#navigating romance when no one has any idea what the fuck to do and can barely function as a person because they're a teenager?

[maelancoli]

Adding Tension After the Ship Happens

i feel a lot of slow burn ships lose steam after the characters finally get together, whether it's just from sleeping together or them actually engaging in a relationship, so here are some ideas for how to maintain steam.

their problems are not solved now that they've crossed the thresh hold

first things first, the plot itself i'm sure has other details than just their relationship. even the most fluffy of fluff has other things going on than kisses and giggles. don't abandon these details once the relationship truly begins. and if there was any kind of unresolved tension point or previously mentioned ex/trauma/insecurity/fear bring it back! bring things back around that might put a strain on a new, tender relationship. this can either make them have problems or be a way to develop their bonds and *show* it in action. any of these foreshadowing/resurrected points can be added in edits if you didn't start out with them or with retconning if you're writing rp/fanfic. all the writers do it. we see it in tv everyday it's ok if u gotta pull a rabbit from a hat.

their relationship will not be suddenly smooth and solid as if they have been married 20 years

okay they kissed/fucked/agreed to be together. now what? what circumstances kept them from getting there sooner? are those circumstances still present and how will they deal with it as a team? you also don't have to have characters officially together once they've done something physical. there is still discussion to be had and boundaries/expectations to establish. those conversations could be interesting to explore. and, even more-so, this is the perfect point for plot to happen and keep them from being able to have those conversations when they should. you can add angst, you can add miscommunication, you can add anything that tickles your fancy. especially a perfect time to have an ex return to cause some tension and uncertainty if they haven't made it official. they don't know what they are yet and that uncertainty is a delicious point to write it and really give the characters a hard time

utilize the main plot's tension

again, if you're writing more than just a contemporary fluffy romance, the romance should enrich the main plot. the romance as a subplot should be a component which merges with the main storyline and does not take away from it. if you don't want to milk the will-they-won't-they anymore than you already have it's time to build the relationship up in the midst of OUTSIDE conflict. let them disagree about how to resolve problems. let them butt heads. let them be scared and do and say stupid shit because they're scared. let them be worried or angry or frustrated and have to figure out how to balance their newfound vulnerability with who they are and were before that point. let them hurt each other a little so they can come back together stronger.

utilize the characters around them

if it is a plot which is mainly romance filled, then think about the tension from the lives around them. think about their loved ones and how their own issues could influence the plot points the characters have to face together. this could be a time for them to be introduced to loved ones. you could throw in a group trip with silly mishaps and shenanigans. you could even have loved ones try to break them up or doubt the love interest. navigating new relationships while also dealing with friends and family can be a source of plot and tension in and of itself. this can be a point to let love interests reassure each other and prove their salt. it can help them grow closer. it can be the heroic moment for one of them to stick up for the other or prove they're there for them no matter what.

overall if you're struggling with what to do after the slow burn feels like it's sizzling out it's time to zoom out. make sure you are not losing the whole picture of their environment or steamrolling past the real development of new relationships.

[be-missed]

Find You Again (Chap 2)

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Reuniting as stars, former high school sweethearts stage a fake relationship to boost their public image. Navigating the scripted romance, sparks fly. The big question: can this staged connection reignite their real love?

Warning: curse words, notify me if there are any. Credits to the owner for the picture that I used below the cut. There's a lot of time cut, just because.

A/N: I'm so excited to write this, enjoy. New series for y'all.

Song: South of the Border- Ed Sheeran (Feat Camilla Cabello and Cardi B)

That white dress (you can also see this in Enrique's Instagram)

Masterlist

Chap 2

______________________________________________________________

"What the fuck?" Y/N screamed inside her hotel room when she woke up "I didn't even went home with her, I... I went home with... I don't know what the fuck?" Y/N added clutching her head that's aching. Her publicist enters and said "That's what you get for trashing one of the paparazzi... But he deserve it anyway." Emilia gave the medicine to Y/N and added "Well, going home with Jenna is a much better headline than you assaulting a paps, right?" with a smirk on her face waiting for Y/N's reaction.

Y/N's eye widen with what Emilia said and replied "Hell no, the both of them aren't good for me, they need to be taken down, or like tell the media that I'm with some dude" finding her phone and trying to search a man in her contacts. With a disgusted look earned from her publicist, Emilia said "You would rather be linked with a man?"

Y/N gave Emilia a look that says "I would rather not be involved with anyone." With a smile, Emilia said "There's nothing we can do about it, even if we try to pay the media, we cannot pay the people in the internet, we're gonna be broke" and chuckled.

Y/N was lost with what Emilia said, "What do you mean by that?" Emilia replied "Well, you and Jenna are trending since yesterday up until..." and fished her phone up, opened her twitter and shows Y/N the top trending worldwide "now. Wow, the both of you are still trending."

"Fuck, this can't be, I'm gonna release an album in the next few months." Y/N said trying to pace around the room "Okay, then it's gonna be a good publicity for you" Emilia said that made Y/N stop in her tracks and looked at Emilia "No, it will not be a good publicity. I don't want my songs to be incorporated to that girl."

Emilia gave Y/N a questioning look "Who's 'that girl'?" with a teasing tone and Y/N replied "You know who Emilia..." and Emilia still continues to act clueless. "Jenna Ortega, of course" Y/N said and rolled her eyes.

"As your publicist, I don't see any problem with that. She has a good reputation, no bad issues, and her career is thriving" Emilia stated facts as Y/N tries not to listen because she knows that Emilia is right "Why are you even mad about the issue?" Emilia teased Y/N.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N walks to the bathroom and yells "YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHY EMILIA" and slams the door.

As Y/N was trying to rinse her face hoping her headache will be passed through the water that damps her face, she can't still believe that people will push the her and Jenna together.

On the other side of New York City, Jenna was staring at the wall of her hotel room while chewing her lower lip trying to think how can she get out of this mess.

"Are you okay? What's the matter?" Jenna's publicist asked her while she checks the news outlets and every social media. Jenna stays silent trying to think, until she blurted out "How about a PR Stunt?" She hates the idea of it, being in a fake relationship with someone that she really doesn't care about. "We can have a fake PR Stunt so that the rumors with that singer will stop, once and for all." Jenna suggested.

Wendy, her publicist looked at her and said "You don't need no PR Stunt with anyone, you're career is going well and you have no bad blood with anyone and we're not gonna start that now. She and her team aren't giving statements about it too, so let the rumors be rumors. Not if you want to prove them right, and that's the only thing that you will do if we release a statement and they still keep on seeing you two together." With an annoyed look, Jenna then answered "I just don't want to be linked with that woman, please." She pouted and looked at Wendy, trying to make her idea work.

"No, no stunts will be done and no statements will be released. This rumor is good for the both of you can't you see? The both of your careers are striving so well, her fans are supporting you and vice versa. The public sees you both as a good pair, so why not use Y/N as a stepping stone." Wendy said stating a good point that Jenna herself can't see a hole to poke in. Jenna hates it that Wendy is always right.

With a huff Jenna replied "Ugh, fine, but it will stay as rumors" and went to the bed and plop herself trying to gain more sleep.

---

Weeks after the said rumors have spread, both the singer and the actress went on the low since they didn't want to be seen together. Each of them kept on working privately for their own careers. Y/N doing some major to minor revisions for her album release in the next few months, while Jenna does some photoshoots and guesting in YouTube.

After the MET Gala in May, the both of them were thankful since they haven't seen each other in person. But surely, the rumors from their fans can't die as they sure did have a lot of photos and videos to talk about from the MET and those old photos of the both of them resurfacing from god knows where.

Y/N received a lot of incoming projects just like working for a song that will be played on a movie this coming December, she accepted the work, just for the fact that she will be writing a song; she just loves to write one, okay. Her agent would have explained for what movie it is, but Y/N just asked about how did the love story goes and then started to write one.

As for Jenna, September has been a chill month for her, a few fittings here and there for the Paris Fashion Week next month that she will attend and will be dresses in Dior. She spent her birthday with her family and closest friends. Trying to be more private and be less seen in public to not cause any disturbances in her life.

---

As September flew by with a bat of an eye, October has come with such a busy time for Y/N as she released her new album, every track has become a hit and has settled into the Top 10 songs of Billboard, her albums also sold millions and her songs are played in every radio station, which just means that Jenna, even if she doesn't want to, listened to songs that Y/N released.

Inside the car driving in the roads of Paris, Jenna was seated and a radio blasted a song...

She got the, mmm, brown eyes, caramel thighs

Long hair, no wedding ring, hey.

"EVEN IN PARIS?" Jenna exclaimed, she just arrived from her flight and she can't believe that Y/N is still haunting her. "What? It is a bop. Y/N, Camila, and Cardi did great with the song, you know..." Enrique teased her.

I saw you lookin' from across the way

And now I really wanna know your name

"Why would she even write a song like that?" Jenna tried to argue with Enrique, and her stylist just smiled and said "I mean, she just stated that she wants a woman with brown eyes, caramel thighs, long hair, is single, wears a white dress, and probably a Latina. You know I know someone with the same characteristics" Enrique ended with a teasing smile and a knowing look. "Fuck no" Jenna answered Enrique, trying not to barf herself out with that thought. Why would Y/N wrote a song about her.

She got the, mmm, white dress, but when she's wearin' less

Man, you know that she drives me crazy

"You did wore a white dress, you have brown eyes, hmm you had your hair long, you have beautiful thighs, you are Latina, and I'm pretty sure you're not married" Enrique pushed his luck trying to really into Jenna's nerve. "When did I wore a white dress? Huh?" Jenna tried to challenge Enrique, but as her stylist, of course he knows when did Jenna wore a white dress and answered "You remember that film interview with Melissa, that white dress from Zuhair Murad..." Jenna now remembers, and thought "Oh fucking shit, hell to the fucking no"

Enrique internally laughed at Jenna's reaction while Jenna pulled out her headphones, wore it and opened her phone, as she open her Spotify, she clicks the shuffle play to a playlist. Enrique smiled at what Jenna did, but in all honesty, even if Jenna hides it, Enrique can see that Jenna did enjoy Y/N's songs and even muttered lyrics of it, but only stopped when she noticed herself that she is singing her ex's songs.

In a hotel room in Paris Y/N exclaimed "WAIT, I'M ATTENDING DIOR? Am I not signed in another brand or something?" and Emilia just shrugged "No hun, you will go to Dior, you will meet big names there that will again boost your music and your status, so yes, Dior."

With a loud grunt Y/N started to pace around, which is a thing that she do when she tries to think of a way out for something that Emilia put her into. "Okay, please tell me that Jisoo will attend this show" Y/N says with her eyes closed and fingers crossed, Emilia just stared at her and answered her with a "Yes".

Just as Emilia thought, Y/N is a fan, and going to concert of Jisoo's group will be hard so this is a gift for Y/N and can also be a meeting place for new deals that Y/N needs to attract more people for her art and to gain more attention. But what Emilia didn't say is that Jenna will also be attending the Dior Fashion show. Even though Emilia knows about Jenna and Y/N's past, she can't let the rumor about the two die, since Y/N benefits a lot, she also knew that Jenna is benefiting by the fact that her publicist and her management is not releasing any statement, despite the allegations of Jenna dating Y/N and vice versa.

---

A large crowd has gathered, voices can be heard even from a mile away with how many people have gathered just to see the ladies and gents that Dior has invited.

Jenna with her black dress arrived, strutting down the big area that has been surrounded with people, waving and smiling to every people that calls her name. Walking inside the venue, she gets to meet a lot of people, from businessman, to artist, singers, and models.

A crowd has gathered in the middle of the room and she heard a voice coming from her publicist, "Okay, I don't know if you know her, but Jisoo is a global ambassador of Dior and she is in a group called Blackpink, go make friends." And with that, Jenna started to strut her way to a crowd of people and photographers, with her current status, of course people around her would know who she is, and without a doubt Jisoo and her are asked for a picture together.

On the other side of the venue, Y/N has been doing everything that she can just to meet Jisoo, but to no avail, she is stuck with old business man that has been eating her precious time, talking about old stuff that she really doesn't know. And in every French that will speak to her, she will just answer "oui" because who the fuck understands French? Not me, Y/N thinks.

But of course, the venue isn't as big as the USA or even Paris, so of course Y/N heard whispers that Jenna Ortega is also in the same vicinity as hers, but why would she believe something that she can't even see. Y/N thinks that if Jenna is really in the same place as hers, they would probably meet each other by now.

"You need to take your seat now, the show will start" She can hear Emilia's voice behind her and with a heavy heart, she decided to seat and hopes to meet JIsoo later.

Trying to get comfortable with her seat, a group of men started to walk her way and Y/N thinks "Who the fuck gets guarded like that on a fucking fashion show?" and when the men started to disperse, a lady wearing a high heel that is dressed in long black flowy skirt, a black see-through top, and a jacket with a long white jewelry hanging from her neck; Y/N's eyes travels upward and see's a terrified look on the other person's face.

Y/N's own face contorted with disgust, her fist clench on its own and when a curse word tries to get out of her mouth, a pinch to her side coming from Emilia broke her and said "Act nice." Wide eyed with a tight lipped smile greets the other person that is also trying to contain her emotions because...

"WHAT THE FUCK IS Y/N DOING IN HERE?"

Exactly, that was Jenna's thought when the body guards in front of her started to go to their post and give her her space and lead her to her seat. Her eyes widen, feeling that her blood suddenly is pushing upwards, feeling a little bit dizzy with how much her heart is pumping her blood from the anger that she feels from the inside. Her eyes suddenly moves to the side and looks at her publicist, jut like how her character Wednesday stare at people. Her publicist then whispered to her "Be good, now."

The both of them are now staring at each other, bewildered on how the fuck did they ended up seating next to each other on a Paris Fashion Week, knowing so damn well that there are hundreds of brand that's doing the same thing that they are doing right now.

With forced smiles and a toned down anger, Jenna seats beside Y/N, creating a big space between them that could accommodate another person if they wanted to. The two women, seating side-by-side, thinking of ways on how can they seat through the whole show without murdering each other or just to try to not cause a scene. Jenna did not brought enough patience for this show, if she only knew that Y/N will be here, then she would probably brought a lot of extra patience with her. As for the other girl, if Y/N would have known that Jenna would be here, she would've declined this offer immediately and just attend another show.

Without looking to her side Y/N whispers "what the fuck are you doing here?" Jenna trying not to look at Y/N has her ears ringing from anger with what she heard from the other woman and answered in a hushed tone "the fuck do you mean why am i here?" Y/N then turns her body towards Jenna and stated with a sassy tone "Why are you here? Are you trying to follow me?" This doesn't go unnoticed by Jenna "You're so full of yourself, I don't even know that you're in here you dumbass"

Before Y/N gets to speak, a photographer appeared and asked for a picture of them. With forced smiles, the two girls closed the gap between them and smiled brightly at the camera, acting like they weren't trying to slit each other's throat before he came in.

"Nice, another picture with you" Y/N said with a sarcastic tone, Jenna was trying to do some breathing exercise, praying that she wouldn't lose her cool because if things will just be on her way? She would've smacked Y/N right in the head with her purse. "Wow, who said I like being on one frame with you?" Jenna said with a tone full of disgust.

A cough from behind them ca be heard coming from both of their publicist, and they know so damn well how things will go if they continue to banter. So what they did was to be quiet, smile at the camera and the guests, and watch the fashion show unfold.

Half of the show have passed and Y/N wants to peel her ass from her seat, run to the nearest wall, and just smash her head. She can't stand another second of Jenna nodding at every model and hearing muttered words like how wonderful they are. Y/N moved over to Jenna and whispered "Don't act like you're interested, I know how much this things bore you." Jenna's hand travelled to Y/N's thigh and grips it, hard enough so that Y/N can feel Jenna's nails digging through the fabric of her dress "Shut up."

Y/N yelps and bites her lip to contain a surprised gasp that she just made, Y/N then lightly slaps Jenna's hand, "Don't you dare do that again, you're harassing me" Y/N said trying to threaten and Jenna gasped and pulls her hand away "I'm not harassing you!"

"Girls..." Emilia whispered from behind, with that, the two women sat quietly and tries to keep their hands from trying to pull each others hair. The scene that unfolded earlier where Y/N moved closer to Jenna wo whisper something and Jenna's hand on Y/N's thigh could tell a different story when you watch it from afar. That is why photographers tried to capture it, other guests also noticed the two being closer to each other.

While Y/N and Jenna watched the entire show quietly, both of their publicist seemed to arrived at a certain business deal that would greatly benefit the two stars that they are handling. But they know that this'll need more meetings and contract signings.

---

Dior Fashion show ended a few hours ago, Jenna was just chilling in the living room of her hotel trying to find a new movie to watch, but before she press play, her publicist messaged her that they need to have a dinner meeting to discuss future projects and this one is urgent. So what Jenna did was she got up and went to her dresser trying to find a semi-formal attire to wear and for her to somehow look decent.

In the lobby, there was Wendy, waiting for her with a bag on her hand and a cluster of paper on the other. "Sorry for the late notice, I just got this deal earlier" Wendy said trying to lead Jenna to the Hotel's Restaurant. While walking Jenna thought "Wait... why is my publicist making deals and not my manager?" And it made Jenna stop from walking and looked at Wende and asked "Does my manager know this so-called-deal?" and Wendy just answered "Of course, they're inside with the other party waiting for us" with a suspicious and eerie feeling, Jenna followed suit and walked towards the private room that Wendy entered.

A waiter opened the door on the other side and there was a big table with people who are seated and are talking, on the other side that faces her, she saw her manager, the other party which she guessed are facing their back to her. Wendy ushered Jenna to sit in the middle and while trying to look for the faces for the other party, Jenna feels like she knows the faces of these people. Starting from the right, analyzing her face, her hair, and the paper that is in front of her Jenna thought "Oh, probably she's the publicist" and when she moved from the so-called-publicist left, she sees a scowling face, eyebrows pushed together in the middle, lips are tight, and a rigid body posture, and Jenna thought "No fucking way" ready to run from where she is to the door, her arms were held down by Wendy and is trying to push her down to seat in front of none other than Y/N.

"What is this?" Jenna asked and Y/N "What do you think?" with a biting remark. The two of them holding a staring battle, trying to push each other's luck and trying to feel if the other one is gonna send them a punch or a slap. "Shut up, adults are talking" Jenna said with a smirk and Y/N answered "We are literally the same age, what are you talking about?" and before Y/N gets to add another remark Jenna cut her off and said "Oh yeah? Well the shut up, people who are mature enough gets to talk."

Y/N then stood up from her chair ready to pounce on Jenna when her manager hold her down and forced her to seat down and said "Calm down you two, we are not here to set you both to fight on a boxing ring in Vegas" and the other person in the room chuckles.

"Is this some kind of joke? What am I doing in here?" Y/N asked her manager and her publicist and Emilia answered her "Calm down first and we will explain, please girls." And Y/N tried to calm herself down staring at the wall.

Throughout the entire meeting, both of Y/N and Jenna's manager and their publicist explains how good it will be if the both of them will be in a public relationship. They explained that the media, the public, and their fans loved the two of them together, seeing how the rumor between the two of them isn't dying after months, how their status and fanbase got bigger, and how can this publicity attract more people to support the both of them.

"But I thought I'm gonna be okay without any public relationship?" Jenna said pertaining to what Wendy said and she answered "Well, it still is, but if you are in a relationship with Y/N everything will be better. It's gonna be a win-win situation for the both of us."

"I don't need this, I can do things on my own" Y/N said and her publicist explained "Yes, but it will be more better with a help you know" and that made Y/N furious "Okay, first of all I don't need her charity, I don't need anyone to boost my career. I am talented and that's what I'm gonna use." Then her manager butted in and said "Yes, we didn't mean it in that way Y/N and you know it. You're just gonna help each other out, be each other's stepping stone. When the contract finishes, there will be no bad blood and we will say that things just didn't work out because of schedule."

When Y/N's manager said that, both Y/N and Jenna looked at each other's eye, feeling like it did struck a nerve on the both of them, holding each other's stare for a second, the room went silent. Y/N then looked down at her lap after she caught Jenna stared at her, she plays with the end fabric of the table cloth. Jenna on the other and was just staring at Y/N, biting her lip, trying to say something but she can't eve formulate a word.

"Okay, I think we are done, we can continue this tomorrow, sounds like a plan?" Wendy said collecting the papers in front of her, the managers were standing up and trying to leave the room.

Y/N was still seating and looking down, Wendy and her manager knows so damn well that they need to leave Y/N alone when she went this silent. Jenna was also the same, still seating down in her seat, feeling like someone nailed her to where she is.

With a deep sigh, Y/N raised her eyes in front of her, where Jenna's eyes were awaiting. A lingering sense of familiarity can be felt in line with a feeling of deep longingness and hatred. The air was thick, both of them trying to read each other's mind. Y/N knows Jenna, she knows all of her, but not the one who is seating in front of her. On the other hand Jenna's waiting for Y/N to say something, because she knows Y/N so damn well, she knows her that well. Both of them feels like they were thrown back from where they were, contemplating and thinking on a restaurant.

Y/N and Jenna stared at each other for a second, Y/N's lips opened a few times, trying to say the words that runs through her mind, but failed after a few attempt. Jenna tries to calm her breathing because it seems like everything seems to fall on her shoulders, hitting her like a brick.

This wasn't what they imagined themselves after years of their break-up. They didn't imagine them seeing again, sitting on a restaurant, talking about their relationship. Everything that's happening brings ton of memories from the past that the both of them were trying to bury. So there they were, seated, facing each other, trying not to break down, and praying to whoever listens that this was just a joke, a prank, a dream, just not a reality that they need to face.

____________________________________________________

South of the Border Singer Y/F/N Y/L/N and Actress Jenna Ortega seen Dining together in the City of Love

Y/F/N Y/L/N and Jenna Ortega both attended the 2023 Dior Spring show together and both seated side-by-side, some photographers from the inside released pictures of them getting close to each other and seemingly enjoying each other's presence.

Just as we thought that it will end there, the two stars surprises us with them being together dining in a hotel where Jenna Ortega is currently staying. Sources from the inside told that they dine inside a private room. Both of the stars arrived and went away separately. But this doesn't stop us from getting a moment of them together.

This occurrence only ignites the rumor that Y/N's new songs from the album are all about Jenna. Both of the stars aren't releasing any statements and their agency are still silent about this issue.

Stay tuned for more of this brewing love story that us slowly unfolding in our eyes!

______________________________________________________________

A/N: HI, apologies for the long wait, I hope you like it. I'm open for your thoughts and comments. Thanks again for reading and waiting. Not proofread, so notify me if there are any mistakes.

Tag list:

@hy-uk-ai @ortegalvr @mirage018 @geed-3 @idkjustliving2 @aurora-starwars (sorry just tagged all of you)

[saigethearies]

saige’s terrortober presents…

trust me

while on an expedition into space, your budding romance with osamu came as a pleasant surprise- the murderer hiding amongst your crew, not so much.

alien!osamu miya x fem!reader

contents/warnings: murder, manipulation, and slight yandere, side character deaths, service dom!osamu, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), size kink, osamu is PACKING, praise, belly bulge, dacryphilia, use of pet names, betrayal, angst in the end, osamu still has his dyed hair but he’s in his twenties, this is basically an among us au bare with me

wc: 6.7k

18+ MINORS DNI

an: this one is posted a little late but it works out so it gets to be posted on samu’s actual bday!

“the fuck you mean you found a dead body?” terushima bites out from next to you.

your brain felt like it was lagging as panicked voices sounded off around you. there was no way one of your crewmates was dead. you’d all had multiple health screenings before getting admission into the space exploration program. no one would have gotten the green light if they were in bad health, so how could they just have died? and within the first week?

unless…

“there were multiple stab wounds,” director takeda said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible to prevent the surrounding tension from worsening. “as of right now, we can only assume it was a homicide.”

the room fell silent as everyone let the news sink in.

“ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” a voice drawls from across the circular table. “we’re stuck on this floatin’ hunk of metal and we’ve gotta damn killer on the loose?”

atsumu miya had a scowl on his face, arms crossed over his chest.

“if that’s the case then we need to start narrowing suspects down now,” oikawa followed up. “someone in this room is a murderer, unless we have a stowaway hiding somewhere.”

“security is top notch, there’s no way someone would have been able to sneak on,” kanoka rebutted.

“well then,” daishou started. “it’s time to start hearing some alibis.”

“i was doing weapons,” asahi supplied.

“i can vouch, i was in the room with him,” oikawa added, the other nodding in agreement.

one by one, all of your crewmates stated where they were, what they were doing, who they were with.

“i was in navigation with the twins trying to get the ship back on course,” suna said. “since dumb and dumber decided it would be a good idea to push a bunch of random buttons.”

“i was tryin’ t’ find the air conditionin’!”

“don’t rope me in with his bullshit,” osamu miya muttered from besides his brother.

you spared a quick glance at the grey-haired man. out of all the people on the ship, he seemed to be the one you always found your eyes wandering to.

“where were you?”

the question pulled you back into focus. you turned to see terushima staring down at you, awaiting your response.

“i was reading some samples in med bay.”

his eyes narrowed. “did anyone see you?”

you blinked. no, no one saw you, but that’s because you were the only scientist hired on with a medical background. most of your time in med bay was spent alone.

would that make you look suspicious?

you figured that honesty was the best policy, so you went ahead and told the truth.

“no, i was there alone- but no one else is ever really in there unless they need treatment or need to run an errand, if that makes any difference.”

“so what i’m hearing is that you don't have a solid alibi.”

you felt your hands start to shake. “i-i guess not…”

“let’s hear where the hell yer ass was, terushima.”

the two of you turned to see osamu’s dark grey eyes trained on the man interrogating you. the intensity in them almost sent a chill down your spine.

“ya seem desperate t’ go ahead and put blame on the lil’ lady without even giving yer own alibi yet.”

was he defending you?

terushima sent him a glare. “i was emptying the trash in storage. daishou saw me when he passed by.”

a furrow appeared on said man’s brow. “uh, hate to say it man, but i don’t remember seeing you there.”

“the hell do you mean? you literally walked right by me!”

“the only people i remember seeing before the emergency alarm sounded off was kanoka and the director in shields. i was dropping off some supplies for them.”

“you can’t be serious right now!”

“well look who doesn't have a solid alibi now,” atsumu taunted. “it seems t’ me like yer dejectin’-”

“projecting,” suna corrected.

“-projectin’ onto someone else because ya don’t wanna look guilty.”

“you’re trying to imply that i did this?” terushima shouted.

“if the shoe fits.”

“that’s enough,” director takeda declares, getting the bickering to subside before it could escalate further. “we don’t need to jump to conclusions and we don’t need to fall into hysteria, either. making a rash decision based on little evidence won’t help anything. the body was found near the reactors, so on the complete opposite side of the ship from where everyone allegedly was. Therefore, we don't really have any leads at the moment.”

“so what do we do?” asahi asked, anxiety written all over his face.

“for now, everyone just stay alert and on guard. try to stay in groups or at least pairs if you can. i don’t think the killer will lash out if more than one person is around, and if worst comes to worst, we’d at least be able to pick out who was with who. if you do notice anything suspicious about a fellow crewmate, come report to me directly. rumors will only cause trouble. understood?”

everyone gave their confirmation, you barely being able to mutter yours out.

there was really a killer amongst your ranks.

you were stuck on a ship traveling further into outer space with a murderer.

“good. meeting adjourned, everyone back to your tasks.”

you turned back towards med bay, practically moving on autopilot as your mind picked apart every piece of information you just received.

“i find it interesting that the person closest to the reactors at the time of the murder was you. that is, if your story was even true”

the voice was followed by a hand roughly grabbing onto your arm, halting your retreat. you turned to see terushima’s glare trained on you, his grip tightening. “everyone else might be letting your shitty alibi slide, but i'm not.”

“your own alibi wasn’t even solid,” you argued back, trying to wrench free from his grasp. “you don't have any right to accuse me, if anything i could be saying the same things to you right now.”

“you’re a lot more combative than you were a few minutes ago. i guess you dropped the quiet, innocent girl act now that we're not surrounded by others, right?”

you wanted to deck this guy. how dare he continue to try and accuse you of one thing after another when you haven't done anything wrong. especially after his own shaky alibi had been exposed.

“that’s not the case at all, i just don’t like to be bothered by a hypocrite!”

“i’ll show you a fucking-”

“get yer filthy hands off’a her.”

osamu was at your side before you could even register. while the expression on his face seemed blank, terushima could see the silent fire raging within his eyes, practically challenging him to try and disobey the grey-haired man’s order.

still, the shorter man made no move to release you, which prompted your unexpected savior to speak again.

“if i have t’ tell ya twice, yer not gonna like what happens next.”

with that, terushima finally released you. he scoffed before turning to storm out of the room.

you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

“ya alright, there?”

looking up you met the dark, concerned eyes of osamu. the contact had the inside of your stomach turning into an ocean, waves swirling around within you as you held his gaze.

“i’m okay, thank you,” you said, trying to ignore the feeling of your cheeks heating up. “he seemed relentless, so i really do appreciate you stepping in.”

a smile then appeared on osamu’s face, and you wanted to burn the image into your memory forever because goodness did that man look handsome.

“it’s no worries, my ma taught me better than t’ just stand by when a lady’s ‘n trouble.”

you felt the corners of your own lips curl upwards. “well then she did a really great job.”

“how ‘bout i walk ya back to med bay,” he offered. “director said we needa stick together, wouldn’t feel right if i just let ya wander off alone.”

the waves inside your stomach felt as if they were growing to tsunami-level proportions. you had clearly noticed that osamu was a handsome man the day the crew was all introduced to each other, but you reasoned that you had a job to do on this ship so you couldn’t let yourself get distracted by what was essentially a schoolgirl crush.

now, however, the person of your attraction was guiding you through the halls with a large hand placed on the small of your back.

“i feel like we’re ‘n the start of’a nightmare,” osamu said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “can’t believe shunki got offed by someone on the damn crew.”

“yeah, it’s insane,” you replied. “i still can’t really wrap my head around it.”

“ ‘m sure that terushima jackass barkin’ atcha hasn't made it any easier for ya, huh?”

you sighed. “no, but i guess he does have somewhat of a reason. my alibi can't be corroborated by anyone. besides, nerves are running rampant right now, so i can't really blame him.”

the two of you reached med bay, osamu reaching for the handle and opening the door before you could even lift a finger. he was every bit as chivalrous as he was handsome, your knees feeling slightly weaker as he ushered you inside.

“well i think his reason for comin’ atcha was bullshit. he doesn’t have a solid story, either, so his whole outburst is rubbin’ me the wrong way. be careful ‘round him, will ya?”

the thought had crossed your mind during your earlier altercation with terushima. you knew you weren’t a killer, but him? it could be entirely plausible that a murderer had just been laying his hands on you. if osamu hadn’t come to your aid…

“i’ll try and steer clear of him,” you replied. “thank you again, osamu. i appreciate it, really.”

“of course,” he replied with a smile coming back onto his face. “and you can call me ‘samu.”

returning his kind expression, you nodded your head before turning to grab the samples you were working with earlier.

“anythin’ i can help ya with while ‘m here?”

“you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, walking me back was already sweet enough of you.”

“nah, we gotta stay ‘n pairs, remember? can’t let ya just sit here by yerself with a killer on the ship.”

by the look on his face, you could tell osamu wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so you relented by pointing to the wireless connection panel on the wall across from you.

“i think that could use some maintenance.”

_____

while very tense, the next few days were quiet. no more killings, no odd behavior from anyone- besides terushima’s rotten attitude towards you, but at this point you were just getting used to it. everyone was taking it day by day, each uneventful twenty-four hours being looked at as a win. crew morale was constantly wavering, however. it was hard to feel confident in your coworkers when one of them was secretly a murderer.

your safe haven amidst all of the suspense was osamu.

he continued to spend hours at a time with you in med bay, your once silent workplace now filled with chatter and laughter. when it came time for him to leave to go attend to other tasks, you would often tag along.

“buddy system, right?” he would say.

atsumu and suna would also occasionally find themselves keeping the two of you company in med bay. watching the three of them banter was probably the best entertainment you were going to get on the spacecraft. with the way the dark-haired man interacted with the twins you would think that they’ve all known each other for a very long time, so you were surprised to learn that they’d only just met at the start of the expedition.

“it literally reminds me of mustard,” suna remarked, earning a burst of laughter from osamu.

“shut yer trap, sunarin!”

“did you just not think to use toner?”

“there is nothin’ wrong with my hair!” atsumu defended.

the bickering had been going on for the past five minutes, suna always finding a way to goad the blonde into being his personal entertainment. he almost had a talent for being able to get under either of the twin’s skin, antagonizing them almost as much as they antagonize each other.

“if yer worried ‘bout what's wrong with ya then yer hair is the least of yer worries,” osamu piped up, earning a small giggle from you. you were too engrossed in recording your sample data to notice the content smile come onto the grey-haired man’s face at hearing your laugh.

he came up behind you, leaning down so that his head was hovering above your shoulder. “what ya got goin’ on here?”

you kept your face turned down towards your desk, not wanting him to catch onto the way your cheeks were heating up at his close proximity. “just going over the results from asahi’s blood test.”

it was no doubt to you that after spending so much time together, there was…something brewing between you and osamu. at first you figured it was just physical attraction, but the more you were around him, the more you began to realize that wasn’t the case.

you felt a comfort with the man you hadn’t felt with anyone else before- not any of your friends, not any of your exes, not even your family. there was no denying that there was a genuine connection there, and whether you were falling for him so quickly because of the circumstances or because you were truly that into him, you didn’t know.

and it didn’t really matter to you, either. every day on this spaceship could end up being your last, so you chose not to waste your time overthinking.

“need any help?”

“no, but thank you, ‘samu. you're always so considerate.”

before he could reply, kissy noises were sounding off from the other two occupants in the room. the glare osamu sent atsumu and suna would probably have most peoples’ stomachs dropping, but the two of them seemed unfazed.

it was then that a red flash illuminated the room, a harsh buzz ripping through the air.

the emergency alarm.

you dropped your pen.

“dammit!” atsumu yelled. “not another murder!”

a hand was placed on the small of your back, guiding you to stand on unsteady legs. “don’t jump t’ conclusions, we don’t know fer sure.”

“well what else would it be?” suna asked.

you began to move towards the door, osamu’s palm not leaving your body.

“i guess we should go find out,” you muttered.

the walk was silent, the once tense atmosphere of the ship now suffocating as days after days worth of anxiety had come to a crescendo. the four of you waited as the cafeteria doors slid open, revealing the rest of your crewmates gathered around the meeting table.

well, all of them except one.

not again…

once you had all gathered around, director takeda spoke the words you’d been dreading to hear since the adjournment of the last meeting.

“another body has been found.”

silence.

“oikawa and asahi found daishou in the electrical room. he wasn’t moving and they couldn’t find a pulse.”

“that’s right around the corner from where the last body was found,” kanoka observed.

“on the same side as med bay,” terushima muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

you frowned. “can you at least wait until we get all the details before you try and start accusing me?”

“why? we’re already two men down, we can’t let this shit just slide again.”

“we won’t,” takeda firmly interjected. “there were several small bruises on daishou’s neck, so it seems that his cause of death was asphyxiation.”

“so whoever did this was able to choke a grown a man to death with their bare hands,” oikawa observed.

“wouldn’t that mean we have the culprit’s fingerprints?” you asked.

“unfortunately the perpetrator was wearing gloves.”

“damn,’ asahi sighed.

“well if they killed the poor guy with their bare hands then i really don’t think it could be the lil’ lady,” atsumu commented.

“yeah, ya really think these tiny ass fingers could choke a man?” osamu added, lifting your hand up to prove his point. your stomach fluttered when you saw how huge his looked compared to yours.

“here the two of you go fucking defending her again,” terushima barked. “she didn’t even have an alibi last time!”

“neither did you,” suna said.

“yeah, and this time all three of us were with her,” osamu motioned between him, his brother, and their friend. “so she has the damn alibi yer so bent over.”

“okay, so we know oikawa and asahi were together again, then the four of them were with each other,” kanoka listed. “i was checking oxygen levels with the director.”

all eyes turned to the remaining unnamed person.

“terushima, where were you?”

the man blinked. “i was doing weapons.”

“did anyone see you?”

“i-uh, well no, everyone was off doing other things.”

director takeda frowned. “so you have no one to confirm your whereabouts?”

“second time this happened,” oikawa commented.

the pierced man sent the brunette a glare.

“since he mentioned it already, wasn’t daishou the one who denied being able to verify terushima’s story last time? and now he’s dead, too.”

everyone went quiet at suna’s observation, terushima’s eyes widening.

“are you seriously implying that i fucking did this?”

“the evidence isn’t really pointing towards anyone else right now,” kanoka said slowly.

“what the fuck.”

“everyone else has alibis,” oikawa said, prepared to lay the facts on the table.”you’re the only one who’s been unaccounted for both times, and you have a possible motive for the most recent killing. no one else has the cards stacked against them like this.”

terushima looked around the table, everyone regarding him with a careful, withdrawn look.

“guys, come on!”

director takeda took a slow breath. “i’m sorry, terushima. but we’ve already lost two lives, and right now you’re the only suspect. we have to do what’s best for the crew.”

“fuck you,” he bit out, practically snarling. “fuck all of you! what are you gonna do now, shoot me?”

“no,” his superior said slowly.

“the ship has come equipped with a different way to handle violent members.”

_____

never in a million years would you have thought that what director takeda meant is that terushima would get ejected. thrown out into deep space to choke and freeze.

it felt so cruel and unusual. yet, your boss insisted that this was the best way to go about it. keeps the threat away without needing anyone to bloody their own hands.

you tried to take his word for it, but you still couldn’t help but feel that there had to have been a better method.

thankfully, the relief of the murder mystery being solved was enough to keep you from dwelling on it for too long. the atmosphere on the ship was light again, everyone more lively and talkative. there was still an underlying somberness held for those departed, but no more going through the day with bated breath.

well, almost.

you still couldn’t fight the feeling that something was…off.

as if your ship’s little mystery had been solved almost too easily. too conveniently.

“what’s wrong?”

osamu’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, standing at the entryway to your sleeping quarters.

“oh! hey,” you said, getting up from your desk. you had to crane your neck so much to look up at him. you tried to ignore how that fact made your heart skip.

as if he could read your thoughts, the grey-haired man brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “ya didn’t answer me.”

you gave him a small smile. “i’m okay, ‘samu, just tired.”

he frowned. “i don’t believe ya.”

a sigh escaped your lips. “i guess i’m just a little overwhelmed. i’m glad we found terushima out and all, but this whole ordeal has just felt like…a lot. and i think i've been struggling to calm down again, after things were so tense for a while.”

“i don’t like seein’ ya this worried, pretty girl like ya shouldn’t be frettin’ over a thing.”

the comment didn’t catch you completely off guard. osamu had started to become a little more flirtatious, but you always figured it wasn’t that serious. probably just a way for him to be affectionate.

as his dark eyes bore into you right now, however, you started to think that might not be the case.

“i’m okay, really.”

the hand that had brushed your hair away hadn’t left your face, thumb brushing against your cheek.

“i can see yer face lookin’ all gloomy,’ he said, moving closer to you. “c’mon, darlin’, talk to me.”

you took a deep, steadying breath. “i just want a break from all the stress.”

his hands were then roaming your back, pulling you into his chest. his lips found themselves at the shell of your ear.

“then let me take care of ya, sweetheart.”

the sexual tension building up over the past week came to boiling point when osamu’s lips slotted against yours, desire spilling over the sides and shrouding each of you in a cloud of desire. he started to press more firmly, tongue sliding in between the seam of your mouth.

he broke away from you. “ ‘s this alright?”

you nodded, eyes wide, before osamu’s lips chased after yours again, hand coming to the zipper of your pink bodysuit. he dragged it down slowly, revealing more of your skin inch by inch.

stepping out of the material, you stood before him in your matching set.

“so damn beautiful.”

you placed your hands on the back of his neck, eyes staring up at him doefully. “wanna see you too, ‘samu.”

“whatever ya want, darlin’.”

he peeled off his own bodysuit next, grey in color, and was left in just his briefs. gently leading you back towards your bed, he laid you down slowly.

kissing you once more, osamu started to move down your body, leaving little pecks against your heated skin in his wake.

“what are you doing?”

“i told ya i was gonna take care of ya, sweetheart.”

he pressed a kiss below your belly button, fingers gripping the hem of your panties. he glanced towards your face, chest tightening at the sight of your lust-blown expression, waiting for your okay. you nodded, and thus osamu peeled the lace off.

grabbing the underside of each of your thighs, he spread them open. kissing the inner part of each of them, his lips then finally descended onto your glistening cunt.

“ ‘samu,” you squeaked out.

he smirked, tongue grazing up and down your sensitive nub. the sensation had you mewling, fingers tangling into his dyed locks. your sounds made osamu smirk against you, adding two fingers into your cunt in hopes he’d hear even more.

the muscle started to move against your clit faster, mouthing against it like he was starved. another finger was then pressed into your pussy. you weren’t used to being stretched that much.

“too much,” you whined out. “ ‘s too much.”

“ya need t’ take it, sweet thing. if yer gonna take my dick later, ya need this.”

you felt your breath catch, the thought of being filled by him leading the heat in your stomach to start building.

finally hitting his fingers against that spongy spot deep within your walls, a cry ripped from you as he started to put all of his focus there. your legs were starting to shake, so osamu decided now was the time to switch up the motion of his tongue, drawing circles on your bundle of nerves.

you spasmed as your orgasm tore through you, whimpers leaving your lips as pleasure overtook every nerve within you.

osamu removed his mouth and fingers from you, inching back up your body before hovering over you.

“did so good, pretty girl, so good.”

you felt his thick fingers creep behind your back, undoing your bra. his eyes drank in the sight of your tits as he pulled the garment off of you.

kisses and bites were littered along your chest, small praises whispered between each. his lips moved back up your neck, leaving a final peck on the tip of your nose before speaking.

“ya think yer ready?”

you knew what he was talking about, nodding your head vigorously, excited to be able to feel all of him.

however, all of that excitement left your body when he finally removed his boxers.

oh…

you should have known. osamu’s whole frame was big and broad. why would his cock be any different?

god, would that even fit? none of your past boyfriends even came close to his size.

he must’ve seen your face grow pale. “what’s the matter, darlin’?”

you gulped.

“...that’s not gonna fit, ‘samu.”

“it will,” he replied, not even seeming fazed by your concern. “trust me.”

“but-”

“ya trust me, right?”

his gaze was zeroed in on yours, and you felt yourself become transfixed by just how endless it seemed, as if the space surrounding your little floating ship existed in osamu’s eyes.

“yeah, i trust you.”

another soft kiss met your lips. “good.”

his thumb was at your clit again, an attempt to distract you from the head of his cock pressing against your opening. he began to push in, a small whimper leaving your lips as you could already feel the burning stretch.

“relax, doll, ya gotta relax.”

more kisses were then peppered against your lips, silent reassurances as osamu entered into you further, each new inch making your brain feel as if it was going to explode.

“little cunt ain’t used t’ takin’ somethin’ this big, huh?”

you shook your head, confirming his suspicion as tears started to leak from your eyes.

“well, first time fer everythin’, sweetheart.”

you had no idea how he got the whole thing to fit inside of you. your pussy felt as if it was being torn apart at the seams in the best way possible, jaw going slack as he bottomed out.

“oh.”

osamu hummed. “tightest cunt i’ve ever been ‘n. yer just a dream, aintcha?”

you wanted to reply to his praise, but all that could leave you was a scream as he started to pull out and push back in. starting a steady pace, the man pulled you into a hungry kiss.

never before had you ever been so filled, moaning aimlessly into his mouth as the only thought your brain could come up with was so full, so full, so full.

he parted from your lips.

“ya feel it, darlin’?”

you didn’t have a clue what he was talking about until he thrusted back in, palm coming down against a protrusion in your tummy. the realization had more drops falling down your cheeks, babbles bubbling up your throat. he was going to rip you apart, and you were more than willing to let him.

“ ‘m gettin’ close,” he warned, forehead resting against yours. his hands then grabbed each side of your hips, holding you in place as he picked up the pace. “need ya t’ cum too, doll. ladies first.”

your cunt finally couldn’t take anymore battering, muscles spasming as you came hard on osamu’s cock. you saw him grin as your body shook, finally allowing himself to release with a low groan.

he made sure to pull out of your overstuffed pussy before you could get too stimulated, situating himself at your side so he could pull you into his chest. you rested your cheek against his pec.

stillness overtook the room as you tried to compose yourself, body still twitching with aftershocks.

osamu chuckled, kissing the crown of your head.

“i told ya i’d make it work. see, ya can trust me.”

_____

the next twenty four hours were absolute bliss. you and osamu were practically connected at the hip, all ooey gooey and lovey dovey with each other. atsumu and suna made gagging sounds every time they saw the two of you, but neither of you cared. nothing was going to ruin the oasis you’d built with one other.

the emergency alarm figured it was up for the challenge.

your eyebrows knitted together, pulling away from your lover’s side as you heard the sound pierce the content silence you’d been sitting in.

the uneasy feeling from before, the feeling that something still just wasn’t right came back to you.

“it might just be some mechanical issues,” osamu reassured, clearly trying to calm you down. you met his gaze, slightly taken aback by the expression in them. it was hard to read, but you just chalked it up to him being antsy, too.

“hopefully.”

the broken, bloodied glasses of director takeda proved the two of you wrong.

oikawa held them in the palm of his hand, a grim look on his face.

“he was in navigation,” he started. “i could barely even recognize him, that’s how bad the damage was.”

you couldn’t stop your lip from wobbling. your nightmare was still ongoing, and now the one person who kept you all sane had been beaten into his grave.

what came next broke you even more, though.

“kanoka is dead, too.”

two murders.

two murders on the same damn day.

you bit your lip, keeping your cries as silent as you could as the news settled.

suna was the first to speak. “do we need to move their bodies out of there, and give them a nicer…resting place, like the others?”

“that’s the thing,” oikawa’s tone now had an edge to it. “kanoka’s body wasn’t with the director’s, it was in lower engine.”

“so what does that mean?” you said, frustration starting to prick at you. “the killer moved her body? or had enough time to get from one crime scene to the other?”

“no,” asahi said. “oikawa was across the hall cleaning the air filters when he heard crashing in navigation. he remembered the time was around 7:30 pm. i was checking the reactor when i heard kanoka scream, and the clock on it read 7:27 pm.”

“ya mean t’ tell me they were killed at the same time ‘n opposite sides of the ship? how the hell is that possible?”

“is the answer not obvious?” oikawa bit out at atsumu. “there’s two fucking killers, and it has to be one of you four!”

“one of us?” you said in disbelief.

“yes!”

“wait a damn minute,” osamu started. “ya mean t’ tell us that if there’s two killers, it has t’ be two of us? not the two of ya, who’ve been stickin’ together since the beginnin’?”

“what ‘samu said! y’all have always been each other’s alibis, ya could have been bullshittin’ us the whole time!”

atsumu had a point. oikawa and asahi always being each other’s alibis would have been one thing when there was a singular killer, but now that there’s two? they could have been covering for each other the whole time. but still…

“if we were the killers why would we give away that there’s two of us? that makes no sense, we’d have nothing to gain from that.”

oikawa voiced the exact thought you had been thinking. they would have the element of surprise keeping their partnership under wraps, it doesn’t make sense why they would expose there are two murderers when it would be easier to let the impression there’s a singular one linger.

yet, you had gotten to know the other three people at the table. there was no way osamu, atsumu, or suna could be a killer. there was just no way.

“you could be playing mind games with us, who knows,” suna assessed. “there’s no telling what fucked shit you’re willing to do if you’re out here cutting people up.”

“no one is trying to play tricks!” asahi yelled. “the innocent people on this ship are in serious danger, we need to figure this out now!”

“the four of us see one another on a regular basis,” osamu said. “the two of ya are the outliers here.”

“we each have three other people that can vouch for us! the two of ya only have each other! yer outnumbered here!”

you were so overwhelmed. so much muddled information was being thrown around, no solid theories being able to stem from such minimal evidence. you weren’t going to be able to use your brain on this one, you were going to have to trust your gut.

“we’re supposed to believe the pair of two people aren’t the killers and instead the duo is hiding in the tight knit group of four? that shit doesn’t add up in the slightest, the two of you are talking out of your asses.”

oikawa and asahi turned to you.

“you’re smart, please tell us you believe us.”

you bit your lip.

“i just…can’t wrap my head around the idea that any of them could be killers.”

“don’t let being buddy-buddy with the three of them cloud your judgment. like i said earlier, why would we expose there are actually two killers if we were the two killers?”

a theory came to your mind, and you weren’t sure if you thought it up because it was actually plausible, or because you just wanted to prove your lover and friends were innocent. regardless, you shared it.

“the three of them are bigger than the prior victims, so they would put up a tough fight. two against four would be hard to pull off with them, so you could be exposing the murderer duo so that we get rid of two of ourselves and then make it a two against two.”

oikawa and asahi both blanched at your statement.

“she’s a genius!” atsumu exclaimed. “y’all really thought ya could put one by her, huh?”

“she’s wrong! we would nev-”

“i don’t know about you guys,” suna interrupted. “but i’ve heard all that i need to hear. let’s get them the fuck off this ship.”

the screaming and shouting that ensued as he and the twins pushed the two accused men out of the room and down the halls had you covering your ears, eyes squeezed shut as more tears dropped down your face.

you tried to tell yourself that you were okay. the murderers had been caught for real now, you were going to be fine. you were safe.

the ship went quiet, yells no longer being heard. that was all you needed to know that oikawa and asahi had been ejected.

footsteps pulled you out of your thoughts, suna regarding you with a nod as he re-entered the room.

“you alright?”

breathe in, breathe out. “i should be.”

“good. i'm gonna go send a message to headquarters. someone needs to tell them what the hell has been happening.”

you bid him goodbye as he left. standing up, you decided that being wrapped up in osamu’s arms felt like a good idea after the intense moment earlier.

they weren’t in med bay, so you did a little searching before hearing their voices from inside the admin room. you were about to enter the room before a sentence spoken by osamu stopped you in your tracks.

“i told ya t’ fuckin’ wait a while-”

wait for what?

“ ‘m sorry, i just wanted to get it over with! i told ya i didn’t want t’ be the one t’ kill the director.”

not even the limitless space outside could create the coldness you felt seep through every pore in your skin.

please be dreaming.

“ya still nearly got us exposed.”

“who cares? we’ve picked enough people off anyways. ship is ours.”

your pulse currently rivaled that of a racehorse, your brain not being able to deny what it just heard.

the twins were the killers.

osamu was a murderer.

movement to your left caught your eye, the brothers exiting the room only to stop in surprise when they saw you.

you tried to paint a look of nonchalance on your face, but it was too late. the panic was written all over you. there was nowhere to hide.

two very different emotions came onto their faces. atsumu practically looked predatory, whereas ‘samu almost looked as panicked as you.

“darlin’, listen to me-”

“cut her the bullshit, ‘samu, ya already dickmatized her enough.”

you found yourself backpedaling, fingers trembling as you attempted to put as much distance between you and them as possible.

“c’mon, angel, why ya look so scared?” atsumu taunted. you watched in horror as his brown eyes shifted to an inky black, the blonde about to lunge at you before his brother grabbed him by the collar of his maroon suit and yanked him back.

“not her,” osamu bit out, trapping his brother in a headlock. “i told ya anyone but her.”

“yer no fun, ‘samu!”

you didn’t wait around to watch them squabble, turning and running towards communications as fast as you could. you had to get to suna. he needed to know, and you weren’t going to be able to stand the slightest chance against the miyas without him.

choked sobs left you as you sped through the halls, sorrow and guilt eating you alive. sorrow because the man you had started to fall in love with, the man you had given your body to, the man you felt safe with ended up being a murderer. you felt beyond just betrayed.

then, your guilt stemmed from the fact that so many of your crewmates lay dead now, and several times you had let their killers roam free. not only that, but you’d also stood by as numerous innocent people were sent to their death outside in the vacuum of space.

you knew something was still off. you knew.

but your gut instinct had been fogged by your stupid, mushy emotions.

this was all fucked.

this was all so fucked.

“SUNA!” you screamed, sprinting into comms with red and bleary eyes.

“what is it- whoa, what’s going on?” he asked, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“we were wrong,” you said, throat tightening. “it’s the twins, they’re the killers! they’ve been playing us the whole time.”

“damn, that’s tough.”

his unserious response confused you. maybe he was in shock?

“also, correction,” the dark-haired man began. “the miyas haven’t been playing us the whole time…”

your heart nearly stopped when you saw suna’s greyish-green eyes turn the same black shade that atsumu’s had.

“...we’ve all been playing you the whole time.”

you couldn’t move, not registering suna’s grip on your shoulders tightening until you were being ripped straight out of it.

“don’t fuckin’ touch her.”

you felt yourself become engulfed in osamu’s arms, back pressed to his chest as he kept the two of you facing the other two…imposters in the room.

“dude, seriously? she’s the last one standing, we could complete the set.”

“sunarin’s right! c’mon, ‘samu!”

you felt his hold tighten around you, the same hands that slaughtered your crewmates now protectively embracing you. that fact made your head hurt.

“i told the two of ya, ‘m keepin’ her. lay a damn finger on her and ‘m rippin’ it clean off ya.”

he was met with begrudged silence from the two other men before suna let out an exasperated sigh. “fine, i guess she can live. she did really help us out by vouching for us back there, fucking oikawa almost had us figured out.”

“a pretty face t’ look at on the ride home won’t hurt.”

“watch it,” osamu warned his brother.

you didn’t know what they were talking about. you didn’t know what home was for them. all you knew was that you were gonna get dragged along, whether you liked it or not, by a man who built a bond with you through sugar-coated lies.

osamu leaned down, kissing the side of your cheek before whispering in your ear. “all my feelins’ are genuine, darlin’, that i can assure ya.”

you felt his fingers intertwine with your still shaking ones.

“ ‘m gonna take good care of ya, i promise.”

_____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

[deputyrook]

Impressions- 6/?

PART 1. PART 2. PART 3. PART 4. PART 5.

You're a psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(Enter: FBI)

Mark Hoffman x psychic!Reader (trouble in paradise?), with a teensy tinge of Strahm x reader. Sue me.

Word count: 5002

WARNINGS: Corruption, abusive dynamics, general Saw-levels of horror & violence. Mentions of child abuse. Not much romance in this chapter, sorry! Reader is still drinking the Jigsaw Kool-Aid.

---

How many derelict warehouses can one single man own?

The meat processing plant that you're making your way through isn't exactly easy to navigate. Much to your chagrin, Mark has left you to make your way through it yourself, apparently having "work" to do. You're not sure whether he means detective work or Jigsaw work, but you don't ask for details.

The place smells like metal and blood, two scents which are becoming more and more familiar to you with each passing day. You tap your cane along as you go, the vibrations travelling up your arm. It's taking time, but you're slowly getting used to the tool.

The responding echoes of the different sounds reveal to you the type of surface you're stepping on- concrete floors, metal grating, scattered pieces of glass. This abandoned plant is cool and quiet, your footsteps by-far the loudest sound you can hear.

The cane also keeps you from running into walls. Still, it's slow going. Not having any idea where John Kramer is doesn't help. If the echoes are anything to go by, this place is huge.

Strangely, you suddenly wish that Kerry could help you out with this sort of thing- not that this was the universe she belonged in, or the side she fought on, but you could almost hear the dry, sardonic comment she would make about the state of this place.

After fifteen minutes of wandering in mounting annoyance, you think to yourself- could this be another test? Marco-polo? With John, everything had the potential to be one.

You do have another tool that you can use to get information about your surroundings. With a sigh, you flex your fingers on the cane and reach out with your awareness instead, scanning.

There. High above you, forward and slightly to the right. No one else flutters against your awareness, confirming for you that it's just you and Kramer, alone in the plant.

Now where the fuck are the stairs...?

Slowly making your way around the warehouse, you go from room to room, feeling your way around. Every so often, you'll hit the edges of some strange, metal contraption that's impossible for you to get a clear mental picture of. You just feel jutting edges, sharp points, and thick bolts, and back away.

Eventually, you find a railing, which lets you know you've hit the bottom of a set of stairs. Climbing very carefully, you keep your senses trained on John Kramer's signature like a hunting dog on a scent.

It leads you to a closed metal door. You rap on it with your knuckles, waiting. When you don't receive an answer, you shove it open anyway.

"I know you're in here," You say as you enter, "You couldn't have met me on the ground level?"

You freeze in place, though, when you hear a shuddering breath and the hiss of an oxygen tank.

The cancer has spread like a rot, making even simple tasks difficult for him. It wrings the time from him like blood from a soaked cloth. He has a hard time even holding a pencil, anymore. It used to be his sword.

He would have met you on the ground level if he could. But he can't.

"I had faith you'd find your way," John says, after taking a deep breath.

"And so I did. You can't say I'm not resourceful," You lean your cane against the wall and walk over slowly, feeling your way over to the area where John is seated. You hit the back of an armchair, and ghosting your fingers over it, manoeuvre yourself to sit down across from him.

"And gifted," John adds. He seems to have caught his breath now, as his voice, though shaky, grows stronger, "You've experienced firsthand the kind of growth that being tested allows. What do you think of it, now?"

He's already gearing up to his thesis point, the reason why he asked that you come here today. He doesn't have the time to waste on small talk. You entertain his question.

"There's no doubt it's changed my life," you say magnanimously, "Being in a traumatic, life or death situation has a way of isolating what's important to you. Of cutting the fat from the bone."

Back when you could see, you never would have thought that one of the hardest things about losing your sight would be the social aspect of it. Not being able to gauge how people are reacting to your words- without delving into the nebulous depths of their souls, anyway- was socially stifling.

Particularly when the reaction you're trying to gauge is that of a hair-trigger serial killer. Ah, if Kerry could see you now- trading philosophical quips with Jigsaw himself.

"Detective Hoffman doesn't see the purpose of all of this, not the way he should. He's sharp, but shortsighted," John says, sounding almost wistful about it. "You've taken a liking to him, and he, you. That much is obvious. Overall, I've come to believe it's for the best. He'll need you, if he wants to continue my work... uninterrupted."

You can feel John's concern. The way he dwells on the future, knowing he won't be here to see it. Will the embers of his creation smoulder and burn out into ash after he's gone? Will it have all been for nothing?

"Amanda... she understands the lessons she's supposed to teach, but she's too emotional- unstable, at times. She will need to be tested again. Should she pass, she'll need an anchor. Someone to keep her... grounded."

Yeah, okay. That seems like a stretch. Amanda hadn't seemed to like you all that much the one time that you met her, but you don't bring that up. Instead, you ask, "So what, you want me to keep the peace between them? Make sure they play nice? Bit hard for me to keep my eyes on them now, don't you think?"

There's a pause, and you hear John move in his seat, before he takes a deep, rattling breath with the oxygen mask. Then, he continues.

"The ability to accurately predict human behaviour is my greatest asset in my work. It is an ability that, of my apprentices, you singularly possess. The others may be able to create the instruments, but only you can design the tests. Only you can choose who needs to be tested, and predict the outcomes, in the same way that I can."

You hum to yourself, mentally noting that he just referred to you as one of his apprentices. He has a point, though. Similar to the one that Mark had been impressing on you. There's a feeling of doom that lingers on the periphery of John's empire. Without you there to notice it, to be the stalwart defence and augur of his work, it would swallow everything he held dearly whole.

Gripping the arm of your chair, the words come before you know what you're saying.

"It's kind of a funny coincidence. My mom tried to drown me as a kid, you know," You're not sure why you tell John this. Surely it's a mistake to be so open with him. "She said the world was too sick. That it was easier to die."

"I know. It was in the paper. They printed your name, and everything," John replies, and it's a bit of a slap in the face. You wonder if he learned about it before or after he strung you up in the acid trap. You wonder if Mark knows about it, too. He's a detective, so it isn't too much of a leap to think he'd searched for information on you. It feels like a betrayal, just a little. "What did that teach you?"

You purse your lips, and choose not to answer his question directly. It seems the two of you keep doing that- replying to questions that the other hadn't asked. Maybe you're more like him than you thought.

"Mark thinks that your actions are justified, and that you're doing the world a service. I'm not sure how Amanda justifies it- maybe she just wants to be close to you, I don't know." You pause, considering.

"To be honest, I think what you do is monstrous," You confess, "It's brutal. Absolutely inhumane," You can't see John's reaction, and you get absolutely no read on him. He's silent, before you continue.

"But. I think this world needs monsters, sometimes. And that I'm one of them. That's what my mom taught me. That's what you and Mark taught me, too." You smile to yourself. "Probably not the answer you were looking for, right?"

Would Kerry think you were a monster for this? Maybe not initially, but after hearing what you'd been up to the last few months, you had to think that she probably would agree with you. That she'd be disgusted-

You freeze. Why do I keep thinking of Kerry like this? Out of the blue?

"Kerry. What're you doing with Kerry?" You ask John quietly. He takes another slow, shallow breath, before he responds.

"I was wondering if you would notice," He murmurs in reply, and you think you detect a note of amusement in his tone. "Like you, she is being tested. Right now."

"She has the will to live. Stronger than anyone I've met," You say steadfast. But there's a creeping feeling, hiding somewhere behind your lungs, that says wrong, wrong, something is wrong.

"We'll see, won't we? Like so many of her colleagues, she neglects life to focus on death. You know better than anyone." Despite how shaky he sounds, John somehow manages to sound smug.

Suddenly, it all seems like bullshit to you. Or at the very least, a resource issue.

"There are a lot of people out there who overwork themselves," You snipe, "But it's the lead detective on the Jigsaw case you happen to grab. Funny. You know, there are other ways to get good people off of your case."

"You're angry with me," John remarks, "Our work needs to continue. If she survives..."

Something occurs to you, then. John keeps talking, but his words are drown out by a whooshing in your ears- the thundering sound of blood coursing. You can't hear what he's saying, but one thought dominates your mind.

You could kill him. Right now.

You wonder how he'd do in one of his own games. One he couldn't anticipate or control. To be thrust into a situation where fear overtakes him, where his brain needs to desperately try to find a way out of the situation. If you had the time, you'd be interested to see how his philosophy fared under a bit of pressure.

But you don't have that kind of time. Instead, you could lean across the gap between you, wrap your hands around his throat, and squeeze the rest of the life out of him. You were blind, yes, but he was already dying, halfway to the grave. You would win a physical struggle.

Even if you weren't able to watch him die, you'd know- he would die afraid, angry that this wasn't like he planned. Terrified that it was all for nothing.

His reign needs to end. More... capable hands need to take over.

The only thing that stops you is a consideration of the consequences. If you were able to confirm that you could fully trust Mark... maybe you'd be able to make it out alive. But Amanda was out there, and she would want your blood for it. The accomplice, Dr. Gordon, was a wildcard. You had no idea how he'd react.

Patience. Be patient.

Your fingers twitch on the armrest. Abruptly, you stand.

"Goodbye, John. I don't think I'll see you again," You tell him, voice cold.

"You will. In one way, or another," He answers cryptically. Unlike your own, his voice almost seems to have a warmth to it now, "And you'll understand me, in time," He pauses, before he finally claims the last word- the last thing you ever hear him say.

"Goodbye, Oracle. I'm glad we met."

--

Kerry is dead.

Kerry is dead, and you don't know how, or why. And nothing makes sense.

You need answers. You need to speak to Mark- you'll find the answers in his soul and yank them out, if you have to.

Kerry didn't need to die like that. She shouldn't have died like that. You should have seen it coming, you should have warned her, you should have-

The door to the interview room opens. A man strides in, a presence you've felt before, though distantly. A woman trails into the room behind him, quiet as though deliberately trying not to make a sound. You sit in an uncomfortable plastic chair, your hands on the table in front of you.

"Comfortable?" The FBI agent asks, "I've got a few questions for you. Hope you don't mind."

The man's tone of voice conveys that he really doesn't care if you mind or not. It's immediately obvious that this is the man that Kerry was in contact with- he's brash, demanding, and you catch a hint of something a little feral, just beneath the surface.

"Of course. Happy to help, if I can," You pause. "You're FBI, right?"

You hear a shuffling of clothing, and deduce that he's pulled out his badge. As if realizing you can't see it, the man quickly adds, "That's right. Special Agent Peter Strahm"

Strahm. The one who knows the water as well as you do. He pulls out the chair from across from you, and sits. The woman's presence remains hovering like a spectre toward the back of the room.

"I'd say it's nice to meet you, but..." you grimace, "Allison was my oldest friend. It's only been a few hours since I heard that they'd... found her. Sorry if I'm not all together."

"You didn't hear it from Detective Hoffman first?" Strahm asks. Every word he speaks seems tinged with irritation, as though everything is moving too slowly for him and he's waiting for it to catch up wit where he's at. Ah, so he knows.

"No. I expect he was busy with the fallout from the discovery. She was his friend, too," Forcing the words through your teeth is a bit harder than expected, "The station radioed me and asked me to come in. They told me... the basics."

"How much did they tell you? What do you know, exactly?" Strahm's words are like daggers, pointed and direct. The man is quick, and gives no quarter in his pursuit. Clearly, he'll be a dangerous adversary for you and Mark.

But maybe it's the water thing- you find that you kind of like him, right off the bat. Short-temper and barely-concealed-rage and all.

"Just that she was found... uhm, in a Jigsaw trap. I didn't even know... she was missing. We haven't spoken in a few days, but she was pretty busy, so it wasn't that uncommon. And then suddenly I get a call-"

You'd met with John several days prior, and when you'd gone home, you'd tried to reassure yourself- Kerry is a survivor. She would be fine. You'd texted Mark, anxiously looking to talk. He hadn't replied.

Days had turned into nights with no news. Your dread had grown, until you got the call.

Guilt is choking you. If you'd just done something... been a good friend, a good person. Maybe all of this had been a mistake. It's too hard to think logically, rationally.

Kerry is dead.

"Sorry," You mumble, wiping the tears from under your sunglasses, "it's been a lot to take in."

"Take your time," Strahm says, the subtext in his tone demanding that you don't. Then, after barely a moment has passed, he moves on and adds, "Open the door and you will find me."

"Excuse me?" The phrase is so strange it snaps you out of your misery spiral.

"Mean anything to you? Did Kerry ever say anything like that?"

"No?" For once, you're drawing up a complete blank at the phrase. It means absolutely nothing to you. "Was it... was that something she told you guys?"

There is a long, pregnant pause. The air in the room, already stuffy, grows thicker.

"What did you just say? Can you repeat that?" Strahm asks, an edge to his voice that is equally quiet and dangerous. You wonder if you've slipped up somehow, in a way you haven't caught yet.

"Did she tell you that?" You repeat, still confused.

"Who were you referring to when you said 'you guys?'" Strahm asks. Your sightless gaze slides over to where you know the woman is standing, and you realize your mistake.

Clever. You'll have to watch yourself around this one.

"You and your partner" You say, gesturing her way. No point in pretending you don't know she's there, "Who I guess you haven't introduced yet."

"What I'm wondering," Strahm says as he stands and walks over to your side of the table, "Is how you knew she was here, if I didn't introduce her. It was Jigsaw who abducted you and blinded you, isn't that right?" He leans down, bracketing his arms on either side of you.

A man used to using his physicality to intimidate. He reminds you of Mark.

You smile up at him. Gloves off.

"I guess I've always been perceptive, Agent Strahm. It doesn't mean I'm not really blind," you reply.

You're not sure what you're expecting him to do, but it comes as a surprise when he grabs your sunglasses and takes them off of your face. He's close enough to you that you can hear his sharp intake of breath when he sees your eyes- or what remains of them.

"Sorry to disappoint. I assure you, the police department here isn't that incompetent. You can check the hospital records too, if you want. They ran a bunch of tests which boiled down to acid will do that." You look up at him, still smiling a little sheepishly, in a way you really hope creeps him the fuck out.

"That won't be necessary," He hisses out, pissed. It's hard to tell if he's angry with himself, you, or the world at large.

You pluck your sunglasses from his outstretched hand, without bothering to pretend that you don't know where he's holding them, and slide them back onto your face.

"Special Agent Lindsey Perez. Good afternoon," The woman finally introduces herself, and you nod in her direction, "As I understand it, you're dating the lead detective on the Jigsaw case- Mark Hoffman. How did you meet?"

Strahm leans away from you, retreating from your side of the table. You get the distinct impression he wants to flip it.

"Well, I knew him a little through Allison," You say, "But then when I was kidnapped- he was the one to find me. I got to know him better, after that."

"How charming," Strahm sneers, "How well do you know Detective Rigg?"

"Uh, not particularly well?" The questions are coming quickly, non-sequitur. Probably to keep you on your toes, "Don't tell me something's happened to him too?"

"No, don't worry. We just want to get a sense of how involved you are in all of this. Jigsaw frequently targets the police, and those associated with them," Perez makes a good good-cop to Strahm's bad-cop. Her voice is soothing, a stark contrast with Strahm's demeanour. You can see why they were partnered.

"And you're right in the heart of this. Tested yourself, and you lived to tell the tale. Your best friend is murdered. And your boyfriend's the lead investigator," Strahm makes no effort to hide his suspicion, "I'm going to take a wild leap here and say you know more about this case than the average civilian."

"That's true," And because you can't help it, you add, "Allison did tell me the FBI agent she was in touch with was a real pain in the ass to deal with."

Perez coughs, in a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. Strahm doesn't. He slams his palms down on the table, in a move that makes you jump.

"And now she's dead," he nearly shouts, killing the levity as he moves back over to tower over you, "And you've got nothing to add whatsoever. You didn't see anything when you were taken, you don't know anything now, is that right?"

"It is," You answer evenly, "But I can tell you this. She never gave up on Matthews. She was sure he was alive out there. And... you're right, about me being tangled up in this. It's obvious Jigsaw goes after people who are getting close to him. I've been tortured already, so I'd turn my gaze toward the other people at the forefront, if you're worried about finding his next target."

"So how were you?" Strahm all but murmurs in your ear, hovering close to your face once again, "Getting close?"

Shit. You really have to mind your words. He's good. A truth here was better than another lie.

"I take it Allison didn't tell you she brought me in as an advisor to the case, at one point? Before I was tested." You reply quietly, "I didn't want to say- to make her look bad. We were all a bit embarrassed by it. Me, her, Rigg, Mark-"

"Why the fuck has no one told me this before now?" You hear Strahm ask in annoyance, his head turning toward Perez, "Kerry brought a civilian into the investigation, and the whole goddamn precinct knew? And no one mentioned it?"

"Because I was brought in as psychic," You reply, still unable to keep yourself from cringing.

There is another long pause of silence.

"Run that by me again," Strahm says, voice tight.

"I told you I'm perceptive. Allison believed-"

"No, no, no-" You feel like you can hear Strahm pushing his palms into his eyes, "You've got to be kidding. Is everyone at this division a complete moron?"

"This is why no one told you. It didn't go anywhere, we didn't get any leads from it. It was a last ditch attempt. But maybe Jigsaw is superstitious. He must have found out somehow. I don't know." Skirting around the truth seemed to be working better than evading his questions outright.

As Kerry had often said, you weren't a good liar. But maybe you were improving.

"Is that how you could tell I was here?" Perez asks, sounding genuinely curious. Strahm lets out a noise of complaint and protest at her question. You nod in response.

"Yeah. I guess," You shrug.

"Great, great. A complete circus, all of this. Christ. I think we're done here." Strahm walks back around to the entrance of the room, his steps tinged with a frustration that echoes off of him in waves. Before he leaves, he turns to you.

"Oh, any predictions you want to tell me before I leave? Like who the killer is?" He asks, like he still can't believe what he's heard.

You say the first thing that comes to your mind.

"Just one bit of advice. Keep a ballpoint pen on you," You say. With another scoff, he leaves, slamming the door to the room behind him with so much force that the room shakes.

---

[4:53PM - Outgoing] We need to talk.

[5:12PM - Incoming] little busy right now

[5:13PM - Outgoing] I spoke to the FBI today. I swear to God, Mark. If you don't talk to me I'll ask for a follow-up interview.

[5:17PM - Incoming] you do that you burn yourself

[5:19PM - Outgoing] My best friend is dead. Fucking try me.

---

Mark calls you. He can't even spare a visit.

"Do I need to be actually worried? Or are you just blowing off steam?" Is the first thing that he says to you when you answer your phone. You immediately get the impression that he's not concerned in the slightest that you might actually report him.

"Did you rig Kerry's test to fail?" You demand to know.

"Answer my question first. Did you mean it when you threatened me?" Mark huffs out a laugh, "Because if you're going to threaten me, you should mean it."

Just like that, all of the fight in you, the anger and the fury and the guilt, is snuffed from you like a candle light. God, you're tired. You've missed his voice.

"What am I supposed to do, Mark? How else can I get your attention?" You hate how much it sounds like you're pleading with him. "You haven't spoken to me in days. You leave me in the dark. My best friend turns up dead. What am I supposed to do?"

He sighs. "I wanted to keep you out of it. Knew you wouldn't like Kerry being tested, and I didn't want you more involved-"

You laugh, strained and almost delirious as you cut him off. "Involved? Mark, up until now you have gleefully drawn me further and further into this chasm. Don't tell me you regret it now."

"Things... are going to get bad over the next few days," He tells you, voice low, "I needed you separate, so that if things go south-"

"Did you rig Kerry's test to fail?" You repeat, voice like stone, "No more secrets, Mark. You want us to be partners. I need to be able to trust you. So this is it. Tell me the truth."

"No," He answers, and you can tell he's holding something back. At your silence, he relents and continues, "But I suspected Amanda would. She's been killing all of her targets."

You let out a shaky exhale. You don't feel angry. You feel empty. Mark continues.

"Kerry was getting closer to the truth. And with those FBI Agents on our trail too... listen. John's going to be dead by the end of the week. Amanda too. I figured these FBI Agents, they'd be able to pin it all on her. Then after she's dead, it's a nice and neat end to the story," You can hear him frown. He sounds tired by it all, too, "But they know about me. They know there's an accomplice. They realized Amanda and John couldn't have strung Kerry up like that alone. I'll need to kill them both, too."

John Kramer had certainly been right about one thing. Without your influence, his empire would crumble under Mark's leadership alone.

In your mind's eye, you see a pile of limbs. Bodies piled high, twisted and broken, jagged pieces of metal jutting from their sides. The pile seems to move, breathing like a beating heart. An amalgam lump of desperate moves. One of the corpses looks at you with empty eyes. It looks like Mark.

"You can't kill every single person that catches your scent, Mark," You tell him incredulously, "You think this will end well for you if you just murder anyone who gets in your way?" You feel exasperated, but its mixed with a kind of relief: that you're talking again, that he's being honest with you. That maybe, you can move forward and get through this. That you can help.

"I can until they stop coming," Mark mutters darkly. A chill runs through you as you realize he's not kidding. He really would kill his way through hoards of people, until the walls closed in around him. Corpse pile, indeed.

"And then what? Mark, come on, think about this. You can't slaughter the entire FBI," He growls in frustration, and you continue, "Run me through the current plan. Let's talk. Two heads are better than one."

And he does. Mark tells you everything about his plan for the next game- John Kramer's final one, it seems. The testing of Jeff Denlon, his wife Lynn, and Rigg, with the two games played simultaneously. Jigsaw's magnum opus, with the dramatic return of Eric Matthews. Mark would be indisposed, cast as an apparent victim through the trial. To swoop in at the last moment, a hero.

"And if Amanda doesn't fail- well, I'll make sure she does. Amanda and John will die. You leave that to me," Mark tells you. You nod, working through the plan again in your mind.

"Okay. Listen, I really think you should hold off on trying to kill the FBI agents. They are not going to die easy, Mark. Fuck, if we just had more time, we could stage this better, to really get them off your trail..."

"You think I can't handle a couple of FBI agents?" He remarks, and you can feel the excitement at the challenge of a rivalry in his tone. You can't exactly fault him for that. Part of you had been a little thrilled during the interrogation earlier, too.

"Fine, give it a shot, then. Have it your way. Don't say I didn't warn you," You sulk. What is the point of being psychic if no one listens to you?

Mark's problem, you think to yourself, is that he doesn't realize how close this all is to the precipice of complete ruin. That he is proud enough to believe he would be able to take up the mantle of Jigsaw alone, once this last game with John Kramer and Amanda is through.

You wonder if he sees you truly as a partner, or as one of his accomplices. Despite his honesty with you, you file that thought away for later- what is it? Just paranoia? Or a problem that will need to be dealt with?

Speaking of problems: Strahm and Perez know that there's an accomplice. Likely a male accomplice, one who could do the heavy lifting.

Until they find one, they won't give up- not the agents, nor the FBI itself, which would undoubtedly send more agents in their stead to pick up where they left off.

Hm. An accomplice of Jigsaw's. You smile to yourself.

Good thing you know about a spare one of those. Who needs to sacrifice a rook, when you could play a knight?

---

A/N- Sorry this took (checks clock) four months to write. I figured it would be better to just stop agonizing about the writing/rewriting and put it out there. Do you guys mind that we're drawing away from the romance, and more toward the MC's journey? Is anyone still reading this? If not, then I'll just do what I want, anyway 😌

TAG LIST: @icarusinstatic @honimello @haven-is-happy @karmaswitch @the-jester-calamity @teamhawkeye @thebrideofcaliban @mjrkime @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @mrs-hotforhoffman @aliengutzstuff @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic

[mirroredmemoriez]

Lynnmanda headcanons?

OK FINALLY ABLE TO GET BACK TO THIS- Recovered from my fever... Anyway, thanks for the ask! I don't think I have very specific headcannons, just a very clear idea of their dynamic in my own eyes let's say? For example, a lot of the time when discussing ships and such there is the point of who's more dominant/submissive in fandoms yada yada. A lot of the time with Lynnmanda, I see people view Amanda taking the very dominant role, which I stray away from.

Amanda is a fucking crash out. HAHUIREHFUI- She also lacks a lot of experience Lynn has, so there is quite an imbalance when it comes to any aspect of that ship you look at, be it romantic or sexually. Lynn likely has had many average relationships and is married... Oh and having an affair! Sure, she isn't the healthiest example of romance, but in comparison to Amanda? Who's only canonical relationship was with a man who helped her when it came to her drug addiction? Yeah. Lynn is ''better'.

Because also if we theorise other relationships for Amanda, somewhere like when she was in prison isn't the best place for any healthy dynamics. That's also where her addiction started. Then during her time with John? I don't believe even flings were on Amanda's mind, let alone a romantic partner. When people point to her behaviour in Saw 3, let me say it again. AMANDA IS A CRASH OUT. Because whilst yes she was all up in Lynn's business enough for her to likely tell you what shampoo brand she used, Amanda is also sobbing some minutes later and relying on Lynn. Her emotions fluctuate so much and the scenario that is going on isn't the best place to draw conclusions around how she'd act in an actual relationship, romantically or sexually.

Look, it's Saw. I don't have to think this hard, but I do. HURFHIUER Anyway, Amanda latches to people and she isn't just a loyal person, she is DEVOTED. Whether that would extend to Lynn after John kicks the bucket is a thought to be had. One thing I mention a lot when discussing this, is the fact that Amanda does not have a clear definition for love. Be it romantic, parental or one of idolisation. The way she navigates her feelings isn't the standard and the way she displays them isn't either. So much overlaps? These posts I think I articulate myself a bit better and go in more depth??? In regards to them as individuals and together.

Because another thing I'd say I don't subscribe to as much as some of the rest of the fandom is Lynn taking on a very nurturing role to Amanda. Don't get me wrong, when it comes to Lynnmanda I don't think Lynn is leaving Amanda to her demons.... But she's a brain surgeon not a psychiatrist. I see their dynamic as more a push and pull, leaning on one another even if they can't exactly HELP what the other is going through. Neither can be ''fixed.'' I think both have had enough of the concept of people trying to better them.

Characterisation wise with writing I really love my associate @arythias work in the Lynnmanda tag, seeing as we discussed it a lot together :P

And with some of these you may find me in the comments yapping away too. Anyway I am spiralling off- Once again, thank you for the ask! I may come back to these points whenever I feel like it...

[vasito-de-leche]

so three things,one I love your hc/analysis on forget me not its *chefs kiss*and nice to see more content on him!! two I do have a request ! I am curious about your hcs for how forget me not would like actually navigate a relationship?

sorry if this is lengthy or if my request is a lot im a lil new to all this !!

;RE1999 FORGET ME NOT - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Forget Me Not in a romantic relationship.

not lengthy at all, ty for the ask anon! <3 super glad you liked my FMN post too!!

you asked about how I think he'd ACTUALLY navigate a relationship, so I went a little deranged thinking about it cause the guy is FASCINATING to analyze. sorry if you were expecting something else! like, something more romantic? if you just want romance stuff, deffo feel free to leave another ask being more specific!

Right off the bat, Forget Me Not strikes me as a type of person who has a lot of trouble keeping any sort of solid relationships due to his poor interpersonal skills.

Similar to Pavia, he exists outside of conventional society - but unlike Pavia, Forget Me Not has taught himself how to imitate others and mask as a sound, hinged and regular individual. He can charm his way in and out of any conversation, change the tide to his favour and play any role necessary for his goals - but it's all play pretend in the end, because he wholeheartedly believes that none of it is meant to last. Every relationship and connection he makes is done with one purpose in mind: to further his goals.

When someone approaches Forget Me Not intending to seduce or romance him, he plays the role of a perfect gentleman. Or whatever is convenient at the moment, really. His keen eye allows him to quickly discern little details, until he fully figures out your type just so he can adapt accordingly. This is a fantasy that wears off overtime - once you overstay your welcome and outlive your usefulness.

And because Forget Me Not is too much of a coward to risk his reputation and hard work by being the one to break your heart, he manipulates the situation to come out of this relationship scot-free. If you can't find any reason to leave him on your own, don't worry, he'll make sure there's something.

But when it comes to him being interested in someone and navigating a romantic relationship...

When Forget Me Not falls for someone, he falls hard and fast.

I want to insist on the lack of interpersonal skills - Forget Me Not has gone years denying himself of something as simple as a friend, someone to confide in. His whole existence revolves around revenge. To him, there's no space for romance in his life, he has no time for something so "juvenile". He can't fathom the idea of being attracted to anyone. The muscle in his rib cage isn't capable of love, it's just there to keep him alive until the world is rid of humans.

And yet, as blind and oblivious as he may be to his own feelings, Forget Me Not falls hard and fast entirely because of how desperate for connection he is. Attraction is something that paralyzes him and affection is a parasite that worms its way into his heart.

When Forget Me Not falls for someone, he becomes impulsive and reckless, not a lot but just enough to be noticeable by those who see him regularly - there is this slightly intense and unhinged feeling to his words, as opposed to the suave and smooth talk he casually dishes out, like he's itching to unravel and show his true nature right there and then. It's something that you still pick up on, long after that conversation has ended, something that you must've heard incorrectly because it's a little out of character, coming from him.

This is because he has no fucking idea on how to deal with it, because he doesn't even know something is happening to him.

No matter what he does during this state, he finds a way to justify all of his actions because denial is his first and foremost coping mechanism. If he finds himself staring at you from across the room, it's because he's making sure you're behaving. To ensure you're not a spy or cause any trouble to other patrons! If he remembers your favorite drink, it's because he needs to get enough points to be on your good side. After all, you probably have a lot of information he could use. If his hand lingers on yours, it's because he was distracted. Etc, etc.

If it goes on for long enough without any sort of confrontation, it'll start to eat him from the inside. Forget Me Not will think that you're using some arcane skill on him to make him act this way before he acknowledges he has a crush on you. Suddenly, there's a whole new thing occupying his brain - whenever he's not dissociating at home, he's thinking about you and that's dangerous.

Surprises are the way to his heart.

It's very hard to catch his eye, since he doesn't care for appearance nor status - he just doesn't care, period. Again, love isn't an option for someone like him. But the one thing that will absolutely rock his world is being caught off-guard.

Forget Me Not is a great actor, he plays his roles in conversations perfectly, he studies the way people talk to each other, the way one must gesture and move, the appropriate amount of eye contact one should make. He micromanages every single aspect of conversations because diplomacy is his forte, it's something he needs to excel at. Long story short, he knows how each and every conversation should go for him to get his way.

Which is why hearing someone laugh when they shouldn't, a genuine snicker or a chuckle, is enough to give him pause. He's intrigued and lost, because people aren't supposed to behave like that. Not the type of people he's used to, anyway. Condescending laughter is to be expected, everyone is pretending to have fun, but a real laugh? Without any hidden meanings or implications? The audacity to go off-script, regardless of how that might affect you? That's what will inevitably put you right in his sights.

These surprises must start out small, however. Forget Me Not is a very jaded and vindictive person with a very fragile ego and stubborn mind - someone who openly goes against everything he stands for, regardless of whether they're right or not, will end up on his black list. As seen with his reaction to Druvis III choosing to move on from her grief, Forget Me Not doesn't do well with his beliefs being torn to shreds so suddenly.

This mentality about everyone being inherently rotten and bound by so many unspoken rules of conduct and whatnot needs to be challenged little by little. Because at the end of the day, Forget Me Not projects his own baggage onto the world, and he must ease himself into the idea that people (and himself) can have actual depth and be more than just a means to an end.

And sure, he has an obsessive personality - some of his behaviour stems from the need to figure out "the catch", like he's constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop when it comes to you, just so he can go "I knew it!" at the end. Forget Me Not, under all that aloof and detached confidence, is nothing but a wounded animal. Gaining his trust or approval is harder than it is losing it.

On the subject of falling for anyone who isn't a pure blooded arcanist.

There is the possibility that Forget Me Not may fall for a human or mixed - two groups that he, alongside Manus Vindictae, holds with extreme contempt and hatred. Right away, it goes against everything he stands for and, as stated before, he doesn't do well with his beliefs being challenged so abruptly.

Whereas Manus Vindictae is an organization that has no problem being so openly hypocritical in their practices (loathing humans, yet offering them salvation just so that they can be used as pawns), Forget Me Not is an individual who lives mostly within his own head, in a constant state of denial and delusion. The idea of falling in love is already ridiculous to him, I literally just spent so many paragraphs talking about how he needs to ease into the idea of forming any sort of meaningful connection, even if it's something he does yearn for and something that he does so horribly. So imagine the absolute fucking whiplash of falling in love with the representation of everything he despises.

Forget Me Not navigating relationships is already difficult enough, but him trying to navigate a relationship with a human or mixed - especially one that is vocal about his affiliation with Manus and his own opinions - is even harder.

But not necessarily impossible.

However, it would lean towards a godawful and unhealthy dynamic, in which he'll begin to blur the lines between affection and aggression. Think of an ourobos, a permanent loop of Forget Me Not being unable to let go while also pushing you away.

He scrambles to find any "rational" excuse to justify his attraction for you. If you're docile and compliant, he'll insist that you're "different" and "not like other humans" just to remain righteous and true to his beliefs by separating you from your roots. And if you're not afraid to call him out and argue with him, he'll feel validated in his beliefs and latch onto you like a parasite because "you need to be reminded of your place". It's unrealistic to think that Forget Me Not can change his mind and become a better person right away, he would need years to heal from his own baggage and biases, then even more time to undo all the things he's absorbed from Manus Vindictae.

But I know these types of dark relationships aren't everyone's cup of tea, so I won't go into detail about it! Other interpretations in which he manages to get rid of all the toxic sludge that is his emotional baggage and questionable morals are just as valid!

The way Forget Me Not acts when he's in an actual relationship.

Every relationship Forget Me Not has had so far has been for the sake of The Walden and/or Manus Vindictae, and he's always made sure to keep them at arms length anyway - so this would be the very first "proper" and official relationship.

And it's a mess. He reeks of insecurity.

Taking into account everything I've said just far, Forget Me Not could easily put all of that knowledge and masking into treating his partner like the gentleman he pretends to be daily. He could just do that! But it stops coming naturally to him the second he's in your presence. Because the thing that attracted him to you in the first place is all those details that set you apart from his "norm", Forget Me Not is stuck in this area of not knowing whether you'd prefer the person he pretends to be or something else, something he might not be able to provide. Note how it's "something else" and not just himself.

The idea of Forget Me Not as a person falls apart when inspected closely, and so he's left insecure and vulnerable. He latches onto you easily, in private and in public, shifting his focus to revolve around you instead - the brand, new and shiny light in his life - but lacks confidence when it comes to keeping you by his side without any sort of manipulation.

He tries, God, he tries so hard. But I can absolutely see him pull all sorts of moves on impulse. From really childish and petty things (insisting on being the only one to serve you drinks, subtly influencing the seats, so that you always sit somewhere he can see or without any of the other patrons bothering you) to genuinely insidious things (lying both to your face and behind your back to drive the people he considers "undeserving of your attention" away, keep you in the dark about certain topics).

It's a lot of back and forth, establishing boundaries and showing him the lines that shouldn't be crossed so that all these actions don't become the norm. To be in a relationship with him, you'll need a lot of patience to guide him or the backbone to set your foot down when needed. I'd say at this point, he'd definitely respond better to being challenged - you're his partner, after all, he holds you way above everyone else in the room, way above himself as well.

But once he's fully eased into the relationship? When he now knows you like the back of his hand? And you've shown that you're willing to stay, even with all of his faults? He becomes so very clingy, but also much more tired in your eyes.

Forget Me Not's antics - his possessiveness, slightly obsessive behaviour, etc - are replaced instead by this lingering feeling of sadness. Instead of kissing your hand in public to make a statement for the world, he holds your hand in private as if his life depended on it, because he now fully believes the relationship to be too good to last. It's like he's preparing to say goodbye before fully enjoying the present with you. Like you leaving him is not a possibility but the end of the road. Coincidentally, it's this "doomer" mentality what pushes Forget Me Not to be more confident when it comes to being vulnerable around you.

I like to think that Forget Me Not is extremely eloquent when needed, but he's physically incapable of talking about his trauma or any other unpleasant experiences in his life - it's directly a result of all this constant repression. So he wouldn't tell you about it, but he would still hope that you can understand him without the need for words. I just see him as a physical person once comfortable!

[dramioneasks]

I would like fic recommendations with a healthy amount of smut with substance and romance to beef it up. A short but well written story 12 chapters or less. I find the smaller dramione stories can pack more of a punch for me. Oh and only happy endings please xx

Ps. I like it when Draco has feelings for her stewing beforehand/ it doesn't take long for them to develop because his mental commentaries are heartwarming and tummy fluttering.

This is very specific, please don't specify fic length, because a 12 chapter fic can be over 100ks words too.

I don’t mind if you don’t mind (can you read my mind?) - SultryNuns - E, one-shot - She’s miscalculated, staring at him openly, so she captures the abrupt way in which his head snaps up from his work. As a consequence, they’re now looking at each other, which is awkward, but at least he doesn’t know what she’s been thinking about. And then, Draco, usually still as a graveyard if never as quiet as one, twirls his wand again. And again. Watching her all the while, considering her. Hermione has a good sense for when she’s in danger, or an overwrought system that feels as though she always is, but either way, she slams a barrier around her mind, exerts her own graceless occlumency. He knows. And worse, he’s been driving her insane intentionally. 

The Art of Wooing Hermione Granger: a 12-Month Affair by sad_millennial - M, 14 chapters - At a holiday party for Ministry employees, Granger explains the muggle tradition of setting a New Year’s resolution to Draco. Draco, who has recently discovered that his feelings for her are more than platonic, latches onto the idea. What better time to “buckle down”—as the muggle-borns say—on his efforts than January 1? And so, Draco has decided, in the amount of time it takes her to describe the concept, that his New Year’s resolution will consist of one lofty goal: to woo Hermione Granger. All he has to do is navigate decoy, mid, and quarter year resolutions, join a fantasy (American) football team, train for a sprint triathlon, keep an overbearing Theodore Nott away from Granger, and dodge suspicious looks from overprotective Potters.

Mutual, I’m Sure - LadyUrsa - E, 8 chapters - If Draco Malfoy could have one wish in his life, it would be to not be a Veela. Wait, no. It would be to not have Hermione Granger be his mate. Fuck, at this point he would settle for Hermione Granger just being aware of the painfully obvious fact that she was his mate. But only as long as it resulted in monogamous bliss. And getting a cat. ** Two meddlesome best friends, two idiots who are bad at feelings, and a snow-filled Christmas reunion in Vermont. The only thing this White Christmas is missing are some musical numbers.

To Woo a Witch - MyDelphi - E, 8 chapters - Single father Draco Malfoy adored his son. And had decided that for his first Yule, Scorp deserved a priceless gift for being such a good little boy. And what was more priceless than getting him a mother? Getting him Granger as a mother. (Which would be a very convenient present as Draco Malfoy was terribly and irrevocably in love with her.)

Tentacular - Kayka - E, 8 chapters - Auror Draco Malfoy suffers a mishap that renders him alarmingly altered. Lead Healer Hermione Granger has never been one to step down from a challenge, though this tentacle-y little problem may be the first to actually get the best of her.

The Choices We Make - flags_fiend - T, 18 chapters - Draco wants to get through his probation and avoid any further stints in Azkaban. Hermione just wants to get through each week. In many ways they’re more similar than Draco could have ever anticipated. Something’s definitely different about Granger, although what that is is as much a mystery as his new placement. Is it her who has changed or him? As his probation conditions bring them into closer and closer contact, could loneliness become friendship, and then friendship become something more?

My Best Friends’ Best Friend Draco Malfoy - GreenInk_RedLetters - M, 19 chapters - "Look, we obviously don’t get along.“ Malfoy rose a brow. “But Harry is my best friend and for some miraculous reason he’s decided to trust you so I’m proposing a truce." Malfoy crossed his arms. "A…truce?" ”Yes. No insulting my hair or my clothes OR my work habits.“ He looked like he wanted to interrupt her. "And I won’t intentionally insult your necessity for a house elf or your slimy personality." "In the same breath you’ve managed to propose a truce AND insult me.” He paused. “Very Slytherin of you.” Hermione ignored him. "Truce? For the sake of our friends?“ He smirked. "Alright.” Her eyes narrowed. She hadn’t expected it to be that easy. A true enemies-to-lovers Dramione story, with an added twist of the rest of Hermione’s friends having already adopted Draco into their group. But when the pair form a timid truce to work together to assist in Harry’s proposal to Ginny…maybe seeds of friendship (or something more) will start to bloom. Features classic Draco snark, humor, alcohol-induced decision making, and perhaps someone not hating the other *quite* as much as they’d previously alluded to.

-Lisa

[marlowethelibrarian]

The ask game: Project TL edition!

It's my first attempt at a ask game or any ask on tumblr, hope I'm doing this right let's gooooo

My story is a YA fantasy romance (slow burn though) that falls within the lgbt+ umbrella. As for what it is about, well...

Dudes. Drama. Dinosaurs.

🫂- What was your inspiration for your WIP?

Prpject TL started with a song that made me hallucinate a trailer, and BAM. I had to write out how those scenes were strung together.

I had to find out why the members of that family were struggling so much and against whom, why there were two guys travelling together, why they were in love, why there was a dinosaur in town, who the hell committed arson, who was being buried under the tree...

✂️- What was something you had to cut from your WIP?

For some reason, there was a section about dancing to get a blessing from the gods. It just was not working. I liked the idea of protag having to prove his devotion, but it was... meh? Requiring to 1. dance and 2. have someone see him dance was unnecessary and contrived? I was having secondhand embarassment while writing it. In the end I found better ideas and cut it out. Really glad I did it!

🦐- Talk about a time when you made yourself laugh or cry?

23rd march 2023. I was listening to a songs related to the story and started crying thinking about the end segment. It was happy tears!

There is also that part where my characters have a bad argument and protagonist cries because there's nothing he can do to make the situation better, which made me cry as well.

As for laughter, I get giddy every time the main couple decides to execute a bonkers plan!

But the one that NEVER fails to make me laugh like an insane person at 1 AM is one of their first interactions, when love interest tries to knee protag in the lower regions except there's a codpiece in the way so SDENG. One is in shock, the other is in pain. Both are outraged.

🐍- How do you deal with it when you come across a plothole?

Carefully avoid it at first, then come back later to plant flowers around and fill it with water.

Usually a plot hole means an issue that, with the right approach, could be turned into a strenght, so I'm not too worried about them.

💥- What does your writing schedule look like?

No schedule. I only write when in a good mood. Which could be at any time of day and night.

😍- Post one sentence you think is really great.

I can't wait to work a version of this one into the story! Picture it: protagonist's pov has gone on for a while and introduced you to the story and who he is as a person. You have questions about what will he do next and why is it so important for him to be there. Then, the switch to love interest's pov happens:

"While *protagonist* was busy robbing a dead man’s possessions and having unrealistic expectations, I was busy earning my living through a much more legal activity. Selling drugs under the table."

That's it. You don't get any other context. It jumps straight into the events. I love how much it tells you about love interest in so little space.

👽- What do you think is the weirdest thing about your WIP is?

There's a dude who can shapeshift into a fucking dinosaur. And that is NOT what the story is about. Riddle me that.

🌵- What did you start with first for your WIP? Worldbuilding, character, or plot?

Plot and characters! Worldbuilding happened after I studied the best plate tectonics configuration. Biomes are as accurate as I could get them (without losing my mind).

🫀- Do you have an abandoned project? Why did it get binned?

My first attempt(s) at writing a story were hakted due to my inability to structure anything. I have nearly three albums worth of drawings, skethes, writing, notes... completely impossible to navigate. There are notes on the back of drawings, a 50+ pages (small font) collection of pieces of the story, at least three separate attempts as a comic version... I would need to make a copy of everything and SORT THAT FIRST before deciding what is even worth keeping.

When I started the current project, I first structured the folders and files in a comprehensible way. This step has helped IMMENSELY. To this day, I know exactly where to find something and never lose a piece of information. I paused writing for a few weeks due to exams, came back, and was still able to navigate my stuff! It's incredible how much some simple organisational tricks can help me mantain a good workflow!

🔪- How do you feel about writing fight scenes?

The few I did felt ok, I'd like to try again before talking about it. I do feel like I need more experience with them.

🎓- Did you have formal training in creative writing? How do you feel about that?

No formal training, but writing always came easy to me due to how much I used to read as a child. I am very good at stringing words together in my mother tongue, and even won a writing contest once for some more serious type of writing. Plus I got into writing articles for a school joirnal so I had that kind of practice too.

I feel like the more experience you have the better, and while I can't speak on formal training I can tell that even writing as a hobby leads to improvement over time.

👍- What was the first piece of creative writing you ever did? How do you feel about it now?

I recall a story I wrote as a very young child about a bird and how it was raised by humans before being returned to their parents in the wild. Very few sentences, very direct, but it had potential. Funny looking back but I respect the effort!

🥸- Which character is most like you?

Every character has a bit of me in them! But for this one in particular, maybe love interest? He is much easier to write compared to other characters, maybe because of his outlook on life. I share lots of his opinions so I can guess quite accurately how he will react to events.

I am in the process of deepening my understanding of protagonist and adding to his backstory though, so he might end up first place soon.

🕳️- Talk about a research rabbit hole you fell down!

Plate tectonics and how they relate to biomes. Did I mention how I carefully selected how many main plates there were in the world of the story and how they moved so there would be a mountain range exactly where I wanted it to be to make the correct forest biomes in the region? Also did you know that when mountain ranges are positiones a certain way its interaction with winds creates a rain shadow, which means that most water/rain falls on one side of the mountain creating an enviroment very favourable to plant growth, while the opposite side receives little to no rain at all which usually results in cold and dry regions, like shrub–steppe, xeric shrublands or even deserts? I have downloaded an entire university course of material on geology, by the way. Very tempted to make an essay but several friends have warned me to chill about it.

🏡- Would you live in the world you created? Why or why not?

Why not! There's many good things in there. And magic. I like magic!

🎻- Where do you look when you need some inspiration?

Around me. Sometimes inspiration comes at random like a song, or a conversation overheard on the bus. Other times it's a line I read casually in the comments of a video. It can also be an unprompted thought.

I was once walking down a busy street while gnawing on some very leathery and though pizza bought at the store, the ones they sell in the bread section, and suddently I thought "huh, this could make a good scene, the character could be gnawing at a piece of tough bread and it would be a metaphor of how much he pushes through life despite how hard it is. Even if swallowing down is hard he still does it because the alternative is to not do it and he wants to live. He wants more. He wants to believe the next time things will be better. So he takes another bite".

Sometimes hungry me is very dramatic.

📝- What writing software do you use? Does it work for you?

Google docs. I like the ability to link other documents, it helps me stay more organised (which is crucial). The automatic save is also great, and the document history frees me from the worry of accidentally deleting something important and of the hassle of making "historical copies" of the files.

So far it's been working out well, but if there's one thing I dislike is that once you hit a certain size you have to split the document, else it becomes too laggy to work fast. However, it does force me to focus on what's important, so that's a small plus?

📱- Are you planning on publishing? How and where? Are you trying to monetize your writing?

I would love to self publish, or to have the story public somewhere, and be paid for my creativity, but I decided thinking about it too soon might derail me. I'll make some considerations after I'm done writing the first part of the story. I'm writing to be happy about it first! Some people find deadlines useful, for me they don't work all that well. I'll be taking my sweet time and make sure to enjoy the experience.

No matter what, I want this wonderful experience to end with either lots of good memories, a tangible result of my hard work or, best case scenario, both.

Publication is a welcome bonus, if and when I decide to go that route!

Hey! Thanks for answering all these questions! Unfortunately, this is not actually a generally accepted way of answering ask memes on tumblr! Otherwise I'd be making my own blog just an entire catalog of other people's conversations lol.

Usually what happens is that you reblog the original post and then you answer the questions when your followers send you asks with the questions in them! It's good manners to send the person you reblog it from an ask as well. It's just a way to give ourselves permission to ask other people stuff and talk about our own work!

[saiorse-irvyne]

Looking for Beta-readers!

Hello, you beautiful people <3

I'm looking for beta readers for an a/b/o AU I just finished writing the other day! All I need is people who are willing to read and give me their honest thoughts and opinions about it, as well as answer a few questions for me after they’re done.

The story is edited to the best of my abilities and my best friend can to help me with any grammar or spelling mistakes I've missed if i find no one whos interested in that. so no worries about any work in that regard, if youre just here for reading, thats already enough!

What I need is people that can tell me if the story does what I intended it to do.

If it is well paced, if the character progression makes sense, if the romance is believable, if the emotional beats hit right, all that stuff.

(And I have one story beat that I'm not sure work in general, aswell as general uncertainty about the humor i tried infusing this with from time to time)   

About the story: 

You’re looking at 69k words (nice), so it's kind of a slow burn, but not really. Once things get moving, they move fast. It’s a ‘strangers to friends to lovers’- romance situation, with the added caveat of alpha/alpha.

We have Dean and Castiel as the mc’s with both their POV's (and Sam on the side), but apart from that, every additional character is original. 

I really focused on the aspect of how to navigate the struggles of adult love life, with themes like self love, overcoming your fears, dealing with internalized homophobia, emotional maturity, and learning to deal with, and love again after, major heartbreak. 

Although this is Omegaverse, I wanted to approach it from a mature and real angle, hence why the whole alpha/alpha-homophobia setting. It’s really just the a/b/o-equivalent of our current day homophobia, in that regard. 

I made a point about not deriving conflict and tension from anything but real world issues and the problems that come from interhuman connection, because being a person with trauma and issues living alongside other humans with their own, individual struggles is hard. 

So, no misunderstandings in this one. In this house, we talk about our feelings and learn to face our fears when we discover them!

Although the vocal point is all of that, this story IS explicit and has two detailed sex scenes that tie into the development of the plot and are important for character growth. So if that isn’t your cup of tea, this story isn’t for you. 

Additionally, as this is alpha/alpha, the smut has minor sub/dom characteristics. It's very tame and mostly psychological, but I loved exploring the whole dominance/submission angle such a pairing would logically bring about. (On that note, its top Dean/bottom Castiel, just fyi) 

We got a healthy pinch of angst in the beginning and will end with fluff and a happy ending. And a metric fuck-ton of hurt/comfort, so if youre into that, there you go. (Seriously though, i made my lonely ass fucking depressed with this shit. Imagine having someone love you unequivocally for who you are, what a concept) 

I’ll wordvomit some more things here in no particluar order so you can get more of an idea of what you’re working with, as well as the very start of the story as a lil’ sumthin' to get you hooked.

If you are interested in helping me out, send me a DM with your email address and I'll give you access to the google doc! 

All the love!

Sarcastic Castiel, Booksmart Castiel, Angsty Castiel, Dean is an asshole at the start, He will do better, Character growth, Dean is a typical man, Dean is everything i want in a man by the end, Factually not very sound descriptions of working as a mechanic, All the smut tags, Seriously all of them, Sam is significantly younger than Dean, Emotional deepcuts, leaning onto friends, Hurt/Comfort, Writing this was a bit like therapy for me, Unspecified big city, Bitter Exes, Falling out of love, Unhealthy relationships with love, Toxic relationships, Explanations of A/B/O biology, The doctor does doctor things, I can’t think of more things right now, it's late, okay?

Heres the snippet:

Dean threw back the whiskey and sharply sucked in air as the liquid amber burned its way down his throat. The shiver running up his spine while the heat swirled downwards and pooled in his stomach was just what he needed. The confirmation that he could escape from himself, if just for a few hours. 

Usually, he didn’t run from his problems. He had always been the kind of man who pushed ahead, despite any and all obstacles obstructing his way. 

No matter what it was, nothing couldn’t be solved by simply running it over. Even if the resulting chaos kind of hurt.

But that was just how life was- in all its horrific and beautiful glory. It wasn't merciful with the blows it dealt, but it wasn't cruel with it either. A mostly neutral state of affairs, to be dealt with however one could or pleased. 

Which was healthy aggression in Dean's case.

At the end of the day, he'd rather do things that way than sulk in a corner, getting lost in the would haves, could haves, and should haves. Overthinking was the enemy of progress, and he hated nothing more than feeling stuck. 

He lifted his hand and signalled the barkeeper for a refill, not even bothering to call for the man. The music in this joint was cranked up way too high to verbally communicate with anyone who wasn’t literally right in front of you anyway. 

Although rather small, the establishment was positively drowning in people. It had startled him a bit, as this was a bar at the edge of town, and it wasn’t even the weekend or any holiday that would prompt this kind of crowd, but it was exactly what he had been searching for. 

Strangely, the building it was housed inside looked expensive as hell. Sleek and modern, like it had been built by some rich landlord to be rented out for ludicrous prizes. Which was why Dean had expected a relaxed lounge bar or something of the like. Not this madness. 

Well, under different circumstances, this probably was said lounge bar.

Right now though, every single table and booth was occupied, with lots more people standing around with drinks in their hands, making idle chatter that could only consist of short utterances at best. 

A dancefloor had established itself in the middle of the room where a shapeless amalgamation of bodies, clothes and hair moved along to the pumping music. 

From the few words he had been able to decipher as he had asked the barkeep about the occasion, it was some kind of motto-party. Something about 80s and 90s music-night that happened once a month. 

Most likely for the less city inclined folks to get their freak on, without having to go downtown and into an actual club. 

Dean didn’t really care, all he needed right now was to be around people. Be in the presence of other humans, be just one more face in the crowd. The feeling of overwhelming loneliness that had taken hold of him on his drive home had just been too much for him to spend the evening by himself. 

The houses and people had shot by, made to look flat and strangely lifeless in the mellow twilight of countless street lamps lining the road, when it had sunk its claws into him out of nowhere. 

So all encompassing, so vicious. As if it had waited for him to be worn out enough, skulked for the moment of weakness where he would not be able to restrain it anymore. 

Given how he had been living in the past year (and the years before that, if he was honest with himself), it wasn’t a complete surprise why he felt this way. But its intensity was still strange. 

It had quickly grown to be so unbearable that he had pulled over at the first opportunity and had fled into the night, searching for anything to distract himself with. Anything to not feel it anymore. 

Technically, he should really go home and sleep. There was an awful lot of work waiting for him tomorrow, and he would need to get to it as early as possible if he didn’t want to fall behind. But even knowing that, he couldn’t be bothered to care for the problems of his future-self right now. 

Another glass of whiskey appeared in front of him, and Dean picked it up with a thankful nod towards the barkeeper. It met the same fate as the first one immediately. Before the man could turn away to tend to the other people at the bar, Dean shoved the empty glass across the counter and motioned for another refill. 

The feeling of loneliness and anxiousness still circled his mind from the shadows he had forcefully banished it to. Prowling. Waiting for him to let down his guard just enough to pounce and sink its teeth into his neck again. He needed more to shut it out for good. 

“Someone’s motivated tonight,” the man laughed and poured more whiskey into the glass in a trained motion. 

“You know how it is, life’s a bitch and she’s not yet pretty enough for my taste,” Dean said with a crooked grin. He finally started feeling the buzz of the alcohol, and he was delighted by the sensation. It promised freedom. 

Dean chuckled along as the barkeeper laughed at his crude comment and took another sip of his whiskey. This time he savoured the taste while he turned and let his gaze wander over the crowd. Maybe he would find himself a pretty omega to distract himself with. It hadn’t felt like that kind of night at first, but the idea actually didn’t sound all too bad right now. 

What better way to get rid of pent up stress than to pound it away into a willing victim? It was what he did best, actually. Not that that was be anything to be proud of, really. 

Thankfully, that kind of relief wasn't exactly hard to get for him. If there was one thing Dean could count on, it was his looks to make anything of the like to happen, whenever he so pleased.

He didn’t think of himself as vain. But he knew that, objectively, he looked good. Apart from the plentiful statements from others that had echoed the notion over the years, the effect that a friendly smile combined with a flirtatious comment alone had on omega’s was proof enough. 

It wasn’t like he had an ego about it. A little one maybe. But he wasn’t about to complain about the fact that the genetic lottery had blessed him with good looks. And he wasn’t above taking advantage of the luck of the draw to satisfy his desires either.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to get a general idea of what he had to work with. As much as he appreciated what his own looks did for him, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about those of others. It was a nice bonus at best, but what really counted was their scent. 

Anyone could be beautiful, but only few omega’s managed to entice his alpha on a deeper level. And if he was going to do this, he wouldn’t just take anyone with a pretty face. 

He would seek out someone who made his instincts rattle. Someone who triggered his primal urges to run away with him. 

Someone who would bring salvation from the melancholic maelstrom that still faintly threatened to pull him down into its depths. 

The flourish of odours and fragrances that hit his palette was a lot to take in. With so many people stuffed into this cramped space, the room was positively overflowing with airborne aromas. 

The sweet, flowery scents of omegas, the harsh, earthy scents of other alphas and the mellow, flat ones of betas. All of it, fused into the general smell of sweat, perfume and spent air. 

Dean let the concoction rest on the back of his tongue, searching. In this first breath, there wasn’t anything that piqued his interest.

Scent compatibility was technically not required for a hook-up, because there was nothing really wrong with any omega’s scent. None had ever been as boring as those of betas, or as passively acrid as those of most other alphas. 

But in Dean’s personal experience, only the owners of scents who truly stirred his alpha were the ones that he didn’t feel kind of empty with after the deed was done. 

If someone only met the basic requirement of being an omega, it would just be flesh on flesh, meaningless and depressing when the post nut clarity set in. And few things were less enjoyable than being knotted to someone for an hour, who painfully reminded him of the escapism he had just partaken in by merely existing. 

Dean kept searching, growing more disheartened with each breath. Of all of these people, no one smelled enticing at all. Was there truly not one omega here who suited his taste? 

He was about to give up and just accept that it wasn’t supposed to happen for him tonight, when something entirely different hit his palate. 

Something unique. And intoxicating. 

It had concealed itself behind the translucent curtain of scents, almost like it had been hiding from him. 

It was like one of those ludicrously expensive perfumes that didn't smell like much in passing, but revealed a deep and layered complexity once you really focused in on it.

A few more drags, and he was sure. It seemed like he was about to get lucky after all. 

Dean emptied his whiskey and pushed himself off the barstool, ready to track down whoever smelled this delectable, and make them his for the night.

[narzissenkreuz-ordo]

neuvillette/silvanus sounds so cute, the post about him looking after her while sick gave me the mental image of a two hour bedside water tasting session complete with neuvi info dumping on each glass of water (ploy to get silvanus to drink water)

do you have an opinion on neuvi/wrio/oc, for example with silvanus since you already ship neuvi/silvanus and wrio/neuvillette

FJDKFJDKFDS WATER DATING DATE BEFORE THEY EVEN DATE.... 2 hours of silvanus displeased over having to drink water and is starting to get suspicious of him coming to see her so often since he probably has work to do but she doesnt KNOW since everyone is keeping a blackout on any relevant work related things so she doesnt try to micromanage everything when shes supposed to be resting

this ask is making think of the timeline that leads up to their super secret office romance:

silvanus already has a chronic illness and gets sick from exhaustion/over working/poor nutrition and has to be bedridden for at least a month

everyone rotates around to make sure shes doing ok through out the day (sigewinne comes up from the fortress every few days to check on her symptoms and wrio tags along, navia is there the most to make sure shes actually eating and taking any meds, clorinde fills in any gaps, and neuvillette only comes a long a few times with clorinde)

neuvi with his autism lizard brain doesn't know how to handle the situation at all, its been raining this whole time since he feel so fuckin guilty that he didnt know anything was wrong this whole time

but one morning he's the only one free so he has to go ALONE and its very awkward at first because he doesnt know how to navigate any of this and silvanus is like oh my god why is my boss in my house what the fuck

i have to think abt it more but during that first visit silvanus is able to connect the dots abt him being the hydro dragon and he doesnt deny it

then he keeps showing up more and more (he's volunteering to go when he can not doesnt let silvie know) and the two become more comfortable around each other and water tasting 'date' happens

they both realize at the same time have mutual feelings between then but neuvi says he needs some time to think abt it all and his position and is literally like 'i will get back to you between 7 and 10 business days'

i have idea for first date but its cringe so it lives in my brain for now

I DO SHIP WRIO/SILVANUS TOO i just dont know how to fit the 3 of them together nothing feels right. yet jfkdlsfjkdls

[trevisos]

6 + 7 for Xarrai and Ieriyn from the ask meme you reblogged?

hiii anon thank you 💖

6. How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?

xarrai:

idk man astarion works pretty fucking hard to do this and it does not work LOL the thing about xarrai is that they barely have a moral compass at all and so what little they DO have they are incredibly dedicated to. like the only real moral they have to speak of is Tyranny Is Bad - though like, there's wiggle room there (in their opinion). at what point does something become tyranny? how much power is too much? i feel like they're constantly living in that grey area honestly so it may not be as hard to get them to do something against their morals if you kind of treated it like the frog in the boiling water analogy. like what astarion did (offered to share the power of the vampire ascendant with them) would not work because they can go "hm no that sounds like tyranny. hard pass." (tho he was also lying and they knew that) but if someone were to, say, encourage them to take power slowly and carefully by winning people over one by one and systematically ruining their lives to keep them in line, you may be able to get them a few ruined politicians deep before they were like "hey wait a minute...."

i rly need to expand on the weird mind games they've been playing with the elites of the upper city for the last 15 years to make this answer make any amount of sense tbh but that is its own can of worms. essentially for them the line between tyranny and simple control/influence is very thin and always moving and they are always always always right up against it out of some sort of baked in compulsion to seek safety in power whether they use that power or not.

ieriyn:

ieriyn has already crossed that line. killing people at all period was against his moral compass. BUT that wasn't him being convinced so much as him seeing the reality of the situation this whole tadpole business has put him in which i think is kinda different. and see the thing about ieriyn is he's not stupid but he is trusting and the right person probably could convince him of a lot. i'm cooking up some sort of plot wrt to his lifelong mentor manipulating him into. something (undecided what yet) that's going to play into the personal quest i'm giving him (bc i'm unwell and need all my tavs to have their own special personal quests) but that's like the exact thing i'm talking about - ieriyn trusts easy and he trusts deeply and while he does have a strong moral compass he also has a deep need to please the people he cares for that makes critical thinking harder for him sometimes.

7. What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

xarrai:

well when i made xarrai they were just some dude. they were just a stoner bard who moonlighted as an expensive fssw and that was... it. lol. they didn't give a shit about much of anything (still kind of true, though they have Some Things They Give A Shit About now) and absolutely didn't want to be any sort of leader. and now they're. well. an ex-banite cultist with a shitload of childhood trauma and an abstract sense of self trying to navigate cycles of abuse and trauma AND a stoner bard who moonlights as an expensive fssw.

ieriyn:

i initially planned to multiclass him into a warlock with the idea that he made this pact Very Recently to try to wrest power/inheritance money away from his older siblings but that seemed 1. too power hungry and i already have xarrai and their weird relationship to power and 2. too cool. ieriyn needed to be a little cringe. he needed to be a boyfailure. he was also originally meant to be part of a co-op campaign with my partner for their spawn astarion romance run (they r doing an ascended run rn) but i just didn't think his arc would work as well if he had to share responsibility like that because, again, i wanted him to be kind of a failure esp early game and the tav ramza has planned for their astarion romance is actually competent and i didn't want to bog him down with my sweet sweet fail son.

[littleeyesofpallas]

I've always had this conflict with Supergirl as a character, because truly no one has ever had any goddamn idea what to do with her. And that's not super uncommon with legacy/derivative characters, especially the XYZ-girl/XYZ-woman ones. But it's especially frustrating when Superman's such a thematically distinctive icon, yet Supergirl is never really afforded any of that...

Where is her immigrant story?

What makes her an All American woman?

Is she a Paragon of Womanhood the way Superman is for manhood?

or is she just your regular small town girl-next-door?

Is she super smart as part of the whole Super(tm) package the way Superman is? Or is that superseded by her being ""pure & innocent"" and thus by defaults of those cliches, fucking stupid?

What's her relationship to power? Clark pursues Truth and Justice because he knows he can take the retaliation from corrupt actors in ways normal people can't. So what does being an invulnerable woman mean for how Kara navigates the world? (Where is her World of Cardboard speech?)

How does she relate to the awkward parallels to gibberish race science eugenics that invariably pop up in these stories?

She actually lived on Krypton, she actually has at least some grasp of Kryptonian culture, certainly more than any version of Kal ever has, so what does being the REAL Last Kryptonian mean for her? What does that legacy mean in the context of her and Clark's coexistance?

...nevermind all the dynamics to come from how those themes interact with the specifics of whatever timeline/continuity she's in and what that version of Clark are.

But I'd love to see Supergirl as a liberation from social and cultural expectations of womanhood. I'd love a version of her origin story where she's not just incidentally escaping Krypton along with Kal, but where she's implicitly and explicitly tasked with being both his guardian and the future mother of a new Kryptionian race, all while acknowledging that she's very much still a child herself. I want her to face the anxiety of having "motherhood" as Kal's guardian thrust upon her when she's not ready, I want her to dread what it would mean for her to raise Kal "wrong." I want her to face the implicit "responsibility" of having to have a kid with Kal and ALL the things that make that undesirable for her, both on the obvious broader levels but also the deeply personal ones. And more importantly, I want to see how arriving on Earth and finding out that all those expectations don't actually exist defines her and how she approaches her life as one free of those oppressive obligations.

She's basically locked in a box flying thru space going stir crazy thinking about she's basically going to be a teen mom, how she's got an arranged marriage to a "man" she doesn't know, how that "man" is going to basically be her foster son first, how she's going to have to find some way of fulfilling those contradictory obligations while not just grooming him, how she's never had the chance to develop her own sexuality before having all of the impersonal aspects of a sexual relationship thrust upon her, and all of the awful cultural propaganda that it hinges on... and when faced with the realities of being free from that, having to subsequently lead a "normal" life as a woman in America.

Like, when the idea that your family and your race don't literally and directly rely on you having babies --and also when you're physically incapable of being forced to do anything you don't want to-- then of course no amount of patriarchal horseshit in romance is going to pressure you into it. There's nothing of value that gibberish bullshit about propagating ""the white race"" has to offer her --and yeah, unavoidably, she will always walk this dangerous line where the bullshit white replacement conspiracy is just one shitty writer and a moment of fridge logic away. But by addressing it, she has this remarkable potential to be a parable for everything a woman can do with her life if she doesn't capitulate to the pressures and limitations of a cliched, archetypal ""Womanhood"" in the service of fucking crackpot eugenics.

(Also it's a whole tangent I don't want to get into here but god damn it the Kryptonians should not be capable of procreating with humans, or at least not with super powered offspring. It's such a chickenshit copout of all the drama of how to handle the legacy of Krypton.)

[retrauxpunk]

tagged by the inimitable @itsevidentvery in a TROPE TAG i love tropes let’s go

slow burn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt-comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut or fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death  // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or middle aged romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or gender bend // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane

as a bisexual i deserve a trophy for actually making binary choices in all this because some are just BOTH GOOD

tagging: anyone who wants to do this and also @sardoniyx @likealotofratsfromasinkingship @raymondshieldsofficial @queenofslime @beetlebum79

[constellatedcolors]

Why the Avalance Baby Storyline Makes Sense

Okay okay okay. I’ve been seeing some discourse about Legends of Tomorrow & the recent Avalance pregnancy reveal. I don’t watch the show, but I’ve followed their storyline pretty closely over the years. I love the relationship, and it’s really cool that their romance is the emotional core of LoT.  I also am not a huge fan of kids. I don’t want any myself, and I think there are only a few shows that have done baby stuff well.  Point is: I am coming from a pretty neutral place when I say that the baby storyline makes complete sense for these characters. Not sure who I’m writing this for, but here’s a relatively unbiased, observer’s perspective. Ava’s a clone. She had a whole arc about why she’s more than where she came from. She had her own development, but reckoning with that part of herself was undoubtedly aided by the fact that her love for Sara was something that couldn’t be manufactured- undoubtedly real proof she wasn’t just a copy. Sara can pull anyone but she wants Ava, and has assured her of that every step of the way.  Ava started as a hardass who wanted things to fit in boxes, and didn’t like insane ideas. She grew to tolerate- even enjoy- chaos because of Sara and the Legends. And what’s more chaotic than having a kid? NOTHING I think there’s a deleted scene from season 5 where Sara tries to apologize for the mess she and her team have caused and Ava cuts her off to say:

I love everything you bring into my life. All of it. All the time.

And I know we’ve moved past the clone shit, and that adoption is equally valid, but it must be emotional for Ava to know their kid is actually going to be equally their own. (And I do firmly believe they’ll take in kids who need a family down the line.) Sara was one of those people who was super free, but scared of commitment. She’s had flings with other men and women, but none stuck because she spent so long believing no one could love all of her. She wouldn’t let herself imagine any sort of future like that. Until Ava came along, and stuck around. And loved not in spite of all her fuck ups, but because of them. And has told her many times over that she wants to be the person Sara can come to when things get to be too much. Ms. one-night-stand Lance allows herself to imagine a life with Ava. And even though they hit some rocks because of Sara’s fears, they worked through them, COMMUNICATED, and came out stronger. Sara proposed! When Ava got erased momentarily in 7x05, Sara was honest and said that the pain of seeing her disappear extended beyond just losing her; it was like her entire life went away too. I don’t recall her ever being as vulnerable as she is with Ava.  She’s been the captain for a while, has always been been a protective figure, but I think this storyline is a really, REALLY cool way to explore more nuanced emotions. Sara has an innate desire to protect everyone, but now she has to recognize that it’s not just her life on the line anymore. Compounded with the loss of her powers, she will have to learn how to navigate dangerous situations in different ways.  She’ll still definitely kick ass, of course. But, narratively, this will open the audience up to a new side of Sara. Which is damn impressive for a show in its seventh season.  I don’t know if that all made sense, but I do hope that LoT comes back for at least another season so we really get to see how Ava & Sara navigate this new phase of their relationship. 

[miekasa]

bad romance

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genres and warnings: friends with benefits au, friends to lovers au (well i guess that’s open for interpretation lmao), modern au—college au?, explicit smut, mentioned/implied virginity

+ summary: friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school is probably a bad idea. friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school who you’ve also been in love with for the past seven years—all for the purpose of her gaining ‘experience’ so she’s not nervous to do it with some other guy she has a crush on—is probably a really bad idea. levi ackerman is not known to make great decisions.

+ word count: 3.5k

+ notes: truth be told, i don’t even know if i like this; i took this from an outline/draft of a series i’d planned but know i’ll never complete. it’s kind of unedited too heh, also if you’re a minor pls do not interact 

Levi doesn’t think anything of it when he finds you on his doorstep on a rainy Saturday evening. It’s very much like you to show up unannounced and attempt to drag him into whatever activity you want to do that day. He’s fairly certain that Hange picked that up from you. Someone should tell her that it doesn’t work so well unless it’s you tugging on his arm sleeve and interrupting his otherwise peaceful evening. 

So, for a while, everything is normal. You make fun of him for his use of, admittedly overpriced, organic butter when he toasts you a bagel; he makes jabs at you shuffling around his apartment like a semi-wet chihuahua, and all is right with the world.

Until it’s not. Because half-way into whatever stand-up comedy Netflix special you’d persuaded him into watching with you, Levi’s had enough of your nervous ticking. He doesn’t know if you think that he wouldn’t notice, but he does. And he knows it’s not the result of you still being wet or cold from the rain, seeing as you’ve long since dried off and warmed up. 

You’re focused on the show (ironically, focused to a point of distraction), you’ve been twiddling your fingers since it started, and you’ve been fidgety since you stepped foot into his house. Quite frankly, he finds it insulting that you think he wouldn’t know something’s up by now.

So, he bends his knee, turns his body towards yours, lifts his elbow to rest atop the edge of the soft, and presses his cheek into his palm: “Alright, spit it out.”

“Huh?—What do you mean?” You look at him with wide, startled eyes. He looks back at you with unamused, expecting ones.

You crack a nervous smile, attempting to laugh off his command as incredulous, but instead, your voice comes out in what sounds like a pathetic attempt to cover up a lie—probably because it is, “What? Can’t I spend sometime with my favorite, surly psychology student?”

Levi scoffs at your batting eyelashes. The look he throws you seems to do the trick as you drop your facade with a sigh and shift yourself to face him on the couch too, your bent knees almost touching.

“Alright, fine, you got me,” you sigh, hands resting in your lap, “You, um... you know how you said you’d help me with, like, uh... sex and stuff?”

Levi raises an eyebrow. Of course he does. He watches as your eyes dart around the room waiting for his response. It’s cute as heck, and if the topic of conversation at hand weren’t about to get so compromising, he’d have probably teased you about it.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well… okay, so, you remember Jean, right? The guy I told you about?”

Levi hums. Yeah, he remembers Jean, but only because you can’t seem to shutup about him, not because he’s particularly memorable otherwise. He seems to be kind of a prick and a huge idiot, if you asked Levi; but, that’s kind of his default impression of most people. 

“Jean and I hung out yesterday, and it was normal, you know? We just talked and ordered food and watched a movie,” you rub your palms along the fabric of your yoga pants—another nervous tick he’s been observing, “I don’t know if it was a date or not, because he didn’t say it was, and I don’t want to assume, but Marco keeps saying it was, and that Jean wants to actually ask me out.”

Levi blinks. “And?”

“And if he does ask me out—or even if he just… I don’t know, wants to try something the next time we hang out, I don’t want to look like a complete idiot!”

He refrains from letting a noticeable grimace take over his features; and washes away the unsettling feeling in his stomach with a nonchalant comment, “I doubt he’ll try anything on your first date.”

“But what if it’s not a date! People hang out just to hook up all the time.”

“I thought you wanted to date him?” Levi questions, but his it comes out as more of a deadpan statement.

“I do,” you answer, your response a little delayed and drawn out, “But, I wouldn’t mind just sleeping with him, either.”

“Bold statement from someone who’s never slept with anyone before.”

“Have I told you today that you’re an asshole?” you roll your eyes at him, “Come on, Levi, you know what it’s like to just want someone, but not want them, don’t you? You’ve had one night stands before.”

That’s true, Levi knows it, but it’s different. He wasn’t actively seeking advice from his friends about how to pursue and potentially please his one night stands because none of that mattered—well, the pleasing part, probably, but not the pursuit, or the feelings that came with it. Besides, Levi hasn’t felt the desire for any of that in a long time.

“That’s not the same,” he responds, trying to dismiss the muddy feelings crawling up his throat, “Look, if your Jean guy gets horny when you’re hanging out, just make out with him—make him jizz his pants or something.”

“That’s terrible advice,” you frown, “Plus, he’s probably done that with a million other girls.”

“Probably. Sex tends to repeat a few basic actions here and there.”

“For a psychology student, you sure are a terrible makeshift therapist, do you know that?”

“That’s not even the kind of psychology I study, never mind that I never asked to be your therapist.”

Levi takes great amusement in your huffing and the frustrated pout settling into your features, though he does his best to not let his own smile shine through. It’s probably futile; you can probably see through his facade, anyways.

“I just don’t want to bore him, Levi.”

Any trace of his smile vanishes as those words leave your mouth. Levi doesn’t retain much about this Jean guy you keep going on about, and he doesn’t care to in all honesty—but maybe if he did, he could understand why you’re so hellbent on pleasing the kid.

Levi doesn’t like it, not one single bit. His own feelings for you aside, he doesn’t like how Jean has managed to worm his way into your head and make you think that he’s deserving of any kind of affection from you, whether it be platonic, romantic, or sexual. Because he isn’t; Levi might not know him, but he knows that much. 

Still, he sympathizes with you. He understands the pressure of navigating dating and hookup culture, especially in a university setting; never mind the additional expectations set on you as a girl. It’s shitty, all of it; the stupid feelings, the sense of uncertainty, the dumb-ass college pricks. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of that. 

“You won’t,” is Levi’s simpler response, “Just don’t crush his dick in the process.”

“I wouldn’t do that, fuck you.”

“I’m just saying, you’ve never been the most coordinated person in the world,” he taunts, “If that’s what you came here today to ask me to help you with, it’s fine.”

“Really?—I mean, okay, I know we said that’s okay, and stuff, but I didn’t know if—well I don’t know what’s on the table or not? I do want to do that with you, but I also wanted to know if we could do… more? But I didn’t want to ask for too much and make you uncomfortable! Do we need a lesson-plan of sorts, because I can make—”

“You’re doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“Stalling,” Levi tells you, “You know, how when you get all nervous and ramble, then run out of breath or things to say, then get super quiet, and let the conversation die and be awkward again.”

You throw daggers his way with your eyes, and Levi has the audacity to smirk. “Forgive me, it’s not every day I ask my best friend if I can suck his dick for practice.”

“You can,” Levi replies, a little too nonchalant for the situation at hand, “If you want. I don’t mind. As for a lesson plan, that’s weird as shit, so don’t do that.”

“Really? I can?” you question again, an ironic child-like glimmer of joy in your eyes.

Levi chuckles lowly at your enthusiasm—your appreciation is so genuine, he finds it nothing short of adorable. And oddly enough, he’s a little turned on by it, too.

“Yeah,” he nods his head shallowly, “You can.”

You still have that gleam in your eyes, but Levi can feel the hesitation creeping up on you, and offers his guidance before he loses you to a shell of yourself. He shifts over to you just a bit, loosely holding your right wrist in his grip; holding eye-contact, he carefully pulls you up to stand in front of him.

“You can start,” he says, slowly tugging on your wrist, “By getting on your knees and taking off my pants.”

By the time he’s finished speaking, you’re already kneeling in front of him, and the sight is already enough to have Levi semi-hard in his pants; an almost embarrassed flush washing over his body as he comes to terms with the fact that he’s thought about this visual more times than he cares to ever admit.

You fumble with the zipper of his jeans, pulling them, along with his boxers to pool around his ankles. Your actions are careful and calculated, but you seem comfortable—maybe not with your skills, but with Levi.

His eyes stay glued on you, when you finally hold his length with a single hand, the other resting hot on his thigh. He leans over again, this time to rest a comforting hand on the back of your neck, eager to wash away any remains of your nervous resolve.

“Start slow,” he instructs, feeling your thumb swipe along the head, “Just move your hand up and down a bit, like—ah, yeah, like that.”

You seem follow his words carefully, focusing on the way his dick jerks in your hand. Levi observes you carefully and mentally notes that while he’d have liked it, not making out with you before this was probably the right call—he’d probably have creamed his jeans before this could have begun.

“You can grip it harder,” he tells you. You listen, applying slightly more pressure to your grasp; and it makes Levi groan, short, but strangled, above you.

“Okay?” you question, the genuine concern in your voice enough to make Levi’s gaze soften.

“Yeah, that’s—you’re doing good,” he says, rubbing his thumb against the nape of your neck habitually, “Twist your hand a little when you go up, you can—fuck, okay, yeah, that, like that.”

You snap your head up to look at him when he lets a moan slip through; nothing but pure enthusiasm and satisfaction dancing in your eyes. Levi grits his teeth when you do it again, your thumb sliding over the tip when you reach the top of his dick, and, Christ, you’ve got to stop looking at him like that.

You work your way into a steady rhythm, letting Levi’s moans guide your movements. You feel him harden to full length under your touch; and when he does, you move your hand faster, twisting your wrist around the length and squeezing just a pinch harder at the tip, without instruction.

He watches through lidded eyes, using his thumb to press lightly into the back of your neck. You move your free hand from his thighs, eager to add it to the mix, but Levi freezes.

“Nuh uh,” he shakes his head.

It prompts you to stop your actions, tilt your head and look up at him, and Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so sinful. Your complete focus on him, neck craned obediently, eyes twinkling under your lashes; your position makes him want to kiss you or choke you or something in between.

“What—did I do something wrong?” you ask with wide and innocent eyes that make Levi feel bad for worrying you, yet send an erotic pulse throughout his body.

“Not at all,” he reassures you, fingers treading into the hair at your nape.

He’s setting himself up for failure, and he knows it, too—because, really, who agrees to teach a friend how to suck dick? Having you on your knees in front him, crane into his touch, and keen to all his desires, does nothing to mask the painful fire in the pit of his stomach.

It’s stupid to be this hungry, this possessive over you when he knows you come to him in hopes to learning how to please another man. But one, precious thought is enough to cloud over all of that, enough to put that sadistic smirk back on his face.

“You said you wanted to give me a blowjob, right?” he questions, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at the shallow nod of your head, “Okay. Open your mouth for me, yeah?”

He barely pushes the tip past your lips when your head dips forward, tongue peeking out to lick the very top. Levi sucks in sharp air between his teeth, relaxing into the couch when your head bobs further, enclosing the tip of his dick in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice hoarse when his hardened cock rests against the velvet wet of your tongue, “That’s it—just keep going, like that.”

He watches intensely as your head bobs onto him. It’s hot and wet and so much more than he’d imagined it would be; and he’s not too shy to admit he’s imagined this with you. He moves his hand to brush away the flyaways of your hair, smoothing them back and tangling his fingers at the back of your head. He carefully guides your movements.

It’s slow and steady, and normally, it’d take him a while to cum like this, but with the visual of having you on your knees for him, Levi can feel a faint warmth of his orgasm already beginning to bubble inside of him.

“This is okay, right?” you pull back, a thin line of spit trailing from your mouth.

“Yes, yes,” he answers immediately, unaware of his tightening grasp on your hair.

With a shy smile, you continue, taking more of him this time and carefully gauging his reactions. You move your head further down, testing your own limits, until you feel like you’re choking. You pull back again, with an embarrassed cough.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says softly, rubbing soothing circles into your neck with his fingers, “Guys can’t actually tell the difference between a regular blowjob and being deep throated, no need to choke yourself.”

“Wait, really?” you ask, resting you bum against your heels.

“You seem so surprised.”

“That’s just so… disappointing,” you crinkle your nose, “Men and porn make deep-throating seem like the end all be all of giving head.”

Levi chuckles in genuine amusement, “Well, it’s not, trust me. If any guy insists on being deep-throated just to cum, he’s a fucking liar. He’s getting off on the submission, not the actual feeling.”

“The submission?”

“Getting someone to be willing to listen to them, telling them what to do, how to please them,” he shrugs, “Makes you feel like you’re in control.”

“And that… that works?”

“Yeah,” Levi says, “But, judging by the tone of your voice, and how willing you were to suck my dick three seconds ago, I’d say the idea of being dominant doesn’t really appeal to you.”

You scrunch your nose again, “Does it appeal to you?”

Levi pauses, thinking over his answer, before giving you a simple, “Yeah. Most of the time.”

“Oh,” you hum, “I… I don’t think I’d like that.  I think I’d rather be told what to do, seeing as I don’t really know what I’m doing, anyways.”

“Ironic, considering you’ve never once listened anything I tell you do.”

“I was listening when you told me how to suck your dick,” you correct him, “You seemed to enjoy that.”

Levi pauses with a raised eyebrow. You don’t seem to back down, that matter-of-fact smirk on your face still mocking him. He leans over slowly, using his right hand to guide your head closer to him, and uses his left hand to grab your jaw between his fingers.

“You can be such a fucking brat, you know that,” he all but whispers, pursing your lips together in his hold, “Since you like listening to me so much, then shut up, and we can finish what you started.”

You blink, staring at him with a wide-eyed expression. He’s right that under any other circumstance you’d probably run your mouth off about him telling you what to do. But something about the way he knows what he wants and tells how he wants it makes you listen without an argument.

You nod, slowly wrapping your lips around the tip again, and bobbing along his length. Levi’s breath hitches when you hollow your cheeks slightly, a rough hand pressing down on the back of your neck.

“You’re really—god, okay, you’re good at this, you know,” Levi praises you, letting his right hand resume its position at the back of your neck.

If you had any doubts before about being submissive, the look on Levi’s face seemed to have wiped them away. Watching him throw his head back, his fingers gripping at your nape, his cock in your mouth—pleasing him seemed to be enough to please you, too.

“I wanna make you cum, Levi,” you voice your thoughts, letting a hand lazily jerk him off in the mean time, “Tell me what I have to do to make you cum.”

“If you keep going, I’ll cum,” he answers too quickly, a groan slipping through his words, “Trust me.”

“Come on, Levi,” you push, rolling your thumb over the slit of his dick. It makes him inhale sharply; you’re getting a little too good at that; at all of this. “Can—I mean, do you wanna cum in my mouth?”

“Shit, shit. Don’t say shit like that,” he curses, blunt nails raking and scraping at your scalp, “You don’t have to—I can just—”

“I want you to,” you tell him earnestly, “Please?”

Fuck, he was pretty fucking certain he’d told you to stop saying shit like that. Levi bites the inside of his cheek, paces himself; uses both of his hands to hold your head gently, while you use yours to wrap around his cock.

He grunts with a shake, and rolls his hips up, pushing himself further into your mouth, but not so much as to hurt you. It’s soon after that hot strophes of cum wet your tongue, and Levi lets you lazily jerk him off until you’ve milked his orgasm.

The room is silent save for his low moans and the squeaking of his thighs against the leather couch. When he’s finished, he slouches back, looking at you through hooded eyes, sweaty and panting, when you close your mouth and swallow.

You use your fingers to collect any remaining cum from his softening cock, and hum contented as you put your fingers in your mouth. Levi locks eyes with you again, cheeks flushed as you pull your digits out of your mouth, and he has to grip at his own thigh to gain the self-control to not get hard again.

You’re going to be the fucking death of him some day.

He shakes his head when you move backwards with a cute smile and pulls his boxers up, then his pants as best his can, not bothering to zip them up. When he’s done, you stand to your feet then straddle him on the couch, laughing lowly at his post-orgasm haze.

He doesn’t think twice about the way your hands clasp at the back of his neck, or the way his find their way to rest on your hips. You grab ahold of his jaw with both hands, holding his face in place. He thinks you’re going to lean in, but you don’t; just stay like that, your eyes roaming his glassy eyes.

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me all day?” he questions, lips pulled into a knowing grin.

“Can I?” your question makes him frown in confusion, “Dunno, I heard some guys don’t like that after getting head.”

“Bunch a fuckin pussies,” he grumbles, leaning forward to close the gap between your mouths. He can feel you smile into it, and mimics your grin when you begin to press short, repeated kisses against his lips.

“You’re the best, you know that?”

He laughs when you continue to press quick kisses on his lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

You kiss him on the cheek, wet and dramatic. “Love you, Levi.”

Your face is right in front of his, but he averts his gaze, a different kind go warmth spreading throughout his chest when you flash a smile at him. He lets you kiss him again, longer this time, but still slow and sweet. He likes the feeling of you resting against him, affection lingering on your tongue when you kiss him.

It’s dangerous, but he likes the way you spark a fire in him. Sweet or sinful, it makes him feel boneless, wanted, loved.

Levi leans forward, rubbing his hands up your sides, and captures your lips in another languid kiss before pulling away to peck the corner of your mouth. “Love you, too.”

And he means it of course, but if Levi thought he had it bad before, he’s in deep shit now.

[allastoredeer]

Okay, so, I was going to write this in the tags originally, but it was getting long, and from experience, if the tags go on too long it just cuts them off.

So, thoughts are going here I guess.

Firstly!

Me, genuinely confused: People think Alastor's bad ace representation because he's a serial killer???

What???? Excuse me?? 🤣

I don't know why I find that so funny, but I do. That's the silliest shit I've ever heard.

Heaven forbid aces do anything. 🙄

Secondly!

Your so right OP. Alastor is fantastic ace representation.

I agree with all the points you have above, but I'd also like to include one thing I especially love about Alastor's character and how it relates to his aceness is how fun and silly he is.

Murderous, manipulative, and immoral, for SURE.

But look at this man

He's the silliest. He's fun. He's aloof in the sense that we no fuck all about it him and his motives, but otherwise he's so openly goofy and (as one person put it) "girly pop" which is a term I personally love.

So often, you see ace characters written as stiff, unfeeling, unable to comprehend emotions, and unable to navigate certain social situations (which is why there's so many comparisons/"ace representation" in robots and/or nonorganics).

Yes, aces can be socially awkward, experience difficulty navigating certain situations, have a hard time wrapping their head around certain emotions/concepts, (for me, personally, its the whole concept about people getting "hot and bothered" when they see someone they find attractive. You mean to tell its a LITERAL thing. People actually get hot and bothered? That's not just a silly little phrase they use? Ya'll temperature actually be rising?? Fucking wild!)

However, all of the above? Literally EVERYONE experiences them. Anyone can be socially awkward, it can be difficult for anyone to navigate certain situations, and ANYONE can have a hard time wrapping their head around certain emotions and concepts (see allosexuals having a hard time wrapping their head around the idea that someone doesn't experience sexual or romantic attraction when its such a normal and natural thing for them - like how the opposite can be true for aces (let's all remember, though, asexuality IS a spectrum!)

Back to my previous point, Alastor doesn't come off as stiff, anti-social, robotic, or unfeeling in any way.

He's goofy, he's fun! He dances, he acts silly, he's dark, he's complex, has multiple platonic relationships, experiences a RANGE of emotions in the show. He's well-rounded and dynamic! He's funny and entertaining!

As an acearo, I have never felt more connected to a character! I love the relationships I have in my life, I'm a silly goofy person, I'm socially awkward at times, sure--who the fuck aint??--but I can navigate situations that make me uncomfortable. I feel so many emotions, and it's not hard for me to wrap my head around the concepts of love and sex, because really, they aren't that deep.

Human beings are complex and multi-faceted, and its that that gives concepts like these their depth.

Just because I don't feel sexual or romantic attraction doesn't mean I don't read nor write love stories. I've written smut, I've written long, plot heavy, emotion heavy, romance heavy, smutty fanfic exploring the dynamic of a ship I like. Just because I, myself, do not experience these things, doesn't mean I can't understand them.

I've never been shot by a gun before, but I know it fucking hurts. I know it'll leave trauma. I know it'll take a long time to heal. I know there will be physical therapy, medication, doctor visits, hurt, pain, and ups and downs all to along the way.

Being ace-aro doesn't mean you can't empathize, understand, or relate to what allosexuals feel and experience.

Alastor has made no implications at being uncomfortable with other people relationships or love. He doesn't know he's ace, sure, but the only time we've seen him uncomfortable with the idea of sex is in episode 1 when Angel suggested making a porno with him, and even then, he didn't seem necessarily uncomfortable, he just very firmly denounces the very suggestion ("Ha! Never going to happen.") There was also the moment in the pilot when Angel said he could suck his dick, in which we got the radio noise and him saying "No thank you!" I'd say that radio noise is the closest we've got him with displaying discomfort with sex.

He's never come off as being weirded out seeing other peoples romantic relationships (see Charlie and Vaggie). He's just...not interested. That's it.

Of course, I've seen fan art, headcanons, and fic of him being flustered and uncomfortable witnessing sexual situations (love them, always reblog), and I can totally see and understand that for his character, but as for the show itself, we haven't gotten a ton of evidence that he's viscerally uncomfortable with such things.

All of this is to say, Alastor is fantastic ace representation, he's a fun, intriguing, well-rounded, multi-faceted character who is truly entertaining to watch! He breaks all those sterotypes about aces being stiff, anti-social, unfeeling people who don't understand relationships.

Him being a serial killer is the silliest, stupidest reason to claim he's not good ace representation. Seriously, what are ya'll on?

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

I know that some aros/aces are kind of disappointed with Alastor as representation, what with him being an evil cannibalistic serial killer and all. However, I think that Alastor is not only non-problematic aroace representation, he’s actually GOOD rep. Here’s why:

1. Even if you consider Alastor a villain, there are a lot of character MORE villainous than him—often with their sexuality being part of their scumminess. For instance, Adam would be way less gross if he didn’t sexualize all the women around him, and Valentino wouldn’t be able to be nearly as harmful if he were less lustful.

2. In contrast, Alastor being aroace is portrayed *positively*, often actively humanizing him—something extremely refreshing. Rosie knowing Alastor’s sexuality when he’s unaware of it himself is a huge indicator of their friendship. Along with Alastor’s deer-in-the-headlights responses to Angel Dust’s flirting, it also shows that Alastor isn’t as all-knowing and put-together as he can seem. Plus, it’s clear that even if Alastor is manipulative towards Charlie, he’s not being predatory towards her like THAT.

3. Alastor also breaks several stereotypical aroace tropes in a way that’s nice to see. He’s not a loner. He’s very good at understanding people and navigating social interactions. He’s happy to take on a parental role. He puts his hand on people’s shoulders, gives hugs, and happily engages in partner dancing. I’ve seen some people write Alastor as being uncomfortable with physical contact, but TBH I’ve seen him give (and comfortably receive) more physical affection than most people I know.

4. Alastor lets us get the great ace version of the “Your daughter calls me daddy too,” joke. Which i think is WAY funnier than the allo version.