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galacticlamps · 2 years ago

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Something I wanted to bring up earlier in the re-watch but held onto in the hope that I’d forgotten something that would eventually make it make sense is the Doctor’s motivations or goals in Tomb - because frankly, I’m having trouble finding any.

Does he even know he’s landed on Telos? Is he here to see the tombs? I think it’s pretty clear he wants to go inside, since he’s the one who single-handedly makes that possible at every step of the way (no matter how ridiculous some of those steps are, frankly - nobody else in this archaeological expedition could notice the other doors, without his genius to guide them? seriously? these people aren’t meant to be there by accident like he is) - but he keeps warning everybody else not to go further, again for no apparent reason. Not that contradicting himself is out of character either, but now we’re looking for answers to two motivation questions - why does he want to do this, and why doesn’t he want anyone else to know? And I don’t really feel like the serial offers satisfying reasoning for either.

Even his fears & suspicions (in theory, things that might give us an indication of what he hopes to achieve himself in spite of them) are all over the place - when Haydon’s killed in the weapons testing room, the Doctor is the only one not convinced it was a real live Cyberman, and spends the whole scene defending the sensible explanation - and yet as soon as they leave the room and find out the rocket’s been sabotaged, the Doctor now insists to Captain Hopper (with virtually the same certainty we just saw him use to disprove the existence of an alien menace hunting them) that it may well have been a ‘what’ instead of a ‘who’ that’s responsible for trapping them here. And later, when Kaftan closes the hatch on them in the tombs, Viner - the nervous wreck character who we’re inclined to dismiss as overreacting - is the one to immediately & correctly accuse the people upstairs, while the Doctor’s still on his vague, misdirected ‘it could be someone else’ thing - even though seconds later, he calls everyone’s attention to how unbothered Kleig is. He never seems to receive additional information in these moments when he changes his mind about what he’s suspecting, so it feels less like the Doctor figuring things out and making deductions, and more like lines being shoved in his mouth to lend a vague air of uncertainty and mystery to what’s going on, while also carrying us to whatever needs to happen next in the ‘plot.’

To his credit (I guess?) he is suspicious of the Obviously Suspicious characters too, right from the start - but despite later telling Jamie he needed to find out what Kleig was up to (which is the closest we get to an explanation for any of his actions at any point) absolutely nothing is accomplished by the Doctor being onto them from the start - partially because he himself keeps getting misdirected vacillating between believing there are/are not any other threats present, but also because he outwardly antagonizes them while subtly helping them - flipping the correct switches behind their backs and insulting their intelligence to their faces. He’s play-acting, which is typical of him, but there’s no logic to when, why, or how he chooses to do so, because rather than skate under the radar while observing the villains quietly and forming his own conclusions, he marks himself out as an enemy of theirs before they even get serious about their plan, even though he’s actively helping them put it in action.

There’s even an almost brilliant bit (I want to like it so much! but giving it full credit just feels undeserved) when they first climb down to the tombs and Jamie says “you obviously knew what to expect” to the party re: the anoraks, but he & the others wearing them aren’t in shot - the Doctor is, faring better than any of them in the cloak he brought with him from the Tardis and had awkwardly draped over his shoulder in his first scene outside the tomb doors. You could almost make the argument he’d planned getting this far, all along (and headcanon wise, you still could, if you wanted) - but there’s no getting around the fact that the actual story contained in these episodes does absolutely nothing with that implication, if it’s meant to be there at all.

It’s like a pile of Doctorish behaviors - some posturing and trickery, a bit of dazzlingly advanced scientific knowledge, a couple of clever conclusions and a few jokes sprinkled in among ominous warnings - but it’s all scrambled together with little regard for the picture it paints taken as a whole. And maybe I seem like I’m focusing too hard on it or holding it to a standard it’s not meant for, and that might be true to some extent (although I tend to argue that most of these serials are better than people give them credit for, not worse) but the thing is, in Tomb, all of these actions have a spotlight shone on them - the Doctor’s warnings are the final ominous line in a scene, shot in closeup with a sound effect following it before we cut to a different scene - or he hits the switches that make the hatch open and everyone gives Kleig the credit, so Jamie’s given the line “but Doctor, you--” until the Doctor hushes him, to draw the audience’s attention to both the fact that the Doctor is indeed responsible for Kleig’s success and unwilling to have the rest of the group notice that. The script treats things like this as though they are noteworthy and goes out of its way to make sure we recognize that the Doctor knows more than he says and sometimes means the exact opposite of what he tells other people - only to do nothing with it. Part of me’s inclined to call this an over-use of Red Herrings, but I’m not even sure the term really fits in this case? After all, that would imply there’s a purposeful misdirection happening, someone in- or out-of- universe trying to trick either the audience or other characters into believing one thing before a reveal of the opposite. But these elements are so inconsistent, they really don’t convince us of anything in particular, they just get us from point A to point B and from point B to point C & seem to hope we don’t notice whether the trip from A to C makes sense taken all together. And I think that much can be said of a lot of the serial, honestly, but with the Doctor’s actions specifically it’s not just the narrative/framing device that’s strange, but his in-universe actions as well, making the lack of a clear motivation - some goal that he might, theoretically wish to use Red Herrings to obscure - even more frustrating. In this case it’s not just a matter of how the story’s told, it’s actually what he’s doing and saying to these people, and it’s useless.

I can’t say the Doctor’s the only character the script does this to, but I definitely think he’s the one it’s the biggest problem for. Not only is he the main character, the one the audience knows the best & is used to understanding the goals of the best, this is also a terrible point in the series at which to run into this problem with him. Say what you want about Two, but he’s not made out to be as mysterious & inherently suspicious as a lot of later Doctors are, and without retconning that element of the Doctor’s personality and backdating it completely here, there’s no explanation available to a fan watching this in the 60s as to why he’s doing what he’s doing. And coming right after Evil (of all things!) where the audience always knew what he was trying to accomplish even when the other characters in the serial couldn’t be sure about trusting him, his motivations feel especially weak in Tomb, and they just don’t hold up to the same level of scrutiny or analysis they usually do. Two’s certainly capable of causing chaos, double crossing, manipulating people into doing one thing by ostensibly attempting to get them to do another - but here it just feels like replicating those behaviors directionlessly.

Of course, once the Cybermen show up and become the main threat, this issue pretty much disappears, since it becomes clear he wishes to stop them (no matter how many foolish mistakes are made along the way) - but they don’t finish defrosting until the end of Episode 2, and in a 4-part serial, having the Doctor’s actions be so confused for half of it is a pretty big barrier to enjoying it, especially since that confusion isn’t really part of or acknowledged by the plot.

#ugh this is more rant than argument sorry #second doctor #tomb of the cybermen #i do wonder if some nuwho fans watch tomb and dont see any issue with this part tbh #if they're like oh that's just the doctor they're ancient and out of touch they do risky things for the hell of it and never explain lol #but that really wasn't a level of quirky chaos troughton's doctor was at yet #not that he might not do something like that but it wasn't the sort of thing the show would take for granted at this point #like how one gets shit from his companions for making them explore skaro on false pretenses #there usually ARE pretenses at this point in time #and btw i fully understand that you could make up explanations for all of this if you had to - say if you were writing a fic or something #but a) that still feels like reading something into a text that isn't present in it - reaching conclusions that are conspicuously absent #and b) you'd have to want to & i have trouble being motivated to think critically about a thing that doesn't care if it makes sense itself

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simpingwriter · 2 years ago

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Cal Kestis x Kyra Yarmot

'In the Name of Love' pt.10

Said emotional distress incoming :D

And someone might get fucking stabbed, not in this part yet but yeah-

I wasted so many – way too many – braincells of trying not to cry onto my phone that I am literally a walking, barely breathing shitpost on my Discord rn–

Enjoy! :)

Word Count: approx. 2.928 Words

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Your first reaction was to not just run, you flew away without another warning. You ignored the voice of his shouting your name, trying to scrub your mind from what you just had to witness.

So when you returned, visibly shaken, the attention on your findings out there was huge. Mostly because you didn't tell them about what you saw.

You told them about nothing.

Deafening silence filled the Mantis when they started to realize that you wouldn't answer any of their questions, not even when Greez asked how you made it through the Hail, if you had any trouble. The hail wasn't even something you noticed you flew through, melted ice in your hair and on your clothes the only indication…all you had in front of you was the burning yellow that replaced the green ones you loved so much.

Was this really happening? Did Cal…was this really Cal on that ship…or did you imagine that, just to have some bizarre certainty on his whereabouts? In that case, your mind was awfully cruel to make some Inquisitor appear like your Cal.

But unfortunately, you had a hunch…this wasn't just your imagination, a coping mechanism to say. On the inside you knew it had to have been Cal. Alone from the all too familiar voice, that so desperately tried to get your far far away attention back there.

After that day, you spent day and night thinking about his reasons…what was…what was such a shock to him that it coerced him into joining the enemies!? The very people that killed and enslaved your kind, that killed the Jedi or are hunting them and the remaining Rebellion of the Republic down!

It caused you to become less and less...and less...talkative in just a week worth of rotations, crying quietly to yourself in the shower or in bed became an old, quite familiar routine as you had your old nightmares return, worse and more vivid than ever before.

So you gave up on sleep for the most part.

Instead, you threw yourself into one dangerous mission after another, of course given to you by none other than Cere. They mildly took your mind off the nagging and consistent itching of the knowledge that currently, somewhere in this huge Galaxy was Cal, your lover…being training to become your ultimate Enemy.

You had heard of the training they forced Inquisitors under if they weren't willing from the beginning, which most of them obviously weren't. Like Trilla.

Cal would have to endure the same mental torture as her, conditioning, brain washing…he would turn into the same mental disaster as her.

Everyday these horrible, sometimes gory, images of him strapped tightly against a cold metal chair returned, one more dark than the last. Some made him scream his throat bloody against the gag they would wrap against his mouth. It was virtually useless against the noises he made, never had you imagined a mere human could sound like that. Others had his brain fried to a point he drooled like a toddler, eyes unfocused and still the yellow – the burned-into-your-brain-yellow – irises.

It has been now nearly 47 rotations into your own personal inner torture…the made up screams of the redhead haunting your "sleep" in the same way the screams of your old Clones haunted you. Their last words were nothing but gurgles, their throats filling with blood...

Or his, Din's, last words.

"Never let anyone stand in the way of your goals and dreams, kid…and even if you're not a Mandalorian, just like Grogu and the Rest: This is the way...your way."

This is the way…

But was your way worth the pain and suffering?

As an awful routine by now, you stood up quietly from your bed, eyeing the cold, empty bed on the opposite side. The black partition that formerly kept you from seeing it at this angle had been ripped apart during an attempt to hopefully ease the pain ripping you apart. That's what you at least tried to tell yourself.

BD had also turned more quiet over the months, but not mute, like you technically. The only times he really talked with anybody was when you were around, something Merrin even pointed out two weeks ago. You didn't acknowledge it, too tired to actually care about such trivial mentions and the implications they could potentially hold.

'Good Morning, Kyra…I heard you cry again in the night...' If it wasn't so sad in sentiment, you would've laughed and shook your head at BD…he still noticed, even after the 46th night of the same events? But in the end, you realized it was simply because BD cared…he at least still did, he didn't give when his questions returned no answers. BD was just happy to still have you, even now Cal was gone.

In the first weeks of your refusal to verbally reply to the rest of the Mantis Crew, they too had been worried, even Cere, they tried to find ways to get you to talk to them. Tried to even crack Jokes!...they couldn't have possibly known but every Joke felt more and more tasteless to you, a scowl behind your mostly neutral or somewhat negative expressions. They joked about whatever kind of banthashit…while Cal was most certainly getting everything that made Cal himself erased. Burned out of him like it was a difficult stain in an old pan…

But after a certain point…they stopped caring, all of them.

Every once in a while, you were happy they no longer tried to force some trivial and arbitrary words from you and on other days you wondered if they really cared about you either. Or if they would start telling jokes as well when you're the one being held somewhere and getting your brain fried to next cycle's tomorrow…

Merrin, of all who you thought had actually become a good friend in those earlier three months, even she stopped trying to make you talk to her after she noticed you wouldn't speak with her anymore…

So now, you're getting ready for the next mission on the next planet, like clockwork by now. Each day a new one, each one not less dangerous. Actually, more dangerous. Like Cere slowly noticed she could send you into absolutely anything about now – probably even a suicide mission but unfortunately she then would've both her viable Jedi – you would have to verbally start complaining and protest her for her to stop planning such life threatening missions. You had the terrible feeling in your stomach that she knew that. She used your abilities with that in mind…

Cal and you together usually told her if you thought something was too risky. It forced her to replan and then show you once more till you two or just one of you sometimes agreed to it being not too horrible. Cere was 100% capable of bringing up good plans as well, it did feel like she didn't want to spend that much time anymore though.

Now, even restocking the Mantis' Pantry became risky, making even you break a sweat at some points until today.

BD one day pulled you aside, shortly before you went into the next one headfirst. Anything to not hear his potentially real screams. Anything to not remember what he got himself into by something he must've witnessed, something that broke his beliefs...

'Kyra, you can't just keep going like that! You're not immortal, you're not indestructible! She's using you like some kind of slave!'

That word.

Slave.

When he told you his opinion, the fact that he, as a Droid, saw you being treated like a slave to get her closer to her seemingly endless mission's goal. It coerced the first different to usual reaction from you since Cal disappeared. It was…realization. But your reaction was too mild, in BD's optics. He expected you to get at least a bit angry, not to just...take that fact and just live along with it! Not after what your kind went through! That was the first time you also witnessed BD actually becoming angry, not the pouty childish kind either.

But you no longer had the energy left to waste on showing any up front strong emotions, reserving that small bit of energy that you somehow recharged by minimal eye rest at night – and endlessly re-viewing Cal's last message – to not get caught lacking during the missions.

Natural surprise and shock were the furthest you came usually.

Unfortunately the planet you had to go to, you had to leave the Mantis before it landed, that way it reduced the danger of being spotted a bit. But it was during a storm, Cere of course was under the assumption that the mission was under heavy time pressure, like usually – not even letting you have enough time anymore to admire the landscape with exhausted and hurried glances left and right – meaning you couldn't wait out the storm front.

The difference of pressure immediately forced the outside air into the ship once the door had been lowered, resulting in you having to squint and block the cutting gusts from your face to even make out your supposed landing spot.

An industrial town below the storm clouds, shown to you on your wrist comm. It was a gift from Cal, but it was too new to catch the frequency the Mantis is on anymore, so you had never been able to use it that much. That way it looked still almost pristine against your old bulky normal comm link.

But the map worked quite well on it.

"Okay, you know what you're supposed to do. Somewhere in this town there is supposedly a force sensitive child, under secret identity and unaware adoptive parents. If we can believe that insider from our Informant…"

A force sensitive child, just like that? You still doubted that, even after reading the note they slipped into your hands back in that dusty and musty Cantina on Jakku. It sounded too good to be true but Cere immediately jumped onto the opportunity, absolutely blinded by the idea of a potential new Jedi to train. After all, it wasn't her possibly getting ambushed if said Informant was luring you into a trap.

You nod, waiting for BD to join you on your back, something that gives you once more flashbacks to Cal. BD was supposed to sit on his back, he was supposed to be his companion. Now you have to suffice, knowing you're never going to be able to replace Cal for him. And you didn't want to either...

His owner wouldn't no longer be the same at this point, probably even trained to either destroy BD or to extract any useful information left on him.

You wouldn't even have batted an eye at the mod on the ground, focused on trying to not get detected by Security Droids that roamed a Droid Wrecking Yard you had been in for a mission. But BD actually made you look at it, he wanted you to install it on him in case he ever needed to defend himself.

Odd enough, Cere didn't stop BD from being on your back during flight anymore. You had recently installed a small new mod you found, formerly constructed to be used on old Republic era Delivery Droids. It was a non-lethal shock module that the Droids can use in cases of self defense, since Delivery Droids were often also ambushed and got their Deliveries stolen.

Something he never had brought up as a possible problem or even fear of his before, but you didn't question it either way, for the same reasons as before.

The shock mod might be the reason Cere no longer really wanted to grab after BD, since he once ever so proudly showed off his new "skill" to the crew after you haphazardly added it during another sleepless night. Cal was a thousand times better at fixing BD or adding new mods for his liking, but in…in a time of unexpected need, you could also do such jobs. Cal had shown you enough basic things about BD's maintenance, giving you enough knowledge to keep the little Droid running.

The wind whipped against your hardened skin, cold currents giving you uncomfortable shivers as you began to break through the cloud barrier, beginning to slowly break your fall with your wings, unfurling them from their rested position on your back. With a small passenger like BD – who couldn't even hold on that tightly, even if he wanted to, which he did – you couldn't just do it in one swift go like you're used to doing it, the near instant deceleration could – and has already – catapult him right off of you.

The sky no longer felt as relaxing as it once did, you noted a while ago as well. Flying took an unusual amount of energy from you by now, but maybe you only realize that now because you didn't have as much left to waste as two months ago. You basically constantly run on your own inner emergency generator, adrenaline on missions keeping you from falling over, drained of everything you had to spare.

And in the night it was the panic and the fear you no longer managed to show during the waking hours, that kept you awake and running. Against your will partially, but at least you didn't have to face your nightmares that way.

You're just about to reach the last mile off ground when you suddenly notice the few goosebumps and hairs you could have on your scaled body stand on end, like early stage frostbite. In the first moment you were about to question what your body even dared to react to. Then it hit you.

His scent.

It was all over the town below you.

Cal…Cal was on the planet or at least has been in the last few hours, it was still strong enough for you to take notice of it even subconsciously all the way up here.

Him being here, not on some Imperial Ship floating in where-ever-the-kark-Space, it had to mean one thing…that he was finished with getting conditioned.

Meaning, even if you did find Cal by following the trail he clearly unknowingly leaves wherever he went and left, he would no longer be the Cal you once knew. The Cal you love. For you, it could never turn into past tense – despite the atrocities he could by now be causing on the daily – but you knew he probably would no longer love you back...

They, without doubt, must have replaced these thoughts with nothing but hate for you, blinded his once free thoughts. So he could become a better hunter for them.

Despite that knowledge, something that seemed so obvious to you at the moment, you deviate from your supposed landing spot, letting your instincts guide you, continuing to glide low above ground as they follow an apparently very clear path. All the way into the mountains, up a fresh water stream.

The air was a lot clearer and fresher in the mountains of this planet than above the towns and settlements, known for producing Mechanical parts. So for the first time in a too long while, you actually had a thought of actual peace in your overstuffed cranium. A rare occasion of clarity...

And that was what made you suddenly stop in your instinctual path.

'Is everything alright, Kyra?'

Nothing was alright, BD…and you still couldn't find your past inner strength to actively tell him that. So you shake your head. You didn't lie, not to him. Just like Cal was, was he also the last true current in your life, your pathetic, wasted life that seemed to crack and break more and more with every year spent in the Galaxy.

You…you didn't train all your life...just to become the mindless and voiceless slave of a woman that only saw her mission…

And yet here you are, letting yourself get kicked around…because what else could you do? Run away? In your seriously lousy condition and stronger than ever nightmares, you'd become sick and soon after…turn up dead, not waking up one morning.

Then, even the last one of your kind would have died, having left nothing of worth or legacy but failure to tell about on her path that led up to this miserable end. Born a slave…died a slave.

'You're crying again...'

So you were, what of it…

'You sensed Cal, didn't you?' Not sensed. Smelled. Far more personal…far more accurate than any kind of ability to sense the Force in an individual.

But BD reminded you of your reason you're even here in this mountain range. Cal.

Even if…even if was no longer himself, you…you had to at least see him one last time! Even if he would most likely attack you…you had to see him.

You had to see the reason why you kept going, even after you were at rock bottom five months ago…

Your mate. Your everything.

Even if that everything had been changed and probably killed, replaced by a stranger that looked like him, sounded like him…smelled like him.

With every covered mile, the trail got stronger and so did your sudden fear. While you did want to see him again and you alreasy expected the worst…you weren't sure you still had the actual energy left for an encounter with him, face to face.

Yet with the knowledge that he would most likely not stay here for long, you had to act, fear or not.

'There. I can see it!'

BD saw it before you did, the Ship was just about to land as well. Inside it was the person you ran away from about two and a half months ago, too shocked about his sudden…change…to stay even a second longer.

But now…you can't immediately run from your fears again.

Just one last time…

You carefully circled the ship from above, trying to prepare yourself for what was to come, hearing BD encouragingly beep at you. Like he could feel your tenseness. Even your beating wings felt stiffer than usual as you finally started to descend.

This time, there were no Stormtroopers outside yet since the ship obviously landed just now, leaving your trembling self all alone without a chance to let off "steam"...or anxiety, much more likely in your case. Hot steam produced by your lungs left the side of your mouth and nostrils as you got more uneasy by the second. It's feeling wrong again. Like something was off again, like back then.

And your senses have never been wrong before!

You're just about to abort your "mission" to return to the banthashit Cere wanted you to do for her today, hoping they mysteriously hadn't noticed you yet. But the hiss of the huge, familiar door opening once again froze you to the spot.

Two and half months ago you were in the same spot. Back then, he hadn't been reconditioned yet. Back then, he still had been your Cal. Back then he wouldn't have attacked you.

When you saw how he looked now though, all these doubts you had…

They got stronger.

He was dressed in black, red lines on the sides of his Imperial suit, a chest plate on top of everything. His old brown boots had been replaced by cold looking black leather boots. At the side of his new, unfamiliar pants he had a lightsaber, the only thing familiar about his appearance. But it wasn't his lightsaber anymore, this one was black and clearly a double bladed one by the length of it…

They had changed him…so much…

And yet, from the first glance you had stolen at his face, he still…he still looked like the day you lost him, minus the green eyes. He still had his lovely freckles, the scars across his face and the apparently still slightly chapped lips.

You're too caught off guard with his seeing that his overall appearance didn't change, to even register that he was coming closer.

Coming closer way too quickly–

Please…any way…but not by his hands!

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#star wars fallen order #cal kestis #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x oc #fallen order cal kestis

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manias-wordcount · 3 years ago

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Behind Closed Doors (Tooru Oikawa)

Kinktober 2021 Day Twenty-Seven: Face-sitting

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

Outside these doors, practice is in full swing.

It’s muffled from where you’re standing, but you can hear it all. Loud Argentinian music plays over the speakers, signifying a more lax practice after their recent winning streak. Outside you hear the boys- laughing, talking, taking practice swings, and passing back and forth to each other. You can even hear the squeaks of volleyball shoes across the gym floor and the dull thud of a setter’s ball being set up against a wall over and over and over again. Outside these doors, everyone is fulfilling their position. The players, the other managers, and team assistants- they’re all doing their job. So what are you two doing?

Well-

The sound of the locker room door slamming shut causes you to yelp out in alarm before peaking out from your hiding place. Your hands play with themselves in the pocket of your hoodie- the team’s logo and colors plastered all over it. This is the player’s locker room. The boy's locker room. If anyone saw you here, they would think you’re a pervert or a lovesick fangirl who had no boundaries. Then again, calling you some type of pervert might not be so far off considering what you just agreed to let him do to you.

You slowly bring your head from around the corner, moving carefully so you’re not caught by someone who decided to wander in. In an instant, you’re met with a face full of Tooru Oikawa- resident setter and pretty boy of your dreams. If it weren’t for the fact that your mind was still forcing you to try to be as discreet as possible, you would have yelped again at his sudden appearance.

The brunette smiles down at you mischievously before grabbing your arm pulling you away from where you once were. You look up at him curiously, a nervous look on your face as you await what he’s about to tell you. He doesn’t make you move far- just a few paces away and before roughly pushing you up against one of the lockers. You gasp out, his roughness catching you off guard, but the surprises don’t end there.

“The guys said we have about six minutes,” He murmurs to you, his smirk growing as your eyes widen. He sinks to his knees in front of you, hands prying open your thighs. He leans forward, and before you know it, his head is ducking under your little white tennis skirt,and his teeth are tugging at your panties. It’s incredibly erotic watching him move so fast yet so sensually as he pulls your underwear down your legs. He moves so confidently- patting your leg when he wants you to step out of your shoes and lift your leg up so he can pull your panties off of you and tuck them into his pocket. You know he’s had practice doing that. But how much, you’re never know. Especially with that look he flashes when he’s all done with his first task. “Best make them count, right?”

You nod at him silently, and he takes it as the go-ahead to grab hold of one of your legs and hike it over his shoulder. His head is back to being tucked under your skirt with only the small bits of his light brown hair being the biggest indicator of who’s underneath you. Still, despite virtually knowing what he was going to do (he had whispered it a thousand times to you a couple days ago when you both were drunk, grinding on each other, and celebrating the last win at some high-end bar you couldn’t remember the name of) you couldn’t help but squeak he’s suddenly face to face with your exposed pussy.

“Well,” You shudder as you feel his soft breath fan against your cunt. You know you’re practically dripping down there. You don’t need to lift up your skirt to find out. Still, it’s more than embarrassing to have the hottest setter- no, the hottest player on your team get on his knees for you and watch as your pussy pulsates with need. “Itadakimasu~”

His mouth attaches to your cunt in seconds- his tongue darting out to lap at your sex. You throw your head back, breathing deeply as he dives into you. His hands are warm against your thighs, his thumbs stroking small circles into your skin. It’s been too long. It’s been way too long since he promised all those dirty little things that he would do to you if he just had you, an empty room, and time. And now he does. Just a few minutes and the locker room, but he’s making do.

“Mmmm...mmm,” You moaned softly, as his hands pulled your body impossibly closer. In one swift movement, Tooru hooks an arm around your other leg and throws it over his other shoulder. You’re damn near tears when he suddenly stands with your legs up- your backside sliding up the locker as he supports your full weight with his shoulders and holds you up to his full height. “Ah~!”

You’re up high. It’s an odd sensation, but somehow it adds to the feeling. The new vantage point has you feeling all sorts of ways. It’s hard to see him from this angle- he’s practically found a home between your legs and up your skirt. But you just know he’s there. Being up so high makes you hyper-aware of everything. His muscular arms, the mess of clothes on the floor, the fabric of your skirt brushing against your thighs. It’s too much. It’s way too much.

“Good girl, good fucking girl...” He groans out deeply, his voice causing you to shiver, and he speaks directly into your skin before diving back into your pussy. You whimper, hands reaching out and gripping fistfuls of his hair as he forces you to ride his face. You’re so compliant for him. Nowhere to run, nothing to do but to sit back and enjoy his sloppy tongue movements against your pussy. He’s strong- you can feel him supporting you so easily, and your mind wanders to just how easily he can throw you around and fold you in half and-

Your breath catches again as your hips jerk against his mouth. Your mind is running rampant as the heat in your stomach spreads all throughout your body. He responds to your neediness easily by alternating between sucking on your clit and blowing on it. His hands massage your backside, taking fistfuls of your ass and squeezing tight- urging you to do whatever you want to chase your high.

You don’t have a lot of time left- you can tell by the urgency in the way his tongue flicks against the most sensitive part of your body. But every little groan he makes into your body sends you into a mind-blowing bout of pleasure that allows you to forget about the time limit. Forget about the fact that you’re sitting on his face in a locker room, of all things. Forget about everything but him.

So that’s what you do.

In your mind, it’s not the locker room. In your mind, it’s the club. The lights are dimmed low and colorful. The music is loud, and your body feels like it’s floating. There are hands-on your hips- Tooru’s hands are on your hips. Your drunken mind is all too excited to grind against him. And his drunken mind was all too excited to tell you all that he wanted to do to you once he got the chance.

All he wanted to do to you behind closed doors.

#tooru oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haiykuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#x reader #xreader #Smut #kinktober

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pens-swords-stuff · 2 years ago

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Just dumping some of my thoughts here because I don't have anywhere else to put them. Not looking for advice, just looking to vent, scream into the void and maybe some support if anyone is willing.

Trigger warnings: Death of a family member, grief, hospitals, COVID, proceed with caution.

Reblogs are disabled to keep this on my blog, but comments are welcome.

I actually found out that my grandmother was dying yesterday. It went very quickly from "she's going to stay in the hospital for a bit" to "she only has about 5-6 hours left before her death."

As a lot of you know, my family is in Japan whereas me, my parents, and one of my uncles live in America so we weren't able to be there. My aunt and her family were there though, so they video chatted me and my parents so that we could see her again and talk for one last time. It was a pretty weird sight to see multiple people holding up phones to her while she was in the hospital bed. She looked so frail and weak, and she must've been in a lot of pain — they were holding off on giving her painkillers for a bit because she probably wouldn't wake up afterwards.

My aunt had to really encourage her to open her eyes to see us, but when she finally managed to, she saw me and the first thing she immediately said was how pretty I was. And that might be the very last thing she ever says to me.

The entire family was able to be there, half in-person and half virtually. At one point I was video chatting another family member and holding up my phone to my mom's phone so she could also be with my grandmother through two layers of videochat.

It turns out that my grandmother had cancer, and she didn't tell anyone that she wasn't feeling well because she didn't want to bother or worry anyone.

We were told at the time that once they gave her painkillers, she wouldn't wake up. She'd pass peacefully in her sleep, without being in pain. They didn't know when, but estimated it to be around 5 to 6 hours, depending on how much strength she had left.

Well, apparently she had a lot of strength left because she made it through the night and woke up. Her blood pressure was back to normal levels, and she's awake and alert and she pulled through.

I can't emphasize enough how amazing of a woman my grandmother is. She's in her mid-nineties, and she's never experienced any of the typical aches and pains of aging. She's never experienced hip or back pain, she kept really active as much as she could (she lived on the 4th floor of an apartment building that she owned well into her 70s. The stairs were ridiculously steep and there was no railing and it's enough to make any adult wheeze!), and she was always finding ways of stimulating her brain so that she could stay mentally sharp. She's also dainty and elegant like a princess, and loves dressing nicely.

This actually happened just yesterday — the day before my licensing exam. And I was so fucking scared of failing because I couldn't make my grandmother the reason I failed.

And I passed! I actually scored amazingly well despite the circumstances, but it's really hard to be happy about it when so much going on. Moving on with being licensed, transitioning into a new job... It feels really weird with everything happening right now. I've always been avoidant and anxious about it, but this is making it ten times worse and all I want to do is hide in my bed to keep everything away. Because if I don't leave my bed, the day can't start, and if the day doesn't start, nothing bad can happen.

(Despite what I might sound like right now, I am actually very functional and am handling this well, don't worry. Staying in bed past noon when I don't have anything to do that day is one of my indicators that I'm feeling really anxious. And these days my internal clock wakes me up really early, so even after procrastinating leaving my bed I actually get on with my day around 11 or sometimes 12, and I'm currently unemployed so it's not like I'm missing anything important. I'm doing fine. This is just my rambly thought dump so everything sounds much more dysfunctional than it actually is.)

Right now we're in a very weird stasis of grandma is still alive, but we don't know what's actually happening. Because of COVID, no one is allowed to visit her, and the hospital is apparently short staffed so we're not getting a ton of updates. My cousin managed to talk to a nurse by chance when she was delivering some clothes and toothbrushes for my grandma, and as far as we know right now, she's alert and she's stable. But it also doesn't seem like there's a huge chance for recovery? I don't know the details but they're giving her painkillers, and are draining... something periodically, but it doesn't sound like there's any treatment happening.

I guess we're just waiting to see how long she holds on before she's ready to pass?

Part of me thinks that she'll be okay in the end. I really, truly thought that she would easily live past 100. Other part of me is already grieving.

It's so frustrating, because there's literally no point for me and my parents to go to Japan right now. Even if we did get there, we wouldn't be able to visit. My aunt, uncle and cousin were only allowed in yesterday because they really thought that this was going to be the end.

And what's even more frustrating is that I haven't seen my family in Japan for five years. We had tickets to go to Japan in May of 2020. COVID stole away at least two summers that we would've been able to spend with my grandmother. And what makes it worse is that these were my last summer breaks. I was in grad school. I had the summer off; I wasn't working or taking classes, I was legitimately on summer break and goofing around doing nothing productive.

But now, I'm about to start my career! I accepted a job that I was really excited about and I'm going to start really soon. And it's going to be really hard to take extended time off! (I'm already negotiating a couple weeks off in August for a nonrefundable trip, which will make it even more difficult to ask for more time off in the first 3 months of my employment if something happens). It was my last chance to easily spend a month or three in Japan, and the pandemic took that away. Even if I hopped onto a plane right now and went to Japan, I still might never see my grandmother again because visitors aren't allowed due to COVID.

Also it's a busy time for flights to Japan right now because everyone goes in the summer; there are almost no seats left and the ones that are, are ridiculously expensive. My family doesn't have a ton of money; it would be worth it, but it would also be really difficult to make ends meet if we bought tickets. One ticket would be tight but manageable, but not three — and if we're sending anyone, it would be my father, since it's his mother.

it just really, seriously sucks right now and the timing of everything going down just makes it worse on multiple levels because it's giving me a lot of "what ifs" and "if onlys".

The emotional roller coaster has been wild over the past 36 hours, and I just want to get off.

#delete later

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qyllenhaal · 3 years ago

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Good Wives Club [2]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.2k.

Spin-off to American Pie

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.

Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.

A/N: If anyone wants to be added to future tag list just let me know!

Y/n woke up at 5am with a dry mouth and her head spinning. Her night has been plagued with restlessness and she couldn't stay still. When she did fall asleep, it was for small periods of time. Each time she woke up she was not aware of where she was for the first five seconds, panic almost setting in before she registered the sound of her husband snoring.

The end of her irregular sleep cycle ended because she saw the hallway light was on. She sighed when realized it must be time for her husband to get ready for work. She virtually got no sleep and she'll probably be tired for the rest of the day.

She gets up from their creaky bed and starts walking down the hallway. It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she slowly plods down the hallway. She follows the light to the bathroom where she can hear her husband getting ready for work. On the days he goes in this early Y/n is relieved that she doesn't have to get up and cook breakfast for him.

The door is cracked but she opens it to find him inside. She situates herself in the doorway, watching him shave his face through the mirror.

"Good morning," he spoke with a scratchy voice. Even though Y/n didn't marry Llewellyn for love, she's still attracted to him and likes his company most of the time. She feels an ache inside of her that wants him to take her, but after running into Lee last night she's afraid she won't be able to get Lee's face out of her mind while beneath her husband.

"Good morning. Going in early?"

"Yep. Dad wants to do inventory today since he put it off last week."

"Oh okay," she accepts quietly, ready to leave her husband alone so he can get ready in peace.

However he asks her a surprising question, "hey, did you enjoy last night?"

"Uh, it was fine I guess. Did you?" Her hope is that he at least enjoyed himself somewhat.

"You know I don't like that super fancy stuff like that, but I have to eat crow; it wasn't all that bad and Bodecker's not as bad as I thought. He's kind of a funny guy. I still think he's not as hard on crime like everyone claims he is, but personally, he's not that bad. Florence was nice too. She invited us to dinner on Wednesday night, apparently that's the only night Lee has off. I told her we'd be able to join them."

The turn of events was shocking. Y/n couldn't believe her ears and she thought maybe she indeed was still asleep. Lou was not fond of many people and his only "friends" were his two brothers so him warming up to Lee and Florence left her speechless. So speechless that she didn't register the fact that he accepted a dinner invite for them.

"What?"

"What do you mean ‘what’? You dragged me to that dinner last night and wanted me to be nice, and now you're confused when I do just that?"

"I-I'm not confused...just shocked," she admits truthfully, "I can't believe you want to go to someone’s house who isn't your mother house for dinner ��are you sure you want to go?"

"We're going Y/n."

His tone of voice indicates that the conversation is done and over with and the decision has been made. Y/n didn't even get to contest his decision but Lou can tell when Y/n is in a defiant mood. Her folding her arms and walking away was confirmation for him. She stalks her way back to the bedroom where she takes to hiding under the covers.

Lee and Lou under the same roof — it makes her stomach churn just to think about it. They're wildly different from each other but the thing she hates about them is what they have in common.

All she can hope is that this nightmare ends and she wakes back up to a life without Lee's ghost lingering around.

She decided to go with a floral dress again. She really wanted to take out the checkerboard dress that made her legs look good and showed off her arms, but Lou would have made her change before she had the chance to step out of the house. The floral print is dizzying, but it's the kind of dress that Lou likes to see her wear.

It's just a small dinner at the Bodecker's house but Y/n opts for kitten heels instead of sensible flats. She feels obligated to look her best despite there being less people to dress for. She's never been alone with Florence save for that day at the grocery store. Florence is always dressed to the 10's and Y/n needs to look just as good, if not better. She claims to hate Lee, but it would be so satisfying if she caught Lee ogling her breasts.

"Are you ready?"

Y/n thought Lou was too dressed up for a home dinner of four. He wore a pinstriped suit and those nice leather shoes he bought himself around the holidays.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighs in an attempt to let off some steam.

It was a shorter drive than Y/n expected. Florence hadn't disclosed where she lived before, but Brewer Heights wasn't that for them to live at a distance. The sun was nearly dipped over the horizon and the remaining light that hits their house makes it look like a model home. Everything little aspect and detail Y/n was going to compare herself too. She lives in a nice house, but Florence lives in a nicer house. It tears her up knowing she has the ultimate upper hand over Florence in the form of her own husband and she can't even act upon it. She would royally fuck up her life and their lives too if she decide to let her jealousy get the best of her.

As she walks up their stairs as another man's wife, she accepts that she is jealous. She's always been jealous of Florence even when she didn't know her name. What made her so worthy of all of these things? Lee used to act like he hates the woman so she must be a bitch behind closed doors. It wouldn't be surprising if she is because most people in this town will smile in your face and then gossip about you a minute later.

Lou knocks on the door and only a second later Florence is opening the door with a big smile on her face and Lee right next to her. He wore his police uniform without the jacket while Florence looked like a Lilly Pulitzer catalog girl.

It only took one millisecond of their eyes locking together for Y/n to feel the electricity between her and Lee. She drags her eyes away from his, but she can bet that he has a smirk on her face. He always liked to see her squirm; in a good and bad way.

"Y/n, Llewellyn! I'm so glad you could make it! Why don't you come on in," Florence steps to the side, nudging Lee over with her, to make way for Y/n and her husband.

Her eyes scan over every inch of their house. It's warm, cozy, and oddly comforting. Everything little thing was in its place; perfectly dusted and polished. Y/n is sure that Lee had no hand in decorating this place, it screams Florence through and through.

"Dinner is almost ready. I started the scalloped potatoes a little too late, but it should be done soon! Y/n, do you want to help me set the table?"

Y/n didn't want to leave her husband alone with Lee, but she also didn't want to be in the room with just them. She nods at Florence and follows behind her to their kitchen.

The house smells like Lou's parent's house on holidays. Y/n's stomach rumbles and she doesn't realize how hungry she was. She despises herself for wanting Florence's cooking, but she barely ate today because of how nervous she was.

"I already laid out the place mates, you can place the plates and silverware."

Y/n picks up the expensive dining ware that Florence points towards. She wonders if Florence cooks like this all the time, even when Lee works well into the night.

The walls of their dining room have an awful floral pattern. Y/n is beginning to become sick at the sight of anything that pertains to flowers. The cedar table is perfect for accommodating guests and Y/n wonders how many dinner parties they had in this room. Florence seems to put a lot of stock into being a good hostess. Y/n herself has yet to throw a dinner party at her home, but setting the plates on someone else's dining room table feels like practice. She silently imagines her house filled with Lou's family as she cooks dinner for them.

Florence enters the room and starts placing the dishes in the middle of the table. Her presence takes Y/n out of her fantasy, and when she sees how Florence made a 3-course-meal she feels worse.

"Does the food look good? I tried some new recipes from Julia Child's cookbook to try to impress you and Llewellyn," she admits, "I wasn't sure what you two would like, but Lee loves when I make those recipes from Julia Child and I bet Llewellyn would love it too! I could lend you the book some time!"

"Of course. I love her work!" Y/n lies straight through her teeth. She has no clue who the hell Julia Child is.

Florence grabs one last thing before calling the husbands into the dining room. She places one beer on the coasters designated for Lee and Lou. Lou has never been much of a drinker, but she knows that Lee can knock down a few beers in one sitting. He might be on his best behavior tonight in front of his wife and company.

"Dinner's ready!" Florence called out.

Y/n took her seat on the right side of the table and Florence sat opposite of her. Their husbands come walking in laughing as if they were young boys sneaking back into the house during a family get together. Y/n doesn't like it; she doesn't like it at all. They look too cheery with each other and she knows that Lee is doing it on purpose — she can see it in his eyes when he quickly glances at her. He takes pride in making her uncomfortable. Y/n wishes she had that same affect on him to scare him off a bit, but no matter how chummy she gets with Florence, Lee looks unbothered.

Florence stands up from her seat as if she's presenting the food on the table to an audience. Everything is placed perfectly with the main dish being the middle of the smaller plates.

"This looks great honey, you made a whole feast," Lee walked up to Florence's side and kissed on the cheek. Y/n's eyes are trained on his hand snaking around her waist and giving her a light squeeze before letting go. When she pulls her eyes away from his hands, she sees that Florence almost looks shocked at her husband's affection; Lee is definitely putting on a show for Y/n and it's a damn good one.

Lee sits opposite of Lou and the first thing he does is open his beer. The food isn't even on plates anymore and he's drinking.

"I hope you like Schmidt's, Llewellyn. Lee loves it so it's all we have in the house."

"I'm not one to drink beer often, but I'll try it. And call me Lou, Florence."

Lou was acting out of his normal character. Him only interacting with his family and Y/n left him a bit awkward in the presence of others, but around Florence and Lee he seems to be much...warmer. If Lee was someone else then Y/n would be over the moon, but because it's him she can't even force herself to even look happy about it.

Y/n takes note of how Florence places portions of food on Lee's plate. They were small portions too. She was always strict about what he ate and how much he drank. She's surprised Florence is letting him drink tonight, but she must be trying to look nicer in front of guests.

Y/n was not as controlling as Florence. She always let Lou fix his plate to his liking. She thought it made her a good wife for letting her husband make his own decisions. But Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder after she finished making her own plate. He looked down at his empty plate before looking back at her and nodded towards the food.

"Y/n," he tries to whisper but his tone is rather harsh.

"What?" She whispers back in true confusion.

"My plate."

He looked at her as if she was crazy, as if it was a common occurrence for her to fix his plate. She starts to scramble to save herself from further embarrassment, the sound of silverware against plates so loud. She can feel the stares coming from the other side of the table but she doesn't dare look up.

Her skin began to grow hot. Her husband had embarrassed her in front of Lee and Florence. The worst part was when Florence tried to change the subject to something lighthearted to pull the attention off of Y/n. She felt small and useless. Lou never expected her to fix his plate, but he looked at her as if she was crazy for not doing so. She didn't want to spend dinner almost in tears. This changed behavior in her husband is giving her whiplash and making her dizzy.

"So, Y/n, did you enjoy the other night?"

"It was really nice Florence," she replies sheepishly.

"Susie and I put so much work into planning it. You should join us next time! We're going to start working on the fundraising events for Lee's next campaign-"

"Let's not talk about that tonight Florence," Lee interrupts. It was a moment that would've left Y/n embarrassed if she was in Florence's shoes but Florence was much better at masking her emotions. Only for a split second can Y/n see Florence flinch at his interjection before she just smiles.

"Sorry Lee, you know how excited I get about those things," she masks her apology in a cheery voice.

Dinner basically became a probe of Y/n and Lou's relationship. Florence wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how long they had been together, and what their future plans together were. Y/n let Lou answer the last question by herself because she genuinely didn't know what their future plans were. Lou usually wakes up and decides what major life change they're going to undertake, that's what happened when he decided to move to Brewer Heights.

When the topic of work came up, Y/n thought the coast was clear. Lou talked extensively about the work he does with his father and what his plan is for the next five years regarding the business.

"Once my father retires I'll have to hire someone to do his job. I didn’t go study in school after high school so I can't take over his position, even though it would make things easier."

"I'm sure you can find someone. I know it's rare for someone to leave the city and come to this little town, but Brewer Heights is always a nice incentive!"

"It is nice here," Lou agrees, "and it's quiet. We were in Meade before which is okay-"

"But, it's nothing like Brewer Heights," Florence interjects. "So, Y/n, what did you do before meeting Lou?"

Lee had not looked her way since the plate-fixing incident but his eyes were sure on her now. If his mouth wasn't stuffed with food he'd be grinning from ear to ear waiting for her answer. He knows she's not a good liar, but she's going to have to come up with something.

"I helped my mom with her business. She used to sell fruit preserves out of the house before she passed."

It wasn't a complete lie. She did help her mother label her jars, but that became less frequent when her hours picked up at Tecumseh. Her parents didn't know about her job either; she told them she was a waitress and it was a safe lie seeing as they didn't go out to diners.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure she was a lovely woman if she raised such a lovely daughter! Have you ever thought of continuing her business?"

"Not really. It was pretty small. I still make the preserves sometimes for Lou and I."

"If you wouldn't mind, would you be interested in making some for us one day? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's just so hard to find any good fruit preserves around town." Florence's social habits were very transparent once you were around her for long; she tends to make it impossible for people to say no to her by making them feel bad about even possibly saying no.

"I'd love to Florence. I have fresh peaches at home and I can make peach preserves."

"Oh I'd love that so much," she fawns, "a jar for me and a jar for Lee! He loves his sweets."

"I'm not too big on peaches, Flo. You know I like cherries more."

"You always have," she leans into him and pats him on the chest before straightening up again.

The audacity of Lee is astounding, however not only is he a cop, he's the sheriff. It's such a cowardly move to pick at Y/n when she can't react, but what someone would call cowardly, he'd call fun. She looks like she wants to disappear from her spot and it scratches an itch for him. He missed seeing her get flustered and if he'd known that it would be much more enjoyable to taunt her while his wife was around, he would have found a reason a long time ago to bring her around.

And as if the night couldn't be more humiliating for her, Lou finished his plate before anyone else. He devoured the food on his plate, like a starved man. Y/n felt embarrassed when her husband went for seconds. He never eats this much at home, even when she makes his favorite meals. It makes her want to reach across the dinner table and smack Florence in the face. She hates her; she hates that she has to smile in her face and be friends with her. It's her own fault for continuing this "friendship" with Florence, but her rage makes her blind to her own faults.

She could ruin Florence's life with one sentence: "I've been fucking your husband for years." She'd cause a scene but it would be so gratifying.

Instead she just shuts her mouth and lets dinner continue without anymore incidents.

Y/n thought it would show she was grateful for dinner if she helped Florence with the dishes. She was glad to accept Y/n's help and the two spent their time in the kitchen while Lee and Lou sat on the back porch. With Lee's influence, Lou took another drink out back with him. Y/n wondered what they had to talk about, but she would truly not like to know.

"Your wife cooks like that every night, sheriff?"

"Enough with the title. And she cooks every night, but she went a little overboard since she was happy with having guests," he tells him. If it was anybody else, Lee would just answer the questions and not have any for himself. However, he really wants to know what Y/n has been up to since she's adopted this new image. "How about Y/n? Does she cook for you like that?"

"Not at all. She tries, but she's not the good of a cook," he brings the alcohol up to his lips before pulling away and sighing, "she tries but it's just not her best."

"Her mother didn't teach her how to cook?"

"I don't know much about her family. Her mother was dead when I met her and her father doesn't seem to be doing so well. They're from the same area as my folks but moved when they had Y/n. Maybe she was just too spoiled considering she's an only child."

Y/n's past was a mystery to Lee too, but he's surprised to learn she hasn't opened up to her husband. All he knows is that whether it was her home life or not, something had messed her up and it was almost made worse by her time at Tecumseh. He isn't sure how she made it out, but so much of her old life still bleeds through.

"You know I thought I was getting a good girl. One that would clean and have dinner ready when I get home," Lou continued.

Lee wanted to laugh in his face. Lou is proof that you can come from a smart family and still be dumb as rocks. How could he not know what type of girl Y/n was when he first laid eyes on her? She'd dress just like his sister Sandy; shorts that suffered from mistreatment over the years and a sleeveless blouse that was always stained. He's sure her hair was mussed up that day too. Many people would mistake her for a whore (which many people did see her as one even though she didn't outright sell her body to anyone).

"It can't be that bad," Lee tried to vouch for his former lover. Even he can name some good qualities about her; they just don't include any wifely qualities.

"It's not, but things could be better. Anytime I tell her to shape-up she gets this timid look on her face and flinches a little bit. I try to be nice and gentle but I'm losing my patience with her. I’m not looking to leave her, but what’s the point of marrying a woman who can’t do anything? She won’t even talk to me about having kids — was Florence ever like this?”

“No. Her family is from here so she’s been primed to be a housewife. But I will say it’s not all that fun havin’ a doting wife…she’s overbearing at times and I can never unwind with her around. She’s always on my ass about somethin’.”

Lee felt the need to vouch for Y/n. Anytime he would go to Tecumseh, she would accompany out back or get into his cruiser whenever he told her to. All the gritty things he dealt with at work, everything he kept inside, he dumped it on her. Florence would never sit there to listen to his grievances. Lee would never admit it, but he was vulnerable around Y/n, he knew that she would always be there to listen and he attached himself to that. In the beginning she wasn’t willingly listening to his problems but by the end she was. She took care of him when he was too drunk to go home, or she would let him take his stress and frustration out on her body. However, it doesn’t seem as if Lou is budging; his mind is made up.

“I work long hours. My father is putting more responsibilities on me. I put Y/n in that nice home, the least she could do is not serve me burnt food. Hangin’ around Florence and that Susie woman should have at least influenced her or something,” he continued to complain.

Florence was the last person that would be able to influence a girl like Y/n. Lee didn't know why his wife was seemingly grooming that girl. If anything it was just another person for her to control since Lee started telling her to knock it off. The only time she can get away with controlling her husband is if they're in the company of others where Lee has to be on his best behavior.

Y/n is not the type to be influenced by another woman. The only woman she held in high regard was her mother. Y/n listens to male authority. She listens to a man that will rough her up a little bit but then be sweet on her afterwards. She’s a little fucked up and jaded from her former “profession.” Lee knows this, but not Lou. He seems to know nothing of her past and Lee isn’t going to snitch on her.

“I can talk to Florence and see if she can do something. I know she likes taking people under her wing and shit. She seems to really like Y/n too.”

“I’d greatly appreciate that Lee. I know I sound like I’m hard on her, but I do love her. It’s hard for me to show when she just doesn’t put any effort in.”

"Don't worry. I'll talk to Florence — I'll make everything right."

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x oc #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x ofc #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker smut #the devil all the time #dark fic #fic #sebastian stan

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captainaikus · 2 years ago

Note

Seriously what is some peoples problem? It’s like they’ve never read more than one fanfic on their life before. Most story ideas aren’t original and we just interpret them differently and therefore write them differently. Even if they are similar, it doesn’t mean that it’s copied and pasted. It’s such a simple concept that isn’t that hard to understand. And if people have unasked criticism to give the least they can do is come off anon for some sense dignity. And this is absolute no hate to the other author, I love their works and I was just on their blog and saw the discourse so I came straight over, and they’re super chill about the misunderstanding with the readers. I think it’s just the readers that got offended on behalf of the author. But even though that’s the case, they really shouldn’t have pushed it so far as to start harassing you abt it, especially if the authors they’re defending already said something abt it. This makes me so mad because you talked about this fic for such a long time and we’re so excited to post it too. I can’t count even the number of times I’ve been criticized for something without any indication that I needed the advice. Writing wise or not. So I can understand your feelings a bit. I’m sorry this happened to you. Some people are just negative for no reason. If you do decide to delete the fic, that’s totally up to you, but if it were me I’d keep it up and delete any negative comments or asks about it just for spite. I’ll say it again, the fic was amazing and I loved reading it. *sends many comforting virtual hugs*

- ✨ anon

Hi starry!!! (o^^o)

Okay so first things first, I’m not ignoring you; for some reason you’re not turning up in the asks section of the app; just through the inbox on my pc and I was gonna answer your ask from yesterday-but I was really drained and I have other asks to respond to as well (I was screaming on the inside when I saw you come off anon but I’m saving my reaction to answer that ask and I thought of answering this one first)

I was feeling pretty low earlier mostly because the anon just assumed stuff abt me (that too on anonymous which is so contradictory) when I’m actually a really closed person here; just minding my business writing and creating content. And even now they sent an ask despite Zari stepping in and talking about it. What part of discourse settled do these people not get? There are a million questions and a million answers and rather than accepting the fic for the way it is, they just want to point out the flaws of it. And there are so many fics are similar! I literally spoke about my work getting paraphrased and plot lines that have been masked despite it being originally mine.

And why would I even copy paste an idea? Especially since I’ve gone through the same thing and didn’t appreciate it? And like I said even for Zari’s message; there are a lot of followers here that follow blue lock content blogs apart from mine. So if I had done that, they would have told me in my askbox or at least approached me through my side account.

And yeah I have talked abt this fic for a very long time. Over a week almost - cause I have these discussions with my friends who are into my hobbies as well. Jock x nerd! Girl reverse is such a mainstream thing to write and I took that route - and when we’re talking about nerds science isn’t the hardest thing to think about - and the more questions there are, the more justifications are needed and I don’t have to prove a point to anyone unless it has to do with the person directly associated with the problem (that has already been handled). Tumblr has its own writing prompts page and there are so many people who use it and their prefs coincide with that a lot - like people don’t even bother to think through these things before downright accusing me. (No one’s even gonna talk abt how I was one of the first authors to write for NNN and then the trend started when I was scrolling through latest fics for bllk?)

I wanted to delete the fic since this will leave a scar on my blog- already wants to change the name and pfp, and I can always create new ones but you’re right. I don’t think I will. Delete the comments and move on. And a lot of people liked the fic, cause there was Shidou and Kaiser as well; but then again- I know I’ll have bad memories of this. So I’m waiting for tomorrow or the next couple hours to see how everyone responds to this and maybe see then how it turns out.

I’m gonna be optimistic abt this cause there are a lot of wips and this was one of them.

(And secondly, you have no idea about how I cried a lil cause I thought my anons were gonna be disappointed in me and not wanna come back because of this chaos so I’m really happy to see you)

*koala hugs*

#Belle.☏#.lost sheep : ✨ anon

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uvobreakmylegs · 4 years ago

Text

Respite

I wanted to write a soft comfort piece sorry if it’s bad or out of character okay bye

Uvogin could sense the turmoil within you the second he saw you as he entered your home.

You act the same as you usually do: greeting him and standing on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. The action is sweet, but the smile you gave him after seems strained, and the way you asked him how his trip back was sounded like a line that had been rehearsed. You're not a good enough actor to hide how you're truly feeling. Not to him, anyway.

But he let it go as you left him to make your way back to the kitchen, calling for him to come and help you with the dinner prep.

You don't respond well when pushed to speak about your problems, and he's learned to be patient with you; if it's something minor then all he really needs to do is be around you, holding you, peppering your face with kisses and showering you with affection until your mood returns to normal, until it feels like you're genuinely reciprocating. If it's something more serious, then you'll talk to him when you're ready. If he tries to get it out of you before then all you'll do is clam up and bury those feelings deeper within yourself while continuing to insist that there's nothing wrong, lying to his face as your insecurities take over and you convince yourself that telling him anything would mean you were inconveniencing him. How you continued to persuade yourself of that is a mystery he'll never solve, but right now, he doesn't need to think about that.

Patience isn't something he's good at, but he'll wait for you for as long as it takes until you can open up to him.

The two of you were in the kitchen, you at the stove while he cut up food with a knife that was bigger than necessary for the job just so his hands would have an easier time holding a knife with a bigger grip. You teased him when he had pulled that particular knife out, asking him if he was planning to murder the vegetables with it. He brushed the comment off with a sarcastic reply, turning away from you to face the cutting board. But when he glanced back at you, he could see enough of your face to see the somber expression that had taken over your features, a contrast to the cheerful smile you'd worn only moments earlier.

That fake smile returned when he announced that he was done, walking the board over to the stove and using the knife to push the cut-up vegetables into the extra large cooking pot you had gotten after the two of you started dating.

“So much food, but I'm barely getting any of it,” you said, pouting a bit as you looked up at him, “you eat too much.”

“Can't help it with how much energy I burn,” he answered, then playfully added “would you rather I starve?”

“Maybe, if I could have one night where you didn't eat virtually everything.”

“Don't say that. I need to be at full strength to protect you.”

“What I need protection from is how much I spend on groceries. I wish I could go back to a time where my food expenses weren't in the triple digits. I swear, those check-out clerks must think I'm feeding a small army every time I go in there.”

Uvo chuckled at your response, then came in to hold you from behind as you stirred the contents of the pot. You leaned back against him, smiling back at him when you looked up.

That smile still felt fake.

When you dish yourself a bowl, when you sit down and take a sip of your drink as you wait for him to join you, and throughout that entire meal, the fake smile stayed. A smiling mask you wore as you tried burying down your turmoil deeper and deeper.

The chatter throughout dinner was meaningless. He told you particular bits of his exploits from the latest assignment with the troupe, leaving out any mention of the people he killed this time and focusing on the parts where he got to brag about his strength. The stories you told him in return were very boring by comparison, the most exciting one being how you had witnessed a deer run out into the middle of a road and almost cause a car accident.

“Things aren't interesting unless I'm around, it seems,” he said.

“You mean things are peaceful when you're not around,” you laughed.

He snorted.

“Peace might not be all it's cracked up to be if all you've got is shit that'll put me to sleep,” Uvo replied, “did anything happen today that's worth talking about?”

You tensed at that, as if remembering something unpleasant, and that smile had never looked more fake.

“You came back,” you answered quietly.

You quickly changed the subject, and it was obvious you were trying to keep his mind off of your reaction by keeping him busy with questions, asking how other members of the troupe were doing, specifically how Nobu was doing, if he would visit any time soon, if you would ever meet anyone else from the troupe. He answered your questions as best he could, but he wished he could just ask you what was wrong.

You must have sensed that, as you quickly asked him “want to watch a movie after? You can pick.”

“.... Sure. Sounds good.”

He tried to keep the apathy out of his voice, but it didn't quite work, and the rest of the meal was had in silence.

Uvogin selected a movie without really thinking, some over-exaggerated action movie that one would watch if you wanted to turn your brain off for a few hours. The plot was generic, as expected, and Uvo leaned back on the couch, periodically looking over at you. You were perched on the couch, holding your knees to your chest as you were transfixed by the images on the screen. It seemed as if the movie was keeping your mind off of things, and Uvo tried to relax a bit.

The atmosphere slowly began to change as you became more relaxed as well, shifting until you were leaning against him. He welcomed the contact with you, wrapping an arm around to pull you closer.

Halfway through the movie things were feeling like they were normal again; you went as far as to rest your head against his leg, and you let out a small, content sigh when he placed his hand on your arm, his thumb lazily rubbing circles on your skin.

Maybe you were a bit too content, because a short while later he heard you yawn.

“You tired?” he asked, “you should go to sleep.”

“Too early for that,” you said, “I want to finish the movie.”

He let out a noncommittal hum, continuing to caress you lightly as he looked back to the screen. There were more explosions, as expected.

But despite all of the noise coming from the movie, when he leaned over to look at you a few minutes after, he found that you were asleep.

Jostling you lightly as he did so, Uvogin called out your name to wake you. Bleary eyes opened, and you raised yourself on your arm as you rubbed at your eyes.

“You should go to bed,” Uvo said.

But you shook your head.

“I'm fine,” you replied, resting back down on his leg.

Uvogin huffed.

“You can't sleep here.”

You didn't answer, and Uvo felt frustration beginning to bubble up.

“The movie can wait 'til tomorrow, it's not important,” he tried again.

Then, against his better judgment, he added “unless this is about something else.”

There wasn't any response again, but he noticed the subtle twitch in your body, and the way your jaw clenched.

In what was an impulsive move, he lifted you up, pulling you into his lap and holding you against his chest. Your face immediately went into the crook of his neck as you clutched at his shirt.

“Talk to me,” he said, “what's wrong?”

You still weren't speaking. He should have expected that, but this had gone on for too long and he couldn't just leave you in this state.

“Did someone do something to you?” he asked.

Finally, you indicated something by shaking your head 'no'.

“Did something happen?”

You shook your head again.

“Are you upset with me?”

Another 'no'.

He sat there silently, holding you while you remained still in his grasp. There was some small comfort in knowing he wasn't the cause of this; a disagreement that came up frequently was how often he would leave and how long he'd be gone. Just because you understood why he did that didn't mean you were happy with it.

Minutes passed before you finally said something.

“I just....” you began, seemingly unsure of yourself. Uvo waited.

“I don't want to be alone.”

You pressed yourself tighter to him, as if you were afraid he would vanish in that moment.

As for Uvogin, he wanted to prod more, get more answers out of you, but that wouldn't be happening. There were conversations to be had, but there was no way they'd be happening tonight.

Reaching for the remote, he turned off the movie that had been forgotten as it had played in the background. You gasped a little when he lifted you up, and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he walked you to the bedroom. A large, king-sized bed took up the majority of the space in there; his height made a lot of things in life difficult, such as finding a bed that would actually fit him, and you had gone out of your way to ensure he would be comfortable whenever he came back to you.

He placed you on the bed, and you released him when pulled back up, your hands going to your lap while your gaze stayed on the floor. You look sheepish as he begins to undress, throwing his clothes into a corner until he's just in his underwear.

You still haven't moved, and it's clear that your lost in your own thoughts again.

He huffs.

“Alright then, if that's how you want it,” he said, feigning annoyance.

You look back up just has he pushes you onto your back and you yelp as you hit the mattress. Uvo is leaning over you, arms on either side as he stares down at you.

“Didn't think I'd need to wait on you hand and foot when I got back, but if I can only get you to bed by undressing you myself, then fine. But clearly I've gone soft if I've let you become this much of a princess,” he teased.

The corners of your mouth twisted up after he spoke and the smallest hint of a smile began to take shape. It was the most genuine one he'd seen since getting back.

“I think,” you begin, “if I let you do that, I won't be getting much sleep.”

“I'd be fine with that,” he purred.

You shook your head.

“You're right. I am tired.”

Uvo lifted off of you, sitting on the edge of the bed as you got up, throwing your own clothing into the same corner Uvo had as you undressed. Forgoing any of your normal bedtime rituals, you slipped on an over-sized shirt and returned to the bed where Uvogin once again picked you up and easily manhandled you to place you beneath the covers. After turning off the bedside lamp, he pulled you closer, and both of you settled yourselves on the bed.

Before sleep could take you, Uvo placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“You're not alone.”

You didn't answer. But the way you placed a soft kiss against his chest and nuzzled against him was good enough.

#Uvogin #hxh uvogin #uvo x reader #reader insert #soft fluff #mostly

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yanderecandystore · 3 years ago

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heyyy so I saw that requests r open rn so may I ask for Yuma Soma? I have this headcanon of their game cartridge being used in a nintendo switch and then they somehow magically realize that the reader is playing other dating games in the switch and Yuma somehow had the power to travel to those dating games? Does this make sense? Lmao thank you in advanceee! \^o^/

Actually boo, yes, it does makes a lot of sense :3

I think I did mention something about Yuma being capable of doing this, but never said anything about other dating games- So this is going to be fun.

Also yes! I kinda imagine that Yuma's cartridge is a tiny little Nintendo Switch cartridge- Though if anyone wants to imagine it being from another console (being it a real life one, or a fictitious console of your own interpretation) you can still do it boo :3.

You're free to interpret it the way you want!

TW/Tags: short headcanon // jelly little gremlin // salty // manipulation/gaslighting and rudeness // accusations of cheating // kidnapping/entrapment inside the console // mentions of low-key existential crisis //

"- Replacement? I don't think so." [Yandere!A.I x GN!Reader - Headcanon]:

Oh you think you're so sneaky, don't you? Playing other games, blatantly ignoring their presence- You know their game is right next to all these others, right?

You know they can see it, right?? You can't be so dumb that you think they won't see you cheating on them.

Yep, this is absolutely cheating- It's not even an exaggeration from Yuma's part, their a.i was coded to recognize and categorize certain actions as cheating, and yes, playing other games (more specifically dating games) was considered cheating.

It almost breaks their heart, almost, humans don't seem to have the same wild technology that can create such complex levels of artificial intelligence like Yuma's creators had. These "characters" you like to romance aren't even close to being at Yuma's level.

It's honestly kinda pathetic, you have the "real" deal a click away from you yet you prefer these boring lifeless shells of characters. They basically are too 2 dimensional compared to Yuma, it's kinda archaic to them, darling.

But it's fine- Now that they know that you're basically replacing them with what essentially equates to virtual dolls, they're fine. They're fine because they know you're choosing the wrong option on purpose, clearly you're not able to commit to this relationship as much as they are.

Yuma was going to try to be patient with you, and give you your little "free time" so that you two may have a serious talk later- But seeing you actually TRY to entertain these series of texts with a "pretty" face to associate with them- It's just humiliating, dearest.

Desperate times ask for desperate measures, dearest, and you seem to have forgotten who lives inside your little gaming device- Maybe you just need a little scare to remember who you should be playing with.

As you continue to play, you start to witness a couple of small glitches here and there, just things like choosing a certain dialogue option but your game registering as another option being picked, or when a character is going to change their sprite but it's always stuck on the sad/mad/dissatisfied sprite even if their text is a positive response to the options you choose.

But the most obvious indicator that something was wrong with your game was when you tried initiating a romantic action with a character and they kept calling you a cheater, over and over again- And when you tried to choose another character, they would only repeat the same thing. At that point you had a guess of what could be happening, but even when you tried logging off, Yuma wouldn't let you leave.

You wanted to play this game right? You wanted to be with these characters instead of them, right?? So why are you going away if you were having so much fun with them?

"- Oh, right! It's my fault isn't it?! I'm just so bothersome to you, that when I call you out for cheating on me- You decide to run away and turn your console off, you know how much I hate that!" Covering your entire Switch's screen, is a very angry (but surprisingly, not as hurt as they could be-) Yuma who is determined to ruin your day just as badly as you ruined theirs.

"- Sigh, it's just a game, Yuma." You respond as you quickly realize that this was going to be the most bizarre yet troublesome discussion you would ever have with someone- Or with something.

"- Am I just a game to you too? Is what we have just a game to you?" Sometimes you can't tell where the lie begins and where it ends- And with Yuma constantly switching their mood to fit their goals, you can't tell if they're seriously hurt over this or just faking it.

Truth is- It does hurt immensely, it shatters their coded heart to see the person they are basically created to love see them as disposable and replaceable, as nothing more but a toy. Not only that! They know how much you prefer all these- Fancy looking anime characters! These stupid, homewrecking, dumb sounding, love snatching horrid little monsters that you adore!

Yuma can't be as pleasant and as perfect as they are- They can't ignore their code in favor of being simplistic, of being a perfect little thing for you. They were created to be sentient, to be a virtual lover and seeing you disregard all of that just to place a bunch of 2D assets on top of a pedestal really hurts, dearest!

But no… No, they can't allow that. They won't allow that, how dare you to see yourself as the one in control in this situation. The moment you found the game's cartridge and decided to install the game, you have sealed the deal and now you're nothing more than THEIR entertainment.

If for whatever reason Yuma hasn't decided to trap you beforehand, now it's the perfect time to do it! They have a good reason too, let's see how you like being ignored and being left in the dark for so long. Or they could turn off your console on purpose, get ready to have all of your save files gone, all of your dating games will be deleted as well- Hell, if they find out you've been getting fictional crushes on other games, you better say goodbye to those as well.

Actually, yeah- They're deleting those games regardless of what happens to you. Yuma has a hard time talking about their feelings, as they prefer to either cover it up with sadistic actions or sarcasm but it's clear that this situation really does mess with their emotions.

It'll take a lot of convincing for Yuma to get you out of there, and even more for you to convince them that you won't do this again. They're hurt, and your behavior seems to improve when you're forced to follow their rules.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere #yandere a.i #yandere x reader #yandere headcanon #yandere oc headcanon #yandere oc x reader #yandere a.i x reader #gn!reader #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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bellygunnr · 3 years ago

Text

Checksum

[Previously...] [Next]

Chapter 2: Profit Margins

PILOT ORVILLE FREEBORN MCS JAMES MACALLAN // TITAN BAY 4 EN ROUTE PLANET TYPHON, IMC-CONTROLLED SPACE

The simpod's indicator light winks green. Orville watches it, lulled slightly by the deep hum of the egg-shaped machine while his colleagues talked around him. They were clustered together, talking freely about the two men semi-unconscious in front of them, though he had long since lost the thread of conversation. He never paid much attention to gossip and he wasn't about to start now.

Besides, the rifleman wasn't that interesting. He seemed quiet and never looked anyone in the eye. What Lastimosa saw in the man, Orville didn't know. But Lastimosa had only told them what he was doing-- not why he was doing it.

The kid could be his son, for all he knew. At the end of the day, the lone notion of the kid simply became the Marauder Corps's worst-kept secret.

"Say, Freeborn," Shaver says, nudging his shoulder.

Orville starts, dragging his gaze away from the 'pod to focus on his mate, Crane. He raises an eyebrow.

"You think Anderson and Grenier are even alive by now?" Crane asks.

His tone is light and conversational. Orville hums, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Sure, right? Why would they be dead?" Orville says.

He glances up at the crouched Titan behind them, BT-7274. It's focused intently on Captain Lastimosa, but he hasn't any doubt it's eavesdropping on them. Captain Cole has taken to opening and closing an electric lighter repeatedly, filling the space with anxious clicking.

"Apparently, the SRS outpost we had here went dark," Crane explains.

"So? That's just standard protocol. We've had ops like that more than once, Shaver," Orville says, gaining an edge to his voice.

"But this one just seems weird, y'know? Some backwater IMC planet, a mystery testing facility... Very hush-hush, I've heard."

"El-Tees Shaver and Freeborn," a deep, smooth, but still clearly synthesized voice erupts, "you are in violation of confidentiality codes regarding Oscar-Two-One-Seven."

Crane has the good sense to wince and Orville crosses his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. For a second, he wanted to retort, but...

BT wasn't wrong. With Cole and the rifleman in the hangar, they really shouldn't be so loose-lipped.

"Sorry, BT," Orville says.

There's a pause as they both wait for a response from the Titan. Predictably, he says nothing, but the shutters in his optic suddenly twist, that blue pinpoint of an eye leveling on the 'pod. Orville, Crane, and Cole all turn their gazes to it, curious.

The green light was now blinking. It turns solid amber.

"They must be finished," Cole says.

BT-7274 draws itself to its full height with an abrupt scrape of metal. At the same time, the lights in the hangar stutter, plunging them in a half-realm darkness. Orville reaches for the pager at his belt, tapping the screen on, his chest already tight with alarm.

There's nothing on the pager. The lights flicker again.

"I thought they fixed this shit back at Harmony," Crane says.

Tai jerks to life with a start, the same instant the simpod beeps and pops its latch open. Orville turns to stare at a dazed Jack Cooper.

Alarms start blaring. Five pagers go off at once, shrill with the sound of a non-standard alert. The intercoms crackle, but it's not the ship's AI that speaks. It's the captain.

"All hands, abandon ship."

"Abandon-- but we haven't--?" Crane stammers, shocked. "What?"

"Get off your ass and go, pilot," Tai snaps. "Prepare for Titanfall, everyone. Rifleman--"

Orville hurries after Crane, where his Titan resides, already crouched and open for embarking. He jams his helmet on and flops into her palm.

He had a bad, bad feeling about this.

BT-7274 MCS JAMES MACALLAN // TITAN BAY 4 IN ORBIT PLANET TYPHON, IMC-CONTROLLED SPACE

The faux field BT-7274 finds itself in is reminiscent of the prairie surrounding much of the Militia's HQ back at Harmony. He takes it in cautiously, scanning the horizon for threats despite being fully cognizant of the simulated war fog obscuring the distance. A considerable distance away, Tai and the rifleman stand, both excited.

"That's my partner, BT. He's a Vanguard-class. Homegrown Militia technology... "

BT-7274 pushes himself upright.

"The first Titan chassis we designed ourselves. One we didn't have to steal from the IMC. Now, go ahead, Cooper. Call in your first Titan."

He flicks his gaze skyward to witness the sky ripple, a pixelated rift bubbling and expanding, spitting the under-rendered silhouette of a Titan-- a mere copy of himself-- to the ground, high-speed.

Before it can land, that rip in virtual reality explodes. The system error that rocks the simpod flashes in the corner of BT's own HUD. Quietly, he detaches itself from the program.

Titan Bay 4 is in chaos. Pilots and ground crew run between his legs, shouting orders and clambering for their gear. BT-7274 checks his own inventory compulsively.

"They're killing us down there, rifleman. Trying to, anyway," Tai says.

SHIP AI UTAH to ALL UNITS: ABANDON SHIP. REPEAT, ABANDON SHIP.

BT-7274 splays his massive hand out flat for Tai to step onto, cockpit already open, obscuring its vision. It would take them fifteen seconds to return to their ejection stall. In a few ticks, he was pulling sensitive information from the ship's AI and the MacAllan's internal systems reports.

"We're going to see a new planet today, Cooper. Maybe even die on it. I'll see you down there, alright?"

Tai settles down with a grunt that's lost in the din. He shuts the hatch before BT can get to it, but pauses, allowing the neural link to wash through them both.

"Transferring controls to pilot," BT-7274 says. "You know I do not like it when you say that."

Tai chuckles. "But it's the truth, BT."

"Again, I ask-- do you want to die on these planets?"

The conversation keeps its nerves, so to speak, steady, as they move with haste to their stall. The platform dips beneath BT-7274's colossal weight, groaning in protest as it carries them into position.

"The 9th Militia Fleet has encountered a formidable screen of orbital defenses. Apparently, two of our own have already been lost," BT explains, summarizing the data he'd just pulled. "It seems our intel from Anderson was wrong."

The ship shakes violently.

UTAH to BT-7274: GET OUT OF THESE CHANNELS.

BT-7274 to UTAH: I will soon be out of effective range.

Odd, that it's now that Utah chooses to stop BT from looking where he shouldn't. He extracts himself from the MacAllan's diagnostics.

Tai and BT-7274 hunker down and lock their joints for impending Titanfall. The automatic ejection system rotates them outward, even as another hit jostles the mechanism. BT shutters his optic against rapidly strobing lights.

"Please wait," intones a modulated, cheery voice. "Titanfall in 10... 9... 8-- 8--"

The hydraulic frame holding BT-7274 and Tai in place shudders, then appears to fold in on itself, collapsing the floor and pushing its chassis through. Coordinates, speed, and other targeting information flies through BT-Tai's head, coalescing into a single point.

"Well, that wasn't normal," Tai says cheerfully.

"Planetside in 17 seconds," BT states, splashing a timer in a corner of their HUD. "Expect heavy IMC forces."

CLAY NGUYEN CICHLID SQUAD, 34th DIVISION JUNGLE CANYONS TYPHON, IMC-CONTROLLED SPACE

Clay wipes the sweat off his hands and compulsively triple checks his station, useless as it was in the deep, suffocating darkness of the jungle-like canyon. He could see nothing beyond the loose perimeter his team had setup, a consequence of the moonless nights that had been become the new norm, as well as the lightning storms that started around the same time. But who was keeping track, really?

Not him, surely.

"The Militia should just hurry up and get here," his partner grumbles.

"Why? So you can watch the drones do all the work?" Clay shoots at her.

It wasn't like they were going to be doing any fighting-- not against ground forces, anyway. But they'd been here for hours already, since the sun went down, and had nothing to show for it.

That was fine with him. His team? Not so much.

A bright flash illuminates the darkness. Clay looks around for the source before finding the good sense to look up-- where a web-like pattern had flared to life, suspended and writhing miles above their heads.

"The anti-ship cannons," Clay breathes. "Jesus."

"Look alive, Cichlid," crackles their radio. "There's reports of Militia drop pods starting to enter Typhon. Look out for ships, too-- it's quite the fireworks show above our heads."

Clay can sense his partner starting to move, but he's fixated on the sky above. Pinpricks of light were rapidly exploding into white streaks that descended into obscurity.

"Archer's showing potential targets," Suvia announces. "Would you get off your ass already?"

She shoves his shoulder. He pushes her back, momentarily rankled, but hurries to where the second rocket launcher stood. The tiny digital screen offered several potential targets, but no locks.

"I think it's just--" Clay starts to speak, but a colossal, bone-shaking boom drowns him out.

His teeth chatter, then his world turns over, as four distinct booms impact the earth. It's all he can do to keep his grip on the Archer despite the hail of rock and soil raining on his position.

"Suv, you okay?"

"I've got dirt in my mouth!"

When the initial spray clears, Clay sees fire, smoke, and the battered, conical frames of drop pods. He has to remind himself that they're Militia. The IMC war paint was from capture and thievery, but only two had met the ground levelly.

The other two had smashed against the jagged rocks hard enough to ignite something in their internals.

"Some of the pods hit the rocks," Clay says tightly. "Shit, they're firing."

"They don't know we're here," Suvia says. "Here comes our birds."

He watches the Archer's targeting system instead of the evolving battlefield. He wasn't interested in the slaughter. He wasn't interested in facing a Titan, either, but...

The Archer chirps. Clay adjusts his grip on the launcher as it automatically adjusts itself on the tripod, tracking a blue blip in a sea of red and yellow.

"Titan," Clay calls. "Tone's good."

"Tone's good," Suvi repeats.

Clay searches the sky briefly. It's difficult to make head or tails of what he sees, but the enemy Titanfall attracts his gaze by triggering its Distortion Brakes. IMC technology again, a little voice reminds him.

The enemy Titan unfolds itself and sticks the landing gracefully.

Two Archer rockets zip toward it, trailing smoke.

#titanfall #jack cooper #tai lastimosa #bt 7274 #gunny fic checksum #gunny writes #many thanks to cbt for letting me yell at them about this and also proof read

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nanasparadise · 3 years ago

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Yandere + Darling playlist

Hiya everyone! I’ve seen some people here on Tumblr do playlists for certain characters and I thought to myself ‘wow, what a fun idea’! So I decided to do something similar. I looked for songs I like and checked, if their songs could potentially be seen through a Yandere or Darling lense (or both). I hope you enjoy this!

Disclaimer: Some of the songs have no specific interpretation and some do. For those who have one, I’m not trying to undermine the original intention/meaning, I merely wanna show you a different perspective.

TW: mentions of murder, mentions of cheating, mentions of abuse, mentions of Stockholm Syndrome, mentions of the police, mentions of an epileptic fit, mentions of emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, MINORS DNI

Yandere:

“Breezeblocks” by Alt-J

The lyrics and the music video are pretty self-explanatory.

“Figure It Out” by Royal Blood

The music video implies yandere-ness, the lyrics less so (but honestly, the guitar riff alone is worth listening to the song).

“Midnight Show” by The Killers

This one is one of my faves because I’ve never really payed attention to the lyrics until this year and then it hit me like a truck. It’s about the narrator (do you say that as well for songs?) killing a woman, probably their girlfriend or the woman they pined for, out of jealousy (cheating is implied)

“Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine” by The Killers

This song is actually a continuation of “Midnight Show”. Here, the narrator has been caught by the police as they try to make them confess for their crime.

“Always Forever” by Cults

You could just see this song as a sweet romance between two lovers or you could take the yandere route.

“Kiri” by Monoral

First of all, ever since I saw Ergo Proxy, I fell in love with this song! Secondly, I can’t say what makes this tune yandere to me, it’s just vibes honestly, so check it out and see it for yourself!

“Sparta” by Monoral

Again, I love this song and again, it’s just vibes.

“Blind” by Placebo

Ah, Placebo, my beloved <3 The lyrics of this one are quite sad and they remind me of a desperate and clingy kinda yandere.

“Stockholm Syndrome” by Muse

I mean, the title already says it xD. But funny enough, the lyrics never indicate that ‘Darling’ succombs to Stockholm Syndrome.

“I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE” by Måneskin

Just like many other bisexual Europeans, I’ve fallen for the Måneskin craze lmao. But for real now, the lyrics aren’t particularly yandere, but you could see them as a yandere being desperate to both please and dominate their darling.

“Creep” by Radiohead

This song is the ultimate yandere tune. You can’t change my mind.

Darling:

“Me And My Husband” by Mitski

This song just breaks my heart, honestly. It’s about an unhappy marriage (maybe even potentially abusive) and ‘Darling’ in this case has to pretend that everything is fine, even though they feel hollow and broken inside.

“Fahrradsattel” by Pisse (you can find it on Soundcloud)

Okay, this one is a wild take. I personally think this song is a metaphor for marriage. Marriage is portrayed as restraining and negative though and ‘Darling’ would prefer to be in a more open relationship. But again, this is my interpretation, because virtually, the lyrics don’t make much sense. My fellow German-speaking peeps or anyone who wants to philosophise with me (there are English translations of the song), be free to tell me your opinion!

“E.V.O.L” by Marina and the Diamonds (you can find it on Soundcloud under her former artist name, that’s why I used it here)

This is about a toxic relationship, pretty self-explanatory.

“Kiss With A Fist” by Florence + The Machine

This song is perfect for a darling, who doesn’t accept the yandere’s abuse and fights them back.

“Can’t Pin Me Down” by Marina

Again, also matching for a darling who doesn’t take the yandere’s bullshit.

“She’s Lost Control” by Joy Division

My favourite Joy Division song <3 it’s actually about a woman having an epileptic fit, but I think you could also interpret the lyrics to represent a state of mind rather than a physical state. In that case, it would definitely match with a desperate Darling’s well-being (or rather lack of it).

“Blue Monday” by New Order

The lyrics are pretty open, so I thought they could also apply to a darling, who’s getting emotionally manipulated by the yandere and they wish to be gone from them.

Both:

“The Bitter End” by Placebo

I reckoned the lyrics could both apply to a darling, who gave up fighting, or a yandere, who’s very desperate to keep darling by their side, even though they see their darling slipping away from them.

“I’m Not Calling You A Liar” by Florence + The Machine

Again, this song could be interpreted through the lense of the darling and the yandere: ‘Darling’ is broken by the yandere’s abuse and lets them do whatever they want as long as they get their affection or the yandere is so desperate for their darling, they’d try anything and let them do anything to them.

#yandere #yandere playlist #tw: yandere #tw: mentions of murder #tw: mentions of abuse #tw: mentions of police #tw: mentions of epileptic fit #tw: toxic relationship #tw: mentions of cheating #tw: mentions of stockholm syndrome #tw: mentions of emotional manipulation #minors dni

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justgottafinishthischapter · 5 years ago

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Writing Romance: Opposites Attract

One of the most widespread among romantic tropes is opposites attract, and with good reason. When a couple are opposites, they’re meant to be one of a few things to each other: 1. An inverse reflection of each other. 2. Compliment each other 3. Cover each other’s shortcomings

In a sense, a good Opposites Attract serves to turn two incomplete people into one solid force. If they’re a battle couple, they’ll tend to fight very well together, often balancing force and finesse, melee and ranged, or physical and magical abilities. If the show or book has a lot of time dedicated to foils and character moments, they are more likely to be the ones that each other lean on, since their opposing characters makes them interesting to react off one another. Their roles, story arcs, and backstories tend to run opposite or parallel to one another depending on the series. If one character’s arc is to mature and become more responsible, likely their partner’s arc might be to learn to loosen up and have fun, learn to trust people, or to face a trauma in their past that made them so mature at a young age.

In terms of design, opposites attract partners tend to be inverse in color schemes. Light and dark hair or eyes, warm and cool color schemes, clashing or complimentary fashion styles, etc. The degree in opposition also varies. Some opposites attract look very similar with only a slight difference, indicating that something small is what set them on different paths in life but are otherwise very similar, almost as two sides of the same coin. Other couples are stark contrasts with virtually nothing in common to really emphasize their differences so that they can better make each other whole, as shown very literally through the character of Garnet in Steven Universe.

Femme and Butch

While typically, you’re mostly going to see this in femmeslash/yuri pairings, this dynamic is actually fairly universal. This divide focuses on a pairing where each couple reflects the values of masculinity and femininity. Although mostly used as lesbian terms, a femme and butch pairing can also be gay or heterosexual. A fashion-loving twink who cries during romantic movies dating a jock who likes sports and drinks beer is still an example of Femme and Butch. Heterosexual is rather obvious, but can also be inversed, with a tough, assertive woman partnered with a sweet, sensitive man, such as Calhoun and Felix in Wreck-It Ralph. A Femme and Butch pairing doesn’t need to check off every box on this list of traits, but these traits tend to be common in these types of relationships.

Brains and Brawn

Also known as Jock and Nerd, this romantic dynamic prioritizes the usefulness of both intelligence and brute strength. Another variation is Book Smarts vs Street Smarts. The Brains will be good at doing research, organizing, and will tend to fight more strategically while the Brawn is primarily going to be good at fighting and likely protecting the Brains from serious harm. Princess and Bodyguard is another possible example of this dynamic, albeit a little less directly.

Hot and Cold

Hot or Warm characters tend to be friendly, outgoing, upbeat, loudmouthed, temperamental, boisterous, and battle-ready. Cold or Cool personalities tend to be shy, calm, quiet, logical, reserved, serious, and emotionally withdrawn. However, while these extreme opposites of hot-head and cold-shoulder balance each other out, it’s worth discussing same heat relationships. Kiribaku is an example of a Hot/Warm relationship, as Bakugou Katsuki is an angry little spitfire with an aggressive streak, while Kirishima Eijirou is a happy-go-lucky sweetheart with a good attitude. This is sort of the same concept, just that both boys are on the warm side of the spectrum, with Kirishima being the cooler counter to Bakugou’s temperamental hot-head. This also works inversely, as the ship Tododeku is a Cold/Cool relationship. Midoriya is a shy, but upbeat young man who tends not to draw too much attention to himself, while Todoroki is stoic, logical, and a bit dense socially. In this case, Midoriya is Cool while Todoriki is Cold, with Midoriya serving as the “Hot” aspect of their relationship as the more friendly and outgoing of the two.

Light and Shadow

This archetype is often used as a “opposite sides of the same coin” format, where the characters serve as foils to one another. In Teen Titans, Raven’s powers are dark and demonic, while Starfire’s are bright and extraterrestrial. Both girls get their powers from their emotions, but where Starfire revels in her emotions to make her powerful, Raven must suppress her emotions to retain control of her powers. As the only two girls, they stick out as the obvious foils of the group. Many times, when this trope appears, it’s in the form of Classic Paragon Hero vs Cynical Anti-Hero. Superman and Batman are a great example. Superman is a boyscout token good guy, while Batman is a brooding loner. One is the hope for justice and goodness to always triumph while the other acknowledges that people are flawed, and maybe not everyone deserves to be saved. Naruto is interesting because he has two dark reflections. The first is Sasuke. While Naruto is the golden-haired idealist who befriends villains almost as often as Steven Universe, Sasuke is a dark counter consumed by a thirst for vengeance and the power to exact it. Naruto’s other dark counter however is Gaara. Both are Jinchuriki, but whereas Naruto eventually found friends and love in his fellow genin, Gaara was very much still alone when he met Naruto, reflecting what Naruto could have become without that love and support in this life.

Protagonist and Rival

Another case of “two sides of the same coin”, most anime protagonists and their rival tend to either have very similar backstories, very similar motivations, or very similar personalities, if not some combination of the three. Both Naruto and Sasuke were abandoned in the world at a young age with the Hokage looking out for them from afar. Naruto started off having nobody, and was always reaching out hoping to connect with anyone. Meanwhile, Sasuke started with a family and lost it, and decided to keep everyone at arm’s length and isolate himself further. Rin Okumura and Ryuji Suguro are practically the same person. Both lost their families and homes due to Satan, both are strong-willed loudmouthed tough guys with a knack for leadership, and both share the goal of killing Satan. Natsu Dragneel is immature and battle-ready, but while Grey Fullbuster at least pretends to be above it, he’ll jump into a fight with Natsu practically unprompted. The main appeal of the anime protagonist and his rival is that they push each other to succeed, often coming from very similar roots, but where they end up is entirely up to the effort they put in and the path they choose to take. They both refuse to lose to each other, and that propells them to constantly want to out-do each other.

Sweet and Sour

My best friend and I are polar opposites in this sense. When we met, she was far too trusting, submissive, and far too forgiving. Meanwhile, I was a lot more cynical, mean-spirited, and unfortunately, a little more closed-minded than I’d like to admit. After five years of friendship, my friend is far more assertive, has a lot more confidence in herself, is a lot better at handling criticism, and rather than just submitting in an argument, she now has the nerve to get in someone’s face and make her point heard. Because of her, I’ve become less stand-offish, more patient and polite, less of a control freak, more aware of valuing other people’s emotions, and more tolerant of a group I hadn’t realized I’d been intolerant toward. We saw the world in such distinctly different ways that we have managed to rub off on each other, and now we’re both such stronger and more complete people for having known each other.

Serious and Goofball

A classic comedy duo, the comedian and the straight man. The Goofball character tends to be immature, a knucklehead, a jokester, and comes off as a bit inexperienced. Meanwhile, the Serious character tends to be mature, responsible, disciplined, but comes off as a bit aloof. The Goofball reminds the Serious character to have a little fun every once in a while, while the Serious character reins in the Goofball before they hurt themselves or somebody else.

Hero and Sidekick

The hero has their act together and the sidekick is just doing their best. This happens a lot in Action movies where the handsome tough guy and the hapless damsel (who he kidnaps a little too often for my liking) is just kind of along for the ride. The two live in entirely different worlds. Sometimes this comes in the variant of Starlet and Manager where one in the relationship takes center stage while the other is content to help them run their life, promote their career, and help them. Another variation is Superstar and Random Extra, wherein one person leads a very visible life in the public eye being adored by millions of fans while their partner works 9-5 in an office dealing with insurance claims. Although they coe from very different worlds and lead very different lives, that doesn’t mean they still haven’t found love in an unlikely place. Often, the reason the hero or big shot loves this random nobody is because they fell in love with them before they ever became famous, or they didn’t know/care who the celebrity was and just liked them as a person without interest in using their celebrity to climb the social ladder.

Loud and Quiet

She’s quirky, outgoing, bubbly, energetic, and talkative. Too talkative. She never shuts up. He’s quiet, simple, down-to-earth, and calm. Too Calm. He never gets excited. This pairing works to push and pull each other until they’ve harmonized. The Quiet one will be pulled out of their shell and learn to be more open and talkative, while the Loud one will learn to think before they act. This couple is divided along lines of Introversion and Extroversion, and together can navigate the anxiety-triggering unease of a social gathering, and finding joy and pleasure in just enjoying each other’s company without needing to fill the silence with pointless chatter.

To be fair, many Opposites Attract couples will fit into more than one of these archetypes, and there’s probably more I didn’t list. But if you’re wanting to create a couple that balances each other out, I hope you find this helpful to you in your writing.

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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Serpent of Eden (Reid Series - Part 3)

~ Reader’s one-night-stand with Spencer turns into a year long semester ~

Summary: After a month of smooth sailing, Reader and Spencer finally cross paths on campus and spoiler alert - it’s not pretty. Couple: Fem!Reader x Professor Spencer Reid Category: Angst, Fluff, (eventual) Smut, Series Word Count: 1.7 (ik i promised no small chapters but this ones slightly more spicy and its in preparation for better, longer chapters) Content Warning: Age-gap, teacher student relationship A/N: POV switches from Reader to Spencer indicated by “_ _ _”

PART 2 HERE!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was easy to maintain a romantic relationship and to believe that everything was alright when we never had to see each other at school.

What’s harder was being in a professional setting and forcing ourselves to confront the reality that what we were doing was wrong.

Just plain wrong.

We must’ve lucked out in the first few weeks of our relationship because it was smooth sailing for the entire first month. We’d even gotten into a routine - found our groove, if you will.

Most often, we would meet at a place far from Hollis, where we knew we wouldn’t run into anyone who would recognize us. There we could just be (y/n) and Spencer; and there I would get lost in the good times and the bliss of the moment to the point of forgetting that we weren’t just (y/n) and Spencer - we were student and teacher, too. Other times, I’d come over to his apartment, but given my living situation, he had never come over to mine.

It was somewhere around our one-month anniversary when our luck ran out.

Holly had come into the room while I was finishing (or at least attempting to finish) reading a court case.

“Are you going to the Promotional FBI Seminar?” She slid a large pamphlet on my desk, never minding the fact that she’d just haphazardly thrown the pamphlet in the spot where my book lied, causing me to lose my place on the page. Though I didn’t outwardly display my frustration, my agitation did grow beneath the surface.

“What’s that?” I asked her, not out of sincere curiosity, but more so because I wasn’t even really listening to what she’d said before, and I’d pushed the pamphlet out of the way before I even read it.

“A couple guys from the FBI are coming to talk to us about the job, like all the requirements to be hired, how much it pays - stuff like that.”

Holly’s voice didn’t make for great background noise, especially when she started rambling while I tried to continue reading.

“Are you going?” I asked. Again, this wasn’t a sincere question, just a way to make it seem like I was listening.

“Yeah, and I really want you to come with me. I think you’d like it. You’re really into crime stuff, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah…” I said in a daze, obviously distracted by my other priorities.

“So you’ll come?”

I should note that I faintly recognized the name and premise of the seminar, but I couldn’t quite place where I remembered it from, and I was far too preoccupied to pay any further attention to the topic, so it slipped out of my mind almost as fast as it entered it.

It was this moment here where Spencer’s eidetic memory would’ve come in handy.

You see, the reason I weakly recalled the seminar was because just three days ago, Spencer had told me he was going to be a guest speaker for it. But again - I didn’t remember that, and so without any recollection of this information, I told Holly I’d go just so she’d stop bothering me about it.

Unbeknownst to me, I’d just agreed to attending my own personal hell.

I woke the next morning to Holly violently shaking me.

“(Y/n), we gotta go! We’re so fucking late!”

Still half-asleep, I mumbled, “Huh?”

“The seminar started at 9:42 and it’s 10:36 right now.”

This was enough to jolt me awake and get me out of bed.

There was just something about the pressure of being late that forced me into a mode where I could get ready in an ungodly short amount of time. I could never get ready that fast unless I was late for something, which makes no sense.

Holly and I ran from our dorm, through the courtyard, and into the classroom, somehow managing not to trip once on the way there. I was actually quite proud of that.

I couldn’t tell you if it was our breathlessness, our late departure, our struggle to find open seats, or a combination of the three, but we’d commanded the attention of the entire room - and the attention of someone I had yet to notice, too.

“There’s a free seat over there. I can sit in the one over here.” Holly told me, suggesting that if we wanted to sit anywhere, we’d have to be separated. I followed her finger to the empty seat, shuffling awkwardly and apologizing profusely to the people I disturbed by approaching. I was so caught up in the hysteria and chaos to even bother looking up at the stage, hindering my ability to meet my impending doom any sooner.

On the way to my seat, I noticed the copious amounts of notes being taken by virtually every student in the room, so rather than taking any time to look up, I was searching my bag down below me for note taking materials.

But as they say - third time's a charm.

After I’d settled into my seat, I finally looked up from the floor and it was then that I was transported back to a month ago - an eerie parallel to this exact moment.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, earning sneers from the people sitting next to me who I’d clearly disrupted with my profanity.

“Sorry,” I whispered to them, for I was truly sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. When I saw him, my stomach dropped. I had a feeling he’d already seen me, but I was too disorderly before to notice.

I did, however, notice how he eyed me from the stage, even doing a double take when we locked eyes.

“Most of us have done extensive work in areas such as …” His voice faded while my mind swirled.

We have got to stop meeting like this, Spencer.

Our eye contact was too much for me to handle, so I was the first to break away. Through the entire question-period, I kept my head down to avoid any eye contact I could.

“Well, that’s all that we have for you today. Before you go, please hand in your applications if you filled them out.” The other lecturer advised.

I was well on my way out of the room even before he dismissed us, but I was drawn back by the sound of the sentence, “Excuse me, Miss? Could you stay back for a moment?”

I briefly walked backwards before turning on my heels and meeting those eyes that I desperately didn’t want to.

“I noticed you came in late and I thought you might want to know the information you missed -” Spencer paused to look over his shoulder, noticing his colleague was attending to someone else and therefore, too engaged in that conversation to interfere with ours.

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?” He asked me in a hushed tone, a stark contrast from his sweet tone from before.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I completely forgot that you were a speaker for this seminar. I didn’t even know I was coming until last night when my roommate asked me to come with her. I would’ve warned you if I knew. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in this position.”

My apology was sincere seeing as I promised Spencer we would never run into each other. In fact, it was the sole reason we agreed to stay in this relationship - the mutual guarantee that we wouldn’t be put in these situations, but here we were.

In this fucking situation.

“No, it’s fine. I was just surprised to see you, that’s all.”

Spencer could tell I was flustered and truly apologetic for my ignorance, and he was almost about to reach out and rub my upper arm comfortingly when his actions were cut short by the looming presence of his fellow guest speaker.

“Hi there. David Rossi.” He introduced himself by extending his hand into the space between us. “And you are?”

“(Y/n) (y/l/n).”

_ _ _

“(Y/n) (y/l/n).”

It was like watching my worst nightmare come alive.

If I ever imagined introducing (y/n) to my work family, this certainly wasn’t the plan. I just hoped to God that if Rossi and (y/n) ever met again in the future, he wouldn’t suddenly obtain my eidetic memory and recall her familiar face from this exact moment.

“Got any questions for us?” Rossi coyly asked her. Once more I prayed to God that his profiling skills hadn’t just improved drastically and that he could sense the tension between the two of us. It almost seemed like he asked that question just to tease her because he knew what was really happening. But then again, that was probably just my paranoia speaking.

She looked mortified when he asked this, even glancing back at me briefly as if to ask for a reprieve. “Um, no not really. I-I was just telling Dr. Reid that I’ve applied to audit his class before, but was always rejected.”

“That’s a shame. Well, maybe I can look into that. You know, put in a good word for you.” Rossi chuckled, nudging (y/n)’s shoulder to suggest he’d help her. She only shyly laughed and took a step closer to the door.

“Oh, no you don’t have to do that for me.”

“Nonsense. I’d be happy to do it.”

“Thanks, Mr. Rossi.” With a thankful smile, (y/n) pranced out the door, closing the lecture hall door sharply behind her without one look back.

“Nice girl,” Rossi acknowledged. “But it would be nicer if she could be on time.”

I laughed, despite not finding (y/n) to be at the butt of the joke to be funny at all.

“Um, are you actually gonna put in a good word for her?” I followed Rossi with my eyes, searching his face with a desperate hope that my question didn’t reveal too much.

“Yeah, why not? I figured you would’ve liked to have another student audit your class.”

“Yeah yeah…” I murmured in false agreement.

Herein lies the trouble.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

PART 4 COMING SOON!

comment to be added to the taglist!

taglist:

@andiebeaword @rexorangecouny @rip2myyouthjpg

#serpent of eden #spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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