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theblueflower05 · 2 years ago

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Crawling Back to You

(Part Two of First Love/Late Spring)

A/N: So like, I’m really excited that you guys seem to be digging this story. I was hesitant about it just because there’s so much of my own Na’vi/Metkayina lore thrown in there. Thank you for all of the kind response.

Word Count: 8k+

Warnings: From here on out, this story will be extremely explicit. Minors DNI. If Aged Up! Neteyam isn’t your thing, please exit to your left. Let’s all respect each other's boundaries, please.

Angst. Self deprecation. Alcohol consumption. Smut. Mutual masturbation. Fingering(fem receiving). Nipple sucking. Breeding kink. Scent marking. Public sex(if you squinttttt)

Summary: Neteyam returns from his Motnaui and isn’t in much of a celebratory mood when he realizes that he’s scrapped any chance of having a mate for Fertility season…or has he? Neteyam x Reader

Series Masterlist(all parts can be found here)

Previous< First Love/Late Spring

Next>: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

Secret's that I’ve held in my heart

Are harder to hide then I thought.

Maybe I just wanna be yours- Artic Monkeys

The brilliant Pandoran sun beats down on the crystal blue waters, fragmenting into bursts of light under the surface of the waves.

The Motnaui is intense, Neteyam’s lean frame isn't made for the open ocean but over the months as he trained intensely with the Metkayina hunters, he gained muscle he didn't even realize his body could retain.

His shoulders are broader and thighs thicker. He can keep up with the clan, he can help row the boats without his arms giving out on him.

Neteyam hasn't felt this way since they had fled the safety of the forest. He’s useful again. He’s worked hard to regain his title of Hunter.

Warrior.

Brother of the people.

He sense’s it as they jump between the endless maze of isles. Hunting and sleeping on the beaches under the open night sky. Swapping stories around the small campfires.

They don't see him as an outsider anymore. No, he is Metkayina. All of the hunters treat him as such. Clapping his back. Embracing him tight. Sharing in the whopping joy as he makes a clean, merciful kill.

They listen to the Omaticayan legends he tells the and fill him in on the lore of the sea.

The four days out at open ocean are needed and he feels sure footed now. Knows that he will always have a place in Awa’atlu. He can't wait for Lo’ak to complete his Iknamaya next cycle, to get to feel this feeling of deep belonging. Of acceptance.

The tattoo forever etched into the the skin on his on his shoulder burns. Throbs all the way down his elbow, ends right above his wrist. The permanent swirling ink a symbol of his place among the reef.

His third birth is as beautiful as his second. He is a man, twice recognized.

Neteyam reminds himself of that fact as he sits down next to Tonowari one night. The stars are sparkling and the dimming light of the dying fire makes the hulking chief look larger than life.

Still, the younger man gathers his courage.

“I wish to mate with Y/N” Neteyam states firmly. He had been Olo’eyktan in training for over a decade back in the forest. He uses the voice he’d take on when speaking of important matters “I would like your blessing to do so, sir”

Their brothers and sisters in the hunt surround them. Either asleep at the late hour or lost to their own conversations.

Or maybe they just know not to interrupt this important exchange. They only listen in with peaked ears and envious hearts.

Tonowari’s features go stern, his strong brows pulling together “Before my T’smuke returned to the great mother, I promised her that I would always take care of her daughter as though she was my own. I love Y/N as I do my children. Do you understand that, Neteyam?”

Neteyam is nodding “Yes sir, of course”

“She is a good woman. A very important member of our community, if I allow this courtship I have to be certain that you will honor that. That you will honor her place among us, and be serious about what that means for your own”

Neteyam mules over the words, thinks he knows what they mean. He will be marrying into the royal family of the Metkayina. He will be bound by blood to the clans chief. His future children will have a claim to the title of Olo’eyktan or Tshaik, third in line should anything ever happen.

“I am very serious about her, I will work hard to give her all that she deserves. I will build us a Mauri to raise our family in. I will dedicate my life to her and the tribe” It is not a vow lightly made, Neteyam knows this.

He had never been one to be fickle about responsibility.

It’s only when the intense expression on the Olo’eyktans face shifts, a broad smile stretching across his mouth, that Neteyam feels his posture untense.

Tonowari claps him hard on the back and offers him the leather flask of strong liquor that the hunters pass amongst themselves-

“Then you have my blessing” Tonowari laughs as the younger Na’vi man almost chokes on the burn of the Kava.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When they return to the main island of Awa’atlu with their abundant catch they are greeted warmly by the clan. The giant horns are blown, drums play rhythmically. Children scream joyously and women dance scantly clad in ceremonial drab.

Its busy and blustering but there's only one thing on Neteyam's mind.

Only one person.

The same woman who had plagued him since his arrival all those months ago. You’re as elusive as the receding tide and he had become accustomed to having to look for you. To having to seek you out in a crowd, to go searching for you.

You hadn't seen him off and he hasn't spoken to you in many days. He misses you. It's an ache that he wants to soon remedy, that he knows he’ll never have to feel again. Not with Tonowari’s blessing fueling him.

Since he was young, Neteyam had wanted to be bonded.

He’d dreamt of sharing that special connection with another individual; the way that his parents did. He craved someone to cherish him, to take care of him and in return he’d do the same for them. He itched for a woman to braid his hair, to bear his children. To bury his cock in every night and wake up to every morning.

He was a simple man with a big heart and a lot of love to give. And he wanted to give it to you.

He just has to find you first.

Neteyam tries not to worry when he can't catch sight of your petite frame. Not one peek of your long hair or seafoam eyes. He couldn't scent the natural perfume of florally herbs that always seemed to surround you-

“Neteyam!” It’s Tuk.

She collides with him hard. Many years of being a climbing post for his siblings is the only reason he doesn't topple over. Is able to catch her mid air and hold her to his chest.

He’s greeted by his family-

And only a moment passes before he can notice that something is wrong.

It’s written all over Kiri’s face. In his mothers expressive eyes and the glances his father throws him as he embraces the Olo’eyktan from across the way. Even Lo’ak gives him something akin to a small glare.

“Whatever is going on, it will have to wait” Neteyam decides out loud, slowly lowering his baby sister to the ground. “I need to find Y/N, have any of you seen her?”

Kiri’s mouth opens and shuts, as though she’s trying to figure out what to say and it frays his nerves. His legs are antsy, burning with the need to run. To seek you out- still on the high of the hunt.

“I don't have time for this-”

“Brother, wait. It is about Y/N” Kiri grabs his elbow, keeping him still.

He doesn't like her tone.

Likes the expression on her face even less. She looks too serious, it doesn't suit her at all. Kiri had always been as airy as a tree sprite- carefree and bubbly.

Call it a gut feeling or the simple ability to read the room. He just knows whatever she’s about to tell him isnt going to be pleasant.

“What happened?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

His sister pulls him aside, into the mangrove tree’s and away from prying eyes and ears so that she can relay what she’d heard. Fill Neteyam in on what he’s missed.

He listens to every word…and they settle like stones in his stomach.

“Y/N thinks that you have accepted an offer of courtship from another woman”

“I didn't- I’d never!” Neteyam hisses in protest, shaking his head. It’s all one big misunderstanding. He has to make find you, shake these thoughts out of your head. Make you see-

“But you did,” Kiri replies firmly, her mouth pulled into a grim line.

She explains the meaning of the Lei’s.

The gravity of him accepting one from another female and Neteyam hasn't felt so small in many years. He’d been forced into adulthood early. Taken care of his siblings from a young age and then was thrust into the war with the RDA before he had even fully come out of adolescence. He was wise beyond his years, that’s what everyone had always told him.

He doesn’t feel that way now.

He’d fucked up, made a mistake that could very well cost him the future that he had worked so hard to secure since coming to the reefs-

And he hadn't even meant to! He’d been as naive as a baby, as ignorant to Metkayina traditions as an untrained child-

He wants to scream in frustration. Wants to kick the absolute shit out of himself. Instead he listens to his sister, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists.

You had been devastated. Heart broken. Wouldn't talk to anyone or come out to eat. Couldn’t stop crying-

“Enough” He pleads, he can't hear anymore of it. Guilt rises in his chest like bile.

Imagining what the last days had been like for you as he’d spend them having the time of his life, galivanting with other hunters. Getting drunk and having carefree fun-

“Kiri, what do I do?”

She sighs. It’s so rare to see her older brother like this. He’s always so solid. So strong and stable. It’s unnerving when he loses his composure. When his carefully built walls come down

She had known that the whole thing was a miscommunication and had tried along with Tsireya to convince you of that fact. But you wouldn't hear it, and avoided her at every turn.

You and her brother are both such stubborn dumb asses. Rubbing at her temples Kiri prays to Eywa for strength. Sully’s stick together.

“We fix this”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the evening eclipse starts and the sun disappears in the sherbert sky the beach lights up.

Bonfires roar, their flames tall and burning bright.

The air is filled with the smell of roasting Paokpak(island boar) and fish. Huge pots full of dishes that Neteyam had never seen line the long wooden table set up at the center of the celebration. Barrels of Kava have been brought out. The strongest of Metkayina liquors, brewed and stored for decades in airtight containers. Made from berries that are extremely hard to harvest.

This is a time for celebration, to gorge on the hard earned harvests the hunters have brought back. To celebrate the newly rited adults and prepare for the Fertility Season.

The beat of the drums is hypnotic. It's sexy and primal. It's a tune that all Na’vi know in their chest, one that their hips move to as if of their own accord.

Children play, Women sing, stories older then the briny deep are told. The air is electric; so full of magic and unity.

And yet, Neteyam is on edge.

He had been since his rude awakening earlier in the day. He’d spent his afternoon running around like an Austrapede with its head chopped off. Desperately trying to solve the issues that he hadn't meant to create.

After hunting down the culprit to all of this mess, a pretty lei made up of sunset orange lilies which he’d given to Tuk almost automatically after it’d been given to him, he returns it to its owner.

Seychelle is haughty. Rightly upset and shrilly confused as she takes the token of her affections back. Neteyam’s apology is poor and he knows it, he backs away before she can throw her drink in his face.

Tsireya had told him this was the only way to remedy the issue- to refuse the offer for courtship so that he could be open to be with another. The younger girl had been so relieved when he came to her, begging her to help him win back your affections.

“I knew you are a good man, that you don't have a mean spirit”

Tsireya is as eager as Neteyam to see her cousin happy. She doesn't think she could spend another night listening to your inconsolable weeping.

The last obstacle is the hardest.

You refuse to be anywhere near him. Are forced into the festivities because of your family standing, but pretend that Neteyam simply does not exist.

At every turn you evade him.

Sandwiching yourself between the hulking muscle of Ao’nung and Tonowari at the buffet table. Dancing in an enclosed circle of swaying women. Flitting away in a plume of smoke when he approaches you with your favorite ripe fruit in hand; leaving him standing there stupidly. Palms stained by the juice of the Lionberry as he squeezes it in frustration.

You’re hauntingly beautiful in the firelight.

He hates the fact that he’s not the only who notices it. The way the other males consume you with their carnivorous gazes makes him sick. His fingers clench and his knuckles crack of their own accord.

Long dark hair pours down your back in bouncing waves. The top that you wear clings to you like a second skin; the pearls and seashells glittering in the warm hue of the flames. Your own Lei, pink and pristine, is still resting on your throat. Many intricate bracelets and anklets clink as you walk and he cant take his eyes off of the way that the back of your tweng sits on your pert ass-

“Go talk to her” His dad suggests gruffly as he watches his son watch you. It’s getting hard to stomach at this point, all of that longing palpable and souring the atmosphere.

“She doesn't want to speak to me” Neteyam mutters. Trying not to feel too bad for himself. And failing.

Neteyam hadn't thought his return from Motonui would be like this. He’d envisioned a lot more kissing, and alot less moping.

“Woman aren't as complicated as they seem, son. You don't need some grand gesture-”

“Says the man who tamed Toruk after his first fight with his mate” Neteyam interrupts and Jake snorts at his unusual outburst.

His eldest son is usually so very put together- it's entertaining to see that a woman could bring out this side of him.

“I have nothing to offer her. Back home in the forest I could have given her- everything” Neteyam sighs as he admits what's been on his mind since he’d begun pursuing you “There’s no reason why she’d want to be with me, I’m aware of that”

Jake pulls his son close.

His first born. The apple of his eye. Neteyam was good to his core, and anyone who knew him could see it. Jake was so proud of him and wondered if this lack of self confidence came from the fact that he probably didn’t tell the boy of that fact enough.

“All that girl wants from you is reassurance. That’s all you need to give her, everything else will come with time. If she wanted to mate for status she would’ve done it long before you got here, kid. ”

Jake had been shitty at motivational speeches since his stint in the military. You would think his time as reigning Olo’eyktan would have given him some kind of skills. But still, his words are a bit clunky. But sincere.

After a moment, Neteyam gulps at the Kava in his hand. Drains his cup and then squares his shoulders before he’s off.

Eyes set unyieldingly on the prize.

Jake grins. If a good ol’ pep talk doesn't do it- liquid courage sure will.

You’re half heartedly participating in the conversations going on around you, just distracted enough that Neteyam’s able to stalk over. Unnoticed until he’s standing right infront of you-

“Y/N” His voice is firm, he wonders if you know how hard it is for him to keep it as such. “I see you”

Up close he can see how swollen your eyes are. How exhausted you look. You just nod, muttering out a quiet “I see you” in response.

Everything about your body language screams that you want to be left alone. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your ears tipped low. Your tail curls around your ankle and your nose keeps scrunching up.

He wishes he could let you be,

But you make him selfish. You bring out a side of him that wants to take. Has to be satiated or he’s going to lose his fucking mind.

“I must speak with you” He states his intentions, clear. Ignores the way Ronal glares daggers at the side of his head.

“I don’t think-”

“It will only take a moment. But I ask for the privacy to explain myself to you. If after you hear my words you still do not wish to talk to me I will respect that”

You glance at your family before responding to him. Sharing a look with both Ronal and Tsireya. Your cousin smiles encouragingly, your aunt gives a barley tolerant tilt of her head.

You sigh and nod, but step away from his hand when he offers it to you. It's an obvious rejection, but Neteyam tries not to dwell on it. His tail flicks anxiously behind him.

“We may speak in private. Come” your voice is low, before you begin to lead him away from the festivities. Down the beach until the firelight is in the distance and the beat of the drum is a low hum on the howling wind.

The storms will start soon. The sea is choppy, the clouds rolling in and the breeze cool.

It’s hard to find privacy on the sandy shores, intertwined couples can be found scattered along the waters edge. Lips locked. Speaking lowly and intimately.

Neteyam is pretty sure that one of his fellow hunters has his mate twisted into a mating press- if her breathless whimpers are anything to go by.

He avoids their writhing bodies, ignores the way it makes his own core tingle.

Fertility Season is all but here. The entire clan falling under its low boiling energy.

All he could think about as he had been out on the open ocean; is that this cycle he wouldn't have to spend it alone.

He’s not sure that is the case anymore.

After more walking, completely in silence, the two of you come to a mostly desolate area. Quiet and still, as private as it’s going to get.

You stare out at the cresting waves and Neteyam knows he needs to say something, anything. But all he can to is look at you.

At the way that the moonlight illuminates your silhouette, at the dusting of turquoise bioluminescent freckles that are scattered across your nose.

“I-Um-” You start, and that wont do. He cuts you off quick.

It is only him who needs to explain himself. “Let me start by apologizing to you. I am so sorry, Y/N”

You appear as though you’re going to start crying and if you do, he’ll lose all his carefully cultivated cool.

So he presses on.

“I had no idea that accepting Lei’s was a courting symbol here. I don't know how to make you believe me but if I had know I would’ve never-” Neteyam lets out a long shaky breath “I can only swear to you that in the future I will be more mindful of your clans traditions”

Time ticks by. The moon shines and the waves crash against the shore.

“Our clan” you break the silence, your voice gentle and melodic. “You passed your Iknimaya. It is your clan as much as mine”

He wants so desperately to hold you. He has for months, but the need is almost unbearable at this very moment.

“If I have lost my chance. Please, tell me now” it’s a plea. Because it hurts to look at you. If he can not have you- if you do not want him, he will accept it. Somehow. But being alone with you like this and not knowing is killing him. “I will…I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to”

You scoff, not looking away from him. Refusing to meet his eye, still staring blanky at the waves. “You act as though I am the one who accepted someone else’s offer. I have never wanted you to leave me alone, Neteyam”

“I’m sorry” Does he sound as idiotic as he feels? He surely hopes not.

“You already said that”

“Please, look at me”

“I can’t” you whisper- hissing at him warningly when he outstretches his hands “I- I don't want to ever feel like this again. You need to tell me what you want from me because I do not know. I will get confused again, if you do not tell me what we are doing”

He can tell by your expression that you are serious, and even so. He cant fucking believe it. Had he failed at courtship so immensely that you really don't know? He’s stuck in his head for a moment too long.

It makes you anxious, makes you back even further away.

“Please-” He’s all but begging, yet

you avoid his touch again and it feels like blades.

Your shrill warning hiss rings in his ears.

He returns it with a snarl of his own when you continue to refuse to let him touch you. Can't help it, the need to rebuff all of this uncertainty around the union that is so special to him is strong.

He grips the top of your arms, his long fingers holding your biceps.

You finally look at him. Your round eyes wide and vulnerable. Filled with unshed tears and unspoken questions.

“I want to mate with you” He starts because if you need to hear it all, word for word, then he’d tell you. “I want to build my life here with you by my side. I want us to have a home that will never know war-”

A tear rolls down the swell of your cheek.

“I-I want you to choose to be with me” He swallows, the lump in his throat getting bigger, higher. Threatening to choke his vocal cords “I will be good to you. If you let me”

His family had always required him to be the rock. Had leaned on him to take on the role of caretaker, he had had to keep it together. Keep them together. It wasn't easy for him to break open like this. It went against his very nature, all that self preservation he’d learned early.

But you need this. And he thinks he might too.

“Neteyam-”

“I will ask you again. If I have lost my chance tell me now”

Have mercy on him.

“I understand if you want to be with someone who can offer you more. I won’t fault you for it” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to tack that on. Why the self deprecating thoughts manifest their way into words that hurt for him to speak “I don’t have much here. But I’ll build it, for you”

Your muscles tense under his palms and he prepares himself for the rejection. The physical blow of it-

But then, you melt. Loosen. Your entire body sags fully into his grip. That pinched expression on your face slips away. Your full lips part and your eyes soften, brows furrowing together.

You look at him like he is something precious. Like you can see him- and he thinks you might be the first one who ever has.

He’d known it in his bones. Since the day he’d arrived. Since he’d first spotted your face in the crowd.

“Oel ngati kameie” you whisper, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “Oel ngati kamei, Neteyam. I see-”

He leans heavily into your hand. His forehead clunking against yours, pressing hard. The contact stings, but its welcome. He needs it.

He needs.

“I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what you have or don’t have. You know I don’t.” you murmur urgently, he can feel the words against against his skin.

When you press a whisper light, tentative kiss against the sharp of his cheekbone, something snaps. Something that had been strained and barely held together just breaks.

His control, he realizes as he crowds you.

As his fingers dig into your arms and he presses the line of his body against your own firmly.

You’re so soft everywhere. So much smaller than him. He’s all lean muscle, tall and hard. You’re pliable skin, a layer of blubber to keep you warm in the deep. So different from the women he’d grown up with. Your hips are wide, thighs pillowy.

You’d give him healthy children. His hindbrain howls.

When he captures your lips he hopes you realize that there’s no going back. That this is until death. He’d go to his grave before he was robbed of this again.

You gasp, sweet and small, and he eats it. Consumes all of the air in your lungs. You’re good at holding your breath anyway, right?

“Neteyam” you whine, pulling away, your lips wet and your pupils wide. You’re shaky, already a bit disoriented and he wants to keep you. Protect you. He’ll give you anything if you just keep looking at him like that.

“Are you ok-”

You reach up on the tips of your toes, slamming your lips back against his before he can finish his words.

Your hands tangle into his braids as you try to gain traction, pull him down to your level. Get a better hold on him.

Its intense, dizzying. You kiss him like you’re dying and maybe you are. Maybe you’ve been slowly dying since he first got here. Every moment that you hadn’t been able to be held by him had killed you- a slow torturous death.

You drag him down. Do you know he’d follow you anywhere? Under the waves, down onto the soft sand. He cups the back of your head, shelters your neck as he bullies his thin hips between your dense thighs and pressed you against the ground.

The months worth of tension isn't released gently, because it can't be.

The kisses are bruising. Wandering hands and desperate tongues. It’s carnal, Fertility season making both of your minds cloudy as you try to dig into each others flesh.

Nothing is close enough.

With a whine, your fingers slip under Neteyam's multilayered choker. Using it as leverage to tug on as you thrust your hips up violently. The heat at the apex of your legs grinding against his covered erection dangerously.

“Ah-” he gasps wetly “Easy, Narlor. Easy”

“Sorry” you simper, panting. Trying to get a hold on the feelings rushing through you. One hand gripping his necklace, the other slipping into the back of his hair, brushing the nape of his neck “I want- I dream about it all the time”

Fire rushes down Neteyam’s spine, both at your words and your feather light touch to his kuru. He wonders if you touched yourself after those dreams. If you had to take the edge off like he had. He shudders at the thought-

You’re kissing at his neck again, at all of that sensitive skin under his braids, near his ears.

Your quick touches are everywhere. Rushing all over his body. Manicured nails scraping over his skin-

“Ugh,” he warbles out as your curious hand disappears under his tweng.

Its a tight fit as your fingers dance along his hard cock. Delicate and teasingly light. He’s going to come all over himself like some inexperienced teenager that had never gotten a taste of pussy before if you don't. Slow. Down.

“Tell me about those dreams of yours. What’d we do in them?” Neteyam teases, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. A distraction for both you and himself.

You can't form words, not as you feel how big he is. As you cherish the fact you’ll never be empty again. He's hard and pulsing in your hand and you want him inside of you. Your mouth, your cunt. You don't care. You want to be the only one who gets to feel him, no one else can ever-

There’s only one way to ensure that.

“Tsahelyu” you whimper, “Please Neteyam. Need it”

He slows down a bit, his head spacy but not totally lost. The bond is everything. It’s the most important aspect of Na’vi culture “I can't bond you here”

“Why?” its a petulant whine, your hips pressing against his again.

“I’m not going to bond you on the cold ground, Yawne. Out in the open”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind” you press and he chuckles, shaking his head “you could have me anywhere you want me”

It’s the raw honesty in your voice that drives him crazy.

Devotion in a way that makes him lightheaded.

He can't give you Tsaheylu yet, he wants it done right. He wants you tucked in a mountain of blankets with a warm fire going- at the height of Fertility Season. The ancestors watching over you as he intertwines himself into your soul for the rest of time.

“I will have you” He assures you, dragging his mouth across your clavicle, his long fingers working the strings of your intricate top loose “And you’ll have me. But you have to let me do it right”

You hate waiting. You tell him as he suckles his way across your chest. Moaning as he finally gets his mouth on your soft breasts. Your fist his braids, shivering as he feasts on your skin.

“I’ll make it worth your while” Neteyam promises between mouthfuls of supple flesh “You’ll want for nothing. I’ll give you anything”

He’s humping down into you, unable to stop his hips from shifting. His cock seeking your warmth. You’re right there, he could just-

“Please” you shiver, like you know what he’s thinking. Like you can read his mind and all the dirty thoughts that cross it.

You can't take it. All of his hesitating.

You’d heard that the Omiticayans were more reserved, more traditional when it came to mating but he was going to drive you crazy.

You push on his chest. Gentle yet demanding.

He doesn't want to remove his mouth from your breasts but he allows it all the same. His lips swollen, a thin string of spit connecting him to your tender nipple as he stares at you with questioning eyes.

Neteyam lets you push him off of you before he goes down onto his back, the sand grating against his shoulder blades as he lays flat. You grin the entire time. Your eyes sparkling with excitement. With hunger.

You look as horny as he feels and it kills him.

Your fingers pluck at the at the delicate ties of your tweng, loosening it until it falls from your curvy hips.

“Y/N” he warns as you then reach for his own. Tugging at the leather straps of his loincloth. He raises his hips, helping you shimmy it down his long legs.

“You can't bond me” You whisper as you straddle his waist, your small hands using his broad chest for balance, palms on his pectorals “Not yet anyway”

“Mhmm” Neteyams murmurs as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You're hot and dripping wet, the center of your legs steaming as you rub it against his groin.

“That doesn't mean you cant touch me” you coo at the man under you as you slowly begin to undulate above him. Your hips circling as your head lowers to tongue at the underside of his jaw.

“Shit” He curses in English, gasping at the night sky as you drag damply across his lower stomach .

“Yes?” you question him as you reach for his hand, leading it exactly where you need him most.

“Yeah” Neteyam assures, fingertips dipping where you're skin is plush and dripping- right in between your spread thighs “Yeah, Yeah”

Your hand is still leading his, cupping him firmly against your pussy as he feels how much you need him. You hadn't been the only one dreaming of this. You had danced behind his eyelids for months. His brain had played tricks on him, desperately splicing together mismatched audio in an attempt to conjure up what you would sound like when he finally got to have you.

A shivery keen escapes you when he presses on your swollen bundle of nerves and nah. His imagination couldn't hold a candle to this.

It’s not just how you sound its how you look.

Sat on top of him, resting on your knees with your chest bare save for that brightly hued Lei. Your kiss bruised bottom lip is skewered between your sharp teeth as you worry it in keyed-up concentration. Blue eyes low, your long eyelashes almost fluttering against your cheeks as you stare down at him.

It’s how you smell.

Ripe and earth wet- his mouth floods as he inhales lungfuls of it, your juices are all over him. His waist, coating his hand . Everywhere but right on his tongue where he wants it the most.

Exploring you where you’re the most vulnerable is slippery, your pussy swollen as he traces along the folds. Your clit beats with your pulse under his touch, inflamed and you cry out.

“Awe, baby” he tuts. Your hips chase him in jagged little movements, unsure and needy and it’s enough to get him grinning. You’d been so sure of yourself when you’d pushed him down and climbed on top of him.

Yet here you are a whining mess of his thing in his lap.

There’s no room to tease, he wants to watch you come all over him. Everything still feels too over sensitive. Too new and easily breakable. You’d spent the last near week questioning his feelings.

Neteyam had his words. He could wax to you poetic until your ears bled,

But he had this too. He needed to make you feel a way that no one else could and as he sunk his long digit inside of you he realized that this was better then any conversation. This felt like the most natural way to express all of his emotions, you sucking him in knuckle deep felt so right.

Velvet soft and vice tight, he’s hard between his own legs from just the feel of you. Just knowing that this was his.

You, your heart. Your body. Your tiny little cunt.

Tiny but taking him so well, not just one finger. But two. Then three. Your body moves like the crashing waves behind you, intense and wild. Shoving down onto him so hard that his wrist starts to ache with the demanding press.

“More” you pant wetly into his neck “Faster. Net-please”

He figures out that faster means harder, and harder means he has you all but vibrating on top of him. Bouncing in time with every thrust of his digits. The arm that isn't preoccupied comes around you to hold you steady as he finger fucks you until you're a squealing mess.

This isn't the first time Neteyam has done this.

There’d been girls back home. One girl in particular that didn't take it too personally that he needed tension relief from the war raging around them and not the arranged soon to be wife that everyone had been trying to shove down his throat back them.

This isn't the first time he’s done this but it’s the first time he’s felt this.

He nuzzles your head out from its hiding place in his shoulder. He has to watch your face, needs to see the way he’s making you fall apart.

This is the first time he’s felt the all consuming pull to be with another person. He wants you like this always. So close to him that he could taste the perspiration from your panting breaths.

You tighten up in his arms, going rigid as your pleasure crests. Your pussy fluttering and mouth gaping. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re orgasm is ethereal, raw and fervid.

It’s a glance at Eywa. He sees the great mother on your face as you writhe atop of him.

It’s alot, he can tell. Fuck he can only imagine what you’re feeling if it had been this intense for him. Neteyam lets you hide again after a moment. Your hair covers your face as you shake and he thinks you might be crying, but he just brushes a hand down your damp back. Soothing you back down from the high.

The stars are brighter, even as the clouds gather in gluggy gray storm clusters. Everything seems a little bit more beautiful with his fingers still inside of you. It pains him to slide them out, missing the tight clutch of you once his wet fingers are exposed to the cool night air.

Tsaheylu, you’d begged him earlier. His kuru throbs and gooseflesh erupts all over his body just thinking about bonding with you. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything.

You nuzzle against him, nosing at his cheek. Your lips ghosting at the corner of his own.

“You okay?” you wonder. Your voice deep and husky. So sexy it makes his eyes close for a second.

“I should be asking you that”

“Mmm, no need to ask. I feel so so good” you assure him, starting to sit up a little “I um-I kind of got really into it. I’m sorry”

“Sorry?” Neteyam questions, keeping his grip on you as you start to squirm. Not in pleasure this time. But in shame, the embarrassed kind. Coming down from the pleasure haze, that anxious edge comes back. Unsure even as you’re on top of him. “Don’t say that. Why would you be sorry right now?”

You huff, nose scrunching. Ears flicking “I made a mess all over you”

It might not be very nice but he can't help but laugh at you. His pearly white canines on display as he hoots, the belly laughs jostling you from your perch.

“What!” you grumble, but smile all the same. “Stop”

“Hmm. I love messes like this. Feel free to make messes like this anytime” his fingers, still glistening come into view as he brings them to his mouth. Your eyes widen, glued to him. At the slight suction of his cheeks as he licks them in earnest “See. Easy clean up, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Pretty”

You taste as good as you smell. His tastebuds tingle as he swirls the new flavor around. Complex; a sweet musk that he wants to bathe in. He’s acutely aware of the way you watch him, your sweet cheeks burning at his lewdness.

When he frees his fingers with a pop, he gasps as your tongue surges in his mouth.

Tasting yourself on his spit.

Fuck.

He lets you kiss him breathless. Lets you run your sloppy kisses all over his face, down his chin. Across his neck. He arches into it all, gives you all the room you need. He’s well aware of what you’re doing. Working your strong scent into every inch of his bare skin.

Scent marking is a vital part of Na’vi courtship. Ancient, ritualistic and respected. Practiced by your ancestors before the first songs.

It’s makes something in him pur, knowing that you want him to smell like you.

“I think that's enough” He grins when your tongue dips into his navel “They can smell me, baby. You did a very thorough job”

The pout on your face is beyond cute as you sit up on your knees. The little ‘hmph’ sound so adorably out of place in the highly sexually charged situation “But I wanna smell like you too. How will anyone know I’m yours if they can’t smell it?”

Neteyam's nostrils flare. His ears swivel on his head and his tail gives a good lash at that. You want to be marked by him too. Are willing to parade his scent around all of those assholes in the clan that have been trying to win your affections, even when it was clear you were uninterested.

“Lay down” It’s an order, spoken softly but directly and you follow it at once. A giddy smile on your face as you lounge on the sand.

You are a vision.

Hair sprawling and messy behind your head. Your legs spread, back arched. Pretty nipples pebbled hard and on display. The only thing covering you is the floral necklace around your svelte throat.

It doesn't take him long at all. He strokes his striped cock firm and efficiently. Too many years of having to get himself off fast enough not to be caught has made his practiced movements almost perfect.

You’re looking at him like that again. Adoration clear as day on your face. Soft for him. You see him-

“Ol Ngati Kamiel” your voice is saccharin as you speak and he grunts violently as he comes.

Ropes of it land on your belly, across your exposed chest. It’s almost too much when you reach down swiping into the translucent, sticky, mess and start rubbing it into your smooth skin. He collapses shakily beside you, needing to collect himself for a minute before he helps your cause.

It’s the most intimate thing the two of you have done all night, laying together. Basking in the afterglow. Your scents mingle, dancing together in the evening breeze and Neteyam wants to imprint this memory somewhere deep.

The festivities are still raging- and you really do need to get back. It’s an important night. Your clan wants you there, the two of you need to make your rounds. Keep appearances. He won’t keep you from your duties, no matter how much he may want to.

After a quick dip in the ocean, removing the filth of love making but still wearing the strong scent of each other's pheromones, you begin to redress.

Neteyam watches. Highly distracted as you shimmy back into your tweng before looping your top around your shoulders. He works clumsily at the leather of his loincloth.

“Wait-”

The two of you are starting the trek back to the bonfire when he reaches out to halt you. His fingers play with wreath of lilies around your neck and his eyes bore into yours pleadingly.

The smile you give him is more radiant then the silvery moons that twinkle in the inky sky.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Even at the late hour the ceremonial bonfire still crackles with life. The festivities have ebbed into something slower, more intimate.

The adults of the clan are all that’s left, children long gone and tucked into their beds or dozing off against their parents' side.

Kiri sits on a carved log, in a circle of familiar faces.

Her mother and father had left not long ago. Tuk had been fighting slumber but succumbed after the Elders crooned a particularly slow song about the Sky and Sea’s forbidden love. Jake had hoisted the young girl up and bid everyone adieu, swaying on his feet as his wife hissed at him about how after all these years, he still couldn’t handle his liquor.

Now, Kiri listens to stories as she sips slowly on her cup of Kava. Enjoying the pleasant burn;

But not willing to end up like her dumb as rocks brother who is sprawled on the ground. Lo’ak is all but unconscious, every time he opens his eyes they are unfocused and hazy.

That’s what he gets for trying to out drink clan members twice his size. He’d been on the losing end of the drinking competition from the start- he was just too stubborn to see it.

Lo’ak is lucky Tsireya doesn’t care much for drinking, and is more than willing to tend to him. She keeps trying to force him to drink water and nibble on bits of food.

Ao’nung isn’t faring much better; he stares at the moon with a dopey smile as he sings, incredibly off tune, to the song that fills the air. A gaggle of girls surround him. Each hoping to catch his eye.

It’d been an all night thing, affections being thrown at him while he ignored it all too easily.

“My bed will be full this season, I’m not worried about a thing” he’d shrugged it off when asked about it.

Roxto’s boisterous laugh had dwindled down when Kiri shot him an extremely unamused glare.

She’s debating on leaving Lo’ak to sleep on the beach for the night when out of the shadows comes her eldest brother; who had been missing for most of the evening.

The hours had bled away and Kiri had tried not to worry too much about the confrontation that was going on just beyond the jovial bubble of the Metkayina celebrations. You had been distraught and Neteyam had never been good at voicing his own emotional needs-

Huh.

It looks like she had nothing to worry about.

The grin on Neteyam’s face is shit eating. It’s the smuggest she’s ever seen him. Even at his first Inknimaya, back with the Omiticaya, he hadn’t reacted like this. All head raised high and walking on a cloud.

You tug him along behind you, you guys’ fingers tightly intertwined. Your hips sway excitedly as you bounce along the sand. Kiri’s brother's chest is puffed out in obvious pride as he follows your footsteps.

Around his neck is Lei made up of vibrant pink flowers. It matches the one in your hair, that sits kind of lopsided now.

As the couple gets you closer, and Kiri catches a whiff of your approaching bodies, she wants to wretch. You’re drowning in each other's scents and it’s quite obvious what you had been up to all night.

“So gross” Kiri gags in accusation once you’re both in earshot.

You two owed her so big. She thinks naming one of your future children after her would suffice.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Okayyyyy. This was so fun to write and I already have Part Three brewing! TAGLIST IS CLOSED.

So like. Lots to address here. Tons to talk about. I’m gonna start the conversation but I hope you guys continue it in the comments.

1. The Motnaui is something I completely made up(…yes after watching Moana and taking inspiration for the name) lol it’s a ritualistic hunt that newly anointed hunters and warriors go on after their Metkayinan Iknimaya’s. I know all the different clans Iknimaya traditions would be different and I thought this would be cool.

2. I read a story in the Avatar fandom where the liquor they drank was called Kava and it just stuck in my brain. I know Kava is a drink in real life too, but for the sake of storytelling, please think about them as completely different things. The drink in this story is more of a wine/moonshine mixture deal. Would really fuck your ass upppp.

3. Fertility Season is obvs totes made up. Why is it rainy during it? Because I myself would want a week of non stop loving making with a nice little fire going, under lots of blankets with it chilly and rainy outside. And at the end of the day I’m writing for me lol

4. NETEYAM IS A SWEETHEART WHO STRUGGLES WITH HIS SELF WORTH JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. Please listen to the Artic Monkeys while you read this chapter(wanna be yours, do I wanna know, 505. THE LONGING)

5. Expect more POV’s to come! It will always be mostly rooted from Y/N’s point of view but I love touching base with all of the other characters. It’s so fun. I’m thinking a snippet of Neytiris in Part Three!

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x reader #aged up neteyam #SMUT!#neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam x you #atwow neteyam

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luveline · 2 years ago

Note

oooooo how about reader obsessed with hugging hotch !! like he's so big and warm and it always makes them feel safe and cared for <33

my love this isn’t exactly what you asked for but I hope you like it! I could write a hundred fics about hugging Hotch <3 fem!bau!reader

You’re addicted to Hotch’s hugs. It’s a crude metaphor, but you don’t use it lightly. Without his hugs you feel unbalanced and unsettled. It’s strange to think just a few months ago you hadn’t been able to hug him at all, though you’d sorely wanted to, and now you can do it whenever you like.

Within reason. You aren’t awful, you don’t try to pin them on him during work when he’ll be seen by high-ups and law enforcement — you would never undermine his professionalism like that, or your own. Though there are exceptions.

Like lunch time.

The team usually eat and work at the same time, but legally you’re allowed an hour a day for lunch, and Hotch wouldn’t get mad at anyone for wanting to take it in a more relaxing fashion. That being said, you usually have lunch like this; takeout around the same table, notebooks open, Reid barely picking at his, Morgan and Emily too busy eating to speak, JJ taking ten minutes for herself somewhere quiet, and Hotch hard-pushed to order anything in the first place. You sit way too close on his left and cut your sandwich in two with a plastic knife.

“Here you go,” you murmur, more to yourself than him as you pass over the bigger half.

“Honey,” he says, “no.”

“It’s okay, just eat it,” you insist.

You sound as fond as you feel, you always do. Everybody’s used to how much you like Hotch. Not just love him or care about him, like him. You like how he’s quiet and stern and assertive. You like his suits and his short-cropped hair and his frown. Everything about him makes you smile, which is amazing considering the severity of your job. Nobody resents your being sweet on him, though Morgan still makes his jokes.

“Do as the lady says, boss,” he advises. “We all know how it ends otherwise.”

Hotch frowns at him but takes your offered sandwich. You eat in silence, listening to the click of the computers in the bullpen through the open door, the warbling voice of the precincts police chief, and the rattle of keys as a janitor makes his way past the conference room you’re holed up in. Reid flicks through a map of the area, trying to narrow down his geographical profile, his pencil tap-tap-tapping.

You pass a big wad of napkins onto Hotch’s thigh, and put what’s left of your sandwich back into its wrapper. He squints at you inquisitively. You’re only standing to stretch out the nagging ache that’s coiled between your shoulders and around your neck. You click, the sound like a gunshot, and make everybody in hearing distance flinch.

Hotch abandons his food not long after you have, seeing an opening you hadn’t meant to give. He wipes his hands on a napkin, then his face.

While he’s not looking, you take a step closer. Another and another. Morgan grins at you knowingly.

You slide your arm behind Hotch’s neck, standing slightly behind him, and bring your face to the side of his head. He wraps an arm around you in turn, movement rigid with reluctance.

“It’s my legal lunch break,” you say softly. “What do you always say about breaks?”

“You can spend it however you want,” he says, sounding very much like the Hotch you get to adore outside of work, joking and light, a great surprise. “But I can spend mine however I want.”

“And you don’t want to be hugging me?” you summarise.

You’re joking in that you kind of know he doesn’t want this, not because he doesn’t want you. He’s rather shy, your Hotch. He loves hugs, but in front of others he requires a little persuasion. If you thought he truly didn’t want one you’d keep your hands to yourself, but…

“That’s not what I said.”

Pleased, you curl your second arm around his collar, hand diving into the soft hair at the back of his head. You pull with the lightest pressure, pressing a secret, soundless kiss to the end of his unhappy brow. And then, because you love him and you don’t want to embarrass him too much, you spring away from him like it never happened.

Later, when dark has enveloped the city and you’re making your way out to the SUV that’s gonna take you to the hotel for the night, you fall into step with your lovely boyfriend and sigh. You’ve felt the guilt of your hug all day.

“Thank you,” you say.

It takes him a second to emerge from his thoughts. “For what?”

He doesn’t add a pet name, but his tone implies one.

“For letting me, uh, climb all over you at lunch. I know public displays aren’t your favourite.”

He tilts his head toward yours without looking at you. “It makes you feel better.”

He doesn’t need to say the obvious. You both work a hard job emotionally.

“I don’t want to make you feel worse,” you say, voice sticky with bashfulness.

He laughs, tipping his head back in the open air, and it’s odd enough for him that you gawp, worse when he wraps his hand around yours and swings them mildly forth and back.

“In what world would a hug from you make me feel worse, honey?”

You smile in fits and starts for hours. In the SUV, in the hotel elevator, in the hallway outside of your room. You smile as you and Hotch get changed into lounge clothes for the night, and as he twines your fingers together under the sheets.

He’s far from stupid. He knows why you’re smiling, and while his mind is on the case, he takes the time to say, “You don’t have to be so quick to move away. In front of the BAU.”

“Think we could get away with it in front of Strauss?”

“…No.”

You laugh, and Hotch evidently likes the sound of it. He lets you hug him like a straight jacket until 5AM.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x y/n

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trillscienceofficer · 2 months ago

Text

from Star Trek: Voyager the official magazine, June 1997

ROXANN DAWSON - B'Elanna Torres

by Ian Spelling

“You never really get used to it,” Roxann Dawson says of the makeup that transforms her into B'Elanna Torres on STAR TREK: VOYAGER. “I've gotten used to having it applied, but I don't think you ever really get used to it. Part of me likes it though. It certainly helps me slip into character and, of course, I'm not recognized at all out of the makeup, sometimes not even on the set.

“I remember that in the first few months we were doing the show, even people on the set had no idea who I was. I would walk right onto the stage without makeup and our own director of photography wouldn't recognize me. Over time, people have seen me out of makeup a little bit more often. So at least the cast and crew are beginning to know who I am now.”

Dawson smiles, which is a big no-no. At this very moment, she's sitting in a chair as a makeup artist glues on prosthetics and paints over assorted Klingon facial ridges. Every time Dawson stretches her facial muscles too much—which occurs when she smiles or laughs—she risks ruining the makeup artists work, and that would only mean more time in the chair. “I usually like to look the person I'm talking to in the eye,” Dawson explains. "But I can't turn my head, either. Use the mirror. I know it's a little weird, but if you look at me in the mirror as we speak, we can make eye contact.”

Clearly, Dawson has held more than a few conversations from this chair, which sits in the middle of a make-up trailer just a short walk from the VOYAGER sound-stages on the Paramount Pictures lot.

Hard as it may be to believe, three years have passed since Dawson first arrived here to play B'Elanna in the “Caretaker” pilot. “It is hard to believe, and it has been a great experience. I've been able to do almost everything as an actress portraying this character,” she enthuses. The other day, they had me rappelling for a scene we were shooting. That was so cool. It's one of the neat things about being an actor. You don't have to know how to do something and you don't really have to practice it. They just had me do it. Of course, I was protected, and a stuntwoman would have done anything that would have been too dangerous for me to do.”

Dawson notes, “We're also learning so much about this character. In ‘Blood Fever,’ we really explored many aspects that were very particular to B'Elanna, but not necessarily particular to Klingons or chief engineers in general. We're discovering that she's not just strong in the masculine sense, but that she can be sexual and feminine and interested in learning more about herself. I talked with Jeri Taylor at the beginning of the season because I wanted to see more of B'Elanna's Klingon side come out. I didn't want her to become too complacent. I wanted her irreverence to always be there. I wanted that war going on inside of her to be present and always a conflict that influenced her choices. I think the writers are making sure that's all there this sea- son.

“I don't want B'Elanna to be a goody two-shoes,” Dawson emphasizes. “I don't mind seeing her darker, uglier sides. That's important. It's part of who she is. It's good to see her at her worst. It's good to see her learn from her mistakes. That's what makes a character interesting. I love that, and I hope it continues.

“You never really get what you want as an actress, but with B'Elanna, I've really gotten a lot of what I had wished for. The writers keep surprising me,” she continues. “They keep coming up with different aspects of her for me to explore. I think to myself, ‘How did you know that was in my hidden agenda?’ That's a wonderful feeling for an actress on any show to have.”

Dawson also believes that the writers are doing justice to B'Elanna's relationships with the other characters aboard Voyager. When the series began, she was primarily presented as an outsider, even among her Maquis co-conspirators. Over time, B'Elanna has emerged as a respected member of the crew. Captain Janeway now shows the utmost confidence in her, and her friendship with Tom Paris seems to be blossoming into romance. “One thing people have to understand is that this is an ensemble show. There are nine regular characters to service every week,” Dawson notes. “I just feel really fortunate that, in such a short time, they've developed B'Elanna's specific relationships with just about everyone on the ship. except maybe Kes. We haven't had much to do together and I would love to have an episode exploring that relationship a little bit more.

"With all of the other characters, though, I have a specific relationship and a definite attitude, and each relationship and attitude is changing and growing. I love thee fact that the Doctor can tick me off so much at one moment, but al other moments there is an element of respect, when he does something that impresses me. For example, when I thought we were losing him and his memory, I suddenly realize that I need him, that he has grown me. I love that every once in a while, we see little windows of B'Elanna's past with Chakotay. Paris and I got very close in ‘Blood Fever’, but I was under the influence of something, I was in Klingon heat.

“I want the writers to keep surprising me. Sometimes I love not knowing exactly what's going to happen, and not figuring it out until I'm handed a script. I really don't know where they're going to go with the relationship between B'Elanna and Paris. I do hope they'll take their time and make it happen slowly. I hope it's original, a little different than what we've seen before. I hope they put in a great deal of friction. I'm sure B'Elanna is different from anyone Paris has ever been involved with before, and would love to see him realizing and dealing with that. I see that all happening, and it really pleases me.”

According to Dawson, she and Robert Duncan McNeill have sat down and discussed the best ways to make the B'Elanna-Paris relationship work for them, how to best add layers to the groundwork being provided by the shows writing staff. By way of example, when they received the “Blood Fever” teleplay, the two discussed the arc of the script and how they saw it as the launching pad for an ongoing relationship. They incorporated their conversations into their performances when the scenes were played out before the camera. 'It really comes down to the actors interpreting what's on the page,” Dawson says. ��Robbie and I wanted to make sure that certain elements were there and, also, we didn't want to overstep any boundaries. We wanted to be certain we were doing it right. We do discuss things on that level, but we always have to keep in mind that we must by what the script says.”

Sometimes, of course, Dawson also must go by what her directors say. And the actress has been directed not only by actor/directors Jonathan Frakes and LeVar Burton, but also by her VOYAGER costars McNeill and Robert Picardo. McNeill helmed “Sacred Ground”, while Picardo called the shots on “Alter Ego”. “I had about 30 seconds of screen time in ‘Sacred Ground,’ but I was impressed with what Robbie did. Actually, he's going to direct another episode,” she says. “Bob was great on his show. It amazes me, because you don't always know that an actor will be able to direct. Both of these men are obviously multi-talented, because they're not only fine actors but they managed to direct well, too."

Soon enough, Dawson will find out whether or not she can add herself to the list of multi-talented VOYAGER cast members, for she is enrolled in STAR TREK's director-in-training program, which has turned out such directors as Frakes, Burton, Patrick Stewart and STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE's Avery Brooks and Rene Auberjonois. She's watching other directors in action, sitting in on editing sessions and the like, all in preparation to direct an episode sometimes next season. “There's a great education to be had here and they treat me with such grace. I'm so grateful to have the opportunity to learn this craft,” Dawson enthuses with a smile that elicits a wince from her makeup man.

“I've always wanted to direct. I've directed for theater, but it's quite different from directing for film or TV. I honestly don't know if I'll like it or be good at it. I think the time for deciding whether I'll be a good director is right now, during the learning process. So far, I really do love it. Hopefully, I'll be good at it, too. Whatever episode they give me to do, I just want to be able to bring it to life. Each episode is so different. Sometimes you're handled something that's very action-oriented, and sometimes you'll get something that's very thought-provoking. I don't know which kind of show I would be better at, but part of me says I would be better off starting with a quieter episode. I don't know if I have a particular style that I would impose anything. That was always my goal as a stage director. I'll probably stick with that idea for my first episode."

While Roxann Dawson may go on to make her mark as a director of VOYAGER, she's well aware that, even though she'll likely enjoy a long, fruitful career beyond STAR TREK, the show, her role and the fans will always be a part of her life. "I've heard that. Am I comfortable with it? I guess I'm growing more comfortable with the idea," she acknowledges.

"If this was something that didn't deserve that kind of recognition, then I would feel uncomfortable. But I think VOYAGER does deserve that kind of recognition. I'm part of something special. So, yeah, I guess I am comfortable with the idea STAR TREK being a part of my life forever. Let me put it this way: I'm as comfortable as I could be.”

Focus: Star Trek: Voyager

It has been a long time since Roxann Dawson last looked back at the episodes of STAR TREK: VOYAGER which were either focused almost entirely on B'Elanna Torres or which featured scenes of importance as they related to the character. Thus, the conversation backtracks to October 1995, when “Persistence of Vision” first aired:

“Persistence of Vision” (The crew's deeply buried desires surface; Chakotay seduces B'Elanna): “All I remember from that one was not being able to stop laughing when we were doing the love scene between Chakotay and me. Robert Beltran and I just kept cracking each other up.”

“Resistance” (The crew encounters the Mokra; Tuvok and B'Elanna are captured): “I liked working with Tim Russ. That was the first show where I saw any potential for exploring the relationship between Tuvok and B'Elanna. I realized he could help her explore some of the imbalances in the way she views her Klingon and human sides.”

“Prototype” (B'Elanna reactivates a robot, only to have it kidnap her and try to destroy Voyager) and “Dreadnought” (B'Elanna beams inside a missile to deactivate it): “I worked with Jonathan Frakes and LeVar Burton [as directors] on those two shows. They're both great guys. It's funny, in ‘Faces’ I dealt with myself a lot. In ‘Prototype’ I dealt with a robot and in ‘Dreadnought’ I dealt with a computer that had my voice. So, I was acting with myself in three B'Elanna-heavy episodes. I begged the writers to make the next one something where I interacted with a human. “Jonathan did a great job directing ‘Prototype’. ‘Dreadnought’ surprised me because so much effort went into actually developing the computer voice. That came about through hours and hours of looping. The whole show was B'Elanna and her relationship with this computer counterpart. So, it was fascinating for me to create that relationship half in performance and half in a sound studio.”

“The Thaw” (A clown [Michael McKean] holds Harry Kim and B'Elanna hostage while Janeway tries to free them): “I didn't have a whole lot to do in that. but I thought it was a brilliant episode. It had a lot to say and certain moments were just chilling, especially the death of Fear. Michael McKean was just great.”

“The Swarm” (The Doctor's system overloads and B'Elanna tries to help him recover his programming): “That was a great opportunity to work with Bob Picardo and to explore B'Elanna's relationship with the Doctor. I liked the fact that, to B'Elanna, he had always been just a computer, and in this episode she got to see he had this... humanity.”

“Remember” (B'Elanna has bad dreams; Dawson plays two roles): “I loved having the opportunity to do that show. It was a brilliant script. I loved being able to play the two characters, and how Karenna's [sic] life influenced B'Elanna's. I felt the show had something to say. Bruce Davidson [who played Jareth, Karenna's father] was extraordinary. I've always wanted to work with him. I had known of him since I lived in New York City, and he was just brilliant.”

“Blood Fever” (B'Elanna experiences Klingon heat; she and Paris begin their relationship): “That was an extraordinary experience. It demanded a kind of courage I didn't know I had. I took risks there, and I'm glad I did. I hope people think those risks paid off.”

“Darkling” (The Doctor goes bad): That was our Jekyll and Hyde epsiode with the Doctor turning a little evil. Bob Picardo and I had some fun together when he was in his Mr. Hyde mode. He paralyzed me and he was threatening to kill me and Bob was speaking in a sleazy, very sexual way. It was so disgusting, but I think it came across very funny.”

Though Torres doesn't feature heavily in the next few episodes shot, efforts have been made to develop one aspect of her character. “What's happening is that they've been furthering the B'Elanna/Paris relationship in subsequent episodes. In ‘Displaced’ we have the B-storyline. We did a lot of head-butting in that one. And we did one show where, for the first time, I worked only one day. But the whole day was B'Elanna/Paris stuff.

#voy #trek magazines #star trek monthly #roxann dawson #b'elanna torres

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specialagentlokitty · 9 months ago

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Master chief x reader - learning new feelings with you

Saw that you would start writing for Master Chief. I finished watching it like a week ago so this is a funny coincidence😂. Maybe a Master Chief (John-117) x reader with this prompt “Did you mean it?” “What?” “When you said you loved me did you mean it?” from your 2024 prompts. So many of the 2024 prompts would be great for him. You don't have to write this if you don't won't to as always of course.( •◡-)-♡ - Anon💜

Sitting at your desk, you flicked through some of the files on the tablet you were holding, taking a sip of your tea that was sat in front of you.

There was a knock on the door and you looked up.

“Come in.” You called.

The door was opened, and you smiled a little bit at the Spartan and your cell doctor who came through the door.

“Miranda, Master Chief, what brings you here?” You asked.

The Spartan took a seat in a chair on the other side of the room, and Miranda walked over to you.

“I’m sorry Doctor, I know you’re very busy but John has been injured, and he refuses medical assistance. I thought maybe you could convince him to get help.”

You nodded, standing up from your desk.

“I’ll see that the chief is safe. Thank you for bringing him here.”

She smiled, heading out of your office and you turned around to John, walking over you took a seat in front of him.

“Why are you refusing medical care Master Chief?”

“I don’t know who I can trust, who I can’t trust.”

You slowly nodded your head.

“You’ve been having an influx of emotions since you removed the pellet from your back, these are emotions you have never felt before so you don’t know how to process them, that’s okay.”

You leant over the table, tapping a finger against the helmet over his head.

“However, refusing medical assistance when it’s needed is not okay. It’s dangerous to put yourself in that situation.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, may you remove your helmet please? Show me where the injury is.”

John reached up, carefully pulling his helmet off, setting it on the floor next to his foot.

He looked up, his eyes connecting with yours, and you pulled a torch out from your pocket, flashing it over his eyes.

“Follow my finger.”

He did as you said, and you carefully turned his head from side to side to ensure that there was no pain or restriction with his movements.

“You’ll need a few stitches, but otherwise you’ll be fine. I can have somebody from the medical team come up and sort that out.”

“No.”

“No?”

You turned around to look at John, setting your tablet back down, showing him that you were listening to what he was saying.

“Do you not want the medical team to do it?”

“No.”

“Alright, I won’t call for them.”

Walking across your office, you grabbed a first aid box you kept in there and walked back over, taking what you would need out.

John didn’t say anything as you placed your hand on the side of his face, turning it just a little bit so you could work on stitching the wound on the side of his head.

“I hope you know that I’m no medical doctor Chief, so this will be a dodgy job at best.”

“I know.”

You hummed a little bit, remember what you had learnt a long time ago as you fixed up his injury for him.

When you were done, you bagged everything up, took your gloves off and set it all aside, sanitising your hands.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.” John replied.

You turned around to look at him.

“Do you feel you can trust me?”

“Why?”

“Because I would like to know why you refuse medical attention, why Miranda brought you here to see me.”

John clasped his hands together, leaning his head down to run his hands over it, letting out a small breath.

You didn’t pressure him, you simply walked back over to sit in front of him once more.

“Chief?”

He looked up at you, and you gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me of you don’t want to, okay? I’m not here to force you into anything you don’t want okay? Remember this is a safe place.”

“I need to go.”

“Alright, that’s okay. If you do want to talk though just come and see me, my door is always open for you.”

He nodded his head, picked up his helmet and left, and you walked back to your desk.

You had a good idea as to why he decided to come to you instead.

After touching the object they had found, he’d glad glimpses of what you believed were memories, he’d learned he was stolen away from his family.

He wasn’t very trusting after finding out it was the very same doctor whom been with him and the pet her Spartans this whole time.

The only constant thing he had right now was you and the other Spartans, he had demanded to see your file to make sure you weren’t in on it as well, and you showed him.

You never hid anything from him.

So, if you had to guess, he was a little more trusting of you than any of the other doctors, and he felt more comfortable with you than the people who were usually poking and prodding at him after missions if he was hurt.

You had a few sessions with some of the marines, spending some times with them, talking to them and listening to their concerns or fears.

As late afternoon came around, you were walking around your office to stretch your legs, and there was a knock on your door before it opened.

“Doctor?”

You hummed, turning around, smiling at John as he came back through.

“How can I help?”

He quietly closed the door, standing to attention, hands clasped behind his back as if he were reporting to a supervisor.

“You seem to make sense of things when nobody else can. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

“Let’s take a seat and have a talk, yeah?”

He sat down, and you sat down opposite him.

He began to explain everything to you, sometimes pausing to find the right words or think about what he was saying.

He didn’t say much, and he stopped speaking to look at you.

“Do you understand what it is?” He asked.

“I do, yes. When we’re young we are taught how to handle our emotions, process them. Our parents teach us first, how to appropriately react to emotions. Does that make sense?”

John shook his head.

“Well, when I was a kid when I was angry I used to break things or throw things. My mom gave me a cup of water, but I was angry because she wouldn’t give me my favourite snack, so I threw the cup and broke it.”

John furrowed his brows a little bit.

“Over a snack?”

You laughed a little bit.

“Kids will do anything for their favourite snacks.”

You smiled at him.

“My mom put me in time out while she cleaned it up, then she came over, explained to me when I was angry I should never throw things, or hit people. When you’re angry you shouldn’t speak to people, and you should never go to bed angry.”

He slowly nodded his head.

“Our teachers continue these teachings, the grown ups in our lives help us learn about this emotions, how to handle them and how to process them. You never had that option, you had your emotions taken away from you.”

“Kai seems to be adjusting…”

“Kai is deflecting, Kai is finding things to occupy herself, but there will come a time where she will be forced to face the emotions she doesn’t know about yet. Grief, loss, pain, you’ll experience them as well.”

John raised his gaze from his hands to look at you.

“It’s hard to point which emotion it is you’re feeling, but if I had to guess I would assume perhaps anger, and confusion mixed into one.”

“What do I do? How do I make it go away?”

You gave him a sad smile.

“You can’t make them go away, you can push them down, but one day you will need to process them. There are different ways to doing this, and I can guide you, but I can’t process them for you, this needs to be something you do yourself.”

“What do I do?”

Getting up, you walked over to your desk and picked up a bit of paper, walking back over to him and you sat down next to him.

You were much smaller than he was, even sitting next to him on the couch it was clear that you were smaller than him.

You held it out to him and he took it.

“I keep this list for anybody who needs help figure out how to process their emotions. It’s a list of things that may help you. From going to the gym, writing letters, then there’s taking a step back from your current situation, go for a walk, find somewhere quiet to sit and just be you.”

“What do you do?”

“Well, I wait until the weekends, then I leave reach, and I go for a hike nearby. Around this time of year there’s my favourite place where all the flowers are in bloom, and I just sit there, sometimes I read, other times I just listening to the birds. I enjoy the escape of nature.”

John nodded his head, setting the paper down on his table.

“I decided to come here because I trust you.” He said quietly.

You smiled softly.

“Well, I’m glad you can. But Chief?”

You turned his head down to look at you.

“Next time please go to medical, it could be something serious. If you don’t like going there, you can get somebody to call for me and I’ll come with you, alright?”

“Why?”

You smiled softly at him, placing a hand on his arm, patting it a few times.

“Because you trust me, if that means I have to come to medical with you to make sure they don’t run any unnecessary tests, and make sure you’re alright I’ll do that.”

He nodded, and you got up, making your way back to your desk to put the paper away.

“Spartans were conditioned to only bond with other Spartans.” John said.

You looked over at him.

“I… don’t understand how to interact with other people.”

“That’s alright, you can learn if you want to. I’ll be going to my hike tomorrow if you would like to come along, I think it may help you.”

Taking another slip of paper, you wrote down a time and a place and walked over, handing it to him.

“I’ll be here, I’ll wait around for you, but you can find me there every weekend.”

He nodded, taking it from you and he left without another word.

The following day, just like you said, you waited for John, and he turned up a few minutes later, dressed in his work out uniform.

He usually wore it under his suit, so it made sense as to why he was wearing it now, they were most likely the only clothes he owned aside from his armour.

“How long does it take to get there?”

“Not long, we’ll need to stop to buy some water first.”

He nodded his head, following you to the shop, and you grabbed a couple of bottles of water, along with some food for lunch, paid for them and put them in your bag.

You and John made your way there, and you began walking the trail you walked every weekend.

“Doctor?”

“You can call me (Y/N), we’re not at the office. We’re friends right?”

“Friends?”

You smiled brightly.

“Well, you come by my office enough to not be friends at this point. I’ve never had somebody willingly come to my office so many times.”

He stayed quietly for a few moments, just searching around the trial.

He was looking around for threats, you knew that.

“How do I know what emotions are what?”

“Well, it depends on the person I suppose. And the emotion, take love for example, there are different kinds. Parental love, the love between a person and their parental figure, or parent and child. Then there’s plutonic love, the bond between friends, then you have romantic love, the love, the connection between two people who want to spend the rest of their their lives together.”

“How do you know the difference?”

You stopped walking, crouching down to look at some blue flowers that were blooming from the grass.

John knelt next to you to look at what you were looking at.

“Well, you have a plutonic love for the other Spartans, you’ll protect them, but just because you have to, but because they’ve essentially become your family.”

You looked up at him.

“Parental love, I’m not to sure how you’ve experienced that if you have. As a child I know you would have, and in time perhaps that’ll come back to you.”

You stood up, carrying on your walk, shifting the bag on your back and little uncomfortably.

John placed a larger hand on your shoulder, and he held his other hand out to you.

Taking the bag from your back you passed it over to him, letting him swing it over his shoulder.

“Thanks, it was getting a little heavy.” You laughed.

“Do you always bring so much?”

“Not always, but there’s two of us this time.”

“I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you.”

“Hey, come on chief, don’t say that. You’re never an inconvenience.”

John glanced at you.

“Why do you call me chief?”

“What would you prefer me to call you?”

He thought for a moment.

“I will call you (Y/N), only if you call me John.”

You smiled brightly up at him.

“Alright John.”

You carried on walking, every so often stopping to admire something and John would just stand there was stare at you.

He watched you carefully, not able to fully relax, put that sense that there was always a threat behind him.

As you reached a fork in the path, you took the one to the left, and soon enough you were surrounded by trees in full bloom, a sea of pink and white petals all over.

You walked to the middle and sit down, resting your hands behind you as you looked around.

“Why do you stop to look at everything?”

John sat in front of you, setting the bag between the pair of you.

“Well, it’s always important to take time to admire things you consider beautiful, for me, I find beauty in nature, the simple things that are all around us. I love it.”

John nodded a little.

“You never told me about romantic love. What is that like?”

“Well, again it’s different for everybody.”

“What is it for you?”

You were curious about his sudden curiosity about feelings, because the whole time since he removed his pellet he hadn’t shown much interest around them.

“John, can I ask why you’re suddenly curious?”

“Miranda says I love somebody. I don’t understand what that means.”

“Ah, I see. Well, for me it’s the little things that somebody does, what they like, the way they laugh, or the way they might make a small noise when they stretch. For me it’s about all the little things, not the big gestures. I don’t care about them, I’d take flowers over expressive dinner, walks instead of going to shows or things like that.”

John nodded his head.

He just sat there studying you, his eyes solely focused on you, watching your every move.

There was a reflection of the flowers in your eyes, and a warmth in your smile.

“How do I know if I love somebody?”

“Well, you could experience a need or want to be with this person, be next to them at all times. You’ll want to learn everything about them, it could be a tightness in your chest when you see them, a need to protect them. There’s a lot of different tells.”

“What do I do?”

You smiled.

“You could tell them, ask them on a date.”

John nodded his head, watching as you got up from where you were sat.

Walking over to one of the trees you stood under one of them, looking up through the blooming flowers.

John got up, walking after you and he stood behind you.

He watched your pointless attempt to try and reach them, there was no way you could teach them, but he could, so he reached up and took one of the flowers, giving it to you.

He enjoyed the close proximity to you, he didn’t know much about anything other than fighting, but he knew he liked having you nearby. He had an urge to keep you safe, and he liked seeing you smile.

“I love you.”

You snapped your eyes to him, head tilted back as you stared at him in pure shock.

John stared right back at you, his soft gaze focused solely on you, neither of you saying a work.

“Chief!”

He turned around, and you did the same thing, stepping from behind his larger frame.

“We have to go now.” Kai said.

John nodded his head, turning around to look at you.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Please let me know you have returned home safely.”

You slowly nodded, just watching d he jogged away but you couldn’t get the thought out of your head of what he said.

Technically there was nothing wrong with anything going on between the pair of you as he wasn’t a formal patient you were simply doing a friend a favour by helping him.

You had to admit you did like his presence there, and you had wondered about if Spartans dated, held relationships and such.

You didn’t see John for a good few weeks, but the moment he was back after his debrief he made his way to your office and knocked on the door before walking in.

“Master chief?”

He frowned a little.

“I prefer it when you say my name. It sounds different when you say it.”

“Sorry John, what brings you by? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I wanted to see you.”

This made you smile, and you set down some of the books you were holding in your hands.

John walked over, he seemed to reach out for your hand but he hesitated.

“I would like to go on a date with you, but I don’t know how to do that.”

“Can I ask you something first?”

He nodded his head, and you reached out, holding his larger hand between your smaller ones.

You had to look up in order to look at him, his head turned down a little bit so he could look at you.

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

You took a small breath.

“When you said you loved me did you mean it?”

“Yes. What you described is how I feel when I am around you, I want to explore this feeling, experience it with you. You see me for me, as John, not as master chief, even though you refer to me as master chief.”

You laughed softly, he enjoyed that sound.

“I’ll call you John from now on then.”

John studied you.

“Can you lean down?”

He complied, curiosity in his eyes.

Leaning forward, you pressed a very careful kiss to his cheek.

“Lets start slowly, a coffee date, get to know each other. You’re still learning about yourself, we don’t want to overwhelm you.”

He nodded his head, looking at his hands surrounded in yours, and he realised he had never known such a gentle and careful touch.

He enjoyed the different feelings he had around you, and he wanted to learn more about them, more about you

#halo #halo x reader #halo x you #halo imagine #halo the series #master chief #master chief x reader #master chief x you #master chief imagine #John 117 #John 117 x reader #John 117 x you #John 117 imagine

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sequinsmile-x · 3 months ago

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Our Great Divide - Chapter 3: Haunted by the Look in My Eyes

It's what they'd hoped would happen for years. For close to a decade it's what they would talk about late at night whilst snuggled up in bed together, quiet voices whispering about a life where Jack and Haley came back, where Jack could meet his siblings and their family would finally feel complete. Now it was finally happening, Emily had a pit in her stomach. A heavy weight made of fear and guilt as she worried that this could actually be the thing that tore them apart.

A Foyet Arc AU

-x-

Hi besties,

I am genuinely blown away by the love for this story!! It means so so much. I really hope you like this chapter, and I'm excited to know your thoughts <3

-x-

Warnings: Full list of warnings can be found on the Master List

Words: 4.2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He was used to this office no longer being his. Handing it over to Emily once he’d retired had seemed natural, her step up into Unit Chief something he’d supported since the moment he’d decided to leave the FBI. It always brought a sense of familiarity when he came to visit, one or more of their children in tow as he walked in to see her, to give her a taste of home on her bad days. The room had a sense of comfort to it. Pictures of them and the kids on her desk, framed drawings from kindergarten and 1st-grade classes proudly displayed on the bookcase - bright messy lines and shapes standing out against the dark wood and gloomy nature of the work Emily did here.

The work Aaron had left behind when Hugo was born.

He was used to stepping into her office and it not being his, but this time it feels like he’s stepped back in time, like he could blink and the nameplate on her desk would transform into his. She’s busy fussing with the pictures of their family, turning them so they can’t be seen unless someone is sitting in her desk chair.

“I should put these away,” Emily says, pulling him out of his thoughts as she turns to the bookcase and reaches for a drawing Leo had presented her with one day after school, 5 stick figures drawn in front of a house staring back at her - all brightly coloured and wobbly lines. She runs her finger over the glass, drawing in a shaky breath as she traces the outline of their home and then she clears her throat, reaching for the others and piling them on top of each other, “Don’t want these to be the reason they find out about the kids.” She opens one of her desk drawers and gently places the drawings in there, her gaze lingering on the picture on top, something Stella had drawn - a mess of scribbles she’d claimed was their cat, Sergio. She blows out a slow breath and closes the drawer, standing up straight again as she looks over at her husband, her heart clenching at the look on his face, how lost he looks. She walks over and grabs his hand, linking their fingers together as she squeezes gently, her smile soft when he looks up at her, “How are you doing?”

He huffs out a breath and squeezes her hand back, “This is what I’ve wanted for years. But now it’s happening…I’m…”

He drifts off, not sure how to put into words how he was feeling. He was excited to see his son. Devastated he’d lost out on so much time with him. Guilty that he and Haley had been gone for so long when Foyet hadn’t been a threat for years. Aaron feels it all churn in his gut, nausea threatening to climb up his throat as he swallows thickly.

Emily wraps her arms around him and pulls him close, sucking in a deep breath when he holds her tightly, a desperation to his grip she hadn’t felt in years, “I know, honey,” she says, turning her head to kiss him, her lips catching his jaw, “I know.”

A knock on the door draws them apart, and she smiles tightly at Matt when he pushes the door open, “They’re here.”

“Thanks, Matt,” Emily says, clearing her throat as she steps away from her husband, her fingers slipping out of his as she puts a little space between them, wanting to make sure he got to do this at his pace, “Send them in.”

He nods and walks back out, leaving them alone again. The few seconds it takes for there to be another knock on the door feels like an eternity, the way their life together had been drawing to a close, a quiet, peaceful death as the new one is brought to life.

The first thing Aaron thinks when he sees Jack is how tall he is. He’s towering above Haley. All long awkward long limbs that probably appeared overnight one day, a moment Aaron remembered himself when he was a teenager. He’s skinny, his eyes and hair are Haley’s, but other than that he looks like him. He looks like his little brothers he doesn’t know exist. His nervous expression one he’d seen countless times on Hugo and Leo’s faces, one he remembered from a lifetime ago when Jack was no older than Stella and broke a picture frame, his eyes wide as he waited to be in trouble.

They stand in silence, staring at each other, unsure what to say or where to start. The time they’d lost a chasm that they could not cross even though they were just a few feet apart.

“Haley,” Emily says, breaking the silence, knowing someone had to as she steps forward. She falters when she’s within reaching distance of the other woman unsure whether she should shake her hand or hug her. She clears her throat, settling for crossing her arms over her chest so she doesn’t make this any more awkward, “It’s…good to see you.”

Haley clears her throat and nods, her blonde hair now shorter than it once was, flecks of grey blended into it, wrinkles around her eyes that Aaron once thought he’d watch bloom, “You too,” she says, her eyes flicking back and forth between her and Aaron, her lips pressed together, “I wasn’t expecting that we’d have company.”

“Oh,” Emily says, her eyebrows furrowing as she scrambles internally, unsure what she should say, “Well-”

“She’s my…” Aaron clears his throat, his voice croaking now he’d found it, “She’s my wife.”

Haley’s eyes go wide and she looks at their hands, at the matching gold bands and she blows out a slow breath, “Oh,” she says, licking her lower lip, “I see.”

They fall into silence again. Deafening and awkward and overwhelming and Emily hates it. Hates that this wasn’t like a reunion you’d see in a cheesy made-for-TV movie, when people were brought together after years apart as if nothing had changed. But so much had changed. So much had happened, and Jack and Aaron didn’t know each other because of it, and part of her wanted to go to the crematorium and find something creative to do with Foyet’s remains because of it.

“Why don’t we sit down?” Emily suggests, looking over at her husband who nods, his smile fleeting but grateful as they all walk over to the couch. Emily sits on the arm of it next to her husband, lets him tug her closer, use her as a comfort blanket, his arm hooked over her legs. She looks at Jack, “I don’t know if you remember me, but-”

“You’re Emily,” he says, his voice deeper than either of them had expected, “You were on my Dad’s team.”

She smiles and nods, “That’s right.”

“This is…so weird,” Jack says, looking at Aaron, his eyebrows knitting together, “You’re older than I remember.”

Aaron laughs, the sound catching in his chest before he can stop it, “You’re older than I remember too buddy.”

It breaks the tension, the way they all laugh for a second easing something in the air. They talk for a while, asking Jack about what he enjoyed at school - French - and what he did for fun - track. Aaron beams with pride he worries may be misplaced when Haley explains Jack already had a space on the high school track team even though he was still in middle school. That he was that good they’d already poached him. Haley tells them about her job, about how she’d gone back to school and got a qualification in child care, that she managed a daycare centre in the small town they’d called home all these years. If anyone else was listening in, it would seem like old friends catching up. Idle chit-chat to pass the time on a street corner before agreeing to not be strangers before going their separate ways.

“What about you two?” Haley says, looking at their linked hands on Emily’s lap, “How long have you been together?”

“Eight years,” Aaron says, squeezing his wife’s hand, “Close to nine.”

Haley smiles politely, “I’ll be honest, I always thought there was something there,” she says, her smile getting wider when Aaron frowns, “It’s true - just ask Jess. I said it to her before…” she drifts off and clears her throat, “Anyway. That doesn’t matter. How did it happen?”

“I was away for a while,” Emily says, being as purposely vague about her time in Paris as she could be, the memories of it still painful after all these years, “And I came back and went to his place…we’ve been together ever since.”

Despite everything, Aaron feels warmth spread through his chest at the memory of it. The look on her face, when he opened his door to her, stood there on his doormat, still wearing the outfit she’d work to the Senate Committee, a shine in her eyes he now knew had been love.

“Are you with anyone?” Aaron asks without thinking, cursing himself as he says it, sure it’s too intrusive, “You don’t have to-”

“No it’s okay,” Haley replies, “There’s…there is someone but I’ve never let it get serious,” she says, her lips pressed together, “Just in case.” She doesn’t have to explain what she means, they all know what she hasn’t said. That her life was on hold just in case this very thing happened, in case she was suddenly pulled from her life in a second with no questions asked. She clears her throat again before she carries on, “Do you have kids?” She asks, and Emily can tell she’s asked on instinct, that it was a follow-up question she’d ask anyone if she was getting to know them, her flashing as she realises what she’s asked, her assumption that they didn’t have children clear, “I’m sorry, that was-”

“Actually,” Aaron says, cutting her off, his grip on Emily’s hand bordering on painful, “We do.”

The silence returns with a deafening crack. Loud and painful as Jack’s brow furrows and Haley heaves in a deep breath, her jaw clenched before she replies, “You do?”

“Yes, we do,” Emily nods and she squeezes Aaron’s hand before she disconnects herself from him. She walks the short distance to the desk and picks up one of the framed photos, smiling briefly at the photo of her, Aaron and the kids. She turns back, not missing how Haley’s attention has been drawn to her nameplate on the desk, and she passes the picture to her, sure that any warring emotions would be calmed by seeing her children’s sweet faces, just three more innocents pulled into one dead man’s determination for power and control. She sits back down on the arm of the couch, reaching for Aaron’s hand again, “Hugo is 7, Leo is 5 and Stella is 3.”

“You had more kids?” Jack asks, frowning as he looks between Aaron and the picture in his mother’s hands, his siblings all smiling up at him from behind glass. A moment in time of a normal family life that he’d only been able to dream about. He stands up, forced upwards by his emotions and he clears his throat, “I want to go.”

“Jack-” Aaron says, standing up too, not letting go of Emily’s hand, “I know this isn’t easy.”

“Can we go, please?” Jack says, looking at his mother, ignoring his father’s gaze and Haley nods, leaving the picture in her hands on the couch as she stands.

“Of course, honey,” she says, smiling tightly as she looks back at Aaron and Emily, “I’ll call you,” she says, “We can talk again when everything is a little less…”

She drifts off and Aaron nods, holding Emily closer to stop himself from reaching out for his son, not wanting to cross any boundaries the teenager was firmly putting in place, “Jack, I-”

“I’ll wait in the hall,” Jack says, cutting over him as he steps out of the office, Aaron deflates, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly, and Emily wraps both of her hands around one of his as they watch Jack leave.

Haley sighs and closes her eyes, her grip on her purse tight as she looks at them, “It’s hard on him,” she says, her lips pressed together, “He’s spent years asking about you. We talked about you every night at bedtime when he was small and now we’ve come back and you’ve…moved on.” The way she speaks is full of anger neither Aaron nor Emily deserves, but that they know she isn’t wrong to feel and it hurts, a dagger to their guts that makes it momentarily hard to breathe, “Like I said,” she says, turning towards the door to follow her son, “I’ll call.”

Once they are alone again Aaron slips down onto the couch, his head in his hands as he lets out a shuddering breath, “That was…”

Emily sighs, her eyes temporarily drifting shut so she can gather herself before she sits down next to him, her hand on his back between his shoulder blades as she rubs circles there, “That was as good as it was going to be, I think,” she says, smiling encouragingly at him when he looks up at her, “It’s a lot. And he’s a kid. Being a teenager is rough at the best of times.”

He hums in agreement and rests his head on her shoulder, “I know it’s stupid, that it was never going to be easy,” he says, sinking further into her embrace when she wraps her arms around him, her hands holding his head to her chest, “But I really wish it was.”

She turns and kisses his forehead, taking a moment to breathe him in before she rests her cheek on the top of his head. She looks over at the other end of the couch, at the face down picture of her family, hidden from view, and she feels anxiety spark in her gut, a feeling that things were only going to get more painful and complicated taking up room in her chest.

“Me too, honey,” she says, holding him closer, “Me too.”

___

October 2012

“Everything looks good.”

The relief is palpable, her sigh stuttering as she looks from husband to her doctor, her smile wide and eyes shining, “Really?”

Aarons squeezes her hand, shifting as close as he can to her from where he’s sitting next to the bed, his elbows skimming her side. The doctor nods, her smile kind as she looks back at the ultrasound screen, “Your baby is measuring perfectly for how far along you are,” she assures her, “And the anatomy scan hasn’t shown any anomalies,” she smiles kindly, clearly used to the mix of relief and disbelief washing over the expectant parent’s faces, “Your baby looks perfect.”

Emily chokes on a sob, shaking her head at herself as she starts to cry, ��Damn it,” she sniffs, wiping her cheeks with the hand not linked in Aaron’s, “I cry at everything these days.”

The doctor chuckles politely and hands her some tissues, “Don’t worry, it’s totally normal,” she says, “I’ll print you some pictures in a minute, but before I do I just want to check if you still want to know what you’re having?”

Emily nods, her heart stuttering in her chest as she squeezes Aaron’s hand, her gaze flicking to him, his reassuring nod all she needs. In another life, she thinks she’d have waited to find out, but she knew what emotions would be attached to them having a boy. She wanted them to be prepared, to know whether they were having a son or a daughter, so whatever they might feel in this room would be long gone by the time their baby was born.

“Yeah,” she says, turning back to the doctor, “We want to find out.”

Aaron leans in closer, a kiss stamped against her knuckles as he trails his thumb across her forehead, desperate to be as close to her as possible. The doctor shifts the wand on Emily’s belly, the only sound in the room the clicking of buttons on the ultrasound machine as she focuses on the screen.

She smiles at them, “Congratulations - you’re having a boy.”

Emily’s joy is sharp. It’s overwhelming and almost suffocating as it fills her lungs, but it’s short-lived. Aaron’s hand briefly loosens around hers, his thumb stuttering on her forehead, and he doesn’t cover the flash of pain in his eyes before she looks at him. He smiles at her, as much happiness carved into his dimples as there was sadness, every moment in their life together tainted by what was missing from it.

“A boy, sweetheart,” his voice shaky in a way the doctor would mistake for excitement, “We’re having a boy.”

She smiles, her hand on his cheek as she pulls him in for a soft kiss, the taste of grief passing from his lips to hers, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, recovered from the news now, his happiness overtaking everything else, but it’s too late for her to have not noticed, for it to not forever be a part of this moment.

When they get home, Aaron excuses himself to the home office. She doesn’t question it, swallows down the pain she feels because she knows whatever he’s feeling is worse. She sits on the couch, an ultrasound picture in her hands as she stares at it, trailing her fingers back and forth over the image of her son’s face, a smile flickering over her face at the slope of his nose.

“Sorry about the nose, sweet boy,” she says, placing her hand on her bump, her smile getting wider when she feels him move, a shifting beneath her skin she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to, love and joy spreading through her every time she felt it. She was excited for Aaron to feel it too, for the movements to get stronger and sharper so he could be a part of this, “Although,” she jokes, smiling when she feels more movement that she’d watched so carefully on the ultrasound screen earlier so she could picture it now, her eyes drifting closed as she imagines her son wiggling in her belly, “Daddy’s nose isn’t small either. So I think you were screwed either way,” her smile fades as she thinks about the sadness that permeated everything do with this. How even finding out they were having a little boy only highlighted what they were missing, “I love you so much, baby. Daddy does too. And we’ll do everything to make sure you’re safe.”

She isn’t sure how long she sits there, talking to her son about anything and everything, her fingers drawing patterns over her bump as she chases his movements. Eventually, she hears the office door open and her husband’s footsteps. She turns to look at him when he walks into the living room, her smile soft as their eyes meet.

“Hi,” she says, swallowing thickly as she looks back down at her bump, her throat clogged with emotions she can’t bring herself to name, “I was just telling him about his Aunt Pen,” she says, her smile shaking as Aaron comes over to join her on the couch, “And how she’ll buy him everything he ever wants.”

Aaron chuckles, a half-hearted thing that hangs in the air around them as he places his hand on her belly, “She will love spoiling you,” he says, his eyes meeting Emily’s, “We may have to tell her to calm down, it’s not like we can’t get him everything we need ourselves.”

She smiles, leaning in to kiss him, her lips soft against his, “Well,” she says, kissing him again, “You can be the one to have that conversation with her,” she says, pulling back, her lips pressed together, chasing the taste of him on her skin. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, the sadness he was trying his best to hide from her lingering in them. “I’m sorry.”

He frowns, his eyebrows knitting together as he tilts his head slightly, “What for sweetheart?”

She huffs out a breath, “I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head as she wipes tears from her cheeks, unsure when she’d even started crying, “For the fact we never got Foyet. That Jack and Haley are still gone. That my birth control may as well have been candy,” she laughs bitterly, leaning into his touch when he cups her cheek and wipes her tears for her, “That we’re having a boy. I know…” she looks down, her chest heaving, “I know it would have been easier if we were having a girl.”

“Em, you have nothing to apologise for,” he says fiercely, the sternness in his voice a contradiction to his soft touch on her cheek as he continues to wipe away fresh tears, “You are the reason I’m still standing after everything with Foyet,” he says, pressing his forehead against hers, “You’ve held me together since long before you showed up on my doorstep saying you had no place to stay,” they both chuckle, his desperate and hers wet at it catches in her throat, “We’ll get him one day. And the baby…” he swallows thickly, “We made him together. We’ll love him together too, and I could never be sorry about that,” he pulls back to kiss her forehead, “And, not to mention that Reid would remind you I’m the one who determines if we have a boy or a girl,” he smiles at her, a lopsided thing that warms her from the inside out, “You have nothing to apologise for, and I’ll tell you that however many times you need me to.”

She nods, leaning forward so her face is pressed against his chest, “I love you,” she says, sucking in a shaky breath.

“I love you too,” he says, rubbing circles on her back, “And him. I never want you to doubt that. I just…I just needed a moment.”

“I know,” she replies, smiling tightly when she pulls back, “I know,” she runs her fingers through his hair, “It’s hard,” she pauses, unsure if she should acknowledge the elephant in the room, but she pushes forward, not wanting anything unsaid between them, “Especially with Jack’s birthday coming up.”

He nods, his hold on her tightening, “Yeah,” he replies, shaking his head, “He’s turning 7 and I don’t even know what he likes. If he still likes Captain America or if he’s grown out of it. If he’s already riding a bike,” he smiles sadly, “Haley was always terrible at riding a bike so I wonder if someone else taught him.”

She knows she can’t say anything to make it better, so she moves to sit in his lap, her side pressed against his chest. It was the closest she could get to him these days, her bump already in the way of a chest to chest hug, and she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like it, that she didn’t enjoy being completely curled up in his arms.

“Do you want to do what we usually do on his birthday?” She asks, idly thinking about how they’d have a baby in tow next year, strapped to her chest or in her arms as they ate in Jack’s favourite diner before they went to the park and walked around, sad smiles on their faces as they watched children play. They could take their little boy on the swings, sit him in Emily’s lap as they barely moved back and forth and tell him all about his big brother he’d meet one day.

“Yeah,” he replies, kissing her forehead, “I’d like that,” he rests his hand on her belly, “Is he moving?”

She hums and nods, “Yeah. He is.”

“I can’t wait to feel it,” he says, his thumb stroking back and forth over her bump, “Now we know, we can start to think of names.”

She groans, “Most boy names suck,” she says, scrunching up her nose, “How did you come up with Jack?”

He chuckles, “It took a while,” he admits, “We kept trying to think of names that didn’t belong to a serial killer.”

She furrows her brow, a disbelieving chuckle catching in her throat, “Honey, you named him after the most prolific-”

“I know,” he says, cutting her off, “Trust me, I see the irony in it.”

She chuckles, and she rests her head on his shoulder and kisses his neck, “We should buy a book of names or something.”

He smiles, his chest warm with love and joy all because of her and the baby that lay beneath her skin, “I’ll go out and buy one tomorrow.”

They argue back and forth about names for weeks before they settle on Hugo, a name she’d chosen because it honoured the man called the father of science fiction, something that had earned her an eye roll from her husband and a low whisper about her being a nerd. He relents, because he was always going to, the joy in her eyes when she finally found a name she loved addictive to him. She smiles in victory when he agrees, and for the first time since she found herself looking at a positive pregnancy test, she allows herself to believe that everything would be okay.

#emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron x emily #hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss fan fic

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 1 year ago

Text

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 8

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,794

Hiccup learns. Or, well, he tries. And then he doesn’t.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, the earth is round, the earth is flat, quiet moments pt 2, Changewings

“Chores?”

“Yeah, you know, fetch water, deliver parts and do laundry. Clean carts, a bit of herding on the side, I wash down dragons sometimes for a few extra coins. Plus doing all of my stuff,” You picked at the sleeves of your tunic then decided better of it.

“Your stuff.” Hiccup stated.

“Laundry, clean out the hay in the barn, cook, repair the shed, which is really nasty by the way, I hate it, something’s always wrong. Like that.”

“That’s… A lot. And you’re not getting paid? For all of it?”

“Yeah. I am, I mean. I get food and board. Coin, I only get that sometimes. The stables get kind of chilly in the winter, otherwise it’s alright.”

Hiccup looked at you oddly, “No, no, it really is not. You live… in the stables.”

Most Vikings even across clans would take the time to hunker down together during the winter, especially during the devastating season even if they hadn’t yet gotten to the point where everyone had to be ushered into the Great Hall together. You knew at least that much, which was maybe why it came across as odd to Hiccup.

“I mean, yeah? I don't see you getting paid for working in the forge.” You shrugged.

“I guess, well, point, but also I get to build what I want with whatever I want. Which can get kind of… expensive.” You nodded. That made sense enough.

“Well, I guess it is what it is. I can’t really be picky, you know.”

You were both sitting on the hill in front of his house. He’d caught you in between jobs somehow. You always seemed to be busy.

There were a few Vikings below putting effort into rebuilding

“This is really comfy,” You sighed. While making a delivery for the Chief, Hiccup had come by and the two of you had stumbled into each other, getting whatever he had in his arms spilled all over onto your shirt and sizzled a bit.

It probably had something to do with the cleanup going on. You were just glad you cleaned up fast enough to avoid getting burned.

“It’s my favorite,” He said.

“Really?” You sat with your knees up to your nose, arms wrapped around your trousers, which were salvageable, though your skirt was not. Your arms were donned in red fabric of a familiar shade, which was extremely comfortable despite its scratchy exterior.

“You gave it to me, so…” Hiccup shrugged his shoulders oddly. He avoided looking in your eyes as he spoke.

“That’s awfully flattering.” You said kindly. You could tell why it was. Or maybe you were just extra thankful to be in something dry. Whatever Hiccup had been carrying was very sticky and hard to scrub off, which you had a ball doing, hidden away behind a curtain in their home with a small wash bin and rag.

You spent the whole time in a rush hoping that Stoick wouldn’t come back early and catch you in the nude, or something, despite the irrationality of it. That would be incredibly embarrassing.

“I’m sure,” Hiccup nodded his assent fiddly, before he gestured with his hands, laughing awkwardly, then staring down at his own knees, “But, you know. So, what brings you up here?”

You yawned, resting your hand over your mouth, “Well… Package for the Chief, mostly. Also, I wanted to say thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“For helping me out, earlier. I would have died, you know.”

There was some drama earlier, a Dragon attack that had something to do with lucky stones, which you didn’t have a lot of time for.

You paused running, probably not a very smart move, as you spotted a small group on the other side of the clearing standing far enough apart for you to watch and ogle as someone who you thought was Tuffnut pet the base of a fire tower.

“Oh, well,” Hiccup said, scratching his neck, “It was nothing.”

Hiccup was the one who got you out of the way in time. To not die. You owed him another favor, you guessed. You sighed.

In the time it took for either of you to come up with something new to say, Toothless came and lumbered in from the back. You’d seen him wander off there earlier. He probably spent a lot of time out when he wasn’t stuck like glue to Hiccup’s side. Berk was going through a very rare and treasured heat spell, which the dragons were very much taking advantage of.

“What do you think about?” Hiccup asked, leaning backwards.

You blinked at him, and at the set of bandages peeking out from under his green tunic.

“Not much. What I’m going to do later, what’s for dinner. I think about home sometimes. And… The world is round,” It was a bit random. Admittedly, You usually avoided talking about future your-world things, but you had gotten into a tizzy over a few things earlier with one of the Vikings by the fields. Maybe you were feeling a little peckish about it still.

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“But…”Hiccup raised his eyebrow, squinting quizzically, “The world isn’t round.”

This world, apparently, did not operate on cartoon physics. It would have been a really cruel joke on you if it had, you thought, You double checked. It was just the people. So there was no reason as to why they shouldn’t be able to get it.

“You’re kidding, right? Come on, Toothless.”

Toothless deadpanned at him, turning around to walk away, his tail ending up smacking Hiccup in the head and arms as he made an effort to protect his face.

“Oh, wow, great, thanks, Bud.”

Hiccup squinted, and waved his arms at his dragon, mock brushing him away.

“See? He agrees.” You grinned.

Hiccup turned to look at you, “That’s my best friend, if you would believe it.”

“Are you sure about that?” You sniped, “Because I’m not so sure about that.”

“I can tell.” He deadpanned, shrugging playfully.

You shook your head. There were more important things to be talking about. Like…

“I don’t understand how you guys fly around all the time and you still don’t know the earth is round,” You snickered.

“It’s not,” He insisted, “Flying wouldn’t change that.”

“It would!” You insisted, “It’s all about perspective.”

You shook your head as one of a pair of vikings down below dropped a large log from his shoulder, causing it to roll off and back towards the other houses.

“You’re up in the air, or somewhere up high, really, and you see that the horizon line is round.” You’d been up to Gothi's enough to be sure, “It’s like when you look really close at a ball or something. And the ball is spinning a lot. It’s physics. Science.”

“What kind of science? The Thorston kind? I find it hard to believe, if that’s the case.”

At some point, you realized that, despite it all, he didn’t actually know a lot about you. Where you came from, what your family was like, if you had one. What you liked to do. You really did have to explain.

You wrinkled your nose at his sarcasm, ignoring it as you decided to go on, “The world is really heavy. Like I said, it also spins. Like when you sit on something soft and it sinks. It works like that for both the top and bottom. It’s Gravity.” You used the English word for it.

There was a thump on the roof above you as a flock of Terrors landed by your feet. Probably one from the group. They tended to spin out of control often, especially if it was breezy out.

“It’s common knowledge where I come from,” You said,

“Is it?” Hiccup squinted, as if he was seeing you in a whole new light. A whole new, mental light, “Well, I don’t know about the whole round thing, but- What next, are you going to tell me that the sun revolves around Midgard?”

“Also yes,” You interjected, with a vendetta, gesturing with both hands, “Why do you guys always lead with that? Is it really that crazy of an idea? Seriously.”

You glowered at him, “I think you all are busted in the head. Or the lightning scrambled your brain, or something, because I have no idea how you’re seeing this.”

“What? No,” Hiccup said, “No, I’m perfectly healthy.”

“Yeah,” You snorted, “You guys lack what I would call common sense.”

There was a loud rumbling from back inside the Haddock House. It was definitely Toothless. At least someone had your back. It probably didn’t help that the only ones who agreed with you were the twins.

Hiccup turned back to shoot a nasty look at Toothless, probably forgetting about his bandages. And the burnt skin under.

“I probably owe you another favor, don’t I?” You winced as he jerked back around, cursing. It was kind of silly, and kind of nerve-wracking watching his scrawny shoulders curl in over his stomach.

“Nah,” Hiccup looked up from his knees and feet, resting on the steps to his home, to you, and then back, trying to hide his wheezing, “This one’s… on the house.”

Your hands hovered over his bak unsurely, worried if you tried to help you might agitate his burns more. You would probably take a trip up to Gothi later and ask if she had anything more to use to help.

“And, well, We’re Vikings.” Hiccup grimaced, “And, hey, I have some common sense, too.”

You stayed silent, giving Hiccup a moment as he gathered himself. You hoped he hadn’t any acid left in his skin. You felt awful about it.

Hiccup sat up steadily, and you made sure to scoot back and give him space as he did. He kept an unhandy smile on his face, the corner of his mouth twitching, eyebrows pushing up as you attempted to make sure he was alright.

Your face fell, molding into something more confused, as he mouth a question under his breath.

“Why did you leave?”

“What?”

“Sorry, I’ve just… Been wondering. What brought you to Berk?” Hiccup brought a shaky hand back up to his neck.

You felt your eyes unfocus a bit.

You guessed it was probably the natural progression of things. You wondered whether you were supposed to come up with something, or just not. You decided on something more square in the middle.

“I don’t know,” You huffed, a little lost, “One day I just started walking and ended up here.”

Hiccup looked at you skeptically, though not without sympathy. You were on an island surrounded by all water, but still. You stood up straight, puffing out your chest.

“Take it metaphorically, if you don’t believe me.”

#how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #toothless #fem reader #female reader

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supersoakerfullofblood · 7 months ago

Text

Beta Reading, Workshopping, and Peer Editing for Indie Writers: a Guide

Beta reading is a term you might hear tossed out as a vague buzzword, kind of like how people talk about "character development" and "worldbuilding"; I've made a bunch of posts to demystify words in that latter category, but beta reading is a different type of term. Where those latter words and their ilk are terms of craft, things we can discuss in theory ("this is how I think characters are developed best"), beta reading is about a novel after its first draft and first wave-ish of edits. Pretty much everything before and after the production of a novel or story is purely up to what works best for the writer, so this post will introduce beta reading if it's new to you, and I'll give you my process if you want to tinker with it!

Beta reading is when interested readers work through your polished manuscript and make workshop comments so you can make an extra wave of edits. Publishing houses usually have two waves of this type of reading--alpha reading (AR) and beta reading (BR). If you can find enough people to alpha read for you (and you want alpha readers), go for it! But if you're confident in your grammar, your ability to craft a scene and characters, and the other formalities of creative writing, alpha reading isn't a requirement (as an indie. If you ever query your work to a house, it'll probably go through alpha reading).

Alpha reading is to catch grammar and syntax slips, mischaracterizations, character development that doesn't add up, excesses of adverbs and adjectives, and other craft faux-pas that the average reader wouldn't catch. Your alpha readers should pretty exclusively be other writers.

Beta reading is to gauge what your audience is thinking or feeling while they read your work. If your beta readers want to make alpha reading comments ("I don't feel like [character] would do that here"), that's A-okay, especially if you didn't have alpha readers, but that shouldn't be your chief concern with your betas. These are your audience surrogates! The job of beta readers is to tell you what they think or feel: "I like this," "I don't like this"; "This paragraph hit me hard"; "This word is confusing"; etc. If they add more words to their comments, that's A-okay ("I like this because these words go well together" or "This word is confusing--does it mean X or Y?") but not necessary! If your beta readers are your audience and not people who really get how writing works, then you should be taking any reasonings in their comments as loose, loose suggestions. Maybe those words that go well together to one reader feel, as you look at them a second time, cliche. Or perhaps the confusing nature of a word or phrase was by design. In any case, try to see your beta readers as a "live audience reaction" and not a "live reactionary critique."

One aside about alpha/beta reading: "this is bad" and "this is good" comments are toxic and should be avoided at all costs. Tell your readers to avoid these before they start writing. No good can come from these. Even "I don't like this" and "I like this" are worlds better, though still not great. But absolutely warn your readers against using objective blanket statements like "good/bad" as they read.

Now that we've laid the foundations, I'll go into my own process so hopefully everything above makes more sense.

Before I give my manuscript to beta readers, I go through 2-3 waves of revision on my own. After I finish my first draft, I wait about a month to let the dust settle, to gain at least a little emotional distance from the project so I can look at it a little more objectively. Then, I read it through, revising for content: cut this scene, add a scene here, chop paragraphs and sentences, add paragraphs and sentences, move this chapter here, make sure this character actually functions as he should in the narrative, etc. These are my macro edits.

Then I let it sit a week or two and go into line editing: punctuation and syntax, word choice, tweaking figurative language, etc. Close pruning of your work. Filing your nails after you've clipped them.

The third read-through is at a normal reading pace, as if you were a reader, to catch anything that may have slipped past during your close edits and revisions. This third read-through is likely the first time you've read your manuscript as it should be read--a book! This step, then, is a victory lap, but it's also one last troubleshoot. You might not find the errors in a computer program until you run the program. So too it is with writing.

This is a lot of work! You might want to relegate these tasks to your readers, but DO NOT!!! If you're still heavily revising and editing your work, don't let your readers to the table. This is your work and your story, and outside influence will stray it from what you want. Own this. Buckle down. Read.

Once you've got your polished draft, it's time to contact your readers! I would recommend 4-6 readers total unless you think you can handle more cooks in your kitchen at a time (I cannot). I typically just ask some of my friends to beta for me. Here's an example text:

"Hey all! I finished that book about church camp a while ago and was wondering if you'd beta read for me! Basically, I'd just need you to read through the book and make comments in the sidebar whenever you like something, don't understand something, are excited or intrigued by something, or other general impressions. You can comment however often or little you feel comfortable with--some people make one comment a chapter, others make multiple comments a page--anything works great. Really all you shouldn't comment are blanket statements of "this is bad" or "this is good," but feel free even to say stuff like "I like this" or "I don't like this." Just avoid objective language when possible.

I don't have any money for this, so sorry in advance, and if possible, I'd love for all of my beta reading to be done by the end of summer.

Let me know if you're down or not! :)"

I really have had readers comment that much and that little on my manuscripts. This is normal. If your readers are supposed to comment whenever something in their attention triggers, different readers' attentions will trigger differently.

It's also a wise idea to form your beta reading group (again, especially if you aren't doing a wave of alpha reading) as a mix of people from different backgrounds and writing experience. My church camp novel group is below:

Person A who went to church camp with me, is into poetry

Person B is into fanfiction, little church experience, mindful of social issues

Person C has little church or writing experience, mindful of social issues

Person D is very into writing, pretty into church

Person E is very into social issues and church, not a writer

I would advise to find a similar balance of people who are into your subject matter and those who aren't.

It's also helpful to give them a timeframe to read by, and make this longer than they need. I gave people ~two months for my ~60k-word novel.

Also, as a little incentive for your readers, plan something for when everyone's done! A post-beta party! Something like this will also encourage you through the process :)

Once you have your betas' comments, it's time for one last wave of revisions. Compile these comments however you like, and start tweaking. I like to have each beta's document open so I can cross-reference while I work through my own doc. And remember: these are audience comments, not writer comments (unless you explicitly brought writers on). If someone says something confuses them, that might just be their cross to bear. If none of your other betas were confused by it, or if one of your betas compliments the same section, it may be worth ignoring that first comment. Try to rule with the majority when you can, and take everything with a grain of salt. "I don't like this" doesn't mean it needs to be changed. It means you should figure out why that reader doesn't like it.

If you have any questions, my asks are open! Again, this is a pretty open concept where anything works as long as it works for you, so don't feel pressured to "get it right." But if you have any questions or suggestions, I'm all ears :)

Hope this helps!

#writeblr #writing #writing advice #fanfic #writers on tumblr #creative writing #bookblr #writing questions #booklr #writerscommunity #reading

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ohmotherwhereartthou-if · 4 months ago

Note

More info about Ludovica's former husband? I want to know the lengths of his douchebaggery.

I am almost a whole year late on this one but here is what I got on the asshole, chief. 🫡

Also, disclaimer: This dude is absolute human garbage, dark subjects such as - (pedophillia, non-con, domestic/verbal abuse, child loss, miscarriage, under age drinking) below!

I don't honestly know if I have ever stated a official name for him anywhere yet. It's for the most part undecided because the greatest thing he ever did was die, giving him a name is so low on my list of priorities, so he will get one whenever he gets one.

He was in his early 40s when he all but purchased Ludovica from her parents in the form of offering a very large dowry for her. He saw her sing at one of her parents parties when she was a young teen (A underage teen I might add, she was close to 18 but not quite there yet), he was attracted to her voice and youthful beauty like an absolute creep.

Made his money by loan sharking lower class farmers and forgiving their debts in exchange for unreasonable amounts of their harvest. Leaving them starving and their daughters traumatized, it was from these encounters he developed his disgusting youthful taste in women. He then later made some pretty powerful connections that allowed him to rise in rank and social status, he hoarded his money and made a lot of smart short term investments.

He was always rather abusive and very neglectful, Ludovica was very lonely but greatly preferred his absence rather than him ever giving her any thought.

He would treat Vica like a literal object, coming and going as he pleased without ever really having a conversation with her. He had no need to ever tell her what he was doing, would only call her when he wanted something from her or when he wanted to show her off. Which he did a lot.

Loved to brag about his young wife; about how pretty she looked and how nice she sang. Would have her entertain his guests, who could be handsy at times. Ludovica would complain but he would tell her to shut up and keep sitting pretty; only intervening if someone was trying to push it too far. Not out of concern for Vica but out of his own pride, he would look weak if another man publicly was getting too cozy with his wife.

Vica would do her best to hide whenever he was throwing a party but he would drag her out of her room with an iron grip on her forearms. Definitely always leaving bruised but smartly only doing so where they couldn't be easily seen.

He found it funny how Ludovica would drink so much, seeing her drunk was the closest thing to him ever seeing her relaxed. He probably did know that she drank so much because of him and from her wanting to disassociate, but he really would care much so long as she didn't act a fool in front of his guests.

He figured Vica would get pregnant eventually and was pleased that he could start working on securing an heir for his legacy. Spoke a lot about how having a daughter would be useless until he got a son, he needs to have his lineage properly set up before he can later plan to wed daughters off to the highest bidders. Hearing him say that made Ludovica genuinely vomit out of pure disgust, lucky she was able to play it off as morning sickness.

When Vica had miscarried the baby he was more annoyed at her than anything, her failure to properly function as a female just set his legacy plans back by months. "Alas it is no great matter, we could just simply have another." were his exact words when he was no longer annoyed about the child's passing. He didn't even mourn the loss of the child's life for a mere second, treating it as if the life that was once growing inside Vica was absolutely worthless.

That is what I got for now, there is probably more but I gotta get to writing Ludovica's story to fully figure out everything this asshole did to her.

My poor baby Vica. 😭

RIP (Rest in Piss), bozo. 💩

#omwat #ask #ludovica #interactive games #interactive fiction #interact if #if game #if

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ohmypawsandwhiskers · 23 days ago

Text

It's WIP Wednesday!

I actually remembered this time!

Here's a snippet of the birthday thing I've been working on for Erwin's birthday (however late I may be)

The cobwebs crowd the corners and crevices of the abandoned school house, making the single classroom and it’s long tables seem more like a mausoleum than a former place of learning. Beyond the grimy glass, the people of Emmrich distract amble about their way, wearing smiles and bright eyes as the mourning of the teenage boy goes unnoticed, save for whomever just waltzed in behind him.

“Erwin, we were looking everywhere-“ her voice, that is beginning to become a soothing constant in his life, pauses as Dani’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder. “You okay?”

He swallows back the tears once more and turns to face her with a raised eyebrow. “You were looking for me?”

He hardly expected anyone to be around- it’s why he is here in the school house, spending his first birthday alone in the musty room. It is the closest he can get to spending it with his father, even if it is a ghost of a memory. Even if his mistake cost him his father- all so the government could ensure the peace and prosperity continued.

She tilts her head slightly, golden eyes scanning him over for some sign of a joke. “Seriously? Didn’t you get my letter?”

He shakes his head, trying to piece together what might have brought her here.

“So, you’re telling me I went through the effort of practicing my letters only for it to not reach you? See, this is why I didn’t learn to write in the first place! What’s the point of learning a different form of communication if it doesn’t even reach the person, huh?”

“You wrote me?” It comes a shock. The times he tried to work with her on her penmanship as she bemoaned the entire process- doing everything it took to not sit down and learn that he had been afraid to tell Chief he would be unable to actually teach her.

“Yeah!” She throws up her hands in exasperation. “I actually put effort into it, making it all fancy and shit for you, only to find out you didn’t get to see all your hard work payoff!” Dani huffs and looks around the room, distracted from her tirade as he can practically see the cogs in her mind wheeling as they piece together this place. The frustration fades from her face and relaxes into cautious understanding. “Your dad’s school house?”

Erwin can feel the heat rush to his cheeks as he nods, crossing his arms over his chest as he prepares himself for questions.

“It’s a bit of a shit-hole now, isn’t it?” Her words remind him of their first interaction less than a year ago- it had been brisk and jarring, but he found her words and tone sometimes failed to reflect the underlying emotion behind it all. “You’re choosing to spend a beautiful day inside some neglected place conveniently forgotten by the district’s lords instead of being outside?”

“It’s my birthday,” he admits, knowing she would drag this conversation out if he didn’t head her off. “It’s the first one on my own, and I suppose I just wanted to not be alone.”

Dani purses her lips to hide a smirk. “Hmm, yes, spiders do make great companions. Great conversationalists, I’ve heard.”

“Is there a point to your sarcasm, Dani?”

“Yes, it’s to get you out of your cruddy mood and get going! We’re going to be late! I’m just laying out your choices: spend your birthday chatting to ghosties and spiders, or spend time with me and a bunch of folks that care about you.”

Like the scales of justice she holds out her hands on either side of her, rocking side to side with the imaginary weight of his choices. Erwin reaches out and catches her wrist mid-drop to halt the movement.

“You never did say where we were going- that’s hardly enough to sway a choice. Maybe spiders would be the perfect birthday companions.” Already, his glum mood is starting to crack as a small smile accompanies his counterpoint.

No pressure tags: @askweisswolf @jayteacups @sleepy-sham @deepmushrooms @topaz-carbuncle @the-rebel-archivist @the-mpreg-guy and anyone else that would like to do this! I always get nervous tagging folks

#paw's wips #fic: odam #oc: lozen #erwin smith #aot erwin #erwin x oc #wip wednesday

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issdisgrace · 1 year ago

Text

SUPRISE VISIT

WARNINGS: None, unless your counting swearing

Walking down the street, I pass a group of men bickering back and forth. I smile to myself as I come to a stop in front of the door of the restaurant that read The Beef. This was the restaurant Carmy had recently inherited from his brother after his death. It wasn’t bad a little old looking, but nice none the less. Opening the door of The Beef the bell above the door rings out alerting the workers. A man in his 30s or 40s coming out of the kitchen.

“What can I get you?” I notice the way he ever so slightly sizes me up thinking of the chance he would have if I caused problems.

“I’m here to see Carmen.” He nods before yelling out.

“Ahh, Carmy there’s a guy in a suit out here asking for you. I think you’re in trouble.” I laugh silently to myself. He’s far form in trouble.

“Give me a minute. I’ll be right there.”

“You heard the man give him a minute. So, can I get you something?”

I look from him to the menu that sits above him, scanning the menu. Nothing really standing out to me.

“What do you recommend?”

“I personally love the Philly Cheesesteak. We make the bread here in the house and we get the streak fresh each day.”

“Sounds good. I’ll take that and water.”

“Alright, that will be 10 bucks.” I take out my wallet and take out a 20 and hand it to him.

“Keep the change.”

“Thanks, I’ll get your order started right up.”

Just as he says that, the door leading to the kitchen swings open revealing Carmen. He walks out and our eyes meet.

“Y/n? What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be in New York for a couple more days.” Carmen questions as he walks towards me. The other man disappearing to where Carmen came from.

“Managed to wrap up things quicker than expected. So I thought I’d fly here to surprise you and to get something to eat. First class plane food can’t beat anything made in a kitchen that your chief of.” Carmen nods, walking around the counter before engulfing me into a hug. Hugging him back, I kissed the top of his head.

“I missed you.” He says into my shoulder.

“I missed you too, my love. Also, I have surprise for you.”

“What is it?” He says, pulling back from the hug. I reach into my front left pocket and pull out a set of keys. I hold them out for him.

“What are these?”

“These my love are the keys to our home right here in Chicago.”

“What? How?”

“An old friend of mine hooked me up. It’s a 4 bedroom, 4 and a half bath, tall ceilings, big windows, in a nice spot.”

“But what about your job?”

“I transferred to the firm here in Chicago and I’ll be making a little more than I was.”

“That’s great Y/n.”

“Yes, it is, and it also means I’ll have a little more time to spend with you. I was thinking maybe we could go on a little vacation.”

“I’m sorry I can’t. The guys need me here.”

“I don’t think the place will burn down without you here. You need some time to relax and ….”

“Got your Philly Cheesesteak, fresh off the grill. Here you go.” The man says, sliding the Philly cheese steak across the counter.

“Thank you.” I say. He nods before turning around to get my water out of the fridge. He places it on the counter in front of us.

“So you two a thing.” He asks, gesturing between me and Carmen.

“Richie met my fiancée Y/n. Y/n meet Richie. He’s our resident smart ass.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n. Didn’t know Carmy had it in him to be with someone long enough to get engaged. You paying him or something?”

“Nice to meet you too Richie and no I’m not paying Carmen.”

“Hmm, could have fooled me. What you do for work?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“What type of lawyer are you? I could use one. I got another custody hearing in a couple of weeks.”

“Richie, you are not going to use my fiancée as a way to get out of paying for child support.”

“Hey, I’m trying to get weekend visitations. I don’t care about the stupid money.”

“I could probably help you out with that. I’d just need prior custody and child support agreements.”

“Sweet, thank you.”

“Alright, alright Richie fuck off back to the kitchen.”

“Alright, no need to be grouchy, Carmy. I’m not gonna steal your man. I don’t like men like that.” With that Richie went to the back, out of sight. Alone again, I look down at Carmen.

“There was no need to be so rude, Carmen.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just Richie somehow manages to get people to help him, then he messes it up and ends in worse trouble.”

“It’s ok. I’m happy to help and plus, if he’s going to be someone I’ll see around a lot I might as well get to know him.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am, love.” I say looking down on the watch and notice it was 1.

“I’m sorry to cut things short, my love. But the movers should be there at the house soon, and I’ll need to let them in. What time will you get done here tonight?”

“7 maybe 8.”

“Alright, I’ll be back then my love. I love you so much.” I say, giving him a quick kiss before grabbing my Philly and my water.

“I love you too Y/n.” I give him another kiss before quickly leaving The Beef. I smile to myself. I feel good about this. This feels like a new chapter for me and Carmen. I can’t wait to see where this goes.

#carmen carmy berzatto #the bear #carmen carmy berzatto x male reader #carmen carmy berzatto x reader #the bear x male reader #the bear x reader

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gx-gameon · 6 months ago

Note

Because the idea is eating at my brain from seeing the asks about Aknamkanon helping Jaden, but Atem's entire court helping Jaden in Season 1.

Jaden about to be attacked by Gravekeepers despite winning that one duel? Mahad has come to shame the masses.

Need someone to help with the Duel Monsters Spirit Day? Mana and Dark Magician Girl are here to help.

Atticus having nightmares? Jaden asks if Shada or Karim can help.

Aknamkanon may be a grandfather, but this also means that Atem's old friends are aunts and uncles just like with Yugi's friends.

Oh I love this! Again probably not cannon.

But it all just lines up so well. Season 1 has a lot of callbacks to DM and it just makes this all so easy.

The Gravekeepers

The court watches over Jaden’s shadow game with the Gavekeepers. They are not happy about the shadow game but Jaden has been in two already and he accepted before they could step in.

Jaden wins and the Gravekeepers attack him anyways, the leader stops them and the court thinks that’s it. Jaden’s friends are freed and they are ready to leave when they are surrounded.

Gravekeepers assent and chief step in to try and sway the crowd but it’s not working. They are determined to keep Jaden and his friend there.

Suddenly a blast of golden light shots down between Jaden and the Gravekeepers. Mahad stands there in all his glory and the Gravekeepers immediately stand down. “Right this way my p-“ he pauses as he was about to call Jaden his prince in front of all of his friends and that would have raised some questions. He can see the slight panic on Jaden’s face. He quickly changes his words “friends. I’ll show you the way back to your world.” And he takes them back home, makeing sure they all arrive safely, before telling the Gravekeepers off and reporting to Atem.

Duel spirit day.

This one I was already planning on doing g because it is Dark Magician Girl’s spirit that comes to duel Jaden

This is absolutely Aunt Mana coming to spend time with her nephew.

At this point I’m half convinced the school sits on a “ley line” as a way to explain why duel spirits and dimensional whole pop up here every other week.

Manna has waited for years to be able to duel Jaden on here own. She pops into Atem and Yugi’s duels sometimes and every time the duel Jaden or their friends it looks like such fun.

Plus what a great way to spend the day with your nephew, doing his favorite activity.

She eats up the crowds attention, though she’s not so happy with them booing Jaden just because she winning. They’re having fun right now.

I never thought of him reaching out to Shada, Karim, or Isis.

But they would be great at helping him solve a lot of problems

Shada still having the ability to walk through someone’s mind and heart. He would help a lot in restoring Atticus’s memories or helping with Trauma.

Karim’s scales ability is the ability to fuse monsters. That was his job back in Egypt, to fuse monsters together. You have to believe that him and Jaden get on well if they ever did meet.

Isis has such a maternal attitude in the dub. She absolutely watches over Jaden and helps wherever she can.

Because you’re right they are Atem’s family and they absolutely watch over Atem and his new family in the realm of the living. They have to adore Jaden.

#jaden yuki #judai yuki #yugioh gx #dad yugi #atem #yami yugi #pharaoh atem #yugioh mana #priest mahad #dark magician girl

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sometimes-i-write-4-you · 7 months ago

Text

Heartless - a criminal minds episode\\part 2

part 1, part 3, masterlist

- english is not my first language please exuse any spelling or grammer mistakes.

- this case is made up

- it happens around the.. 6th season, i think? so the team is Hotch, dave, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and reid

- it will end up being Reidxreader kinda, tho my main focous is to create a plot line for an episode with a (y\n) charecter.

- lmk what you think - i try to make the charectes as in charecter i can :)

As per Hotches orders, once they've landed Reid and dave went to the MEs office, to take a look at the bodies. (y\n), prentiss and JJ joined Hotch and Morgan at the local police station, tho when they arrived the 5 of them split up - Hotch and morgan setteled in the station and talked to the chief officer, while the rest started interviewing the ex-soon-to-be-wives. … "Mr. Clark, hello, i am SSA prentiss" Emily says, shaking his hand as she sat down. He is wearing his work uniforms - a polo shirt with the symbol of the garage he workes for and a pair of dirty jeans with stains that are probably impossible to remove.

"i am so sorry for your loss, i can't even imagine what you are going through. The guy who was sitting across from her nodded, "thank you" he smiles weakly, clearly forcing himself to keep a more profational deminor, thoe he wasn't sure why, "and please, call me Daniel. mr. Clark is my dad". Prentiss smiles at him, trying to be comforting. "well, Daniel, i have a few questions for you, this might be… not so easy to hear, so take a moment, if you feel like you need it" Emily says, taking a breath herself.

This guy was already heartbroken over his murderd fiance, and now she's about to ask him if there is any chance he was being cheathed on. What an awful way to learn your partner may have been unfaithful. "go on, i am ready for whatever it is. i just want to know who did this to my… to the love of my life" Daniel says, and so Emily asks the question she has to. "Daniel, were there ever any suspitions your fiance was cheating on you?"

… "Mrs. garisson, hey" JJ smiles at the poor woman sitting on the padded chair, eyes red and hair in a messy bun. She is wearing a nice enough dress, clearly attempting to look okay. Layla wipes away the tears streaming down her face. "Hey" she says in a weak voice. "my name is Jennifer Jeroue, i am here with the FBI, we came to investigate what happend to James". "Thank you" Layla says, "i- i heard there were others. Other ones who lost.. lost their Fiance, others that…" she tries to finish the senence but failes. Her cries are painful for JJ to hear.

"Jennifer… why him? of all the people…" Layle askes, "he is such a great guy, everyone…" she stops, realising she is talking in present, "liked him. He was always so kind, and nice…" she continues to talk, tripping on her words. JJ lookes at her, wondering how would she be able to break her heart all over again. "uhm, Layla, i have to ask you this question - don't take this in the wrong way, please, we are just trying to make sure we are covering all our bases…" JJ starts, tho finishing the sentence is proving itself to be harder than she thought it will be, "has anyone ever suspected that james was't loyal?"

…

"you must be with the FBI" Winnoa says, reaching her hand out for (y\n) to shake. She is wearing a simple yet complamating button up shirt coverd in stripes that matched the ones on her pants. (y\n) cleares their throat and shake the hand that was offered to them, "yes, hello, i am agent (y\l\n), but you can call me (y\n)". "Thank you for coming" Winnona says, "this… this is awful. I don't think something like that has ever happened in our town. "well, this is part of the reason we are here, to help the local police deal with these horrible crimes" (y\n) says, sitting down. "is there anyway i can help? i was already questioned by the officers here, but maybe you can see something they couldn't see in my answears" The woman says, despreat to be of help.

"Winnona, i am very sorry for what i am about to ask…" they start, but they find it hard to figure out a way to finish the sentence. "whatever it is, please" the woman across from them is begging, and so (y\n) clears their throat to ask, tho they end up bearly forming the sentence. "is there any chance… do you think that maybe.. well, Winnona, i am so very sorry - have you ever suspected Sean was being unfaithful?"

…

"Well, no, never. Fiona was a kind soul, she could bearly hurt a fly. i highly doubt she would ever do such thing" Daniel says, "Why would you even feel the need to ask me this question?" his tone was laced with anger, but rightfully so. Prentiss expected that reaction. "well, just making sure we are looking at all possible leads" She says, "Can you think of someone that may have suspected that Fiona wasn't a great match for you? anyone ever objected to your engagment?" she asks this, aware of the facy Daniel is getting more and more upset as more words leave her mouth.

…

"i really don't think so" Layla says, her tone calm but her eyes full of pain. "as i said, he is- was, a lovely man, we loved each other, we were soulmates" her voice breaks as the word 'soulmates' leaves her mouth, and the tears fill her eyes once again. JJ smiled at her a sad smile, "Well. is there any chance there was someone who didn't agree with you on that?" JJ askes. Layla's cries grow stronger, and JJ's need to comfort her wins her need to be profitional. she gets up to rest her hand on Layla's shoulder. The woman leans into JJ, crying, and JJ's heart breaks.

…

"i never suspected such thing" Winnona says, "but, uh, my friend did. he was staying long hours in the office, and my friend who works at a similar posetion claimed she was never asked to stay so long at the office, not at that rate at least. I asked him about that, and he said that her boss is probably just less harsh than his is, and that he only has eyes for me, and that will never change. than he got on one knee and asked if i'll allow him to spend the rest of my life with him. i belived him, and said yes. my friend wasn't very happy about that, but she ended up being supportive. she wanted me to be happy".

"okay, thank you" (y\n) says, sad smile on their face, unsure if this possible lead is a good thing or no. "agent, do you think he was cheating? was my friend right? is that what got him killed?" Winnona askes, but sadly (y\n) dosen't have an answer, so they just say "we'll let you know if we find something".

…

"Garcia is calling" Morgan calls out and Hotch, Prentiss, JJ and (y\n) follow him into the office the BAU took over for their time here. "hey there choclate thounder" Garcia's voice says from the other side of the line. "Baby girl, you are on speaker. Hotch, Prentiss, JJ and (y\l\n) are here with me. did you find any connection between the couples?" Derek says. "hey there you beautiful agents" Garcia said, "i called to let you know there is no overlap in the victimis wedding planning - they looked at different venues, checked out different caterings… even the photographeres they reached out to were different… but i mean, that has to be it, right? i mean, i looked at their socials - they all have privet accounts so i highly doubt that's how the unsub found out about the engagment" Garcia says.

"well, we suspect the unsub could be hunting cheaters, so try to find any hint of cheating in the victims life" (y\n) says. "look at their emails, try to find their profiles on, ugh, dating websites…" JJ says. "Winnona said her fiance worked late but a friend says there is no way he needed to work that many hours" (y\n) adds. "okay, i will get back to you with all the answears, no stone will be ledt unturned. Baby girl out" the beeping of the call being hung up came soon after Garcia's last words.

…

"well, all three bodies had their hearts missing - that you already know, but it seems the cause of death was strangulation, but not manual. I think its some fabric, since they all had fibers under their nails as if they were trying to rip it off them" the ME, dr. Roland, says what she gathered so far. "the mark on the guys is about 3.25 inches, which is the typical width of a tie" Reid says, and Dave looks at him, catching up to Reids idea. "he could be strangeling them with a tie, symbolising the tie they could have been wearing on their wedding day" Dave says, and the ME sqints. "The woman… her mark is… texured, in lack of a different word - could be a vail or a garter" she says, "she also seems to have been dead for at least some of the time he strangeled her". "So he was angrier with her, she was closer to his ideal victim, meaning he was probably hurt by a woman and that's what triggered him to start killing" Dave says.

"dr. Roland, by your judgment, would it take any sergical skills to cut the hearts out the way the unsub did?" Reid asks. "well, the first heart had some cuts on it, meaning the unsub probably cut it while trying to cut it out. the cuts are… well, sonky, so i doubt they were done with actual medical eqipment, it looks like the work of a good quality meat knife. the cuts pn the hearts get fewer and fewer with the other hearts, so i belive he learns from his mistakes" She says. "well, thanks doctor, you helped us a lot" Dave smiles at her, and she blushes.

…

By the time Spencer and Dave made it to the police station, the team was all set up at the office they were assigned. the crime board done, orginised by dates and couples, as well as the note "cheaters?" under the line of photos of the victims. they walk into the room, and Prentiss welcomes them in. "Reid, (y\n), you are on the geographical profile" Hotch says, "prentiss, you and morgan will go interview the first wedding venue, Rossie, you will go with JJ to the second one and i'll go with the chief officer to check out the third one" He orders, "sdresses are waiting at your phones". everyone splits up. "well, the first body was found over here" Dr. Reid starts, grabbing the pen from the desk. well, not exactly the desk, as (y\n) was holding it. "hey!" They called out, But mr. pretty boy didn't mind much.

He marks the spot, "second one here…" he mumbles. (y\n) grabs the pen from him, "and the third one here" They say as they circle the spot. Spencer lets out a half-laught, and if it wasn't for the fact he was slightly rude to them a second ago, (y\n) would have thought it was cute. well, they did, actually. "the victims live here, here, and here" (y\n) mumbles, pointing at the town's map with the pen, but not marking anything. "the victims were'nt taken from their homes tho, so that won't help finding the hunting zone" Spencer sighs, "we should look at where the victims were last seen".

"well, that would be… sean at his job, he should be taking route 45 to get home" (y\n) says, reading from the file as spencer marks it with a different pen. "Fiona was at a lunch with a friend according to Daniel, and her phone pinged at a coffee place around… here" They say, pointing at the map to let spencer know where to leave a green circle. "and James's last text was pinged about 10 minitues from the gym he frequented, right about… here" spencer said. "these are all over the town, and not that close to the dump sites, so the unsub must be mobile. in order to move the bodies he will need a big veichal" (y\n) says, furring their eyebrows at the map.

"what about the wedding venues? they could also be the place the unsub chooses his victims" Spencer says. "we just talked to Garcia, and she said-" (y\n) tries to catch up Reid on the phone call he missed, but right on que there is another incoming call from Penelope Garcia herself. "hey there, Garcia, it's (y'n) and i here" Spencer says. "oh, if it's not my favorite wonder boy and wonder mind" Garcia says. (y\n) was also a genious of sort, but they didn't think they quite compared to Reid, tho with the iq of 130 they were the closest on the team. "Garcia, do you have any updates about the wedding plans or the cheting?" (y\n) asks, and spencer shoots them a slightly confused look, as he didn't get the chance to catch up on the team's idea for a lead.

"well, you know how at first i didn't find a connection between the wedding venues? i looked deeper, so deep i got to the very core, and you know what's in the core? Lave. major, hot lava" Garcia says, "it looks like all of the wedding venues are owned by the same major, greedy company. It's called Marry-go-round, and they own most of the wedding venues in the area. each one is designd to appeal to a different audience - they have gothic ones, hystorical ones, botnical ones… they share employees, meaning one guy might be working at more than one venue…" Garcia says, "and before you ask me to, i am already running searches to see who worked at all 3 the day those couples went".

"you are so great, Garcia, i don't know where we'd be without you" (y\n) says, smiling at the phone. "well, the answear is way behind. goodby lovies, sent the rest of the team my love and warm hugs, i will let you guys know once i have answears regarding to the victims… side-quests" Garcia says, ending the call with a smooch sound of a kiss.

…

Prentiss and Morgan walk into the "garden of eden" venue, that was the one James and Layla looket at. "hello" a woman in a bright red suit welcomed them. "my name is Diane" she said, reaching out her hand to shake the one of the pair infront of her, "it is lovely to have such a beautiful couple here, we actually never had such wedding here, so that would be great to have you two as the first one. "you mean… mixed couples?" Morgan asked, confusion in his voice and slight annoyence. "well-" Diane tries to save herself, but the sentence doesn't get the chance to be fully formed.

"mam, we are not here to plan a wedding, we are here to ask about a couple who did" Prentiss cuts her off, showing her the FBI tag. "well, that's unfortunate. I am sorry, but what does that couple has to do with my wedding venue?" Diane asks. "well, they looked at this… lovely venue, and now one of them is dead and the other one got her beloved boyfriend's heart in the mail" Derek says, sparing no details from the woman who already wasn't on his good side. "well, that's unfortunate, but i still don't see what that has to do with us" Diane stands her ground.

"have you seen anyone suspicius around? someone who looked at couples, trying to study them?" Prentiss asks. "do you think this murderer found them here? well that is impossible, only couples and employees are allowed on the premiss" Diane says. "do you ever have more than one couple looking around? this guy could come here with his own fiance" Derek says, the last part of the sentence directed more to his fellow agent than to the wedding venue annoying manager. "no, and i belive this is where we end this conversation. i have a tour here from an actual couple, so, bye-bye" Diane says, walking around the agents to welcome the couple that just walked in. "hello, my name is Diane, it is lovely to have such a beautiful couple here…"

the agents exchange looks and leave the venue, tho they don't think they are done there just yet.

…

"well, the venue we checked was orginised, they had a security detail at the entrence, even after seeing our badge we were'nt let inside, the manager came out to talk to us" JJ said. "he was a lovely man, once he talked to us for a bit he gave us a tour - i noticed they were fixing a broken part of the fence, but he said that it's usually hidden with flowers, so no one knows of it. he said he'd give us the records of the couples who came there the same day as Daniel and Fiona, meaning we may be able to identify his next victim" Dave said, waving the files in his hand.

"the venue we checked said they have double bookings, sometimes more than one couple is there. sometimes only one half of a couple arrives. we should check and see - mayby there is a couple, or someone who claims to be engaged who was in all three venues the same day as the victims, he could be angry with his fiance, unable to process that, and so he kill people who remind him of her in someway" Hotch says.

"and what about you?" Hotches eyes traveled to the two defided faces of his two agents who just walked in. "well, the manager was a bitch" Prentiss sighed, "she bearly answered our questions, and her whole deminor was just… off" Derek agreed with her. Reid and (y\n) come inside the room, holding 6 cups of coffee in between them both. "oh, you are my savior" Prentiss says as she grabs the coffee (y\n) handed to her.

after the coffee ceremony is done, the wonder due explains their findings regarding the hunting zone and the comfort zone, as well as catching their teamates up to speed regarding the connection between the venues.

just as they finished, the actual savior of the team called. "hello my darlings, it is i, Penelope Garcia, coming to you with a very, very sad news flash. i found some proof of unfaithfulness from all of our victims. It appears Sean was spending way too much time in his office, off the clock. He's work sheet says he finished work by 5pm, but his phone pings at home around 9pm, and before that it pings at many different sketchy motels. not once, not twice, but on a weekly basis. James was also being a bad, very bad boy - his pictures are on many different dating websites, and you may think 'well, it could be someone who is using his photos' but no, the some of the photoes on there are very nasty and very not on any of his socials" Garcias word flow stops as she takes a breath to continue.

"And Fiona… well, she was a little tricky, but i found these very much not PG emails between her and a [email protected], she used her work email, which is very icky of her, but it sure did keep it a secret". "Garcia, how hard would it be for someone to find out about the cheatings?" Prentiss askes. "well, it took me about two hours, so i belive that someone with the avarage hacking skill could get this information in about three days" Garcia says, slight cockiness in her voice. "well, babygirl, this is very helpful information" Derek says, smiling at the phone, "thank you". "can't wait for my reward" Garcia says, and the call is finished.

"It's likely our unsub was cheated on by a woman, since it looked like he overkilled the female victim, and it is possible they were engaged when he found out, that's why he attacks couples who are planning a wedding. He feels the need to punish cheaters" Reid says, looking at his team. "well, that has to narrow down the unsub pool" Dave says. "well, about 12% of married women admit that they have cheated on their spouse, and 20% of engagments end up being broken off, and 50% of those are due to financial stress. This town has roughly 7,639 people-" Spencer starts calculating, trying to figure out exactly how big is the suspect pool. "Kid, please. let's just have Garcia look it up" Dave cuts him off. "it's about 20 potentiol unsubs" Spencer mumbled under his breath, but his teamates don't react. "maybe his mom or dad were also cheaters, that could be the stressor and his partner doing the same thing to him would make one hell of a trigger" Prentiss says.

"well, i think it's time for the profile" Hotch says.

…

JJ, Hotch, Morgan and Prentiss are standing infront of the cameras. "we belive this unsub is a white male in his 20s, he recently expirienced a heartbreak over a cheating partner, possibly a fiance" Hotch says. "He has a high level technical knowlage, as it appears he took a deep dive into the victims life, finding out intimate details about their sex lives" JJ says, trying to not say the straight up truth of the cheatings he uncovered. "tho he has no prior medical skills, he appears to be learning how to perform his ritual with more accuracy" Prentiss says, "therefor we belive he is smart and possibly works at something that requires a similar set of skills as a surgen". "this unsub is sending the victims fiances the hearts he carved out, which shows signs of pshcopathic tendecies. this guy is probably cold, manipulative, and yet has a charm to him not many people see through" Dave continues. "we belive he may have had a parent who cheated on their spouse, making the cheating he expirienced triggering" JJ says. "if you know anyone who can fit this description, we encourege you to talk to us" Hotch says, and the cameras cut.

…

"Garcia and i just talked, she says there is one employee who was in all wedding venues the same day as our victims, but she dosen't fit the profile. happily married, 2 kids, grew up in a loving family" Derek says as he joins his team in the office, highlighting the word "she". "well, maybe the unsub wasn't on the clock, they could have some employees that get paid under the table" Prentiss says. "we profiled the unsub to be white, so it is less likely he is not listed" Reid says. "well, i guess we can't be sure, since he crosses race lines. the main reason we think he's white is because this town has so few pocs, and most of them arent able to afford the type pf education this unsub has" (y\n) says, spinning her chair as she thinks. A knock on the door makes the team look over. "they just found another body" officer Williams says. "let's go" JJ says, following the officer and the rest of the team follows her.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #dave rossi #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #dr reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #jennifer jareau

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laiqualaurelote · 4 months ago

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F for the fanfic ask game 😊 You're great at getting character's voices down!

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Thank you! this is from Beard's section in the Lasso's Eleven chapter of they will see us waving from such great heists:

“Did you know that in Athens, they call the vehicles of mass transportation metaphorai?” he says to Ted on the District Line. “So we’re riding a metaphor now?” “Yeah. The train is a metaphor.” “I like that,” says Ted. “I find it moving.” They rattle on towards Kew Gardens. “It’s funny how they call it the Tube,” says Ted. He pronounces it as an exaggerated “choob”. “It’s because of the method of construction. The early lines were built using cut-and-cover, but after that they went deeper and started using tube tunnels.” “Tubes everywhere,” says Ted reflectively. “If you think about it, the human body is a tube.” “A torus. Topologically speaking.” “Pretty sure I’m a Libra.” “Torus, like a doughnut. We’re all doughnuts. Just long holes encased in flesh.” “Tubes on the Tube,” declares Ted. “Metaphorically and literally.” They get off at Richmond and walk to the green. “So what’s it to be?” Ted goes on. “Trick play?” “Kansas City Shuffle,” says Beard. “They look right, we go left.” “Old school. I like it.” Ted nods. “Think I might throw in a Lasso Special, spice things up a bit.” “You’re going to use the Lasso Special for this?” Beard eyeballs him. “You’ve been sitting on that one for years.” “I feel it’s time,” says Ted, stroking his moustache with relish, like the supervillain he totally isn’t. “Now or never, Andrew Lloyd Webber.” “Your call, chief.” They stop at the top of the ridge. “Gosh darn, but it is a pretty how town,” says Ted admiringly. “Kansas City bore me, Richmond and Kew undid me.” “Weialala, baby.” Beard peers into the distance. “They say you can see Windsor Castle from here.” “You know what Windsor Castle looks like?” Beard shrugs. “Think it’s kinda round on the top. You thought about crew?” “This is a big ‘un. We gotta have the basics - a Keanu, a Travolta, a Mick Taylor. I’m thinking a Charlie Bird, too. You want we should go for a Leo or a JLo?” “JLo. Keeps things fresh. Lasso Special needs a Tom Hardy.” “Add that to the list. Rebecca says she’s got a Denzel in mind. And we should get a Stath, to be on the safe side.” “Huh. Are we expecting trouble?” “We should,” says Ted. “Let’s hope trouble ain’t expecting us.” Beard counts on his fingers. “Plus us, that’s eleven.” Ted nudges him, jocular. “It’s like we’re a football team.”

This is probably the dialogue scene that went through the most number of rewrites in any of my fics - it is extremely difficult to nail the flavour of Ted and Beard's banter, and I went through several versions before I was satisfied. I wanted this to sound like the way Danny and Rusty communicate in Ocean's Eleven, but with Ted and Beard's particular brand of psychic entanglement.

This conversation contains three things I love: 1) Tube facts (I am very nerdy about the London Underground); 2) e e cummings and T. S. Eliot poem references (in a single line, too!); and 3) that trope in heist movies where they only refer to things by their codenames, which the audience has to work out themselves. This is the full code index (which I made up).

Keanu => The Matrix => hacker Travolta => Grease => greaseman Mick Taylor => Rolling Stones guitarist on Sticky Fingers => pickpocket Charlie Bird => saxophonist Charlie "Bird" Parker => blow => demolitions Leo => Leonardo DiCaprio in Catch Me If You Can => male grifter JLo => Jennifer Lopez in Hustlers => female grifter Tom Hardy => Eames in Inception => forger Denzel => Denzel Washington => Inside Man Stath => Jason Statham => hitter

Thank you for playing this fic ask game!

#procrasktination #ted lasso

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taissaswifelowkey · 2 months ago

Text

Bittersweet Symphony

a/n: the second chapter IS HEREEE this one's been sitting in my drafts since summer vacation. this is relatively slow, i want to try to set the pace and offer a different twist to the actual plot. proofread, not sure where we're going with the release of chapters but we're going!

also "finn" can be any gender you want ;) fionna, finn, or finnegan it's your call 🗣️‼️‼️

w/c: 2.2 k words

warnings: swearing, mentions distress. let me know if i missed anything

it starts below the cut

a/n: thank you for wistfulwatcher for making this gif, they're so adorable

Chapter II: The Reflex

Four days in your three-long week break and you’re on your twentieth episode of Dance Moms. You went out for a jog in the forest to clear your head, fed the neighbourhood stray cats, read a book you bought but never bothered opening and settled for staged reality TV. Anytime you felt like defying Chief Munoz’s orders, you take a long minute to think, rather than just march up to the man’s office in your uniform.

It’s a fate better than…nothing. You still get your checks. And maybe he is right, some time might be good.

The more you try to convince yourself of that idea, the more it seems to work.

Settling into the couch, letting your eyes drift shut you allow your body to catch up on the sleep you have been lacking, the sounds fading away at the back of your mind.

⟰⟰⟰⟰⟰⟰⟰

“Are you even sure she lives here? This place doesn’t seem like her. It’s too…homey.”

“I have to admit she was a teeny bit harder to find. But this looks like the right place. Besides, the blinds are open and we checked every other corner.”

“...A suburban home with a huge “Welcome Home” mat? I say we’re better off going back to the cabin again. Get some information out of that ranger guy.”

“That’s a great idea but I still think we can fish for information. We know this is the right neighbourhood so whoever lives here might know her, right?”

A buzzing noise keeps resonating in your head putting a brutally quick stop to your rest. Jolting up, clutching your chest and trying to calm your beating heart, you slowly inhale and exhale. It’s a doorbell. Just a doorbell.

Whoever keeps ringing is pretty damn insistent. Is it that Jessica Roberts person? How the hell does she know where you live? Clenching your jaw, You rise from your seat, not even taking the time to fix your appearance. Following you at the grocery store, a damn Trader Joe’s is one thing. But your home? This is stepping into the border of harassment.

Swinging the door almost violently, the words escape your lips.

“Ms Roberts. I couldn’t care less about your job but I have a right to privacy. Either you leave me alone or I swear I’m going to-”

“Good afternoon to you too. Long time no see.”

“Hey, it’s been a while! I brought you some cookies to catch up.”

What the…how…

Your eyes land on a woman with her hands in her pocket, her eyebrows peeking out of her shades and with a subtle smirk on her face. While the other smiles brightly.

“Huh…”

What are they doing here?

“Are you going to let us in, Ranger?”

Natalie asks in what seems to be her trying to be patient, but she lets her way in with Misty. This is all happening very fast. Wait how does she know that-

“Where did you get that from?”

You step aside and let them enter, leading them to the kitchen, thinking of what to say. What do you tell people you haven’t seen in years? Or rather avoided for years.

“Misty kept track of all of us. You can thank her for that.”

Natalie takes off her glasses, sighing as she sits down. Misty shoots her a look and she shrugs her shoulders.

“What Nat kindly means is, now that we found you, we have a problem we need to discuss.”

She hands over the plate of cookies. Swallowing hard and nodding, you thank her then look for plates.

You’re starting to regret not enjoying your given break sooner.

“What kind?”

“A reporter problem.”

Nat answers, with an edge of annoyance to her tone. Looks like you're not the only one who has been dealing with…wait. Why are they looking at you like that? They don’t think I said anything, do they?

You serve them plates and sit down opposite the two, looking between them. One looks sceptical while the other…looks afraid of being disappointed.

“A Jessica Roberts problem? That reporter? I swear I didn’t tell her anything. I even thought it was her ringing on my door, I was about to gently remind her to leave me alone.”

A small exhale leaves Misty’s lips, almost of relief while Natalie furrows her brows.

“I can ask you two the same thing. Did you?”

“God, no. She tried to give me some book deal, telling me how I would make a lot of money out of it. But I wasn’t buying anything that she tried selling me.”

“She tried to bribe an answer out of you?”

They nod, all of a sudden looking uneasy. Natalie dwindles her thumbs and Misty leans forward and drops her voice to a whisper, even though you’re the only three people in the house.

“We think someone talked. Or someone is, I don’t know, spying on us. We tried to look for the other girls but so far, you were the first one on our list. We needed to stop by.”

Her eyes search your face. Visibly stricken. You don’t know if it’s because of the shock of revealing the news. You lean back into your chair as Natalie grabs a cookie and scrambles it down.

“Of course, that was before she did something to screw up my car. Next thing you know she’ll break yours, might as well keep it hidden.”

“Natalie, aren’t you just funny today?”

“Very. Now, tell me Ranger. Any loose lips recently? You must have talked in your sleep about it to whoever was with you. Misty found someone by the name of…Finn. It couldn’t have just been a lovers’ quarrel right?”

Just how much information do these two know? Finn is not even considered as an “ex”. Merely just a failed relationship.

Misty brings her fingers together, the clogs visibly turning in her brain. Whatever words she is communicating through the daggers she shoots at Natalie must work, because she turns around to look at you.

“Look, this situation is weird. It concerns us. If we don’t put a stop to it then she will keep on fucking with our lives. Literally and metaphorically.”

You cross your arms and weigh her words. It’s not like you can exactly blame her, or even them, either for having certain doubts.

“I swear I didn’t tell her anything, and I never plan on telling her what went on in these woods. I mean, she knows what I do for a living. Probably even knows where I live. I want to find out the truth as much as you.”

Natalie gives you this look. This long, look. Trying to look for the slightest ticks or anything in your face that makes her think you’re lying. Misty doesn’t say anything, her eyes finding the wooden table interesting. So much for someone who tried to defend you just a few seconds ago.

“Fine…but if I find out there is something, then-”

“Do what you must, Natalie.”

Your voice is firmly affirmative as you hold her steely gaze. After a couple of seconds, she finally lets down, raising her hands in surrender. Misty clears her throat, lifting her voice.

“Okay, now that it’s over can we finally work again? As in, a team? You’re a Ranger, right? That will bring us a lot of help. With your sense of responsibility and leadership.”

Misty is adorable but calling you a “team” is an exaggeration. Even though the sight of Natalie’s eyes rolling at the term makes you stifle a chuckle.

“Technically I am. My boss thinks I’m going through something, I don’t know. He put me on a three-week leave.”

She smiles brightly, extending her hand at your crossed arms. You glance down at it and lightly shake hers. Natalie just clears her throat and takes another cookie before approving.

“This reunion was sweet and all but we have to go. I’ll let Misty leave our contact info. Misty, I’ll wait for you in the car.”

Nat gives a tight-lipped smile before leaving you and Misty in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry about Nat, she’s just…I mean, it’s…”

She tries to find a way to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t sound outrightly hurtful. To be fair trust issues are bound to arise so…

Shaking your head you smile warmly at her. You stand up to grab a sticky note and a pen, handing it back to Misty.

“Yeah.”

You whisper, barely even audibly, your mind still racing. She pulls back, fixing her glasses in a way only Misty Quigley ever could. After she scribbles down two sets of numbers she gives it back to you.

“Those numbers aren’t only for investigation purposes, it’s also a support group.”

“Investigation purposes” Like how she basically stalked y…wait. If she knows about you…then she must also know about the others.

“Hey…I just have a question. If you found out about me…do you…do you know about the rest, or were they good at covering up their tracks? I’m just curious. Y’know. Harmless curiosity.”

Her ears perked up and if it were anyone else but Misty, you don’t think you’d support this cheerfulness and optimism.

“Of course. Besides, pretty much all information that is out there is public knowledge so I didn’t really ��find” you. Who do you want to know about? Randy? Ooh, maybe that girl who took your jacket and never gave it back to you-”

“Ty. I mean, Taissa. I want to know about Taissa.”

That was too much of a quick interruption. Her eyebrows furrow and her lips are brought into a smile. Whatever remark she is about to make is quickly shut down, again.

“It’s just, y’know I heard she was running for Senator. That is major. Really major.”

“Well yes, that is part of it. She is also married and has a child. That is pretty much about it? I mean, it’s not like I can tell you what her favourite ice cream flavour or meal is.”

Pecan. Shrimp alfredo.

She smiles wholeheartedly and shrugs. Right. Married. You don’t exactly know what it is that you were hoping for, anyway. It’s not like you were ever really a first option either so…

The car outside honks, stopping the beginning of a spiral.

“Right. Well in any case thanks, Misty. Drive safely.”

“Don’t mention a single word about it. And do watch your back…we don’t know who or what we’re dealing with.”

A couple of hours after they left, you stared into nothingness. After twenty-five years you’d think everyone will have a smidge of normalcy in their lives. Stirring macaroni, your eyes shift from the pot to your computer. Activities to do when you’re bored and Jessica Roberts.

What still gets you is this nonchalance.

She’s obsessive. It is her job but she is strangely, weirdly, bizarrely obsessive. Whatever reason does she have to know about your past life? Everything is out there for her to know already. Everyone knows or at least has some idea of what happened.

Abandoning the stove to scroll through your computer, you look for anything that will give a clue. There is nothing much useful but her education, her accreditation…

“I’m on your case now you bottom feeding bi-”

A postcard flies right past the window, landing in the sink. What the…? You peer over it. At a glance, a simple, innocent postcard. Turning it around, all the colour leaves your body, ignoring the smell of the pot burning. Exactly what you were afraid of.

“We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with” are now famous last words.

⟰⟰⟰⟰⟰⟰

“There is no fucking way this is happening.”

You set the now-burnt macaroni aside, your brain circling back to the symbol on the back of the “I miss you!” postcard.

“What if it’s- it’s laced or something and I’ll get sick in a couple of hours and- for all we know she can be some fucking deranged mentally ill serial killer who’s wanted by the FBI and-”

“Hey, it’s okay. I promise nothing is laced, alright? Focus on the sound of my voice and slowly inhale then exhale with me. Ready?”

Misty softly speaks, guiding and helping you breathe regularly again. The ringing in your ears is slowly dissipating and your legs don’t feel like giving up on themselves anymore.

“Good, good job. Just take your time.”

“Are you alright to continue the conversation?”

Natalie exasperates. Like you're a child who woke their parents up to tell them they’ve pissed the bed again.

You take a final deep exhale, your voice slightly breaking. You grab a bottle of water from your fridge and take a few sips.

“Yeah, yeah I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, don’t apologise. Anyone would have had the same reaction as you, Ranger. Never know what could happen these days. All kinds of freaks are running around and ow- Misty I’m trying to assist, here.”

“Thanks Natalie. That…helps. A bit.”

Weirdly, surprisingly, you’re comforted by her words. You would have expected anything but that given her lack of trust at the beginning.

“So with Nat we’re thinking that it’s either Jessica’s own doing, or someone’s working with her.”

“Hmm…and if you had the same card as me then that means…”

“...There is a chance the others must have received it.”

They complete your sentence at the same time, still trying to make sense of this entire situation. Is Jessica Roberts a family member like you’ve doubted before? Or is she working with someone to try and fish information out of us to extort us or something Like Natalie said? That or she’s a con who is efficiently covering up her tracks.

Your hands fiddle with the loose strings of your flannel, the only thing that brings you back to reality and refuses your brain the idea that it is a state-like dream.

No one says anything for a couple of seconds, turning into minutes. The only sound that fills the silence is the soft hum of their car radio. Until Misty speaks up again, a strange lilt to her voice for this situation.

“I think it’s time we bring the team back together.”

#lgbtq #wlw #yellowjackets #taissa turner #taissa yellowjackets #wlw post #taissa is my wife #taissa turner yellowjackets #taissaswifelowkey

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