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iheartcake123 · 1 year

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☁️control-sunato banda☁️

a/n: i haven’t been able to find any banda fics so i chose to write one lmao. im currently obsessed w him🤭

warnings: spoilers from S2 i guess (?), mentions of killing

Masterlist

sunato banda x reader

you sighed loudly as you leaned against a wall, watching people enter the prison to also take part in this next game that you joined.

jack of hearts.

the game? prison cell.

the voice from the speakers explained the rules. you had to guess the suit that appeared at the back of the collar that the game made everyone wear before beginning.

you couldn’t see your own suit and after each round the suit would change. you also couldn’t use reflective object to see what suit you had and no violence could be used to kill people. each round would last for an hour and at the end of each round you needed to step into a cell and guess which suit you had. if you guessed wrong, then the game would end for you. your collar would explode and you’d die.

the difficulty of the game was that the game was a test of who you could trust. the jack of hearts had also joined in the game secretly as a participant. and the game would only be cleared once the jack of hearts is killed.

simple right?

not quite.

the game could potentially go on forever if everyone just worked together. however, that was never going to happen. eventually, someone would cave in and lie which would cause a chain reaction of betrayal.

you just hoped the people who had joined the game weren’t all idiots. you wanted to live.

some people chose to work as a big group, while others went into pairs.

you scanned the room, examining each person up and down. you were trying to figure out who best you could trust. and also who could be the jack of hearts.

it was easy to determine which people were more trust worthy than some of the others. however, you were drawn to one person in particular. a guy who was slim, tall and wearing a blue shirt. he looked familiar but you couldn’t quite pinpoint where you’d seen him before.

he was talking to another participant and it looked like they were going to form an alliance. you wanted to join them too, out of all the participants you wanted to study them the most. especially, blue shirt guy as he had a strange but also a strong aura to him.

for a second you debated on how you should play out your personality. would you show them your real personality or your fake one? you needed to keep your guard up. you had to stay in control.

so, your fake one it was.

“let’s be friends” you had overheard the blue shirt guy say as you approached the pair.

“excuse me, i was wondering if i could join and make your pair a trio?” you asked sweetly putting on your innocent face “my name is y/n and i haven’t been able to find myself a partner. i get a little nervous in big groups so i’d prefer a trio”

“yeah of course, we call all tell each other which suit we get with each round! is that okay banda? my name is matsushita by the way” the one who paired up with who you now knew as banda said with a small smile.

“why not? we can all be friends” banda smirked eyeing you up and down.

“we can start with you matsushita. if you turn around we can tell you your suit” you smiled at him and he nodded before turning around.

you briefly looked at banda who without hesitation told matsushita his suit.

“it’s spade” he said and you nodded in agreement.

“yes you got spade” you confirmed and matsushita bowed as a thank you.

“we can do banda next” matsushita suggested and banda hummed in agreement before turning around.

“your suit is club” you told him and matsushita confirmed it.

“turn around” banda said after turning around to face you.

keeping up your act you acted surprised at his monotone voice as he told you what to do.

you brushed your hair out the way and banda read what suit you had.

“heart” he said and once matsushita confirmed it you thanked them both.

it would’ve been a lie if you said you weren’t a teeny bit nervous about the first round. you still didn’t know if you could fully trust the pair that you had joined.

however, after you made it through the first round, you started to ease up.

you knew you couldn’t fully trust both of them but for now staying with them was the best move considering at any moment someone could buckle and start killing people.

banda and matsushita were talking about it. the only way the game would start getting anywhere is if the jack of hearts starting killing people or if someone afraid of getting killed, starts lying to kill other people. until that starts happening, everyone would be stuck in this prison forever.

“what’s your problem? hurry up and tell me, fucker!” another participant yelled as he threw his ‘partner’ on the floor.

in an instant you went over to help him up, banda followed aswell.

“are you okay?” you asked and the guy nodded.

banda came from behind and began to help the guy up so you decided to step back a bit.

“tell him ‘club’” banda whispered and you just about managed to hear him.

without reacting you moved back to where you originally stood.

you were impressed but you didn’t let it show. that was smart move from banda to get things moving.

the game had only just begun.

as you expected, people began to buckle under pressure after the first person died.

as each round went on, more and more people began to die.

‘friends’ turning on ‘friends’.

you also began to notice different patterns from certain participants. people were generally easy to read, it was all about keeping a close eye on the small details.

you had also made a friend. his name was chishiya and when you weren’t with your ‘teammates’ you were with him discussing different possibilities. you both understood each other well and around him you felt as though you didn’t need hide your real personality.

“you can’t be good hearted in these games. you have to play your cards right in order to win. being a part of this world gave me control and i intend to keep it that way. the jack of hearts will slip up somewhere and that’s when i’ll catch them out” you told chishiya as he nodded his head.

“im impressed, you aren’t who i thought you’d be” he commented with a chuckle and you sent him a quick smile before walking off to avoid your ‘teammates’ seeing you with chishiya.

“what shall i get?” you mumbled to yourself as you looked at the snack selection in front of you. the area was quiet and you were the only one in there.

your hand reached for a pack of crackers and as you grabbed it, you felt someones presence behind you.

when you turned around you pretended to be shocked and jumped back.

“you scared me!” you put your free hand over your heart as you let out a fake laugh “did you need me to tell you your suit?”

as you waited for his answer you kept the fake smile plastered on your face.

“you’re still playing that game y/n?” banda sighed with an evil look in his eyes “it’s been 10 hours..don’t you get tired?”

“huh? what do you mean?” you then tried your best to keep the smile on your face.

“i know it’s all fake. i could see right through you from the start. especially when you heard me tell that guy to kill the bully. you acted like you didn’t hear me tell him but, i know you did. you know, there aren’t many people who’d approach someone like me” he continued and you eyed his hands as he pulled out a blade.

he held the blade to your side and you finally let your natural personality show.

“so what? you think im the jack of hearts?” your smile dropped and you looked him dead in the eye.

“you know what i think? you’re brave. for you to willingly join a murderer in a game like this…it confirms that you’re not innocent” he smirked and pressed the blade to cause some pressure on the side of the body where he held it.

a lightbulb went off in your head and you finally realised why banda looked so familiar. he was on tv and in the paper for killing 4 women. he was supposed to be serving a life sentence, yet here he was in this alternate universe. everything about his murders was calculated, he was the one in control.

“unbelievable, you’re THE sunato banda” you let out a laugh followed by a sigh “i saw you on tv, you’re not as bad and scary as they made you out to be..i’ll admit though that you are harder to read”

“tell me. why are you participating in the games in this land? until now, i haven’t been in a land as beautiful as this one” banda pulled the blade away and held it up to your cheek instead.

“control. in this world, im in control of everything and i intend to keep it that way. you and i both know that if you wanted to use that blade on me, you would’ve done so already” you lifted your hand and pushed his arm away so that the blade wasn’t near your cheek.

banda smirked and stepped backwards.

“you and i are quite similar” his eyes flicked between your eyes and lips.

“i think so too” you leaned in, lips almost touching his ear as you whispered “except, that im the one who’s in control”

without a second thought, you brought your hand to cup the side of his face and moved your lips towards his. you then closed the gap and pressed them onto his. surprisingly, banda reciprocated the kiss and his hands moved to your waist where he held you in place.

once you both pulled away from the kiss, banda smugly grinned, the grip on your waist tightening slightly.

“if i were you i wouldn’t be so sure that you’re the one in control” his voice was low and he then let go of your waist with some force before silently walking away and exiting the room.

had you ever been the one in control around him?

#alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader #kdrama imagine #alice in borderland imagine #banda sunato #sunato banda #banda x reader #banda imagine #writing #kdrama x reader

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nomoreusername · 2 months

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A Few More Seconds (Part 2)

Pairing:Aris x female reader

Summary:When mistakes are cleared up confession are made.

Requested by @just--a--random--human--being

I wish I knew what was happening with him, but he wouldn't really talk to me. While it's true that he never did seem to stay long and would sometimes trip over his words in the most adorable way, he just wouldn't say a word now. He wouldn't say hi when we passed by each other or converse with me by the gardens. He wouldn't even look at me. He used to sometimes stare at me and look away when I smiled, but he currently refused to make any sort of eye contact. The longer this went on the more I was convinced that I did something to upset him. I did everything to find out what, but whenever I was less than three feet from him he was off. If by chance I did get the opportunity to speak he nodded his head as he did before giving a one word response and an excuse to just run off.

Staring at him from across the fire, I kept hoping he would turn his head just a little bit. Still, whatever he was speaking to Harriet about must be incredible because he was talking at a thousand miles a minute, though I couldn't hear what he was saying.

As I was completely immersed in him I felt someone drape something over my shoulders. Looking over, I saw my little brother making a show of being a gentleman. He kept trying to get this girl to notice his “pure soul” but wouldn't talk to her. Not in the way I hadn't really talked to Aris. He wouldn't even find an excuse to say hi.

“You’re a little special, aren't you?”I sighed.

“She’s not even looking,”He groaned, ignoring my statement as he sat beside me.

“You have to show that you want her. The more you show off how good you could be the more it looks like you don't like her,”I pointed out.

“But it's obvious,”He complained.

“It's obvious to you. People see different things as different signs so the best thing you can do is be upfront,”I advised.

“I can't,”He mumbled, putting his hands on his knees.

“You can do whatever you put your mind to. I think you should go for it before you never can,”I recommended.

“The way you go for Aris?”

“That's different,”I defended.

“How?”

“It just is, okay? I don't have to explain myself to you.”

“Explain yourself to him.”

“See? This is exactly why I don't give you advice,”I sighed, looking over at Aris only to see that he had left. Handing his jacket back without actually looking at him, I stood up and made my way past people. Mumbling a few, “excuse me’s,” I was past everyone before they could even blink. Going to Harriet by the very edge of the group, I asked her where Aris was.

“It's probably not a good idea to tell you,”She shrugged.

“I just need a minute. It’ll be quick,”I promised.

“It's still not a good idea,”She repeated.

“Please? I really need to talk to him,”I pleaded.

She sighed as she thought it over. Still, I refused to leave until she said something, anything.

“He's by the ocean,”She finally answered.

“Thank you, Harriet. I’ll see you tomorrow,”I told her, already making my way there. Moving through the darkness, I got further from the blazing fire and closer to the chilly sea. Stepping onto the sand, when it tried to sink I threw my sandals off before looking left and right. Then, I stared at my feet to see footprints going to the right so I guess that’s where I’m going.

Speed walking, I kept switching between looking at the ground and ahead of me. All I ever got was more footsteps and more darkness. I couldn't give up though. I don't know why I chose tonight, but it was the right one. I just know it.

Walking faster, as I glanced up again to see a figure staring at the sea I knew that I was correct to trust my instincts.

“Aris?”I asked, approaching him. He turned his head but just as he met my gaze tried to leave. Before he had the chance I grabbed his sleeve.

“Aris? Did I do something?”I finally asked, not letting go. He just stared at the ground before shaking his head. “Then, why won't you talk to me?”

“I can't,”He mumbled.

“I’ve been trying to though. I want to talk to you,”I pleaded, holding on tighter.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,”He whispered.

“Please, Aris. I miss you,”I begged.

“I can't be around you. Not now.”

“Tell me what I did,”I repeated.

“You didn't do anything wrong. That's the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I can't be around you right now. Not for a while. Now until . . .”He trailed off.

“Not until what?”I asked, stepping closer.

“Not until I know how to get over you.”

“Over me? As in romantically?”I hoped.

“Yeah. Romantically,”He confirmed.

Now I didn't know what to think. He feels what I feel, but why doesn't he want to? Am I that awful? Is there something else that I’m not getting?

“Why do you need to get over me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you need to get over me?”I asked again.

“Because you're with someone, and that someone isn't me?”

“I am?”

“Yeah.”

“Who am I with?”

“That guy that always gives his hoodie.”

“People think I’m dating him?”I asked after processing his words.

“I mean not really, but I do,”He mumbled.

“I don't know whether to cry, laugh, or throw up,”I said half to him and half to myself.

“Are you not?”He asked slowly.

“No. I am not dating my brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah. That's my brother,”I repeated.

“Oh,”He mumbled. “Now I feel kind of stupid,”He admitted.

“I don't think you're any kind of stupid. Maybe you're not the best at seeing signs when people like each other, but you're definitely not stupid,”I shrugged.

“I just thought since you always had his hoodie that you were, you know?”He defended.

“That's his lame attempt at trying to get the girl he likes to notice him. So far, it's not going that well,”I explained.

“So you aren't with anyone then?”

“Not unless someone wants to tell me something,”I said, grabbing his hand.

“I do,”He muttered, his face turning red as he looked at me. “I like you. I really like you, probably more than I should. I think about you more than I should too, even if you're nowhere near me. I like that you're kind, I like that you're smart, I like that you're funny, I like that you're accepting, I like that you know how to make people feel better without trying, I like how easy you are to talk to once you figure out how to get the words out, and I like the way you look in the moonlight.”

“That's really sweet, Aris. You're really sweet,”I whispered, as close to him as possible.

“I am?”

“Yes. You are,”I nodded. “That's one of the reasons that I really like you,”I admitted.

“You do?”

“I do. I have for a while now. I just never knew how to tell you, but when you stopped talking to me I knew I had to be able to. I knew I had to figure everything out before I couldn't.”

“Have you?”

I didn't answer as I put my arms around his shoulders. Standing on my toes, I pressed my lips to his cheek before pulling away.

“Yeah. I have.”

#aris jones #aris x reader #tmr aris #aris tmr #happy ending #fluff #love confessions #the maze runner #one shot #part 2/2

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hinatastinygiant · 5 months

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12 | Surm

Pairing: Uzui x Fem!Reader

The Emptiness You Left

Y/N'S P.O.V.

As you look up at Uzui, you finally realize just how ginormous he is. He's nearly a foot taller than you, and he's a lot broader. His biceps alone are as big as your head which makes you feel so small in comparison.

"The thing is... there's something else that happened on the day Suma found me. I know that she knows but I don't think she told anyone. It's not that we've been doing anything behind your back, but..." you begin to trail off, not quite sure how to finish your sentence. "My brother is still alive."

Uzui looks at you with a confused expression, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Wait, what do you mean your brother is still alive? You said you had a sister. Doma killed her," he questions.

"Yes, but I have a brother too. He's still in that cult house," you tell him, your voice barely audible.

You watch as Uzui's hands ball into tight fists, his eyes darkening as they narrow at you.

"Are you fucking serious, Y/N?" he whisper shouts, slamming one of his hands against the wall right by your head. Your whole body runs cold as he cages you in, his towering figure blocking any exit.

"I'm sorry, Master Uzui," you say, your voice quivering. "I promise you that he isn't part of the cult. He's trying to-"

"Why wouldn't you tell anyone that he's still alive, huh? And you knew this whole time?" he seethes, his lips pursed tightly.

You nod, unsure of what to say in this moment. You doubt anything will calm him down right now.

"You idiot! We could have gone in and saved him by now! Why don't you use your fucking brain for once, Y/N!"

"I didn't know what to do. I-I wanted to be the one to help him," you plead, tears filling your eyes. "If he's brave enough to stay there and he's younger than me then I have to save him. It's my responsibility! I'm his only family!"

"What if we could've gotten him out and then sent him somewhere safe? He wouldn't be trapped anymore. That's what you want, right?"

"I-I guess. But he wasn't ready to go right away," you explain.

"He's not ready now?" Uzui argues, his tone becoming more and more harsh with every word.

"No. He knows our mom was killed by demons, and he knows about the cult and Doma, but he hasn't seen it for himself yet," you reply, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"Y/N, are you even thinking right now? As his sister you can't let him stay in a place like that," he shakes his head. "Where is this cult house?"

"I don't know but I'm not going to say," you shake your head. "Please, I don't want you to get involved. This is something I have to do myself."

"Where is it, Y/N?" he demands, glaring down at you.

"Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you. I ran away without looking back," you say.

"Damn it, Y/N, if I find out you're lying to me I'm gonna be pissed," he growls. "How many followers does that cult have?"

"I don't know," you admit. "At least fifty or sixty, probably. That's all I could count when I was there. There's always people coming and going."

"Going, huh? And you said Doma was the one who killed your sister?" he asks, beginning to relax his tone a bit.

"Yes. He is the leader. Or at least, that's what it seems like," you admit. "You're not really going to go in, are you? They'll kill you."

"So you think a group of humans can take me down?" he smirks.

"I didn't say that," you shake your head as he backs away from you. However, before he can get too far, you reach out and grab onto his arm.

"Let go of me," he commands, glaring down at your hand.

"Please, don't go. Please, Master Uzui, I'm begging you. Just let me take care of it," you plead, looking up into his eyes.

"Y/N-" he begins before you cut him off.

"I can do it," you assure him, your grip on his arm tightening. "I'm strong. Promise me that when people go into that cult house, I can go, too."

"No," he says without giving it a second thought.

"Master Uzui, I can't let you put yourself in danger. You mean too much to so many people," you argue.

"And so do you. I won't allow it," he replies, his tone firm. "That's the end of this discussion. Now, come on, let's go back inside."

"I don't want to. Not after what just happened," you shake your head, your heart sinking.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. It was just a little argument," he shrugs, pulling away from you and making his way to the back door of the building.

Begrudgingly, you follow him and approach the three women already asking him where the two of you disappeared to.

"We just went for a walk. It's okay. No need to worry," he says as you both take your seats.

You can feel Suma's eyes burning into you, waiting for a response, but you swallow down a mouthful of rice on your plate, and begin eating.

"Y/N, I'm sorry if I came across harsh. I didn't mean to get so upset but we just really wanted you to have a good night," Makio apologizes to you.

"It's alright," you nod. "I shouldn't have acted so dramatic anyway."

Uzui shoots you a warning look and you turn your head away, focusing on your food instead.

"Are you sure everything's alright, Y/N? We can go somewhere else if you'd like," Hinatsuru suggests.

"This place is fine," Uzui insists. "But I must apologize for taking my leave so early."

"What?" Suma pouts. "You're leaving?"

"Unfortunately, I have some urgent business to take care of."

"At this time of night?" Hinatsuru questions.

"I'm afraid it cannot wait until morning," he replies, and his voice holds a dangerous edge.

Suma glances over at you again while Makio and Hinatsuru exchange worried looks.

"Okay," Makio says slowly, her tone skeptical. "If you have to."

"I will meet you back at the estate," he nods. "Make sure to keep a close eye on this one," he then adds as he gets up from the table.

"Why? Hinatsuru asks softly. "What's going on?"

"Y/N has a lot of secrets, apparently. She's been holding out on us," Uzui states as his eyes flash to yours.

"What?" Hinatsuru gasps quietly.

"I'm not going to get into it right now," Uzui says, and then he turns his attention back to you. "But you better not let her out of your sight. Not even for a moment tonight."

With that, he spins on his heel and walks out the front doors of the restaurant, leaving the four of you in silence.

"What'd you do now?" Suma grumbles, not wanting to sound mean but still upset.

"Nothing," you whisper, pushing the rest of your food around on your plate.

"What do you mean 'nothing'? Master Uzui was very upset," Hinatsuru says.

"It's a long story," you mutter, still unable to look at any of them.

"Well, it's a good thing we've got all night," Makio replies, crossing her arms over her chest.

"He found out about my brother," you sigh. "And now he wants to go and save him."

"But you don't?" Suma asks.

"I do," you nod, and Hinatsuru lets out a frustrated groan.

"It's complicated..."

The Emptiness You Left

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blairwritingscript · 2 years

Text

Let me introduce you to-

WORD COUNT: 884

PAIRING: Avengers x Reader

SUMMARY: A new avenger was expected to come soon but the avengers never guessed who it was gonna be.

WARNINGS: None?

A/N: It's my first time writing that's why it's rather short and maybe a little bad. I'M LEARNING so pls don't sue me :)

♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;:♪

Another boring yet busy day for the Avengers compound. All of them are in the m meeting room, listening to Steve as he just finished explaining what to do on one of the upcoming missions for the second time.

"So who understands how to get inside of the base now?" steve said. only Bucky, Nat and Clint raise their hands. "Honestly.." Steve mumbles under his breath as he turns back to the board ready to point everything out again.

"I don't see why we can't just knock them out, it would make things so much easier!" Thor exclaimed loudly.

Tony rubs the bridge of his nose, sighing. "To many guards. that plus we need to keep out of sight by any cameras that could give away our spot" Thor only hums at that.

"But what if we found another blind spot that only requires for some of us to enter? it would be easier instead of having to put all of us in the same spot where we could become vulnerable" Wanda thinks out lout as she casually listens to some music.

"She does have a point, maybe we should split up into two groups? team A goes in and team B stays outside and keep watch" Nat says to which Sam replies "Maybe team B could distract them."

At some point everyone was either just talking over eachother or not interested enough and talking to others, poor Steve gave up and sat down in his chair.

But then all of that stopped as a certain eyepatched killjoy entered the room, someone seemed to follow after him but they couldn't quite see them due to their smaller frame.

"Avengers" Fury greeted them with a firm nod. He continued "As you all know there was going to be a new avenger soon and that day is today." Nearly all of them sat now straight up in their chair.

Fury stepped aside "Let me introduce you to-"

"OH MY GOD!" Wanda basicly screamed, hitting peter's arm as the only reaction coming from him was a mouth wide open as he was gawking at you. You gave them a small wave.

It took a few of them some time to figure out who you were while others still had absolutely no clue why they were reaction so dramaticly.

"Care to share with the group who that is?" Bucky asked confused about all the fuzz going over one person.

"y/n l/n.." Peter spoke quietly as if he didn't believe it.

"what?" Bruce asked.

"IT'S Y/N FUCKING L/N!" Wanda yelled again. she stood up and made her way over to where you were slightly cowered away.

"You mean that singer that was on the news last month?!" Sam says excitedly also making his way over to you.

"As i was trying to say" Fury says annoyed "let me introduce you to y/n l/n, i think she will be of great use in the team with a skill set like hers"

"Hold up, what kind of skill set are we talking about?" Steve wonders, looking you up and down. "she is just a singer right?"

"i.. ehm" you hesitate for a moment, clearing your throat. "i can clone myself actually, i use it for my performances sometimes.." you look around the room. that's when you started to overthink everything. they were so quiet, why was no one saying anything? Was it wrong for me to come here? they must think i'm being ridiculous.

You closed your eyes tightly, not being able to stand the awkward silence surrounding you. You felt a sudden weight on your shoulder. slowly opening your eyes you realize Steve is standing in front of you with a gentle smile on his face.

"It would be great to have someone with such abilities on the team" he said reassuringly.

"How about a little demonstration huh?" Tony stood up too, crossing his arms and watching you with a slightly judgmental look in his eyes.

"Alright" without having to really do anything a sort of blob splits itself from your body onto the ground and quickly forming a perfect duplicate of yourself.

"That's amazing" Bruce puts on his glasses, apparently very interested by what you just did. "how?" he asks shortly after.

You shrug "i actually really don't know."

Peter had apparently come to his sense a while ago and had come to stand near you, still not saying much. it was kinda cute in a way, but you were already used to these kind of interactions with fans. Your also used to fans that are way to close like Wanda but honestly it's cool having hero's so close to you.

Tony was still looking a bit skeptical "Do you have limits?" He asked to which you shrug once again.

you thought for a moment "I never cloned more then 27" looking to your side the clone did the same thing. you decided that it was time to let it back inside, placing a hand on your replica it morphed back into you without a trace "I'm sure that i can do more then that though"

"I'm sure you can! maybe we can train with them" Thor said loudly with his booming voice. "Hey cap, maybe she can help us in that mission"

"Maybe it's better if we train her properly first before introducing her to any real action." Steve looked around the room. "Let's just take it easy and get to know eachother"

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#avengers x reader #avengers fanfiction #marvel x platonic reader #marvel x reader #steve rogers x reader

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kellanved-ammanas · 1 year

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Valentine's Week Fluff Day Two: Spy/Soldier - Valentine's Day

Day two of @dontneedadispenser Valentine's event.

The saying went ‘all was fair in love and war’ or something like that, implying that they were similar. The problem was, Soldier knew war and was good at it, but how was he supposed to navigate love? The goal of war was to win but how did one win at love? Have those feelings be reciprocated? Go on a date with the loved person? Marriage? None of those felt right. What did he know though? He was a soldier, good at war and love was not war no matter what any silly hippie saying wanted to claim.

Normally he would talk about matters of intellect and/or emotion with Spy. He was good at those things and could often explain them in a way that made at least a little bit of sense to Soldier. But how was he supposed to ask Spy the best way to fulfill his desire to make Spy his Valentine without blundering it? It simply didn’t seem possible as Spy would likely figure out his intent if he were to try to lie and say he was thinking of asking someone else to be his Valentine; Spy was smart like that. And Soldier didn’t like to lie to his allies anyway, it was un-American. So… what should he do? Well there was one other person on base who claimed to be good at romance and he just so happened to be related to Spy so he was probably Soldier’s best bet.

Finding an opportunity to talk to Scout proved to be difficult as he for some reason didn’t have a proper daily routine – how did he live his life so? – and often was with others when Soldier did find him, making a private conversation impossible. But finally, after a pointer from Demo, Soldier changed his morning patrol – an uncomfortable change but with Valentine’s day less than a week away, it had to be done – so he could wait by the base’s doors for when Scout came out for his morning run.

Scout not having a set time for this meant he had a wait for a while but Scout did eventually come out. He paused at the sight of Soldier standing by the door. “Uh, hey pal, you need something?”

If he weren’t already standing at attention, Soldier would’ve shifted to do so. “Yes. I wish to court Spy. Specifically I wish to ask him to be my Valentine this upcoming Valentine’s day. I however do not know how to do this.”

“So… you’re asking me?”

“Yes, private, I am asking you. Why else would I have sought you out?”

“Uh… yeah but why would I know how to help you with that?”

“Because I have heard you claim to be good at romance and he is your father and thus presumably you would know. If you do not however, I guess I will just have to figure out how to do it by myself.” Soldier turned to leave but before he could take more than a step though, Scout ran around to intercept him.

“Nah, nah, I can totally help. I am an expert when it comes to romance, trust me. And my dad, yeah, I totally know what you should say when asking him to be your Valentine or whatever.”

“Very well then. I’m listening.”

“All right. First, you need a bucket of chicken…”

Valentine’s Day

Finding a live chicken to put in a bucket had been the hardest part and didn’t seem to make much sense. At first he’d thought that Scout had meant a bucket of fried chicken but that couldn’t possibly be correct as Spy had expressed distaste for eating fried foods and specifically fried chicken in the past. Grilled chicken had been his next thought but again, Soldier had never seen him eat any even when it had been available. A gift of food he did not like wouldn’t make sense and thus that left only a live chicken in a bucket.

Maybe Spy wanted a chicken as a pet? Soldier could understand that, the hen he’d finally managed to acquire was quite pretty. She did not like the bucket much though and he had almost no choice but to put a lid – with air holes – on it to make her stay. After double checking to make sure it was secure, he lifted up the bucket and started for Spy’s room.

As usual, it took Spy a few seconds to answer upon knocking, but it never took too long. “Ah, greetings, Soldier. It’s always a pleasure. Come on in, I suppose.” He stepped back and Soldier followed him in.

Spy’s room was quite big, certainly more than big enough to house a pet or two. So that had to be what the chicken was for. Especially since Spy didn’t currently have any pets, making so that it must get lonely in here at night. In that case, it was quite thoughtful of Scout to suggest getting him an animal companion.

Before getting to that though… once the door was closed, Soldier straightened himself as he turned to face Spy. “Hello, cupcake!” Scout had insisted he call Spy a French nickname here but Soldier liked ‘cupcake’ better. “Va te faire foutre*.” No doubt he’d pronounced that wrong. Scout had insisted it was a very nice flirty thing to say though and thus he had to say it to Spy here so hopefully it had at least still been understandable. “Will you be my Valentine?” He lifted the bucket, holding it towards Spy.

Spy didn’t take it though. He took a sharp step back instead.

Had Soldier done or said something wrong? Perhaps he’d mispronounced the French so bad he’d accidentally said something offensive. That was French’s fault for being such a nonsensical language… but still Soldier had tried so hard. He’d wanted this to go right so badly.

“Why would you… wait no. Scout put you up to this, didn’t he?” Spy sounded almost angry. Though it was always hard to tell with him. Not that it was ever easy with anyone but always harder with Spy. Perhaps because Soldier wanted him to like him so bad.

“Correct. I asked him for help on what to say.” Soldier pulled the bucket back towards himself hugging it.

“You asked him for… oh. You are serious in your Valentine’s request?”

“Yes, sir. Did I do something wrong?” He wanted to deflate but would not let himself. He could handle defeat even in the pursuit of love. … Perhaps he should’ve stuck solely to war though, it was what he was good at.

“Y-- no, no you did nothing wrong.” Spy stepped closer to put a hand on Soldier’s shoulder. “I would love to be your Valentine.”

“Really?” Soldier almost couldn’t believe it. He’d been so sure he’d done or said something wrong.

“Really. Word of advice though, in the future, don’t ask for Scout’s help in such matters.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s just say he is not the most reliable of people. By the way, what’s in the bucket? It’s a gift, I assume?”

Soldier stepped back so he could pull the lid off the bucket. “A chicken.” He titled it, allowing said chicken to jump down to the floor. She ran a short distance away before stopping to shake out her feather and start preening herself. She really was a pretty chicken.

Spy looked to be admiring her too. “And why did you bring me a bucket with a chicken in it when asking me out?”

“Scout told me to.”

“He specified a live chicken?”

“No. He could not have meant anything else though because you do not like to eat chicken. Perhaps that is because you want one as a pet.” That made sense actually because Soldier would not want to eat raccoon meat after owning them as pets for so long. “I made sure to get one that will lay eggs too. So you will have free eggs from here on out.”

“I suppose I will. Thanks… I think.”

“You are very welcome! But… now that you are my Valentine, what are we supposed to do next?” Soldier had never really considered what would happen if he got this far.

“We go on a date. I assume you did not make reservations anywhere, correct?”

“Correct.” A date did sound nice though.

“That is fine. I can handle that part.” Naturally, Spy was better at these types of things. Hopefully he would be willing to teach Soldier some now too.

*This means 'go fuck yourself'.

#my writing #tf2 #team fortress 2 #dnadvalentines2023 #dnadteamfluff23 #Spy/Soldier #freedom fries #fluff

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modern-inheritance · 3 days

Text

Escape pt 2(3???) Snippet #2(?)

Once again bashing out random bits and pieces that I want to be in here and dumping them on tumblr while I ignore the connections.

also, saw a post from an editor talking about how we write for ourselves so we should write all the fluffy stuff and the breakfast scenes we want, but then take them out before we put the official version out there.

I...I don't do that? That's why these escape series pieces are always so fuckin long. When I honestly write for myself and if I'm going to end up posting it, I'm not cutting those parts out. I know a lot of what I write is basically those cut pieces. And that's what I LIKE to write. So if they're too long...iunno, don't read my completed stuff I guess?

*confused and somewhat distressed shrug* I don't know! I write what I write and I don't take out the floofy bits Why am I trying to defend my style I dont know!

~~~

“Enough.” Eragon didn’t respond. His hand wavered over the elf’s skin as he hovered over a burn that had been revealed as the inflammation of the last gash had faded. “Enough! Eragon!”

Saphira broke him out of it. She lowered her head and nudged her partner’s shoulder, nearly toppling the youth over.

It took him a handful of seconds to acknowledge them even then, clumsily dragging himself up to his knees from the hunch he had landed in before leaning heavily against Saphira’s snout. Eragon could hardly see straight. He could see two of everything, more if he didn’t focus on trying to draw the images together. His hands felt cold even against the warmth of Saphira’s scales.

“B’wnah–” He swallowed hard. Someone passed him a canteen, and sunwarmed water soothed his tacky mouth. “We’re not done yet.” The elf’s back swam in front of his eyes. There was more skin than before, that was certain. Bruised, yes, but the new patches were far more assuring than the mess of burns, gouges and cuts, exposed muscle and…and things he couldn’t explain and didn’t want to know what caused them.

But there was still…still so much. How long had it taken them to just assess the damage? To figure out what needed healing? Eragon set to the task as Brom pointed out the worst as he found them, checked her legs, her arms. The evidence of wounds healed before, others left to time….

And still there was so…so much red. There was so much that needed more than they could provide, had to be covered with shiny, thin membranes of skin that would have to repair itself without magic, the places Brom had shooed him away from with promises that he would stitch them or dress them, to save his and Saphira’s strength.

Eragon didn’t know the woman. But…he…he felt like he knew her, felt like he had some connection to her, felt that he and Saphira had been fated to meet her, and felt that he could have known her for years before. And seeing her like this? Hell, if he had seen anyone like this….

He just wanted to hold on to her. Wrap her in his arms and promise her he wouldn’t let anything else like that happen.

…Granted, from what Brom had said about the elf, that probably would lead to him getting his head stuffed into the closest hollow tree trunk she could find. If he didn’t give her some warning at least.

Brom was speaking. Eragon dragged his eyes away, back to his mentor’s face.

“–ed to move. We can’t do anything more right now, and we can’t stay in one place for too long.”

Murtagh’s voice cut through. “No! Are you mad? Eragon needs to rest, just look at him! He can’ even sit up straight without holding on to Saphira!” Eragon dimly heard the young man moving forward, saw the flash of dark cloth as he gestured toward the pair. “And Saphira! She needs to sleep too, you said yourself she’s giving energy to help cast all that healing magic!”

‘I’m strong enough to fly.’ Saphira murmured to her Rider. Eragon gave her a wan smile from where he was still half draped against her head and scratched under the corner of her jaw. The low hum that vibrated through his chest spread warmth through his bones. ‘You did well, Little One.’

He rocked his face against the jagged crest of one of her eyes, felt the snick of her lid closing against his cheek. ‘She’s still hurt.’

The humming intensified, soothing through his mind as well as his body. ‘But she is better than before. She will live.’

“Eragon can sleep while we ride.” Brom pushed back. “And Saphira’s been dozing on and off, she’s got enough in her to fly far enough that we stay ahead.”

“If you think for a second that we’re going to be able to keep him from falling off Cadoc–”

“I’m fine.” Both men snapped their heads around when Eragon rasped out the words. The youth was shakily fastening the snaps on the back of the elf’s shirt again before gently transferring her off his knees and onto her side. “I’ll…I’ll be okay sleeping in the saddle. Saphira says she’s good to fly.”

Brom gave the boy an appreciative nod. “Good.” Murtagh swore and scrubbed his hands through his hair, stalking off to the horses. “I’m not a fool, whelp. There should be a cave system not far from here, big enough to hide all of us for at least half a day. We can hole up there and rest properly.”

The young man clicked his lips in disdain. “Oh, but of course, it’s not like that’d be the first bloody place they’d search, but who am I to argue! I just lead the bloody horses!”

“It’s not well known. Help me with her, and you–” Brom pointed to Eragon, who was struggling to his feet. “There’s a ration pack in your saddlebags. Eat what you can. And keep drinking that water.” The boy nodded and stumbled towards where Cadoc was tethered. Before he could pass, Brom stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and leaned in. “Good job, boy. I’m proud of you.”

Eragon couldn’t make his eyes see just one horse, so he couldn’t really trust his other senses. But he thought, for a moment, that the usually gruff and rumble tone in his mentor’s voice had taken on a sincere rush of warmth. It felt like his own chest glowed at the words, and then the exhaustion flooded in again and all he could do was nod numbly. He clumsily clapped the man on the arm before he staggered off to eat and collapse into Cadoc’s saddle.

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shiningwonderland · 1 year

Text

Otoya Ittoki (Repeat)

Translator: Ladylancer (twitter: utatranslations)

Proofreader: Rasenth (twitter: agnadance)

Editor: Whitney (twitter: whitormiss), Snail

August — Allegro na Koudou

As summer vacation begins, many of my classmates leave to visit home.

Tomochika Shibuya: Well then, even though it's bothersome, guess I'll go home.

Haruka Nanami: Oh right, you’re headed back home today.

Tomochika Shibuya: Yep. I’ll be gone for the week…. Hey, aren’t you leaving too?

Select the Phrase!

I was planning to. (+ 0 Love +5 Music)

Haruka Nanami: Ittoki-kun said he always stays in the dorms during summer vacation, so we agreed to spend it practicing together….

Tomochika Shibuya: I see. You decided against going home to keep Otoya company… You’re such a nice person.

Haruka Nanami: N-not really. There's nothing to do when I go home, so I thought it would be better to practice.

We want to practice (+0 Love +10 Music)

Tomochika Shibuya: Wait, you can’t be planning to practice daily?

Haruka Nanami: Yeah. Ittoki-kun isn’t going home either, so we decided we would practice...

This is our chance (+10 Love +0 Music)

Tomochika Shibuya: Chance? Are the two of you planning to practice and raise your intimacy over the break?

Haruka Nanami: Intimacy…? With everyone gone for the break, it's easier to make reservations for recording rooms.

Tomochika Shibuya: That’s what you meant? How boring.

Haruka Nanami: ???

Tomochika Shibuya: Haha, don’t worry about it. I read into it too much, is all.

...What was that all about?

Tomochika Shibuya: Really though, practicing everyday… I feel like I’m gonna fall behind. Alright, I’ve decided. I’ll only stay home for three days and then I’ll come back to practice.

Tomochika Shibuya: I’m one of your rivals after all. I won’t lose to you!

With that, Tomo-chan left for home.

Knowing her, I’m sure she’ll be practicing a lot at home as well.

I’m going to do my best too.

Every day, Ittoki-kun and I work hard practicing together.

He sings the songs I write, and together we refine them.

Now after he sings, we go over the score, giving each other our opinions face to face.

Watching Ittoki-kun get better each day makes me work harder to aim for the top.

But skills can’t be gained quickly that easily, so I keep myself from trying things that are too far beyond our abilities.

That’s why I don’t know how much I should say to him.

Select the Phrase!

Say it honestly (+10 Love +15 Music)

Haruka Nanami: Ah.. about this part here…

I speak up with a timid voice and Ittoki-kun turns to listen to me intently.

Stay silent (+0 Love +10 Music)

On second thought, I’ll keep observing.

Find the right words (+0 Love +0 Music)

I stare at Ittoki-kun, trying to find the words to explain my thoughts.

Otoya Ittoki: Phew, I wonder if it’s coming together now.

Ittoki-kun mutters to himself as he looks at the music sheet.

I open my mouth a bit, but I’m at a loss for words, so I look down without saying anything.

Otoya Ittoki: Huh…. what’s wrong?

Haruka Nanami: Oh, ah, nothing.

Otoya Ittoki: Oh… okay then….

Otoya Ittoki: ...So you think I should soften my voice a bit here?

Eh…? He figured out what I was having trouble asking?

Haruka Nanami: ... Ah, yes. That’s what I was thinking. But, it’s difficult for singers to soften their voice without it making it too hard to hear…

Ittoki-kun, I’m so happy that you thought the same thing.

Otoya Ittoki: It’s fine. I’ve improved as well.

After that, we begin improvising melodies, putting lyrics to them, and singing them on the spot.

We write down the melodies we like and sing them again the next day.

We repeat this process every time.

Then, one day...

Ichinose-san calls me to the back garden.

Tokiya Ichinose: I apologize for asking you to come out here.

Haruka Nanami: It’s fine… May I ask why?

Tokiya Ichinose: I wanted to apologize again about what happened at the water polo tournament…

Haruka Nanami: Oh, no apologies necessary. It wasn’t that big a deal…

Tokiya Ichinose: No, I take full responsibility. I dislike not doing so…. That’s why… here…

Ichinose-san pulls a binder from his bag and hands it to me.

Tokiya Ichinose: These are scores of new songs by my favorite composer that I just happened to get my hands on the other day. If you are interested in them at all…

Haruka Nanami: T-this is…

It’s a binder containing sheet music for the new CD produced by one of the most popular music production teams.

Haruka Nanami: Such a special thing. I-is it really okay for me to have it…?

Tokiya Ichinose: Yes. It will be more useful in your hands than in mine.

Haruka Nanami: T-thank you so very much! I promise I’ll take very good care of them. These are such treasures! I need to enshrine them...!

Tokiya Ichinose: I am pleased that you are happy with it. Now I feel like I have fulfilled my responsibility to you. I will take my leave then…

Haruka Nanami: Yes! Thank you again!

Ah! To get my hands on something like this.... I’ll have to study this closely and carefully!

After that, I head to the classroom to practice with Ittoki-kun, but…

I want to look at the sheet music I just received as soon as possible and it makes it hard to concentrate.

Otoya Ittoki: And then, this part here… Nanami, are you listening?

Suddenly, all I can see is Ittoki-kun’s face.

Haruka Nanami: A-ah, what is it?

I turn my face away from him quickly.

Otoya Ittoki: Nanami, is something bothering you?

Haruka Nanami: Oh, ah… sorry.

Otoya Ittoki: You know, earlier…. Were you meeting with Tokiya?

W-what? Is he angry? He must be angry because I’m so inattentive.

Select the Phrase!

Yes (+0 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: He wanted to make up for what he did, so he gave me these scores.

I'm sorry (+20 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: I’m sorry. I was given these really nice scores.

Haruka Nanami: I’m interested in them and I want to read them soon. That’s why… sorry for being so out of it.

I frantically apologize but Ittoki-kun just chuckles and smiles.

H-he laughed at me...

Actually... (+10 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: To apologize for the incident at the water polo event, he gave me a set of really nice scores, so I’ve been distracted...

Haruka Nanami: But being distracted is not good either. I’m sorry.

Otoya Ittoki: ... A score, huh? That’s just like him… Is that all?

Haruka Nanami: Yes! That’s all~

Otoya Ittoki: I see. That’s all it was… Hey, do you remember what I said after our re-test?

Haruka Nanami:Um…

Back in June, Ittoki-kun beat Ichinose-san at the recording retest.

And he said…

He wanted to… take me… on a date.

Since he never brought it up and summer vacation had long since started, I thought he had forgotten about it.

He remembered…

Haruka Nanami: Do you mean…

Otoya Ittoki: Yep. Please go on a date with me!

Haruka Nanami:A date…

I am fifteen years old but have never been on a date, even though I know what the word means…

What is one supposed to actually do???

Otoya Ittoki: Ah, though I said date, I mean, you know, as a way to deepen our relationship as partners…

Otoya Ittoki: Plus, remember what Rin-chan said? To make the best music and lyrics you have to refine your sensibility and that we can’t just learn from textbooks.

Otoya Ittoki: So... can we go somewhere together tomorrow?

Oh, I see.

Haruka Nanami: O-okay. I... I’ll go with you.

Otoya Ittoki: Ah, then tomorrow, let’s meet up in front of the school at eleven A.M.?

Haruka Nanami: Okay! Tomorrow... at eleven.

Going out together… Thinking about that, I was so excited I could barely focus on practice for the rest of the day.

Haruka Nanami: Haaah... I’m going out with Ittoki-kun tomorrow. What should I wear? What do you think, Kuppuru?

Kuppuru: Meow.

Haruka Nanami: Oh right. You wouldn’t know what to do either, huh?

Tomochika Shibuya: I’m home! Ah, I’m beat… Hm? That cat is back. Kuppuru, right?

Haruka Nanami: Yep!

Kuppuru is a cat I helped on the day of the entrance ceremony. I found him shivering in the back garden in the rain, so I nursed him back to health….

He grew attached to me since then and now he visits my room two or three times a week. Kuppuru listens to me as if he understands what I’m saying, so now I always talk to him.

Tomochika Shibuya: Why not let him stay here? I won’t tell the teachers.

Haruka Nanami: Eh? Is that okay with you?

Tomochika Shibuya: Yeah. He’s fun to have around and, as long as he doesn’t mess up the room, I’m fine with him staying.

Haruka Nanami: Thank you, Tomo-chan!

Tomochika Shibuya: It’s fine, it’s fine! I’ve been practicing so much that I’m never in the dorms anymore, but as long as he’s with you, you won’t be lonely, right?

Haruka Nanami: Okay... oh, that’s right. Tomo-chan, you practice from sunup to sundown. That’s amazing!

Tomochika Shibuya: Well I have to or I’ll fall behind, considering how high the bar my partner is setting is.

Tomochika Shibuya: “I made it easier than before so you should be able to sing it,” he says. Yeah, easy if it was a song for a choir! How am I supposed to sing all those parts with my chest voice?

Tomochika Shibuya: I can’t believe how many times makes me change registers while singing. There are parts where I have to hold a note for longer than needed, notes that lower and raise by half-steps, I can’t sustain my breath, and...

Haruka Nanami: Whoa...

Normally, one sings with their “chest voice”.... You naturally sing from the chest, but as you sing higher, it shifts.

That shift is known as the “head voice”. The point where it changes from the chest to the head is known as a “vocal register transition”, or a passaggio.

If you sing using a mix of the head and chest voices, you can make your high notes have the same quality as your chest voice. But...

It’s easier to switch into head voice if you have the abdominal strength to support it, but…

It’s said that the vocal register transition is the hardest point to get right.

Tomochika Shibuya: The composition teacher professional said before, “I create songs while thinking of the artist I’m making them for.”

Tomochika Shibuya: I was moved when I heard that. My composer doesn’t have one single bit of that consideration in him.

Tomochika Shibuya: Putting aside the chance that he may just be making it difficult for difficulty’s sake, he thinks that what he’s making is simple. He’s so inconsiderate.

Tomochika Shibuya: Even so, I’m still going to give it my all singing it. I mean, I think his songs are good, but I wish he would think about me.

Tomochika Shibuya: Well, either way I will sing my ‘soul’ into this song!

Tomochika Shibuya:... Haruka. Make songs that you can put your feelings into and are fun to sing.

Tomochika Shibuya: I believe you can become that kind of composer.

Haruka Nanami: Yes. I’m doing my best. I will become a composer that thinks of the artist first.

The singer is putting their soul into my song, so I’ll make sure not to slack off. Absolutely…

No matter what kind of songs I write, I’m sure Ittoki-kun will be able to sing it.

That is why… I have to write the best song, one that will make Ittoki-kun shine the brightest…

Tomochika Shibuya: Ah~ man! I wanted to be your partner!

Tomo-chan hugs me tight.

Haruka Nanami: T-Tomo-chan.

Tomochika Shibuya: Won’t you switch for me?

Haruka Nanami: I can’t go that far… When you become a pro, I promise to write you a song!

Tomochika Shibuya: Haruka, you really are cute… Thanks, it’s a promise.

Tomo-chan pats my head.

I have to write a song for Ittoki-kun that makes him shine. For that reason, I have to learn more about him.

That’s why tomorrow’s outing is a good chance.

I’m sure that I will see sides of him that he doesn’t show at school.

I got nervous and showed up an hour early…

Waking up early this morning, I asked Tomo-chan to help me with my outfit, and she did my makeup a little bit too.

I could have stayed at the dorms longer, but then I got nervous about being late due to some sort of trouble…

Otoya Ittoki: Eh..? Nanami? Why are- it's only ten…

No way, Ittoki-kun?!

Select the Phrase!

W-what a coincidence…. (+10 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: Y-yeah… It was just by chance…

Otoya Ittoki: Well, since we’re both here, let's head out early.

Haruka Nanami: Y-Yes！

… I got here early. (+20 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: Me too… I was excited. Before I realized it, I was here.

Otoya Ittoki: I figured I was arriving too early… To think that you did too… Seems like we are similar in that way.

Haruka Nanami: Y-yeah. Seems like it.

Huh? Was this the right time? (+0 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: No, I think we’re supposed to meet an hour later, but I came here early….

Haruka Nanami: Me too. But… I’m glad that I didn’t make you wait. Otoya Ittoki: I didn’t want to make you wait either. I guess we had the same thought. Hahaha!

We arrive at the amusement park, Saotome Kingdom, inside the school grounds.

Otoya Ittoki: Alright, what should we ride first? Nanami, is there something you want to ride on?

Haruka Nanami: Let’s see…

Select the Phrase!

The Surprise House (+0 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: Then, let’s go!

Haruka Nanami: Yes!

We assumed it would be like any other surprise house….

As expected from a school facility.

The surprises are certainly more than we bargained for.

Otoya Ittoki: To think, the “Surprise House” was actually the principal’s second home...

Even though the brochure calls it “Shining’s Shock and Surprise House”... it’s actually his home.

Visitors are free to explore the house and if the Principal is home you can get a handshake and pictures.

… But the inside is like a maze, with stairs turning into slides and the walls flipping.... Washbasins drop from the ceiling, water rushes out of drawers when you open them, pitfalls....

It’s like a little trick mansion...

It seems that the principal mainly lives there…

I’m amazed that he can live in such a complicated home…

How about… The House of Terror? (+20 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: ....The House of Terror…. Nanami, aren’t you scared?

Haruka Nanami: N-no. I’m fine.

Otoya Ittoki: Say something if you get scared. I'll keep pulling your hand. Leave it to me!! Let’s go.

Otoya Ittoki: …

Otoya Ittoki: ...

Haruka Nanami: ...

T-that was scary… I thought the House of Terror was just a regular haunted house.

I didn’t think it was a museum of true horror stories…

Stories ranging from people becoming anorexic through dieting too much to troubles with frightening neighbors.

Recountings from people who had stalkers to someone getting trapped in an elevator for twenty-four hours.

The scariest of them all though, was the story of the person who dropped out because they made Shining angry.

Even though they had the talent and ability, they angered Shining once.

It said that after that, no agency would take them and they were forced to give up their dream and return to their parent’s home.

Every detail was reproduced vividly and makes me wonder if I’m next…

Either way, it makes me really scared…

The roller coaster (+10 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: The roller coaster. Nice choice. Let’s go!

Haruka Nanami: Yeah!

Before today, I never thought of a roller coaster being such a dangerous thing.

Otoya Ittoki: Ahh, that was tough.

Haruka Nanami: Y-yeah. But… we managed to clear it.

Otoya Ittoki: I guess.

As expected of a Saotome Academy roller coaster, it was not ordinary by any means.

When you get in, everything is normal until the safety bar comes down.

Each seat has a camera and microphone, and the speaker begins playing a melody as soon as the ride begins.

Apparently, you have to properly sing and get an interesting reaction while the roller coaster makes a lap.

If you don’t, the safety bar won’t unlock, and you have to go another round.

Singing on the ride is so hard, we finally passed on the fifth lap.

Otoya Ittoki: I don’t want to ride another roller coaster for a while.

Haruka Nanami: Me neither...

Otoya Ittoki: What should we do next? What’s good…

Haruka Nanami: Um….

As I look around, the large Ferris wheel catches my eye.

There shouldn't be any tricky, shocking gimmick on that…. Right?

Haruka Nanami: How about the Ferris wheel…

Otoya Ittoki: Eh…?

Haruka Nanami: ...? Do you not like them? Then I’ll find something else…

Otoya Ittoki: No. It’s not like that… Okay, let’s go.

Haruka Nanami: But…

Otoya Ittoki: It’s fine! I’m fine.

I wonder. It seems like he’s forcing himself… I hope I’m just overthinking things.

From the cabin, I can see the entirety of Saotome Academy.

One rotation takes twenty minutes—a long time for two people to be alone together.

Otoya Ittoki: ... Ugh. The scenery is pretty.

Haruka Nanami: Yeah…

Despite saying that, Ittoki-kun has had his eyes closed the entire time.

Otoya Ittoki: ...

Haruka Nanami: Wow, the school looks so small. Oh, I can even see the dorm. Ittoki-kun, look, look!

Little by little, the ground seems to shrink, looking almost like a miniature town. How cute.

Otoya Ittoki: ... Sorry. I’m at my limit.

Haruka Nanami: Eh...?

Ittoki-kun suddenly stands up, sits down next to me, and grasps my hand tightly.

His hand was shaking slightly...

Haruka Nanami: … Ittoki-kun, could it be you have a fear of heights?

After I ask that, Ittoki-kun’s face turns red as he nods slightly.

Otoya Ittoki: Aw man. I wanted to show you the cool side of me today!

Otoya Ittoki: When I was a kid, I fell out of a tree I was climbing. I’ve had problems with heights ever since…. I thought I was doing better.

His voice is firm, but his shoulders are still shaking slightly.

Otoya Ittoki: Sorry. Can I... borrow your shoulder?

Saying that, Ittoki-kun pulls my shoulder closer to himself.

I reach over and pull Ittoki-kun in a bit closer.

Haruka Nanami: ... Okay.

Otoya Ittoki: I must look really uncool right now.

Haruka Nanami: That’s not true…

I can feel Ittoki-kun’s warmth from where he’s touching my shoulder.

We have touched so many times before, and we’ve been alone together in the classroom so many times, but...

Why am I so nervous today? Only the location and clothes are slightly different…

Sporty, casual clothes suit Ittoki-kun, unlike the school uniform.

But… The rosary hanging down from his neck looks somewhat feminine and stands out to me.

A small cross hangs at the end of the crystal beads, glittering beautifully in the reflected sunlight.

He pinches the cross with his fingers and continues wrapping it in the crystals.

It looks like a habit he does when he’s stressed. He’s doing it over and over again.

Ah, again… I can’t help but chuckle and smile to myself.

Otoya Ittoki: Eh… what is it?

Haruka Nanami: Oh, nothing… I was just thinking how you’ve been fiddling with that this entire time.

Otoya Ittoki: Oh, this?

Haruka Nanami: Ittoki-kun, I was surprised to see that you wear a rosary. It’s unexpected. Are you a Christian?

Otoya Ittoki: Ah... yes. My mother was… She was Christian.

Haruka Nanami: Was…?

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah… She passed away a long time ago… She made this herself.

Haruka Nanami: Ah… sorry.

I shouldn’t have asked.

Otoya Ittoki: It’s okay. It happened when I was very young. I don’t even remember her face.

Otoya Ittoki: Plus… later I found out she wasn’t my birth mother.

Haruka Nanami: What do you mean?

Otoya Ittoki: My birth mother left me with her older sister after I was born…. She went missing a short while later.

Haruka Nanami: So, she might be alive somewhere…

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah. I did some searching. About fifteen years ago, a plane crashed somewhere in a desert…

Otoya Ittoki: It appeared to be that she was on that plane, so there’s barely any chance she could have survived.

Otoya Ittoki: My foster father died from an accident before my foster mother died…. Well, I don’t actually know who my birth father is.

Otoya Ittoki: He might still be alive somewhere, but he probably doesn’t even know I exist. I heard that my mom kept me a secret from him.

Otoya Ittoki: I used to think “If I become famous, I can meet him”, and I began aiming to become an idol.

Otoya Ittoki: Though…. Now I’m having so much fun refining my singing and dancing, I don’t mind if I never meet him. That’s how I feel about it.

Haruka Nanami: ... You were always alone…

I was also alone because I wasn’t able to make friends, but I always had my parents. Ittoki-kun… you didn’t have that…

Otoya Ittoki: Don’t make that face. It wasn’t that lonely.

Otoya Ittoki: I grew up in an orphanage, so there were other kids there, and the matron was like a mother to me.

Otoya Ittoki: Plus… I don’t know who, but there was someone who helped me.

Otoya Ittoki: I wasn’t alone at all. And right now… you are in front of me, Haruka.

Haruka Nanami: Ah...

Otoya Ittoki: Oh…? D-did I just call you by your first name?

I nod, staying silent.

Otoya Ittoki: ...!!!

Otoya Ittoki: I can call Masa and Natsuki, even Tomochika by their given names, but it’s kind of embarrassing for me to use yours.

Otoya Ittoki: And… I always wanted to… but…

Otoya Ittoki: I never quite could...

Haruka Nanami: ...

Otoya Ittoki: That’s why… Is it okay if I use your name, just for today?

I want to say yes, but my voice won’t come out. Blushing, I give a small nod.

Otoya Ittoki: Really? Yes! Thank you, Haruka!

‘Haruka’... I feel my chest warm with every use of my name.

Otoya Ittoki: Also, you can do it if you want. Call me Otoya, I mean.

Haruka Nanami: Eh….

Call Ittoki-kun by his given name….

Thump-thump.

Otoya Ittoki: You don’t want to?

Haruka Nanami: No… I… uh…. Yes… I...

Haruka Nanami: O….

M-my heart….

Haruka Nanami: O… to….

It’s three syllables... They won’t come out.

My heart is pounding. I can’t breathe.

… H-huh? My consciousness… is… fading...

Otoya Ittoki: Haruka! Breathe, Breathe!

... Gasp!

Ittoki-kun gets up in a rush and grabs my shoulder.

Otoya Ittoki: Ah, you scared me there.

With a sigh of relief, Ittoki-kun sits back next to me.

Otoya Ittoki: Sorry. I got ahead of myself.

Haruka Nanami: No... that’s not it.

I’m the one who has to apologize for my cowardice.

Haruka Nanami: U-um… L... let me try again…

Otoya Ittoki: It’s okay. Don’t stress about it.

He places his hand on my head. Large and warm, a man’s hand…

A small melody begins to unfold in my head, following the steady rhythm of my beating heart.

Otoya Ittoki: But one day, when you want to call me by my given name...

He gazes at me with tender eyes.

And then...

Shining Saotome: LOVE! IS FORBIDDEN! ABSOLUTELY! NO GO NO GO NO GO!!!

Haruka Nanami: !!!!!!!!!

Otoya Ittoki: !!!!!!!!!

The principal’s face appears in the carriage window and mixes in with the view of the sunset.

Otoya Ittoki: Eh, Principal Saotome!! But, we’re... this—top—wha—...eehhhh!

Shining Saotome: HA HA HA~! I thought this may happen, so I installed rockets into my boots!

Looking closer, flames are erupting from the principal’s shoes.

Shining Saotome: Anyways, I am sure neither of you are in love, correct!

We both shook our heads from side to side rapidly.

Shining Saotome: Oh. How odd. I could have sworn I smelled Love Air in this area.

Shining Saotome: Hrm… hrm, hrm, hrm. This is a Special Class Love Air!

Shining Saotome: I see. It’s in the next carriage over! My mistake! SORRY SORRY!

Shining Saotome: BUT, if love blooms, you will be expelled.

Shining Saotome: Don’t forget that. Forget nothing!

Shining Saotome: Now, goodbye. Adieu. Keep your friendship healthy.

With those words, the principal departs to the next carriage.

Otoya Ittoki: … What just….

Haruka Nanami: He watches over us even in places like this. He really cares for his students.

Otoya Ittoki: ... He’s definitely going beyond just “watching over us”.….

Otoya Ittoki: “Love is forbidden”. What a troublesome rule…

Haruka Nanami: Huh?

Otoya Ittoki: Nothing. We still have plenty of daylight left, so let’s make the best of it!

Haruka Nanami: Yeah!

After that day, I met with Ittoki-kun in the classroom nearly everyday.

But for the rest of summer vacation, I was never able to call him by his name.

I hope the day I can call him Otoya-kun comes eventually.

Mini Game

Ringo Tsukimiya: This time around, I want you to try a higher difficulty than before. Don’t worry. I’ll teach you properly~!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Hehe. I may look like this, but I’m a pro, you know! I’m quite good.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Though it’s the same song, I want to show you how the impression one gets can change with how it’s played. Learning this will help you complete your own compositions.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Alrighty. Music, start!

S Rank

Otoya Ittoki: Ah... what should I do? I can’t even look you straight in the eye... I’m partnered with such an amazing girl. Haha. I’m so happy.

Haruka Nanami: That’s my line. I’m happy to be your partner.

Ittoki-kun is a warm, happy and open-minded person who loves music…

As a composer and as a person, I am honored to be paired with such a person.

I definitely want to debut together, because I want the world to hear Ittoki-kun’s song.

Chapter End

#Repeat #otoya ittoki #otoya repeat

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lemonadecandy · 2 years

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Meeting Zhongli [Part 2]

This is a continuation of the Zhongli scenario I had posted earlier.

Note: This is just a one-shot scenario. The premise is that 'you' get transported into the game and journey through Teyvat along with the traveller. This is a reinterpretation of the Liyue Archon Quests. Hope you enjoy~

The tension hadn’t decreased even a little bit. I knew my stomach couldn’t handle any food in this state so I ended up not eating beyond a few bites. But, after he did leave, I could feel my nerves relaxing a little. Lumine and Paimon were done too, so they started bidding Childe a farewell, who stayed back to try and figure out how chopsticks work. I would have been very amused by his comment, and how the little things of the game are still applicable here, but my mind still was unstable from what I had to just sit through.

I should have seen this coming, especially after that incident in Mondstat, all that I have learned from that god forsaken game isn’t the complete truth here. Venti hadn’t seemed this terrifying, I could definitely sense power, but it wasn’t intimidating. I guess being the strongest does make a difference. I followed the traveler out of the restaurant, my legs felt like noodles, like I could lose my balance any second. I really didn’t want to go, my body kept signaling this to me too. I wonder if Lumine sensed that aura? Or Childe? Aren’t they veteran warriors?

Zhongli stood on the pavement next to the main road. Looking at him from a distance finally gave me the opportunity to appreciate his striking figure. He was taller than I had imagined, and inhumanly handsome too, but then again, that was true about everyone here. That aura of his was still terrifying, but strangely charming and enchanting, he truly was the definition of a ‘god’. If the gods back home were real, would they be just like him? Not that it matters anymore. I hung back while the traveller approached the geo archon, far enough that I wouldn’t draw attention to myself but still close enough to hear Zhongli brag about Liyue. The conversation was going just as I remembered, so I started diverting my attention to my surroundings. Everything had been going so fast that I hadn’t had even a moment to look around at the city, also there was no way I was ever meeting those reptilian eyes again. Liyue, it was definitely livelier than Mondstat, and you could feel the commercialism in the air. The crowd had a life of its own, the vibrant clothes shone in the morning light and the people moved like enchanting shoals of fish. There is chatter between sellers and buyers, old friends catching up, new friends made. It's busy for sure, but the hustle and bustle brings a life to this city that I wouldn't want it to be without. A certain nostalgia hit me, I could so clearly remember when Liyue was first released in the game and how I had fallen for it at first sight. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the background music that played in the city and felt my anxiety from before ebb away.

My mood became a bit cheerful as well, but before I could enjoy myself too much, I heard Zhongli suggesting that they go find the materials for the rite of parting. First stop was the Jade Mystery, it was the shop where you could bid on the stones, sadly, we were only going there to buy some noctilucous jade for the ceremony. As we were reaching the store, I suddenly remembered that we were gonna make a trip to Mondstat… to check if the stones… were… pure. Damn, this ordeal isn’t gonna be over for a while, huh? After reaching the conclusion I had anticipated, we left to Mondsat by a carriage, sadly, those teleportation waypoints cannot be used right now, because why would the traveller want to explain their use and make everyone’s lives more comfortable? I sat with Lumine, while Zhongli sat opposite us, to avoid eye contact and any conversation I just pretended to be asleep. They seemed to have bought the act as Zhongli asked, “Has your friend been offended by me in some way? If so, I apologize, I didn’t mean to.” “Why would you think so?” Paimon asked in confusion. “Well, she has been avoiding me…”. Even with my eyes closed I could feel all the three of them glance my way. Are they planning to bitch about me or something? “She’s like that to everyone, doesn’t talk until it’s important.” Lumine sounded a bit dejected. I didn’t really mean to be rude to her and Paimon, it’s just that even looking at them keeps reminding me of this fucked up situation and I feel like I could lose my mind thinking about it. “I see.” I had ended up falling asleep for real and was woken up by Paimon screaming in my ears. The three of them were chatting about something that I couldn’t quite make out. “You are awake!”, Lumine looked jolly. “Mmmmh”, I groaned, trying to drive all the drowsiness away. “So, what were you all talking about?” “Mr. Zhongli was telling us some stories about Liyue’s history.”, Paimon replied. “Ah, interesting.”, I said. Does the history, like the characters, also have deeper layers than what was presented?

As I looked around, my eyes were suddenly drawn to what Zhongli held in his hands, it was a dumbbell. No wait, it was ‘the’ dumbbell. “Memory of dust.”, I let out in a mumble. It was that puzzle thing Zhongli’s friend, Guizhong had given to him. I realized that I had said the name out aloud and covered my mouth in shock as I looked up. Lumine and Paimon looked confused, but the expression on Zhongli’s face was clearly suspicion. Uh-oh.

P.S: I have found some inspiration, so I will be continuing this 'scenario' or whatever it's called. Please feel free to give advise and any requests you may have!

Part 3:

#genshin impact #zhongli #genshin zhongli #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #zhongli scenarios #zhongli x y/n #genshin angst #genshin oneshots #reader insert #x reader

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crymeariveronceagain · 1 year

Text

*in a terrible brooklyn accent* click the link if you dare i need to ramble rant and rave like a woman driven to the brink of insanity

i know i didn't deserve the way they treated me. i know i didn't deserve it. i know it inside and out. but my heart hasn't learned. my brain can't do it. all i think when i look someone in the eyes is "shit what if it all ends up awful again" over and over and over. every interaction i have is stilted because of the way they treated me. every last one of them hurt me in some way. every last one of them damaged some part of my heart.

the first one told me i was too happy and now i worry about being too positive and driving everyone away. he took my love and smiled as he crumbled it into dust. he held my hand and he smiled at me and then it must not have mattered quite enough.

the second one didn't give me real reasons, just fake ones, accusations that he'd never brought up before, something i thought was a joke that he decided was splitting grounds. he laughed when i cried in front of him.

the third one didn't care. she was my best friend for years and then one day decided that i wasn't worth bothering with. i guess i should have expected that when she dated my ex less than two weeks after we broke up. when she spread rumors about me around like butter i wasn't surprised but stars did it hurt. her little brother asked if i'd abused my ex, and i think i should have expected all the problems she brought with her.

the fourth one joined in, after i'd lost friendships defending her, lost love because she'd told me that our friendship was doomed anyways, didn't hang out with me without someone else around and still let me think she was my best friend. she never understood why i couldn't be around him, never understood why i didn't like being a third wheel when all she ever did was stare into her boyfriend's eyes.

the fifth one hurt the most. because he didn't do anything at all. he never did anything. he just never asked if i was okay. and maybe i'd have survived that if he hadn't been my closest, truest friend. maybe i'd have been okay if he hadn't been my brother in everything but name. maybe i'd have been okay if the sight of him doesn't make me want to throw my arms around him and ask him how he's doing and if he cared and why he never stood up for me when i'd never have let anyone say that shit about him.

and now every single time i look at someone new i just see it, over and over, replaying like a broken record.

my mom says someday i'll forget all about them.

my mom says that someday they'll be so far in the past i'll laugh to think how worked up i got over them.

i hope she's right. i hope i never have to think about how my old friends are out in the world. i hope i never have to look my old boyfriends in the eyes. i hope i never have to smile at my oldest closest fondest friends.

i dont know why it's not fading. feels like a raw wound, with a rope, dragged back and forth over my skin.

am i sitting in my pain, am i trying to stay where it hurts?

am i frozen, stuck?

am i too weak, too small, too tired to keep fighting?

should i get over myself and go demand that my old friend explain? Should I ask the question that's always on the tip of my tongue?

Why wasn't I worth it to you?

would that solve the problems or would that make it worse?

would that make me cry or make me free? would that save me or ruin me? would i live or would i die?

would i be able to smile when this nice friend of mine comes and sits with me at the cafeteria? would i be able to hold a conversation with the guy i like? would this solve my problems or make them worse?

I feel like the line I'm walking is straight through health and brokenness and I'm tottering from one side to another and I want to let it all dissappear into the past but I can't figure out how to stop it from happening.

I can't figure out how on earth to solve the problems.

Usually I'd say that I need therapy.

But I still haven't picked up the phone to call the office. Because what do you say?

Hi, can I speak to your least terrifying therapist who knows about fucked up friendships and relationships and anxiety and like, emotional issues and burnt out gifted kid shit and problems and problems and problems?

Sounds foolish but that's all i have to say.

hi, can you help me?

#not fandom content #IN THE SLIGHTEST #depressing #personal #fricked up friendships #SO PERSONAL #ANGSTY #rant #rant rant rant #sorry to spring this on your guys #but eh #i needed to put it somewhere

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squishmallow36 · 2 years

Text

Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Forty

Word count: 2.5k

Tw: I'm going to warn for internalized homophobia but it's not the worst I've done

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-fruity-frog @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @books-over-boys @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @cotyledon-tomentosa @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125

On Ao3 or below the cut!

Fitz PoV

With Keefe safely in the closet, I almost let myself exhale.

And then I see the damage he did to my room in his short time out here.

Even after I’ve fixed the dresser he managed to completely empty.

Well, everything’s a wrinkled mess, but at least it’s in there.

Someone knocks at my door, and my blood runs cold. “Hey, Fitz.”

I curse under my breath, and open the door, knowing she’s going to know everything in a matter of seconds.

“How are you doing?” Biana asks, leaning against the door frame.

I refuse to give her an answer. Why can’t people let me relax for half a second?

“Someone’s grumpy today. Got it. I’ll leave you alone.”

She actually leaves me alone, closing the door behind her and everything. For the first time ever.

I flop backward in my bed, staring at the glowing stars on my ceiling that were put up there when I was six and have yet to come down.

I sigh.

“You know, this is the exact reason I don’t let you out. Because now I have to worry about cleaning up my room because someone decided to be a five-year-old gremlin because he needs more notebooks to draw in the dark when he has a perfectly capable Imparter.”

Keefe bumps the door with his knee. At least that’s what I’m hoping it is. It’s a new sound, so I haven’t quite figured out what it means yet.

“Need I remind you that this was your idea?” Most of the time, that’s what he wants, so it’s not a bad guess.

He bumps the door again with his knee, lower to the ground this time though.

Apparently I’m still missing his message, because crinkles some paper, and I notice he slipped a note under the door.

What can’t be expressed by beating the crap out of my poor closet door?

It says, You forgot to make sure Biana left.

“What are you talking about? Well, I guess writing would be more accurate. But either way, I literally saw her leave.”

Preposition, the tiny, annoying part of my brain reminds me.

Keefe slips another note, this one crammed in a corner, so it takes a second to decode.

Trust the Empath.

“Biana, are you in here? Or is Keefe just messing with me? And if you’re just going to stay invisible to spite me, I will remind you that I have glitter and that won’t vanish immediately. I remember that game of Base Quest where we found that out.”

Biana weighs her options and blinks into sight, sitting on one of my dressers in the darkest corner of my room, ankles crossed like she’s trying to appear more innocent than she is.

I curse.

“I was suspicious, okay? You don’t spend this much time in your room. Well, ever since you stopped staring at your ceiling because of Sophie, at least,” Biana explains.

I know Keefe’s going to annoy me until I release him from his closet, so I dismantle my barricade again and open up the door.

Crawling out like he hasn’t seen the sun in days, even though he was just in my room, Keefe waves at Biana, smiling like an idiot.

“I thought you’d been kidnapped.”

He’s totally like, “I’m locked in a literal closet. Was I not kidnapped?”

I know this without even looking at him.

“That was the idea.”

Biana curses. “That changes things.”

I clarify, “That was his idea.”

Keefe’s pouting behind me. I don’t even need to confirm this with evidence.

Yeah, I’m going to throw you under the bus. It’s been a long six days, mate.

“Why...why didn’t you at least tell me?” Biana asks, her focus on Keefe, hands on her hips.

“From a statistical standpoint, the fewer people that are involved, the safer the secret is. The only reason he involved me is because he needed a closet. And before you start asking why he isn’t living in your closet instead, he spent a summer in my closet in Level Three, so we’ve dealt with this before. Although he was less annoying and several inches shorter back then.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but--who am I kidding? I love bursting your bubble. I found out about that the first weekend after midterms. I told Mum and Dad, and they agreed they wanted to give him a nice summer.

I make a displeased noise, or I imagine I do.

“Let me help,” Biana pleads. “I can sneak him food easier than you can.”

On the one hand, I can’t wait to get rid of him. On the other hand, I’m really worried this is going to set off a chain of dominoes ending in the Neverseen knowing where he is.

“Just don’t tell anyone. Don’t. Tell. Anyone. Do you understand me? Don’t trust anyone.”

“Stars, you sound like Dex.”

Keefe might be trying to warn her about how we don’t talk about Dex here. I can sense there’s a disturbance behind me. But for all I know, he’s tearing up my room again.

Biana doesn’t care, instead asking Keefe, “How’ve you been, Lord Hunkyhair?”

I glance at him, and watch him gesture at the closet and then his hair.”

“I know, right? Living both literally and metaphorically in a closet. That takes skills. I can fix that hair for you. It won’t end up pink, I promise.”

He holds up an entire rainbow of notebooks.

“Fine. I won’t dye your hair. It’s only temporary, you know.”

I can feel him staring daggers without even looking.

Biana leads him out of my room and into her bathroom for a makeover, leaving me to my own thoughts.

My thoughts are not a place I want to be right now.

I’m tempted to just distract myself with something, but I know this might be the only free time I get for a while, so I should at least do something productive that I’d be afraid to do if Keefe were in here.

I rub my temples, feeling a headache coming on.

Prepos--nope!

I can’t keep all of these thoughts and feelings stuck in my head, otherwise Keefe’s going to keep getting blasted with wave after wave of them.

I shuffle around, looking through the notebooks I donated to Keefe, trying to find a blank page. Of course, there isn’t one.

Imparter it is, I guess. Dex’d figure out how to write stuff down on his. It can’t be that hard.

On the bright side, I can break an Imparter so much faster than I can get rid of paper.

I manage to not break everything and open up Google Docs.

Staring down that stark, blank white piece of paper makes me want to close it and do something else.

My intros for school are always weak, but I’ve almost gotten it down to a science.

Hook, book, bridge, thesis.

How hard can that be when you don’t have a book?

Answer: very. Go write a book and use that as your book. It’s faster.

Another thing. Formal voice isn’t going to be a thing here. It’s going to be a rant, which is not typically considered formal writing.

Who cares? It won’t be graded. Just write.

Emotions can be challenging to navigate, especially when you’re a teenager that’s part of a rebel organization dealing with another rebel organization run by your best friend’s mom that also includes your older brother that you wish you could forget about all the while not being able to unhear prepositions because of a certain redheaded Disney nerd. But, hey, what do I know? In the story, “Sorry, this is the only way I know how to do intros,” by Whoknows Whotheauthoris, somewhere my brain got a little messed up. I believe that writing all of this down will help me make sense of it all, because I don’t have enough space in my head for all of this at once.

First, the anger. I always start with anger. The reason why is a question for another time. I’m mostly angry with Keefe right now, but that’s just because he’s what we call a wanker and knows exactly how to push my buttons. I am also angry with Biana because she can find out anything about anyone and sometimes I just want a little privacy, okay? Then I’m a little angry with Dex because of reasons which I choose not to write down. Additionally, I’m just perpetually angry at Alvar because he’s one bloody traitor if there ever was one. Finally, I’m also kind of angry with myself for reasons I don’t want to admit.

I stop for a second, considering.

You know what? If my soul is going to be poured out onto paper, or whatever this would be called, I might as well say. I really want to go and beg Dex to listen to me and explain how I made a giant mistake, but I’m sure he hates me now, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it this time. I had my chance. Besides, there are so many other things I have to worry about, it’s not a viable option for me.

I see the preposition, but decide to leave it. Dex is the only one that truly cares, and I’ll be Exiled before I let him, or anyone else, but him in particular, read this.

Next, we might as well cover exactly why it isn’t a viable option for me. It boils down to this: I’m a Vacker. And there’s nothing I can do to change that. We don’t have Bad Matches. Yet there’s still a tiny voice in the back of my mind trying to persuade me to tell society to go--.

Yeah, if this is discovered, that’s not exactly the best sentence I could include.

While I’m trying to think of how to rephrase, Biana decides it’s the perfect time to start blasting some music. I almost immediately recognize it as part of Dex’s favourite playlist. I had it stuck in my head for a few days. I don’t really know if it’s his favourite anymore, but it was a couple weeks ago.

Probably because it was the only human music he really knew because it was Sophie’s originally and he copied it down.

If I traded it all, if I gave it all away for one thing, just for one thing? If I sorted it out, if I knew all about this one thing, wouldn’t that be something?

Yeah, Biana, you can stop sending those subliminal messages.

It’s not very subliminal, if you ask me. Her persuasive message seems pretty clear.

Oh. Stars. Did Keefe tell her? I want to think that he hasn’t but, I also have very few reasons to trust him at the moment.

By the end of the song, I’m left wondering, what if I told society to go--?

The logical voice in my head cuts it off before I get a chance to fully form the thought. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t linger.

So I keep on writing.

If a Vacker were to be a part of a Bad Match, they’d likely be disowned. It hasn’t happened before, to my knowledge, but maybe someone was intentionally forgotten. Even if their parents support their decision, then someone in the family tree would obviously distance themselves from me. I mean, the hypothetical Bad Match. I’d rather not do that, but Keefe just essentially got disowned, and it didn’t exactly change much. But I’m a Vacker. The stares and whispers? I get nervous thinking about it. It might be a little bit too much for me to handle. It was more than enough when everyone was focused on Alvar. This could be less than a scandal, because treason kind of outweighs most other things, but it wouldn’t be ‘ew, there’s the traitor’s brother.’ It would be ‘ew, there’s the golden son that was given everything and still chose to be a Bad Match, and he must’ve known that going in because there’s no way two guys could be on each others’ Match Lists, so they didn’t form a connection that pushed them to stick with whatever life throws at them before they knew’.”

Now that I see it...it’s a tad specific. But it’s not wrong!

Third, this will almost undoubtedly make my cognatedom collapse if it hasn’t already. I can’t tell Sophie any of this! Especially after how I treated her when we were dating! I’m now aware I was very much a tosser. There are some things she’ll never get to know.

I hate writing conclusions almost as much as I hate introductions, but they are much less down to a science because I’ve spent all of my mental energy working on the actual content, which I believe is much more important.

Also I don’t know how to navigate this technology thing well enough to go back and edit without the backspace and having to completely delete the later text. There might be more paragraphs in the near future as I need to let out some more emotions, but I’ve had enough for today.

I just want to zone out and sleep until all of my problems figure out how to solve themselves.

But waiting for my problems to solve themselves exceeds my patience levels. Keefe’s taken all of them plus two.

Speaking of Keefe, he and Biana are still blasting music, so I struggle to figure out how to send Sophie a message through my Imparter like Dex does. Hailing would be pointless. She wouldn’t be able to hear anything.

I know we haven’t been on the best of terms lately, and I know it’s entirely my fault, but I was wondering if we could do a couple of cognate exercises. Maybe? See if your mind will still let me in? Catch up on what’s happened since the last time we talked?

It goes through a few rounds of editing, I’m fully aware of the preposition, and I have to try several times to spell ‘exercises’ correctly, but I gather my courage and hit send.

It’s a few songs later when I get a response.

Yeah, sure. Sandor isn’t letting me leave the house, so feel free to pop over here whenever you’re free.

I read the message at least three times in an attempt to gauge the amount of passive aggression hiding in there. I find it to be zero, which is unexpected.

I know my eardrums aren’t going to appreciate this, but I walk over to Biana’s door and knock.

She opens the door a crack and a wave of sound hits me.

“What?” she asks over the music. “Is the music too loud for your precious ears?”

“No, well, yes, but no. I wanted to let you know that I’m heading over to Havenfield. I haven’t run away.”

“That makes it sound like you’re running away.”

“Believe whatever the Exile you want. I’ll see you later.”

#kotlc #detz #dex dizznee #fitz vacker #kotlc fanfic #oh fitz #not me misspelling forty because english is three languages in a trenchcoat

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wrestlingisfake · 2 months

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NJPW 52nd Anniversary preview

Tetsuya Naito vs. SHO - Naito is the IWGP world heavyweight champion, and Sho is the IWGP junior heavyweight champion. Neither title is at stake in this match--it's just a tradition to have the top heavyweight face the top junior on the anniversary show.

Naito's next title defense will be in Tokyo on April 6 in Tokyo, against the winner of the New Japan Cup tournament. Whether he keeps the title or not, his next scheduled match will be April 12--in a real city, Chicago, Illinois--against Jon Moxley. I'm excited.

I think everybody was expecting El Desperado to bring the junior title to this match. Instead Sho defeated him on February 23, when Ren Narita crawled out from under the ring to hold Despy down until he was counted out. I'm actually okay with the idea that titles can change hands via count-out, but obviously the point of such a rule should be "the champion can't run away" not "we can do more flavors of fuck finishes." I know it's supposed to put heat on Sho, but it just cheapens the title win, the title itself, and this match.

Look, I appreciate that House of Torture's shenanigans are aimed at the Japanese ticketholders. If they boo and chant "go home" at the heels, that's enough to call it a success, apparently. New Japan really doesn't care if I, an American streaming these shows overseas, am bored with this crap. I'm not their priority, that's their prerogative.

But I can't believe anybody, in Japan or elsewhere, wants to pay to see Naito pretend to be in danger of taking the biggest bullshit upset loss of his career. We know Naito will win, we know none of the run-ins are going to lead to the finish, we know if they tease a count-out Naito will get back in the ring at nineteen. I could deal with all that if it was entertaining, like when Toru Yano does it. But Sho's actively trying not to be entertaining.

This is going to suck. Listening to Chris Charlton act like he's "pulling back the curtain" to explain why it sucks, for the whole match, will make it even worse.

I think I've talked myself into skipping this. Anyway, Naito has to win. Stay healthy for Mox, champ.

Shota Umino vs. Jack Perry - This is a part of the first round in the New Japan Cup tournament. Perry debuted with New Japan on January 13, when he appeared in the crowd disguised as a fan and attacked Umino out of nowhere.

This is Perry's first match since he lost the FTW belt to HOOK in Wembley Stadium. About five minutes after that, he had a backstage face-off with CM Punk, which led to Punk being fired and Perry being suspended. I guess they weren't sure how to bring Perry back without making it about Punk, so he's doing this New Japan run where he can talk about being a "scapegoat" without getting into who is assigning blame to him, or for what, or why it's not really his fault.

I figured they'd set up a singles match for this feud, but I didn't expect it to be in the opening round of this tournament. I'm curious to see if Perry is just flying in for a one-and-done, or if he'll stick around for the whole tour. I don't see him booked for any undercard tag matches, which suggests he'll just lose here and head home. But I suppose there's a chance he'll stick around.

If Jack wins, I'd say he's the favorite to reach the quarterfinals, probably in a Forbidden Door rematch against SANADA. That could be pretty damn interesting...but we're getting ahead of ourselves here. It's just too early to try to guess where things are going with Perry's scapegoat gimmick. He needs a win, but I'm not confident he's going to get one tonight.

KENTA vs. YOSHI-HASHI - Another first-round match in the New Japan Cup. The winner of this match will face Sanada on March 11 in the second round, since (as a former New Japan Cup winner) he qualified for a first-round bye. Kenta is 4-0 in singles matches against Yoshi.

Yoshi's career highlight is being a 3-time IWGP heavyweight tag champion, but he and Hirooki Goto lost that title in January. Kenta and Chase Owens are the current tag champs. So this is really less about who advances in the tournament (neither of them are going to get far) and whether Yoshi can pin Kenta to get back into contention for the tag title. If Kenta wins, though, I'd say that puts Yoshi and Goto in the back of the line...which could be interesting, because there aren't a ton of other teams to put ahead of them.

I get the feeling Kenta will win to make sure Sanada has an expendable heel to beat in the second round. But it's not a lock--I'd go maybe 60/40 Kenta wins here.

Toru Yano vs. Yujiro Takahashi - Yet another New Japan Cup match. The winner here will meet the winner of Umino vs. Perry in the second round, on March 11.

When it's one-on-one, Yano is 6-1 against Yuj. But I'm guessing most of those matches were before Yujiro went super-duper mega-cheap heel with the House of Torture. Yano will have his hands full trying to stay ahead of all the House of Torture guys running in, I'm pulling for Yano, but he's definitely beatable here.

SANADA & Taichi & Yuya Uemura & DOUKI vs. EVIL & Ren Narita & Yoshinobu Kanemaru & Dick Togo - This is basically a preview of Taichi vs. Narita on March 10. Sanada, Evil, and Uemura are also in the New Japan Cup. We already saw Just 5 Guys and House of Torture feud back in the fall, and I'm over it. The only new wrinkle here is that I think this is the first time we'll see Uemura since he had to cut his hair after losing to Yota Tsuji a couple of weeks ago. Kanemaru or Togo should probably lose the fall, so maybe Uemura can get back on the winning track.

David Finlay & Gabe Kidd & Gedo vs. TJP & Francesco Akira & Callum Newman - Finlay vs. TJP is scheduled for March 7; Kidd vs. Newman is set for March 8. Finlay's War Dogs pretty much destroyed the United Empire in the big cage match last month, and now they're just facing the three weakest guys in the United Empire. I think TJP is angling to be a bigger wheel in the faction now that Will Ospreay's gone, but I don't really think that's going to work. Finlay's team is gonna murder these poor guys.

Shingo Takagi & Hiromu Takahashi & Yota Tsuji & BUSHI vs. Tomohiro Ishii & Hirooki Goto & El Desperado & Boltin Oleg - The heavyweights in this match--Shingo, Tsuji, Ishii, Goto, and Oleg--are all in the New Japan Cup, but this match doesn't really preview their first-round bouts. We could get Goto vs. Ishii on March 12, but only if Ishii beats Chase Owens on March 7. Oleg is still a Young Lion, so you know he has to lose the fall.

Hikuleo & El Phantasmo vs. Mikey Nicholls & Zack Sabre Jr. - ELP and Hiku are the STRONG tag team champions, but the title isn't at stake here. This match is mainly about previewing Phantasmo vs. Nicholls on March 10. Hikuleo and Sabre are also in the tournament, but in different parts of the bracket. Feels like the best move here is for Nicholls to get a pin to set up a STRONG title shot for him and his regular tag partner, Shane Haste. Actually, I'm kinda surprised Haste isn't on this show.

Jeff Cobb & Great-O-Khan vs. Tanga Loa & Tomoaki Honma - Khan vs. Loa will be on March 7. Cobb is also in the tournament. Honma didn't make the cut, which kind of tells you who's losing the fall in this match.

#njpw #njpw anniversary event #tetsuya naito #sho #shota umino #jack perry

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self-h-rmageddon · 2 months

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i used to be able to just like. yap for eternity like, it was my favorite thing ever!!

just go somewhere and TALK talk alone, talk for no one, talk til i had nothing to say anymore but recently ive noticed it makes me feel.. worse? like. i was supposed to just JERK OFF AND GO TO BED like . at 9 pm last night 💀 and i stayed up til like 3 am, ive just been talkin and i watched a movie, that was nice.. i miss it? something inside of me is really really sad right now and i cant quite figure out why. its like a weird puzzle, trying to navigate my brain cuz like i KNOW something wrong, but what? whats bothering me? idont understand. maybe im scared of annoying people again, but.. was i scared of that before too? i dont remember if i was or not. what do i even miss? i dont know, i miss? i dont know what i miss. i miss something, probably

maybe thats whats bothering me, i feel like ive lost something, do i feel like ive lost the ability to be comfortable just.. talking ? maybe a little.. some people followed me after i posted my spamton art and anytime that sort of thing happens, i always feel . i feel so horribly guilty!!! youve followed me for that, not to hear me chatter endlessly about whatever comes to my mind. i know i shouldnt care, but im just scared of annoying people, cuz i really do love to talk!!! i love talking about things i like, but.. something is holding me back? it feels like it, i dont know why. i think its just mental barriers. i was so up front and proud of how much i love spamton g spamton, how much i love A LOT of characters. then i made friends and i felt ashamed and embarrassed. is that all it takes? once you have a set of eyes on you that matters, you fold? i feel like that about a lot of things, maybe thats one of the reasons ive been quieter than im used to being

i think im scared, i think it scares me to imagine ever saying anything and having them be like. "eugh." like?? death id prefer death. without them even asking for it ive just kinda cut bits and pieces off to save myself from POTENTIAL rejection, the. i just want to be someone that is adored, as selfish as it is, of course ill change to get that

i think it sorta.. i . its hard to explain, but loving people when you have bpd feels like you will never ever be loved equally, because i have endless devotion and admiration, theres hardly a single thing i dont love about the people i care about, to the point where its a fault. ive let people get away with terrible things, just cuz i loved them so much i didnt care what happened to me. and sometimes it hurts real bad when i remember that the way i love isnt normal, no one could ever love me like that. its why im on edge, the fear of saying something wrong, the fear of cracking this image. they like me, dont they? what if i say something wrong and for even a small second they like me just a little bit less? it makes me chest hurt just thinking about it, its terrifying. if they like me less for a second, maybe.. the rose tinted glasses will shatter, maybe theyll realize im not all that great, maybe itll be over, gone, DONE. finished, ended . dead. i dont want that, its logical to do everything i can to avoid that right?

terrible fate, thats how i see it. the end of all things. worst possible thing to ever happen to me. id rather relive all my trauma over again than lose anyone, id rather anything else. the way i feel is extreme, but. im known for that i guess 💀 its fear, im scared. scared, what if im annoying? i get afraid of annoying STRANGERS, of course im terrified to annoy my best friends. annoying, maybe when im talking to myself about shit they dont care about, its just filler words. garbage, static , words from my mouth and it means nothing to them. isnt that thought so scary? it is to me, i hang on to every word, every stupid joke, every laugh and .

what do i feel now? im working myself up over something that hasnt even happened. ive upset myself over the IDEA of a problem, the thought that maybe something might be wrong. whatever. i think i have this intense loathing for myself, thats the thing?

with bpd, you split. yr thinking isnt clear, its black and white. painful, so painful, but.. im not some mindless monster that just lashes out. thats terrifying, id have no one if i did that right? so i split on myself instead, all that anger and pain is directed at me from inside, it rips me apart. suddenly i can see every flaw, every annoying thing ive ever done every awkward sentence, every joke that didnt land. every opportunity, every single thing that could take it all away from me. as innocent as they are it seems like genuinely theres these big ugly lacerations on my body every time i feel like im possibly maybe not being as charming as id hope to be, ugly scars that ward people off, my blood gets everywhere and it grosses them out, they scoot away an inch for every cut. i know its not true.. i make friends with good people!! the best people, it just.. its what im scared of, which in my eyes means that its true because if im scared of it, there msut be a reason why im scared ofit? it must be actively happening! every rejection of my being is a step closer to abandonment, i g

ive been doing really good, i think. im not so scared of being abandoned because ive been reassured over and over again and i dont have the heart to think past all that work thats been done for me. ive hardly thought about it, anytime i get scared i just remember the things that have been said to me, how secure my place is here. its true, surely.. but this fear is natural for me. its 2nd nature, this fear puts actions in motion to prevent abandonment. fear keeps me safe, keeps me in that little box i think people want me in. the little box that says im okay! im a good person, every aspect of me they can see in the box is enjoyable, who cares if i feel like i need to cut some pieces off to fit there?

i know in my heart its not what they want. im moving too fast, im bracing again. i just get scared, maybe im just needy. what, i need eyes on me? need to feel seen and appreciated with everything i do? if nothing else, at least THAT is 100% selfish, ive been doing better recently... but sometimes its hard not to fall back on those instincts

#this is so long guhh #just. need it off my chest so i can forget about it already #if i forget it wont hurt me until the next time i remember

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realhankmccoy · 1 year

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yeah. i have Battered Woman Syndrome because of my dad, i'm pretty sure, though i know that's usually associated with boyfriends. not to make excuses or be yet another fucking American leftie talking about his 'mental illness' cuz i'm so fucking sick of that

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just i guess my point is i know how hard of a struggle it is for me to just 'get happy'

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as well as figure out a career that was knocked out from under me by that asshole

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as well as what the fuck i'm supposed to do or where to live a gay life and what the fuck you even do with your childless gay life in which you still get off to your own internalised homophobia

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and i focused on becoming 70 early for my survival skills

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so my patience for america's immaturity and funny ha ha is very limited

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i stay in bed with Lucinda Williams, who's my mother's age, or Tom Waits

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who's fucking 73

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i could give a flying fuck about the music Anyone my age is making

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Johnette Napolitano from Concrete Blonde... 65

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these are the people i mostly relate to

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and again it sounds like some pretentious first world problem

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but sure doesn't make it any easier to figure out how to spend the second half of my life.

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always heavyhearted over how my parents are up there in years

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i love my mother a lot and my father will probably be an unhappy ending since we're always estranged cuz i'm homosexual jetsam just throw it overboard and bend over backwards for the anointed heir

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anyhow maybe that's too much different types of info at once but hopefully it helps explain why i'm a basketcase without a clue. i'll prob try this coding thing and hope it blossoms into remote work and that i'm not totally miserable looking at gobbledygook on screens all day, which is what computer code is

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night man, i guess i give you that info all in hope that you mull it over and can guide me better than i can guide myself. i'll let you get back to work.

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

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The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |

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