now. You’re safe, and I will always do my best to make sure you stay that way. That’s all I want, Jesse. That’s all I want you to know.”

“I get it,” Jesse says, but there’s no hint of the usual annoyance in his voice. Instead his voice is calm and unwavering.

Jesse lets go of Walt’s hand and Walt questions why he immediately feels so intensely disappointed, but Jesse doesn’t alter his gaze off Walt’s face. Instead, he gently removes Walt’s glasses and puts them on the coffee table. Walt is so moved by this seemingly innocuous gesture that it renders him speechless. And apparently Jesse has decided they don’t need words, anyway.

As Jesse leans in, Walt grabs his neck--maybe a little more forcefully than necessary, but god, in the moment in between Jesse looking at him and then meeting his lips, Walt decides he needs this. He needs Jesse, and more than that, he wants Jesse.

Jesse groans a little as Walt crashes into his lips. It’s as though if Walt doesn’t immediately claim Jesse as his own, this will all come to an abrupt end. And Walt can’t have that.

After a moment of desperate kissing, Jesse roughly pushes Walt back. “Jesus, Mr. White, you kiss like a fuckin’ bull in a china shop. Slow down, yo. I’m not… I’m not going anywhere.” He sounds so vulnerable (albeit somewhat annoyed), and Walt is finding himself captivated by this kid he’s taught so much. It makes him feel... defenseless. Exposed. He’s so used to feeling the exact opposite towards Jesse that this is really throwing him off his game. But Walt kind of enjoys the sense of being out of control for once. Especially with Jesse.

“Show me,” Walt says softly, almost in a whisper. “Teach me.”

Walt can’t prove it but he swears Jesse’s eyes get even bluer as he leans in again and places a gentle kiss on Walt’s lips. He moves even closer to him, nearly in his lap, and the tenderness of Jesse’s delicate kisses makes Walt weak in his already bad knees. If he wasn’t sitting down, he’d probably be falling to the ground right about now. And although they both probably smell like the chemicals they're using to cook, Walt can't help but appreciate Jesse’s natural scent as the kissing intensifies. Somehow the smell of tobacco on Jesse’s breath and the taste of saltiness from the chips he ate for lunch is only turning Walt on more.

“Come here,” Walt murmurs. “Come closer.” As always, Jesse obeys. He faces Walt on his lap, straddling him, his knees buried in the couch. He wraps his arms around Walt’s neck as he kisses him even more fiercely, while still keeping it soft and steady. Walt takes Jesse's lead, melting into the kisses, not being aggressive or rough; just enjoying how Jesse can't seem to get enough of him.

Walt moans as Jesse’s tongue finds his own. He moves his hand under Jesse’s thin black t-shirt and strokes his back as their lips continue to meet, over and over again, almost uncompromisingly. His back is so warm, and Walt can’t help but sink his fingertips into Jesse’s lean muscles, slightly scraping his skin with his nails. Jesse gasps and stops kissing Walt for just a moment, and Walt gets another look into those moody ocean eyes.

“Mr. White…” Jesse whispers, and Walt gets it. They should stop doing this. They never should have started in the first place. Why are they even doing it? To distract themselves? There's a million other ways to accomplish that, none that involve sticking their tongues in each other's mouths. This way does seem to be the most effective for the time being, though.

“I know, Jesse. It’s okay. I want this, too."

This seems to be what Jesse needs to hear, because his lips make their way back to Walt’s. Walt bites Jesse’s lip just slightly. Jesse groans a little.

"Sorry... you just taste so good," Walt says into Jesse's ear. He licks Jesse's earlobe and enjoys how Jesse trembles under the tender touch of Walt's tongue.

When Walt returns to his waiting lips, Jesse makes this humming noise that goes straight to Walt’s groin. He moves his hands down to Jesse’s hips; his pants seem to fit him better these days but Walt is still able to run his fingertips over the tender curves of his hip bones. Jesse gasps into Walt’s mouth. Walt’s heart is positively racing now and all he wants to do is lay Jesse down and explore every inch of his slight, diminutive body.

Walt loses track of time as they keep coming together. All he knows now is Jesse's lips, his tongue searching his mouth, his fingertips brushing Walt's neck, his shoulders, his collarbone.

Jesse finally pulls away, which is probably a smart idea because Walt’s about to consume him whole if they don’t stop soon.

They both try to calm down and steady their ragged breaths before either of them figure out something to say. Or if they even need to say anything at all.

Jesse manages to speak first. “I think I’ll go ahead and take off, man. Um… Look. I’ll be at home. For the night. If like… you want to stop by or whatever.” Jesse is so cute when he can’t even meet Walt’s eyes.

“Good,” Walt says, nodding. “I might just take you up on that.” Might? Walt has never looked forward to anything so much in his entire 51 years. He can just imagine pulling up to Jesse’s house, finding his way to his bedroom, slowly undressing him… but he’s getting ahead of himself. Maybe steady heads will prevail by then; maybe either or both of them will have come to their senses. But from the way Jesse’s gazing at him now--and the heat coming from Jesse’s jeans that grew stiff while he was on top of Walt--he knows that’s probably not a possibility. He hopes it’s not a possibility.

“Yo, that’s cool. See you later. Oh, and thanks for finishing up here,” Jesse says. Walt just nods, and watches as Jesse gets his things, takes one last look at Walt, and hesitantly leaves the house, closing the door behind him.