#from chapter 1.6

[dw-flagler]

She stares at him. So many big words and fancy language. She can hear her father ranting about him in her mind, the idea that a man like this could make more money than decent, hardworking folks doing proper labor. If she didn't know better, she'd even assume it was a point in the therapist's favor.

It feels wrong that this isn't that important of a line. It feels important. For some reason this feels like it should be a character-defining line but it's 100% not. It doesn't say anything we don't already know... I guess it's confirmation that she does hate her dad? that was already implied though. I mean it could have been possible she ran away from home while still somehow liking her parents? It happens occasionally. I mean in mixed feelings astrid still somehow liked her dad despite him being. the dad from mixed feelings.

[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 1.6 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

two

tuesday, january 14th

you nibbled on your pen as you stood in front of your oversized 2024-2025 calendar, scrutinizing the packed schedule staring back at you. it was a mountain of tasks, every inch of space crammed with commitments and deadlines. for now, you were miraculously on track, but all that would go out the window the moment rafe cameron made his long-anticipated appearance at your front door.

you tossed the pen onto your bed and scolded yourself silently for clinging to that tiny, stubborn habit. pen chewers don’t get into dream schools, you reminded yourself.

the hum of a car speeding past your window sent your heart into overdrive. you forced yourself to breathe, to relax. this was no big deal. just a straightforward arrangement where both of you got something out of the deal. rafe cameron was just a boy. a boy who smelled heavenly and objectively happened to be the conventially attractive kind.

you glanced around your bedroom—the same one you’d had since you were eleven. soft blue walls adorned with delicate flower details framed the space, bookshelves stuffed with novels you’d read at least three times over, and textbooks for classes you didn’t even take yet because preparation was everything. your closet concealed rows of neatly folded clothes, and the pièce de résistance: your desk. a long, well-equipped workspace lined with pens, sticky tabs, notebooks, calculators, and every imaginable tool a student could need. the tools for your greatness.

you'd set it up for him. moved away some of your "mess" and placed a calculator, notebook and pencil knowing he probably wouldn't even bring one. you didn't have an extra chair which worked in your favor. he and his downright divine smell could stay all the way over there whilst you watched him from your bed.

your phone chimed, and the message flashed across your open laptop screen—two simple words that sent a strange, fluttering sensation through your chest:

you turned to the mirror, giving yourself a once-over. a white tank top showing just a sliver of midriff, paired with a cozy yellow cardigan, jeans, and fluffy slippers.

adjusting your high ponytail, you hurried downstairs and opened the door. there he was, standing on your porch, looking unfairly good for a lazy sunday. no surprise, the only thing he held was his algebra book—no pencil, no supplies. predictably unprepared.

“hey.”

there was something unnervingly open about his eyes. when he looked at you, it was like he was peeling back layers, welcoming you into some uncharted depth of himself. most people avoided eye contact, but not rafe. his gaze was arresting, almost disarming, and it made you feel vulnerable, as if he could see straight through you.

"hey, come in." you turned on your heel and let him into the foyer. you went to stand by the stairs as he took off his coat and when he followed you, you stopped him, pointed to his feet and said, "shoes off." outside dirt was not something your mom found entertaining in the slightest.

"oh, right—yeah," he halted with a nod and turned to kick off his sneakers. you got a good look at his back. he was wearing loose cargo jeans with this white tee that irritatingly did wonders for his arms. they did not look this big last week in principal oakley's office. and his back? the way it flexed was something out of this world. you'd never seen a more attractive back.

you willed yourself to turn around, to avoid being caught staring. "okay, c'mon." you bounded up the stairs two at a time, hearing him follow close behind. "i don't..have to say hello to your parents?" he asked and you hate that your mind immediately went: green flag!

"normally, yes. but no one is home right now." you go all the way up to the attic which was the only room up there. a room you had to fight tooth and nail for but would gladly leave for your sister when you left for university next year.

you closed the door behind him, "work?" he asked and you hummed, "my mom is at work, my dad gets off work at 3:45 and takes my brother and sister to their extracurriculars so we have plenty of time for you to master the first chapter of algebra." you patted toward your desk and tapped on the chair insinuating he sits on it.

he made a face that said he was already tired before you'd even started and you laughed and grabbed his algebra book. "okay, did you read the first chapter?" you asked half-expecting him to say no but he nodded as he slumped into your chair.

you leaned against your desk and did a quick read through of what the first chapter entailed. it had been very long since you'd opened this book in the beginning. "tell me what it's about."

"it's about numbers." he said flatly

you gave him a look and narrowed your eyes. "what kind of numbers?" you asked and he parted his lips like he was going to say something but then stopped to think briefly. "unknown numbers?" he said almost like a question and the answer shuldn't have made you as happy as it did but you quiped, "yes!" happily.

"so, what about these unknown numbers? what are we doing with them?" you dug a little deeper and you could see the cogs turning in his head. "they're unknown so..we need to figure them out?" he says which wasn't wrong, just not exactly what you were looking for. "how?"

"using variables."

"yes, that's right. we need to figure out unknown numbers using variables."

"and i read some shit about expressions and equations?" you find it adorable how he hasn't sounded not confused since the moment he sat down. "mhm, do you know what expressions and equations are?" you ask.

he stares at you for a moment, " expressions are… parts of math that don’t have an equals sign, and equations do…" he hesitates, staring at you for confirmation and you nod gesturing for him to continue. "uh, variables are the letters in those… like x or y, and you have to figure out what they stand for by, you know, solving." he says and you nod. he had a basic grasp of the foundation. that was something.

"yes, perfect. the first chapter covers the basics of algebra—like what variables are and how they work in expressions and equations. it explains how to combine like terms, use the properties of equality to keep equations balanced, and solve for an unknown variable, usually 𝑥. basically, it’s the foundation for everything else, so if you don’t get this, the rest of algebra’s going to feel like trying to read a book in another language."

he blinked at you. "fucking hell..that was english?" he asks and you chuckle and start writing an equation on the notebook you'd prepared for him. "i will walk you through an exercise. once you've done enough of them, you start to see patterns and realise they're mostly, if not all kinda the same thing over and over. math is the most logical course there is."

you covered the intro of variable expressions and basic operations with algebraic expressions and it went okay, rafe was starting to get the hang of the easier exercises but it wasn't smooth sailling either.

you gave him a bit of a challenging one to complete but you had a feeling he could do it if he just concentrated. he was clearly trying, but his attention wandered. he doodles a soccer ball in the margin of his notebook until you snap your fingers in front of him. “eyes on the prize, cameron. the prize being you not failing.”

“so… this balancing thing,” he says, frowning at the equation. “it’s like… i’m balancing practice, school, and you bossing me around, right?”

“sure,” you says dryly. “except the equation has better odds of working out.”

he laughs at that and you will yourself to not let the sound replay in your mind a dozen times. you fail.

by the end of the lesson he managed to make 6 equations all by himself with no mistakes. it wasn't easy, he had a lot of work but after the lesson you just had, you really believed in his ability to succeed.

"thanks for today." he said as he pulls on his jacket and you shake your head, "no worries."

you turn to the front door and open it before turning back to rafe and your breath hitches when you're face to face with him. the proximity sent a jolt through you. you blink up at him, seemingly frozen in place for a solid three seconds before you clear your throat and move away from the door. "good work today. you're better than i thought." you say as he starts to walk out and he turns, walking to his car backwards. "that's when you're right by my side. once i'm alone? everything hits the fan." he says.

you shake your head, holding on to the door. "you did really good. just make the exercises i gave you and if you get stuck, write down your questions and we can go over it on sunday."

"alright, thanks teach!" he says before he's getting in his car and driving off.

you stood in the doorway for a moment, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air, before realising you never sat down on your bed. you stayed right by his side the whole time.

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

[casuallyanidiot]

The Beta Test | Chapter 2

[Yandere M x Gn Reader]

Local party animal and known social butterfly [name] wakes up to find that they've been abducted by their very reclusive and very wealthy classmate. Why, you might ask, did he do this? Well for one reason of course! He needs to know how he's going to talk to his crush! So now, with their freedom on the line, [name] has to figure out how to get this kid with the one of his dreams or risk never leaving at all. Lots of weird conversations ensue, of course.

1.6 k words Tw. Swearing

Chapter 1 Table of Contents

You stayed shivering on the floor of the cell for what you guessed to be the next few hours. There were no windows in the little room you had been stuffed into, and even the little dim lights under the cabinets on the other side of the bars had been turned off. They had shut off a few minutes after Javier had left, leaving you in near absolute darkness. Over the course of however long you had been in there, your mind had become increasingly clear.

You had fallen asleep after a certain point. Like, what else was there to do? When you woke up again, it felt like your spine had been bent into thirteen different directions. This sucked, to say the least. Your freedom for him getting with some girl? What a freaking weirdo. You sighed as you stretched out as best as you could and tried not to think about the absolute mess of a man that could probably harm you with little remorse. 

Still, all you could really do was wait for Javier to come back. So, that’s what you did.

It wasn’t clear how long you had been sitting there, staring at the cabinets and trying to imagine what lay in them, before a beeping noise came muffled from the other side of the door. Your bleary eyes widened before narrowing sharply. A twinge of annoyance ran through you as a head peeked into the room. This little asshole stared at you like you were some kind of rabid animal. Still, he shuffled in.

“ Hey uh, you’re probably hungry cause of the drugs and all. I brought you something,” he said. He walked over to stand in front of your cell. In his hands was a tray of what looked like something edible. Honestly, it was the least he could do. 

“ I would’ve had a…someone else deliver it to you, but I think we should kinda uh get to know each other a bit more. Since you know, you’re gonna help me and all,” he laughed a little and raised the dishes out to you slightly. You could only blink at his audacity. But hey, you were pretty hungry. 

The pit in your stomach had been a big pain in your ass for who knows how long, and you doubted that a hunger strike would really get you anywhere. You let a groan out in frustration as you threw your head back and started to stand.  It was a slow and shitty process; all your joints were cracking like a glowstick. You should not be having this hard of a time in your twenties. Maybe it was time to go see a chiropractor or something. Surely someone knew a good one that wouldn’t break your bank or back. 

Walking up to the metal bars you realized that this was the first time you had ever been this physically close to Javier. He must’ve been thinking the same thing because he was shifting around so much you would’ve thought that he had to go use the bathroom or something. Still, you wordlessly held out your hands with a blank stare. He looked at you silently for a few moments, absolutely flabbergasted I'm sure, and went rigid. You rolled your eyes.

“ For fuck’s sake man, just give me the food,” you said, pretty exhausted all around. Your sure you sounded like a stay-at-home military mom with 5 kids after picking them up from school or something. Not a good look at all. Whatever. Being held captive wasn’t exactly the vibe you wanted to put out either, but here you were.

“ Huh! Oh yeah.. That. Sorry, sorry. Here you go,” he said meekly and attempted to pass you your meal, finally, but there was just one issue. It was kind of weird how neither of you had noticed nor thought about the fact that the plate might be too big to actually fit through the bars. As the plastic dish was stopped by the immovable steel (or whatever metal it was actually made of. How should you know?) you pressed your lips into a thin, tight line. You raised your head to see the gloomy man going through what you could guess were the five stages of grief all at once. 

Yeah, Javier looked like he was on the cusp of shattering like a lego building does when dropped from the twelfth story.

“Dude…” you whispered, also absolutely devastated because you were hungry, duh.

“ Uhhh, umm.”

The guy couldn’t even get a single word out; He only kept trying to shove the plate into your cell. The room was filled with only the sounds of dull tapping. You could only stare on dumbly, lips parted in absolute disbelief.

“ Hey it’s um, it’s not going to get through,” you said. It was like your words went in one ear and out the other. It was like he was a robot, trying to do an action even though it was physically impossible. You noticed his trembling hands and his quivering lip almost immediately, and you shook your head. You reached through the bars and grabbed the plastic dish, stopping the weak motions. 

“ It’s not gonna work man. Let it go.”

It was like you had backhanded him or something. His dark eyes went wide and he actually jumped back from you. You were left in a pretty uncomfortable position there while he bumped back into a table. His chest was heaving pretty deeply, and his string bean body was splayed out in all sorts of awkward angles. You stood there, with your back still hurting as the one who kidnapped you in the first place stood trembling 5ft away. 

Well, that was a total waste of time. 

He seemed to realize that he was acting very, very strangely and cleared his throat. Javier ran his hands through his flat, dark hair, clearly stressed. He straightened up, pushing on the high-quality marble counters with shaky arms. 

“ I uh, sorry. I should’ve thought of that haha. Guess that just shows how useless I am,” he laughed weakly, and you grimaced at the way he glanced to the side. You rolled your eyes, the hunger had really started to whittle down your already tiny amount of patience. The plate of food, which you still could not pull into your cell by the way, smelled stupidly good. I mean, if you really tried, you could still be able to eat. Though as you held it up, you noticed that there was nothing for you to eat with. You huffed.

“ You’re fine, man. Can you get me a fork?”  

“ I’m fine? Yeah, you’re right,” he sighed out of relief. He laughed as he waved a finger at you. “ I think… I think I can see why you get along with people so well. “ You raised a brow at his words. He stood tall, finally done with whatever emotional rollercoaster he had gone through in like under two minutes.

“ I mean, you’re really good at talking to people. I mean we’re already having some fun memories, right? I mean, I know we’re not friends, not yet at least, but um, this is good! You can help me better if you’re more comfortable with me and stuff haha,” he said while rubbing his arm. You could only blink at the audacity of this man.

“ Fun memories? Like what?” You couldn’t help the confused hiss that left your lips.

“ Oh you know, like right now. I made a mistake and um, you were all reassuring and stuff. Like I said I know we’re not friends, but um it was really nice how you kept me calm and stuff. I know that I’m probably gonna remember this for a long time,” Javier giggled a little bit at the end.

“ Ah okay. Well, that’s cool and all, but can you please get me a fork?”

“ Yeah, it is cool. I’m glad that I came and talked to you today. I almost didn’t, haha. I was um, kinda nervous. I mean… yeah this was nice. I’m gonna go now. See you later,” he said. His gloomy expression had become noticeably brighter. He gave a little way and smiled before turning to the door.

“ Wha- hey wait!” You cried out, but he just kept walking. The door was shut once again and the same mechanical beeping rang out. You stood dumbfounded, an offended scoff leaving your mouth as those stupid lights dimmed down. The food in your hands couldn’t easily be eaten without utensils, and even if you did, your hands would probably be super messy. Your stomach rumbled as you sighed in defeat.

It was awkward to move the plate down to the ground while your arms were still outstretched beyond the bars, but you managed to do it. You stared at it longingly. Maybe if you looked at it long enough the flavor would somehow miraculously end up on your tongue. You slumped over in slight defeat.

While you had always assumed to an extent that Javier was socially inept, you would’ve never guessed it would be this bad. Like, the dickwad didn’t even spare you a second glance as he left. Did he even hear you? Was it even possible to be that wrapped up in oneself? You could kinda feel bad for the guy if the current setting was literally anywhere else. 

If you were back in the quiet corner of the library, then sure, you might feel for the guy. Hell, if he had asked you to help him like a regular fucking person would, you probably would’ve jumped at the chance. But here? Now?

You groaned as you slumped over. If he was this bad, then there was absolutely no way that he was going to get with that girl. Even if you helped. You looked miserably at your plate and bitterly came to the reasonable conclusion that you were probably gonna die here because of that fact alone.

Fucking Javier Galvan, man.

[0vereasy]

Life’s Creations and Love’s Manifestations - Dr Ratio x Female Reader

Summary: Your promotion as one of the heads of the Security Department at Herta’s Station was full of many headaches, one of the biggest being a visiting scholar from the Intelligentsia Guild, and delegate of the IPC, Dr. Ratio.

When you were forced to team up with him to solve several crises emerging at the Station, how will your tense relationship change? And what exactly is the Doctor hiding?

Dr Ratio x Reader, implied Screwllum x Reader

LATER CHAPTERS WILL BE BASED ON THE 1.6 TRAILBLAZER QUEST!

Enjoy the fic? Consider leaving Kudos on A03!

Masterlist | Chapter 2

Chapter 1: New Arrival

Word count: 5.7k+

“I’ve got to say, Mr. Screwllum,” your voice was smooth as you spoke, a clear playful undertone underlying your words. You crossed your legs in the chair you sat in, leaning in slightly closer to the robot. Your elbow rested on your knee as you leaned in, hand moving to support your chin and to cover the growing smirk on your features, “An offer for dinner and drinks? In your private quarters? At this late hour?” your gaze briefly flicked to a nearby computer screen, scanning the time, before moving back to your robot companion, “If I didn’t know any better, I would guess you were asking me on a date.”

“Hypothesis: Would that particular offer be so awful, dear?” Screwllum’s face, as usual, was devoid of emotion, his robotic features forever remaining neutral. His voice though; that was what you had to focus on to understand his tone; his meaning. Based on the way he was speaking now, you knew the robot, like yourself, had less than pure thoughts running through his mind, his robotic tone of voice lighter than usual, playful even, “It is not as if you frequenting my quarters at such a late hour is a rare occurrence. Question: Would it be an offence to catch up with someone I hold so dear?”

“Hmm, I suppose not,” you hummed, drumming your fingers against your chin in playful thought, “You know I’m not the kind of woman to turn down drinks… or your company for that matter.” You let a small chuckle escape the ever-permanent smirk on your lips, “I wonder though; what ideas do you have to occupy our evening after our little dinner party is complete?” You uncrossed your legs, briefly standing up to scootch your office chair closer to his, your warm knees now touching his cold metallic ones, “It must be something important; you interrupted my on the job after all.” Your eyes scanned the dark security room, focusing briefly on the cameras you were supposed to be watching. As expected, they were devoid of activity, researchers and most security members long having retreated to their quarters for the evening. You were happy for the privacy though, considering the direction of your little conversation. You were quick to focus back on him

“Ah yes, the job you were so carefully conducting whilst reading the same book you have been trying to complete for the last two months,” the book was now long discarded on the desk, the boring contents much less important than your current predicament. You narrowed your eyes none-the-less, allowing yourself to rest a hand on the robot’s metallic knee in front of you.

“A genius like yourself should know your company is more valuable than one of Adler’s little research books,” you said slyly, allowing your hand to drift slightly further up Screwllum’s thigh, “You can’t hide anything for me, you know. So tell me, Mr. Screwllum; what exactly do you have planned for tonight?”

He sighed, letting a small chuckle escape that had you clenching your knees together to control yourself, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by your companion, “Conclusion: You are right, nothing escapes your careful observations, dear,” the usually cold security room seemed impossibly warm now, your heartbeat increasing in your chest as Screwllum copied your actions, allowing his own metallic hand rest on your knee, “During my previous trip, I happened to stumble upon a quaint shop that sold candles and such,” he started, his words slow and sensual, leaving you internally grasping for more, “The owner happened to sell a collection of essential oils as well; for massages.”

“Interesting,” was your simple reply, not trusting yourself to comment further as a flood of dirty imagery grew in your brain. Screwllum watched your expression carefully, another chuckle escaping his metal mouth that had you completely willing and ready to jump out of your stupid office chair and straddle him right there and then.

“Hypothesis: I know you have been stressed lately. Conclusion: A relaxing meal and massage may help revitalize you before Ruan Mei’s expected visit. I have been told that I am exceptional with my hands.” You couldn’t help but swallow hard at that, your throat bobbing slightly as Screwllum’s began massaging your knee with his hand, fingers expertly kneading the flesh. You resisted the urge to clench your thighs together once more.

“You’re always full of surprises,” your voice was slightly shaky this time, body hyper-focused on his touch on your knee. You stood up again, allowing you to be face-to-face with the robot who usually towered over you, “I gotta say though, I’m curious about one thing… Mr. Screwllum.” You whispered his name, your words causing goosebumps on your own skin, as if the universe or some aeon out there was making up for the lack of physical reaction that Mr. Screwllum could afford from his own body.

“And what would that be?” He asked simply, glowing green eyes staring back at you defiantly, briefly flickering to your hands, which now rested around his neck, allowing your two bodies to be even closer together. At this rate, you weren’t even sure you could make it to dinner, your arousal ever-growing.

“Everyone knows that massages start at the shoulders,” you commented, rubbing his own metallic shoulders through his shirt, despite the knowledge that the motion would do nothing for him, “and then often trail down the back,” you allowed your hands to dip down his metal spine slowly, brushing the green butterfly wings on his back “but ultimately, they have to stop,” your hands came to a rest at his hips, your face moving close to his so you could whisper in his metallic ear, “So, Mr. Screwllum, where will your hands end up?”

He chuckled, one of his hands tilting your chin slightly so he could better look you in the eye. The room was practically spinning then, your hair clinging to your forehead due to the heat building up in the small space, “Interesting line of inquiry, my dear. Of course, my hands would end up-”

BRINGGGGG BRINGGGGG

The sudden ring of your walkie talkie from the desk made you jump, you and Screwllum separating from each other, and whatever little world you had been in, in shock. You muttered a curse under your breath as you slumped back into your chair, trying to contain your annoyance as you spoke, “This is Y/N from the security department. What is it?” You rubbed your thighs together angrily as if you were a horny teenager who couldn’t get off… though you supposed that description was pretty accurate given the circumstances.

“Y/N, it’s Leonard reporting from the Supply Zone,” you couldn’t help but hold back your groan, glad that audio could only transport through thesed damned devices. Of all the people who had to call you right now, it had to be Leonard? The same Leonard who managed to lose a hacking battle with that damned Stellaron Hunter girl? The man attracted too much drama for a night like this, “there’s a ship trying to dock in the Zone, but we weren’t expected any visitors!”

“And the identity of this person?” you asked, forcing yourself to switch into work mode despite the ever-growing desire to make out with the robot beside you. Your swift fingers quickly pulled up the feed from the Supply Zone, showing a modest sized ship waiting for permission to dock, the few staff around looking between each other and the ship like lost, confused dogs.

“He says his name is…. Dr. Ratio, a scholar from the Intelligencia Guild,” Leonard repeated the name awkwardly. At the mention of the Intelligencia Guild, you looked back at your robot companion, exchanging a look, “He says he’s a representative of the IPC on his way to Penacony, and that he emailed Ms. Asta early this evening about dropping by for a few days.” Leonard paused for a few seconds, not yet hanging up the call from his end of the line, “He’s getting impatient that we won’t let him dock, and we don’t know what to do! Were just following protocol after all.”

You let a few seconds of silence pass, briefly closing your eyes as you internally kissed your evening of drinks and a massage goodbye, “...Tell him that I’m on my way to the Supply Zone… I’ll come as quickly as I can.”

“Roger that, thanks!” Leonard sighed in relief, the walkie talkie going flat as the line died. You resisted the urge to groan and bury your head in your hands, instead only allowing a frustrated sigh to break through your lips.

“I’m sorry Screwllum… I have to deal with this tonight,” you stood up, patting the robot on the shoulder sympathetically, “but maybe we can make another night work… I still want to take you up on that massage offer.” You spoke, leaving the implied context of those words unaddressed.

“It is quite alright dear, your work is more important that our leisure, though I must admit that your prescence in my chambers will be missed tonight,” Screwllum spoke honestly, grabbing one of your hands and squeezing it in his hold, metallic grasp, “But I will look forward to having you grace me with your prescence in the upcoming days.”

“Thanks for understanding,” you said earnestly with a small sigh, quickly pressing a kiss to his metallic cheek before regrettably letting his hand fall from yours, turning away to grab your walkie talkie and Station ID card and lanyard, which you let hang around your neck, “Do you know about this Ratio dude at all? Name ring any bells?”

“Affirmative, I have heard of him,” Screwllum nodded, “He’s known for his desire to spread knowledge across the universe… and his arrogance and self-centered nature.”

“Sounds like a pleasure to deal with tonight,” you rolled your eyes, turning back to Screwllum briefly, “I’m sorry again about everything.” You hoped that he understood the truth behind your words as you stared into his glowing green orbs, though you knew you would never truly understand what he was thinking in that moment.

“Please do not worry yourself, my dear,” he said, tone light, though the playfulness from earlier had dissipated. He reached over to the desk, passing you Adler’s boring book and your waterbottle that definitely was not filled with water that you had overlooked while grabbing your items, “Please send me a text once you are sure everything is okay. I will remain here to watch over the cameras until the next guard arrives.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtful gesture, pressing another quick kiss to his cheek, lips lingering slightly before you forced yourself to move away

“Thank you,” you smiled, before your mouth slipped into a sly smirk, “I won’t forget this the next time we are together… I’ll have to repay you for everything, hm?” you turned to leave then, letting the robot ponder the true meaning of your words as you strutted away.

~~~

You could hear the new arrival before you could speak to him.

Aeons, his voice was so grating on the ears, his tone refined and moderately deep, but insanely unpleasant as he yelled obscenities through the communication port connecting the office in Supply Zone to any ships preparing to dock at that station. Even from the ever white and shiny metal hallways of the Space Station, you could hear his annoying voice echoing off the walls, doing nothing to help your annoyed attitude. You took a swig from your water bottle, allowing yourself a modest sip of the alcohol inside. You had to get through this interaction somehow, right?

“... and I must say! The gall of the renowned Herta’s Space Station to treat potential guests as akin to petty criminals is preposterous! For an institution dedicated to knowledge, I would expect the grace and intelligence of the security team to be able to determine friend from foe, and to allow those with the best intentions inside. To treat a guest like this! An IPC Representative! The service here is admismal!” Leonard shot you a panicked look as you walked into the security room, the voice of your oh-so-kind visitor somehow even more grating from inside the confined space. You flashed him what you hoped was a reassuring and confident smirk, striding towards the communication system as if you were born to do so.

“I must ask you, Mr. Ratio, to avoid insulting our staff. I would expect a smart man like yourself would know how to manage his words,” you spoke cooley into the microphone serving as the communication device, which was placed in front of a few monitors in the smaller security room overlooking the docking station, “My name is Y/N, I am a leading supervisor in the security department.”

“Did I ask?” was his deadpan response from the other end, “I simply want entry into the Space Station, miss Y/N, but you’re incompetent and completely unprepared coworkers have no idea how to check the identity of guests that checked in prior for visitation rights!” Clearly he wasn’t going to let up easily, a thought of which made you sigh. You cracked your knuckles in anticipation.

“Ah yes, the check in email,” you replied drily, scrolling through your phone, “An email which was sent to Ms. Asta a mere two hours ago. I assume, given your work experience Mr. Ratio, that you understand the concept of a 9 to 5 and working hours, no?” you kept your tone neutral as you spoke, though your words themselves carried enough attitude themselves.

“You-” the man on the other end seemed flustered for a moment, his end of the line going dead for a few seconds, “I am well aware of the concept of working hours! And yet, clearly given that you are hear gracing me with this oh so pleasant conversation, working hours vary. I would expect that people with your experience, Miss, would have the foresight to check an email inbox, especially concerning the arrival of potential guests.”

“You’re right, that would be expected,” you conceded, your tone still even, though the amused smirk grew on your face, “Which is exactly why all inquiries pertaining to visits and arrival times should be sent to the alternate security email address when Miss Asta is not in working hours, a fact you would have known if you had bothered to read past the first line of the automated response you must have received when you emailed Miss Asta earlier this evening.” The eyes of the security department members, or at least the few who had had been unlucky enough to have to work in the Supply Zone tonight, were glued to you as you spoke, just as you hoped Mr. Ratio was glued to his seat as he attempted to reply to your quips.

“Again, as I am sure you are aware, the use of technology in space can be fickle when travelling, especially when older vessels are not in the proximity of an electric source,” the scholar’s voice rung though as annoying as ever, though the loss of extreme exclamations in his tone was glaringly obvious, “I therefore did not receive this automated message you speak of until I arrive here and connected to your ships internal power supply.”

“Ah, so you did receive the message?” you quipped, dropping the respectfulness in your tone with this opening the scholar oh so graciously dropped at your feet, “And yet instead of sending another email to correct your mistake, you decide to harass my colleague? For a genius, your logic seems to be lacking.” You couldn’t hide the excited bite in your tone now, or the giddeness you were experiencing due to this conversation.

You hated to admit it…

This was… kinda fun. Definitely not on the level of rizzing up a robot like you had been earlier, but this conversation was clearly entertaining. What more could a woman ask for than sassing a renowned genius to release sexual tension that had built up earlier that night?

“You- you are clearly trying to-”

You didn’t let him speak, “Lucky for you, as a senior member of the security department, I have access to Lady Asta’s emails, and was able to check them after Leonard told me about the situation. Loe and behold, there I found your little check in email. I was able to confirm your identity and status after talking to a collegue, and after running a voice analysis on this call…” you paused as your fingers quickly moved over the keyboard in front of you, “I can can officially welcome you to Herta’s Space Station, Mr. Ratio. I am disabling the external security systems now… and I’ll see you on the dock shortly.” With that, you pressed a button on the keyboard, hanging up the call before leaning back into the office chair with a small sigh.

“Miss Y/N, that was awesome!” Leonard was at your side immediately, patting you on the back as a look of relief passed over his features. He watched your fingers and you quickly disabled and re-enabled the external security system to the station, allowing the passage of the ship through, “What’s that guys deal anyway? He’s such an ass!” Leonard allowed himself to collapse in the desk chair after you stood, grabbing your book and your water bottle, which you allowed yourself a triumphant sip from.

“We should know better than anyone, Leonard,” you commented, quickly moving to the door of the security room so you could rush to the docking platform, “Geniuses are fucking weird.” With that, you walked out of the room the same way you walked into it, confidently as if this was your Space Station, leaving Leonard and the researchers to gossip over the juicy call they had just listened to alone.

You’re sure Arlan would hear about this in the morning… a fact that he wouldn’t find quite as amusing as Leonard and the others. Oh well, future problems, you supposed.

The walk from the security room to the docking platform was short, a mere 50 feet or so down a ramp and across a small black platform. As you walked, steps quick but not overly rushed, you could see the ship docking in the platform, a small ramp extending from the door to allow for easy passage to the walkway below. The man inside clearly was in no rush, and was remarkably more quiet compared to your first impression of him, with no noises traveling towards you as you approached.

You didn’t exactly know what to expect as you stood at the bottom of the ramp. Considering the vast number of people hosted on the ship, each different from the last, there could be pretty much anything inside that space ship. Your only had one experience with the IPC was with that one debt collector, Topaz, who stopped by once in a while to collect loans taken out by Herta to support the massive money sink which was the Space Station. If he was anything like Topaz, you were expecting a scantally dressed man with a nice figure and a cute trotter to accompany him.

Well you weren’t too far off with two of your guesses as you watched the man of the hour finally make his appearance. The man front of you was definitely well built, your eyes scanning over his muscular arms and broad shoulders as he descended the ramp. He also was fairly scantally dressed, his Greek-esque outfit barring cut outs on the sides, showing off his toned stomach, along with his aforementioned muscular arms, one of which was completely visible.

Unfortunately, the man was not accompanied by a trotter. Instead, he wore a alabaster head over his own, blocking his face from your view.

“Well Miss Y/N, I would say it was a pleasure to meet you, but I always tell my students that one shouldn’t lie in a professional setting,” he stood in front of your now, having finished descending the ramp. He was a head taller than you, and his close proximity meant you were basically face to face with his stupid broad shoulders and toned chest. Maybe if you were less pissed off and the it wasn’t past midnight at this point, you would find the nerve to exchange pleasantries. However, with the alcohol loosening your inhbitions and lips, you let you true thoughts ring out.

“Can you even see through that thing?”

The lack of direct response to his taunts and the sudden change of subject were clearly not expected by the scholar, who clutched the codex he carried to his toned chest, almost as if he was recoiling from your words.

“I beg your pardon?” He spoke a moment later, as if finally snapping back to reality, he tucked the codex under one arm, allowing him to awkwardly cross his arms across his chest in a show of… defiance? Toughness? You weren’t exactly certain.

“The alabaster head, can you see through it?” you tapped on the nose of the head, as if testing the material, “seems pretty thick to me, how do you even walk around in that thing?”

He now physically recoiled from your touch, quickly yanking the alabaster head off his own and allowing it to vanish, a technique of some weapon bearers that you didn’t quite understand yourself. You concealed your surprise at the man underneath. His shoulder-length blue-purple hair framed his face almost perfectly, and the golden leaf pin adorning the top of his head brought out the gold and amber red in his eyes; the very eyes that were now narrowed and glaring at you as he too looked over your appearance, “Enough! I forbid you from touching this head, do you understand the time that went into crafting this? Or does an imbecile like you not understand the concept of art and the beauty of sculpting?”

“Given the way you’re looking at me now, I’d guess the answer to my previous question was no,” you retorted with a smirk, before sticking out a hand in greeting, “Welcome to the Space Station, Mr. Ratio.” He stared at your hand, not moving to stick out his own.

“That is Dr. Ratio to you,” he snapped, “I expect someone of your standing would understand the importance of a proper label and greeting, or do you need me to read you a list of my credentials so you can truly understand the importance?”

“Considering were already stuck together, I would hope you would refrain from making both of our evenings more unbearable,” you commented, unable to resist the urge to roll your eyes, “I would expect someone of your status to shake my hand so we can end these non-existent fake pleasantries so I can escort you to your quarters so we will both be oh so happier.”

The Doctor let out a sound the mix of a scoff and a groan, reluctantly reaching a hand out to shake yours. His grip was strong, as expected based on his figure, you supposed, as he shook your hand with all the enthusiasm he could muster, “Thank you for the oh so kind welcome.”

“Great, you’re sounding more like an IPC delegate already!” you cheered in fake enthusiasm as he released your hand, “Let’s get going then, so both of us can rest easier.” You gestured for him to follow you down the platform, turning your head and not glancing back as you did so. You were reassured he was following you based on the sound fo his footsteps, evident by the quiet supply zone given the late hour.

“I must say, when that Leonard fellow said he was contacting his supervisor, I did not expect someone like you to show up,” he commented as he followed you, his tone of voice as arrogant as ever.

“Meaning?” you rebutted, not willing to show your hand and work up a retort until you truly understood what he was getting at. You glanced over your shoulder to meet his gaze briefly, his golden eyes fixed on you.

“Most higher ups in security departments are stern and unforgiving men, not some over confident zealous girl,” he expanded, spitting out the word girl as if it was some sort of insult. You didn’t bother with a reaction, somewhat used to comments of such a sort.

“Our boss, Arlan is the stern one, though he’s definitely pretty forgiving,” you shrugged, leading the man inside the security room, smirking when you caught him with a slightly frustrated expression when you look over your shoulder, “My job is to be the witty moodmaker, isn’t that right Leonard?” You let your eyes move from the scholae to Leonard, who looked up from the security cameras he was monitoring.

“Y-Yes Miss Y/N!” he stammared, flushing slightly as you smirked at him. He was quick to change his focus to the doctor beside you, “It is our pleasure to have you on the Space Station, Doctor Ratio.” The Doctor didn’t spare him a nod, only quickly glancing in his direction. Leonard’s face dropped at the lack of response, a change which angered you.

“I’m sure Mr. Ratio is thankful for the welcome,” you replied despite the indifference seen on the man beside you, “I’m sure he’s just too busy thinking of how he’s going to apologize to you, right Mr. Ratio?” you turn completely now to look the purple-haired man in the eye, tilting your head to the side innocently.

“Excuse me?” he glared at you, again crossing his arms, almost as if he was dealing with an unruly student rather than security personal on one of the most renowned Space Stations in the world.

“Oh, was that not on your mind?” you feigned ignorance, shifting your book under one arm and placing an exaggerated hand over your mouth, “my apologies, I guess I just expected for a intelligentsia guild member and delegate such as yourself to maintain pleasant relations with the station, and to apologize to those you wronged.” You let out an exaggerated sigh, looking at the other security members in the room, “I guess with the small crowd tonight, your reputation wasn’t exactly on your mind?”

He was fuming now, fists clenched at his side as he glared daggers at you. He fists remained there as he let his gaze wander from Leonard to the other security members, “I… apologize Leonard, and all of you, for letting my temper get the best of me. I suppose I am tired after my long day of travel… please forgive me.” His fists were practically shaking now, his barely-controlled anger begging to be released.

“Ah, look at that!” you exclaimed, shifting your book under your shoulder so you could place a mocking hand over your heart, “I can almost see the diplomatic relations between the IPC and the Space Station improving as we speak! Amazing! Let’s get going then, shall we?”

Leonard and the other securiy members stare at the both of you as you leave, mouths slightly agape as they watch the angry proud scholar trail after you, fists still clenched and face now red in a mix of embarrassment and anger, though he was forcing himself to take deep breaths as he went to calm his own temperament.

Arlan would definitely hear about this now…

You allowed yourself another long swig from your water bottle as you made your way through the winding silver hallways of the space station, the doctor on your heals.

“You’re breath smells like alcohol,” he stated simply, taking a few large steps so he was walking beside you, “I’ll let you know that that is the only reason I allowed you to treat me like some fool show for your co-workers. What would that Arlan fellow say if he learned you were drinking on the job?” his gaze flickered from your mouth to your water bottle, mouth crinkling in disgust.

“I was technically off work…” you glanced at your watch, “almost an hour ago at this point. Guess I’m not truly drinking on the job, hmm?” you spared a glance at the doctor, his face much less red, but his eyes angry still. You really had poked the wasps nest, huh?

“I am no fool, Miss Y/N,” he rolled his eyes, sighing in disappointment, “Based on how you are carrying your bottle, it is almost empty,” he eyed your hand, the only thing holding up the bottle being a few of your fingers clutched around the hand hold on the lid, “and based on your delayed reactions and unexplained confidence, it is clear you have been indulging in alcohol throughout the day.”

“Wow Doctor, I’m impressed,” you replied with a smirk, “I guess all the supposed titles you have aren’t only for show.” You both paused in front of the elevator, doing the best to ignore the growing tension between you to. You liked tension though, and this interaction was filling you with as much heat and excitement as your previous more steamy encounter with your robot companion earlier that evening, albeit much less pleasurable physically, the desire you had felt long ago fading away to a dull ache you would have to deal with yourself later.

“You are insufferable,” he replied, pushing in front of you to step into the elevator before you could. You rolled your eyes at that, quickly following in afterwards. You easily press the button to the floor containing the living quarters and guest rooms, cursing whoever designed the space ship for making the travel distance to them so unbearably far from your current location, “Though I must say, I am surprised a person of your intellect level is aware of Adler’s System of Ecological Classification.” Both you and the scholar’s eyes trail down to the book in your hands, a bookmark placed very close to the front cover.

“I’m not,” you said plainly, drumming your fingers against the hard cover, “I honestly don’t understand it at all. I told Adler I would try to read it so he would have someone to rant to about it.” You shrugged, looking from the book to the Doctor’s face.

“Ah, as expected, you truly are an idiot, just simply following the crowds and what people tell you to do instead of using your brain to come to your own decisions and calculations,” he sighed, as if disappointed in the outcome, “Though I don’t know what I expected from a security girl exactly. I should not have gotten my hopes up, I suppose.”

“You seem awfully sure of your abilities,” you commented offhandedly as the elevator finally reached the right floor, metal doors opening, and you and the doctor stepping out, “Interesting how this ‘security girl’ has managed to best you twice in one night. I suppose even the smartest people can be bested.”

Alone on this secluded floor, you could feel the tension building behind you, a glance in the reflection of your water bottle once again showing the Doctor clenching his fists in anger. It was kind of funny, you pondered, how someone such as him had no outlet for his emotions. Yet, the anger now was different, as if his body was a volcano on the brink of expkosion.

You heard his arm move before you saw anything.

In an instant, you let Adler’s book, the bookmark falling out of the marked pages, and your water bottle fall to floor, arm moving upwards towards your head to block the force of his codex from hitting you. Clearly surprised, the Doctor had no time to react when you turned on your heal, grabbing his wrists and slamming him into the wall beside the elevator, his muscular arms firmly held in his grasp. He attempted to wiggle free, his muscles clenching against your arms, but your grip remained solid, holding him there despite the height and size difference between your bodies.

He stared at you in shock, those golden eyes that he just loved to glare at you now wide an innocent like a childs, his lips parted slightly in shock as he blinked cluelessly at you. He almost looked beautiful then, your mind conceded, someone as stubborn as him put into his place by a woman half his size. The heat between you two was obvious, growing by the second as you held him there, staring into those pretty eyes just liked you owned them.

You had expected you would be pinning some man against the wall tonight. Though your predictions were not as exact as expected, and least the core of the guess had come true.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” your voice came out as a whisper as you held his wrists against the wall, speaking into his ear, “See, Mr. Ratio, though you may be some stupid academic genius with outstanding credentials and a stellar reputation, you clearly lack any common decency and respect.” Your breath fanned his face as you talked, “Calling me a girl, insulting the security team. You’re someone who doesn’t know their place here, so let me make that clear to you.”

You released one of his pinned arms, though his body seemed to shock to move away. You let your hand trail down his defined jaw, tilting his head downwards so he has no way to look away from your gaze. Your body felt sweaty again, hair sticking to your forehead much like it had earlier. Your love for tension, your craving for control, they were all shining through right now as you practically degraded the man in front of you.

“You have the book smarts. I have the street smarts… so next time you think about swinging that codex at me, know your place. I won’t be so merciful next time.” You let the one hand holding his wrist dig into his flesh slightly, twisting and flinching it until the Doctor winced, involuntarily letting out a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper.

You released his other wrist then, satisfied with your work, but he remained against the wall for a second, as if too shocked to move. You were quick to turn around, grabbing your items from the floor, before strutting away, “Come on, Mr. Ratio… Your room is this way.”

[sunlightmurdock]

The Odyssey | 1.6 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

synopsis: desperate times call for desperate measures when repairing bridges burned.

warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), swearing, infidelity, nudity, mentions of erections, them being mean to each other, idiots in love.

…

The sun sets over the city. Tears streak your cheeks. Bradley’s blue shirt sits dry-cleaned and hung on a borrowed wooden hanger against the doorframe. A chill catches your shoulders and your first instinct is to look over at it. You should hand it back.

“Honey, talk to me,” He pleads, his voice static through the worn out reciever. “I love you. You know I love you. That was just— it was just a stupid fight—“

Venom sits on your tongue, your nose wrinkling like the sound of his voice put that foul taste there. 

“If you say that to me one more time,” Your voice wavers and cracks. The lump in your throat aches with each swallow. You close your eyes as another roar of laughter comes from outside of your window. “Then we’re done.”

Malcolm falls silent. 

He’s standing in the twelfth floor apartment facing the Hudson that you had been so desperate for a few months ago. The phone line is just about the only thing connected, the movers are due next week with the furniture you had picked together.

He wanted it to be perfect for when you got back.

After the wedding, your new home would be ready for you.

Stuck in the entryway, the phone cord tugs as he lets his head fall back against the wall. It’s midday for him, late evening for you. He hasn’t told you that he has taken the past two days off of work; that he hasn’t slept with the thought of never hearing from you again.

He’s sick to his stomach.

“I won’t.” He all but whimpers. Rubbing a hand over his jaw, it’s dusted with a stubble he never usually allows to grow. “I won’t. You’re right. It wasn’t. I’m sorry, honey, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry.” You say it back to him without an ounce of question in your tone. Repeating it to him like it’ll make him realize that those two words are far from being enough. 

“Yes, I’m sorry!” He pleads. Even while staring at the painting of a boat hung above the hotel dresser, you can see the exact look that would be on his face. “I’m so sorry. I would never hurt you. You know that, sweetheart. Right?”

You would hurt him. It occurs to you suddenly that you wouldn’t just do it, you might even enjoy doing it. You could, in six syllables. I slept with someone else. This morning, you were perfectly content in bed with someone else. You had told Bradley that you were ready.

Maybe that was just a heat of the moment thing, maybe it wasn’t. You aren’t sure. It would hurt Malcolm either way; to know you had, or to find out you hadn’t but had so badly wanted to.

And you had, so badly, wanted to. When you close your eyes you’re confronted with memories of his weight above you, and his mouth on your skin and that half-smiling look he gets on his face when he really wants you.

A month and a half ago, you couldn’t have dreamed of hurting Malcolm. 

Right now, you should be sitting against his thigh while he strokes at your hair and the two of you are laughing about a work story. Maybe the two of you would take that little pre-wedding trip up to Cape Cod, like you had talked about.

When you close your eyes and picture yourself there, looking into his steely blue eyes, you’re colder than ever. Wondering just how long exactly he had been planning to pretend like he hadn’t acted like a complete pig. Wondering how long it would be, really, before he would disrespect you like that again. 

“I don’t forgive you,” You tell him, colder than he has ever heard you be. “You’re a pig, and a liar — and I’m going to take as long as I want to decide if I ever want to speak to you again.”

He’s quiet for a long while.

“I understand.” 

He doesn’t. He can’t possibly understand the way he has made you feel. 

Your teeth are gritted, tears burning in your eyes. “I don’t know if I want to ever even look at you again. Do you understand that?”

“I do, honey, and I’m so sorry. It was a drunken mistake and I wish I could take it back, I do—“

You don’t want to listen, and it occurs to you suddenly, that you don’t have to. You weigh the reciever in your hand.

“I’ll call you. When I’m ready.” 

Then, you drop it down onto the stand, ending the call. Bradley has made it very clear that he has no interest in seeing you today. According to Pasquale, he has been back for a few hours now already. You don’t have your ring back just yet.

Your bed feels strange without the weight you spent the last six days growing familiar with, but sleep comes for you in a few restless, hour-stretched intervals anyway.

All the while, Bradley rolls the band between his index finger and thumb, watching the light catch on the twinkling diamond. Silence all around him, the hotel sleeps peacefully while he sits alone on the veranda. He’s up earlier than anyone else.

You were right— this ring probably would have cost more money than he makes most years. He could make more, if he put his personal research on the back burner. He just hadn’t realized that’s what it would take to be with you.

There’s a bitterness to the thoughts that bite at him; when he’s laying in your bed, kissing you, is it something that crosses your mind? Are you concerned about if he’ll be able to provide for you? He could. He already has been, beyond monetarily. With him, you don’t have to worry that one of his touches wouldn’t be gentle.

It brings him back to the first image he had of you — self-centred, arrogant, spoiled. In this time he has spent with you, he had seen something more. He’s not wounded enough to pretend that he only sees the worst parts of you. There’s so much more. 

There’s a spark to you, when he really gets you talking that captures his attention in a way he wasn’t prepared for. A thoughtfulness, a softness. There are so many things about you that draw him in. But, it’s not up to him. 

If you want to be that spoiled little girl, he can’t stop you. 

He has been awake for hours already, watching the city of Siena, trying to make peace with the fact that this is surely over. He should have handed your ring back when he arrived. Back then, he had told himself that he kept it because he hadn’t wanted to wake you. At 6pm.

Faced with solitude and views of the Piazza Del Campo, he can be honest with himself; he just doesn’t want to give it back.

And, that seems to be the worst part. He’s got a decade of years on you, and infinitely more experience with the way the world really works, and he still can’t settle on the right answer. He knows what the correct move would be — to let you go home and pretend this never happened. 

At the precipice of your adult life, he has thrown such a damning spanner into the works by letting himself get wrapped up like this. If the ring cost as much as it did, Bradley can only imagine the kind of money your families must have spent on the wedding. He’s an idiot for thinking you were ever going to give it up.

He should have just curved your grade, or told you earlier that you should switch out of his class. Maybe he wanted to teach you a lesson, of sorts. Having to work for things rather than having them handed to you, something like that. 

He shouldn’t have let you kiss him, or kissed you back. It’s a little late for all the ‘shouldn’t have’s’ now, but Bradley figures that it’s about time to stop adding to the list of them. 

Before his meeting, he slides the ring under your door and leaves without a word. Giving it back is one thing— having to look you in the eye while he handed it over would be another thing entirely.

Then, straightening and fiddling with his tie as he walks, he takes his short walk through Siena’s streets. 

His meeting takes him through the early morning, and right past the time he promised Pasquale he’d be back to lead this morning’s event.

He rushes into the hotel lobby, finding his group strewn around couches and the ground, all bored to the point of silence. And then you, staring right at him.

You’re wearing a white blouse and linen shorts, sunglasses and sandals. He’s wearing a thick white shirt and a blue tie, tucked into dress pants that are a little darker than cream. His hair is windswept and messy, his tie loosened and his top button undone.

Even all dressed up, he finds a way to be a little bit himself. Just a little bit rugged, out of place — exceptionally handsome, his tie bringing out the gold in his tan. 

He looks back at you, brown eyes trailing you head to toe, then looks away with a discernible disconnect. The adam’s apple in his throat bobs as he tugs at his tie, wiggling it out of place.

“So, did you get it?” Luke prompts.

Your head turns, and Bradley looks back to you in the absence of being watched. You frown, confused as to why you don’t know as much as Luke does. You’re the one spending afternoons and evenings with Bradley, cuddled against him.

“Yeah,” Bradley says, still looking at you, “I did.”

He’s staying in Italy, for two more weeks after he sends the rest of you home. He’ll need just one research assistant. It should be Luke. It could have given him two more weeks with you.

He shakes his head as Luke opens up his mouth to continue this conversation, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I need to shower. Why don’t you guys head down to the piazza, and I —uh— I’ll catch up with you all.”

He needs to get away from you and the way you’re looking at him. He can’t stand that look on your face now that you’ve slipped that ring back onto your left hand. It was the first thing he saw, glinting at him ostentatiously in the morning light. 

Bradley doesn’t give anyone a chance to dispute, either, digging his hand into his front pocket to grab his key.

He hates you. You freaked out at him, and he doesn’t want you anymore. You watch him go, eyes wide. As the group begins to bustle, you’re left with a wounded feeling in your middle. No one has ever wanted you the way Bradley does, and you ruined it.

He turns, and starts for the stairs. Broad shoulders tapering into his waist, long legs in loose pants. You never thought you would miss the sight of his jean shorts, and the way they hug him in all the right places. 

Robin watches you looking after him, just waiting to see if you’ll follow. 

Pressing your lips firmly together, you adjust the strap of your bag to sit more comfortably against your shoulder. Then, you march right past her and join the rest of the group outside. 

She almost hums. Surprise coats her features unmistakably as she wanders out into the cobbled street and loops her arm through Luke’s. Maybe it is over between the two of you after all, whatever ‘it’ was. 

Pasquale compensates for Bradley’s absence with plenty of breaks in the shade that Bradley’s rigorous lecturing rarely allows for. As much as his content remains the same, he lacks the same conviction with which Bradley is able to talk about all of this. 

You’re practically asleep standing up, dragging your heels against weathered streets as he rattles on about Saint Bernardino. Heat prickles at the back of your neck, a bead of perspiration trailing down under the neat collar of your white blouse. 

Sparks tickle the base of your spine as fingertips skim across your skin.

“Excuse me.” Bradley’s deep voice makes you jolt as he angles his shoulder and moves to brush past you. Exactly an hour late to the tour he was supposed to be leading, he doesn’t even look down at you as he passes by.

He’s wearing a faded white graphic t-shirt and those offensively short trunks he wears sometimes even when he doesn’t plan to swim, his sunglasses settled onto the bridge of his nose and his curls still damp from his shower.

Your fingers catch on his forearm. 

“Can I speak with you? Please?” You huff out, gnawing at your lip as your chest rises and falls with each deep breath. The sudden silence draws some attention, as Pasquale stops speaking up front. 

Bradley pauses. Everyone, again, is staring at the two of you. You couldn’t just let him pass you by. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he looks you over, white sandals and a simple blue dress, Dior sunglasses set atop the bridge of your nose and a ridiculous, impractically small bag set against your shoulder.

He can’t act like a jilted lover. He isn’t one. He can’t act like this is a break-up. This isn’t one. 

“Make it quick, Ashworth — some of us have work to do.” 

You flinch. A few chuckles come from somewhere in the group. Humiliation burns through you in a foreign way, something so much worse than the other times that Bradley has called you by Malcolm’s name. It’s tainted now.

Bradley watches your bottom lip wobble. You swallow it down and straighten up, squaring your shoulders and settling your chin up high. He bites at the inside of his cheek, tucking his paperwork under his arm.

“Fine. Let’s talk right here.” Your voice shakes just a little. Enough to let him know that you’re only provoking him now because he has backed you into a corner. “Would you like me to apologize first for insulting your salary or for intruding on this stupid little trip to begin with—“

He shakes your hand off of him and catches your bicep. Your mouth hangs open as he hauls you backwards, dipping into the shade of an alleyway. 

“No, no! — If you want to be mean, then I can be mean too—“

He finally stops dragging you with him once he has thrown you around a corner and backed you up against a crumbling wall. He gives a small shake of his head, the warmth of his eyes lost behind his dark lenses.

“I don’t want to be mean to you,” Bradley says softly. “But I don’t know how I’m supposed to get through these last three weeks with you staring at me like I broke your heart. It isn’t fair.”

“So talk to me!” You urge him. He steps back as you step forwards. As you reach for him, he turns and paces a few steps away, then takes a seat on the little stone bench in front of the opposite wall.

“Okay,” He rubs at his temple, then pulls his sunglasses from his face. “I think that we’ve been kidding ourselves here. All that I’ve been doing is screwing up what you’ve been working towards — if you want to marry that jackass, I won’t stand in your way.”

The corners of your lips twitch for a second before you tug them downward into a discernible frown. Maybe something to do with hearing Bradley call Malcolm a jackass. Still, your brows furrow and your face becomes stormy.

You step between his parted knees. “Kidding ourselves? — That’s what this was to you? — A joke?”

He shakes his head, sitting back against the wall, grabbing your hips in his hands. “No. That’s not what I was saying and you know that.”

“So, what are you saying?” You challenge him.

There’s a beat between you. It gets about as silent as Siena ever does in the middle of tourist season, and for a second the two of you feel alone on that little side street.

Tucked between two weathered, orange painted buildings, Bradley strokes his thumbs across the space between your shorts and the hem of your blouse. The pads of his thumbs feel like fire against your bare skin. 

Maybe the wind changes directions; something switches between the two of you briskly. He softens, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I think that this needs to stop.” He whispers, pressing his lips to the smooth skin of your stomach. Your fingers trail through the soft curls at the crown of his head, following where deep brown becomes soft auburn.

“I don’t want it to.” You whisper.

“It’s selfish,” He looks up, endlessly warm brown eyes locked on you. His thumbs circle your hipbones, cursing the soft linen for being in the way of him getting to feel your skin one last time. “Of me, to mess with your head like this.”

And of you, to let Bradley get as attached as he is. He holds your waist in his hands, thumbing at the waistband of your shorts just enough. His eyes fall shut with the glimpse of your skin as he nips at your hipbone, kissing from the right side to the left. 

“I can speak for myself,” You tell him, watching his warm mouth work across your navel. Right here in the open, just around a quiet corner, where anyone could see the two of you. Excitement pools between your legs, your hips angling toward his mouth. “And I’m fine.” 

“You’re not fine.” Bradley looks up, cocking his head like he dares you to continue this arguement. 

“Stop telling me what I am,” You scowl defiantly. “I’m fully capable of telling you myself.”

He stands up swiftly, towering. “So tell me.”

Your neck cranes uncomfortably, all to see the challenging look in his eyes. “Tell you what?”

“Tell me how this works. How this goes. How the fuck I’m supposed to watch you go back to him after all this?” He bites. Suddenly, you feel the weight of his palms holding onto your midsection. Your gaze flickers downward as your mind ponders over the depth of his tone.

He almost flinches as you look him in the eye again. Something downright analytical in the way you’re staring at him. Weighing up exactly what about what he had said that made it feel so different. Something far different from anger. 

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer him. 

“It’s over, I can’t keep doing this.” Bradley is unwaveringly firm. 

The first thought that crosses your mind isn’t the loneliness you had felt in the first two weeks here. You could survive that for your remaining three weeks. You’re going to miss the gentle graze of his fingertips on your knee, and the way he smiles at you sometimes, and the things he holds onto to tell you at the end of the day.

Undoubtedly, you would miss him. 

“That’s final.” He can’t hear you out; he doesn’t want to. He would change his mind too easily. It’s time to finally act like a grown-up and stick to what he says.

Your lips part and hang, eyes wide. That’s final. He doesn’t speak to you that way— not unless he wants an argument— and he’s going to get one. He gives you no chance, adjusting his sunglasses and walking way ahead in his long strides. 

It’s strange how fast your anger just becomes shame.

Maybe standing in the street and screaming at him would have made you feel better, maybe it would have changed something. In its absence, you’re left silent and surrounded. Crowds bustle around you, but Bradley’s not as easy to lose as you are. His brown curls stand out over the crowd, as his American accent carries across the blending conversations, starting his ongoing lecture about Siena’s economic role in early Italy.

You don’t want it to be final. 

It’s not fair. He can’t just toss you aside— even if it’s a defensive gesture. Your feet find their rhythm and you start to move finally, making minimal effort to catch the group. You’re stuck on that idea, realizing that you have put him in a very familiar position.

He learned his lesson with Natasha, he hurt her trying to hold on and she left him anyway. Maybe he’s just trying to save both of you from the hurt this time.

Bradley’s accent fades and fades until you’re in a crowd of just unfamiliar conversation, your pace slowing until you’ve stopped all together. He doesn’t want to be around you, fine. You can give him space, you’ve got a severely neglected checking account and a seriously fogged mind to clear up.

You close your eyes and gather your bearings, turning in a tight circle to survey the streets around you. Swallowing at the lump in your throat, you take a breath and reach into your bag. 

Headphones settled over your ears, Walkman playing a Roy Orbison classic, you straighten your shoulders and start walking.

There are a pair of shiny, dangly earrings that you pick up in a little boutique. A pair of heels that you most definitely don’t have room in your suitcase for in a designer store. A brand new blue swimsuit from a store with a male attendant that had been far too eager to help you.

You’re just about considering yourself done spending, walking along a street that must be about a mile from your hotel given how long you have been walking. 

Then, you catch sight of a woman leaving a store. She’s supermodel tall, with a long, slender neck and a serious face. Serious in the kind of way that makes men go weak in the knees. 

Your head tilts just slightly, watching her strut through the street ahead of you in six-inch heels and a tight little mini skirt. You’re not the only one watching, either. At least three men ahead of you turn their heads, watching in awe as she passes them by. Your gaze flits down to the little red bag in her hand, stuffed with black tissue paper.

Turning your head, you find the store she had appeared from. 

Three tall mannequins stand proudly posed in the window of the little boutique, dressed in bustiers and bras and stockings and… something even smaller than a thong.

You look between her and the store. It seems like a good idea in the moment. It seems like a good idea at the checkout, even. 

It seems like a good idea until you’re standing in the strange little bathroom at the very end of your hotel floor, feeling utterly ridiculous. Standing in a pink babydoll and it’s adorning thong, you try to picture yourself posed like one of those mannequins.

Sprawled across the bed in your hotel room with one knee bent and a hand on your hip, maybe, your finger poised against your lip. The idea makes you shiver. The thought of Bradley watching makes it worse.

He finds you sexy, sure. You’ve felt his erection pressing into you enough times to know that, at least. But that was when you had his attention, his affection. Now, it’s different.

You bite at the inside of your cheek, scrutinising the sheer fabric coating your reflection. You wonder if this is supposed to feel natural, if you’re supposed to feel sexy, if it comes naturally to everyone else except you.

You lift your hands and sweep your hair back over your shoulders, screwing your mouth into a displeased frown. You brush it forwards again, fidgeting and fidgeting with the way that you look.

At once, the door whips open. 

You haven’t even had time to open your mouth to shriek before Bradley barges in with his size thirteen Nikes and his papers under his arm, desperate to take a leak after spending his afternoon searching Siena for you. 

He hits you like a stack of bricks. He never makes the choice to save you over his work, it’s something instinctual instead. The papers all go flying as he grabs you by your arms to keep you from landing completely on your ass.

“Shit— shit.” Bradley’s hands are off of you from the second he realises who you are and what you’ve done to his neatly organised stack of sources. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck.” 

The weighted door swings shut behind him and you’re trapped with the man you’re trying to seduce, as he considers fishing three pages of work out of the toilet. He hasn’t even looked at you yet.

Your eyes are practically bulging out of your head, and your arms finally strike into motion, crossing over your chest in an attempt to cover yourself.

Bradley seems to decide that he is going to attempt to salvage the papers. He reaches out and the first time he touches you in forty-eight hours is to try to manhandle you out of his way. His fingers curl around the chiffon mix.

Instantly, the papers are forgotten and his eyes are on you. Dark and heavy, his pupils fade into the deep brown hue of his eyes. 

Without restraint, his gaze drops. You stand, frozen, hugging your arms to your chest to cover your breasts, heart thudding through the thin fabric.

He starts at your ankle, noticing the new anklet secured around it. You squeeze your eyes shut, veering away from the scrutiny of his gaze. 

Bradley’s thoughts are far from scrutinising you. He eyeballs the pale pink underwear through the fabric, taking his time in moving on until he finds the way you’re trying to cover your chest with your hands. You’re trembling, eyes squeezed shut.

The tag pokes out by your ribs. He cocks his head slightly as his gaze flickers downward, reminding himself that he’s still holding onto your hip. His thumb twitches toward the pink fabric, smoothing over the thin line where the g-string covers your skin.

“What’s this?” He’s still holding it, his big, stupid, hand is still holding onto your hip.

“… Lingerie.” You answer him quietly, shrinking backward like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. He follows you without moving, curling his fingers into the skimpy fabric.

“Right,” Bradley acknowledges. His gaze flickers downward again, willing his cock to keep it together and not stretch the fabric of his jeans. “Where’d you get it?”

“I wasn’t— I just wanted— this isn’t—“

Bradley straightens up and finally remembers to take his hand off you. The stumbling step he takes back makes him hit the lock on the door, and finally he thinks to lock it for real. His tongue dips from his mouth, wetting his pink lips as his hand palm scrubs at his clean shaven jaw.

“You drive me crazy,” He whispers, almost in disbelief. “You’re driving me crazy. What is this?” 

“It’s…” You pause, and fidget and throw your arms up exhasperatedly. “It’s supposed to be… I just wanted you to look at me again.”

If he wanted to be cruel, he could tell you that you’re being ridiculous and that playing dress up isn’t the way to make an apology. He would’ve, at the beginning of this trip. Now, his heart just sinks to his stomach at the thought of you so desperate for his attention. He wants to give it to you.

A muscle in his jaw ticks. He looks you up and down once more, this time pausing for longer. With your arms out of the way, he can see your flushed nipples peaked against the fabric and the way your chest trembles with each breath. 

He swallows thickly, suddenly forgetting that his work is disintegrating in the toilet water.

“I’ve been looking at you this whole time,” He says tightly, kind of like it pains him to compliment you with what you’re putting him through. “But I meant what I said, baby, I’m done.”

He takes a step back and bumps the door, cursing this country for building its bathrooms without guys like him in mind. He crowds the space, finding it impossible to back away from you and somehow even harder to keep his hands to himself.

Your mouth straightens into a line and he just knows that he’s got another argument on his hands. He isn’t in the mood to be argued with in a bathroom.

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t.” He says firmly, willing himself to keep his eyes on your face and hoping you’ll offer him the same courtesy, so that you don’t notice the semi straining against his jeans. 

He glances down at the strewn around pages. 

“Now will you give me a minute?” 

“No, not unless you’ll talk to me. You can’t avoid me forever.” You bargain, taking a step towards him and resting your fingers against his bicep. Bradley practically flinches, taking a step back and letting your hand fall to the space between you. 

He successfully avoided you noticing that even now he’s trying to protect the both of you from this, you’ve still got him wrapped around your finger. Your lip trembles. He can’t help himself, taking another glance downward at the pink chiffon on your body.

His hand flies up to rub at his temples, an exasperated sigh forcing its way out of his lips. 

“If I say you can work with me, you’ll get out so that I can take a piss?” He huffs, already irritated with how much of a struggle that’s going to be because of the southbound blood situation. Your eyes widen at the promise of time with him. “Fine. Get out.”

Leaving your original clothes on the counter, you turn swiftly and push open the door to your side of the bathroom. Bradley stares at your ass, covered by a thin layer of chiffon and a thong. He has never seen you in a thong. His mouth dries.

As your door swings shut behind you, Bradley instantly steps forward to lock it. Then, he turns his head and examines himself in the mirror— straining against his jeans and pointing right for you. Wrapped. Around. Your finger.

Scrubbing a hand along his jaw, he exhales deeply and closes his eyes for a moment. Painted on the inside of his eyelids is the image of you in his shirt a week ago, your hip popped and skin spilling out from inside, as you had waved at him from that window. How confident you had looked.

The way you’d keened into his touch.

He doesn’t know how to explain this part. It’s why it’ll never work. He doesn’t want lacy, frilly clothes that make you hide yourself. He wants that look in your eyes, and that smile on your lips — the tone your voice takes when you know you’re really riling him up.

Sure, the sight of you in that pretty pink get up damn near made his brain stop functioning, but he didn’t like the look on your face. He doesn’t like the way you spoke to him yesterday, and he knows that he can’t keep playing with your head like this.

But then, his gaze flickers downward towards the countertop. Nestled to the right of your neatly folded clothes, glinting at him once again, is that stupid fucking ring. All by itself, far from where it should be sitting around your finger.

…

tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @cassiemitchele @himbos-on-ice @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @cherrycola27 @kmc1989 @sugarcoated-lame @mshistorylover

[maybankslove]

the summer that changed everything

an outer banks rewrite!

plot: what happens when y/n miller and her friends come across a wreck that will change everything in their life. from old family secrets that were covered up and trying to discover the truth about herself to chasing the adventure of a lifetime in places she never expected, how will her story unfold?

pairing: jj maybank x y/n miller

warnings: violence, drug use, death, abuse, emotional distress, swearing

more specific warnings will be given for each chapter!

a/n: i do not own the outer banks storyline! i came up with this plot idea myself so please do not steal it, if it is similar to someone else’s idea i apologise :) let me know if you like this idea and want me to continue!

characters

prologue

chapters:

season one:

chapter 1.1: pilot

chapter 1.2: the lucky compass (new!)

chapter 1.3: the forbidden zone

chapter 1.4: spy games

chapter 1.5: midsummers

chapter 1.6: parcel 9

chapter 1.7: dead calm

chapter 1.8: the runway

chapter 1.9: the bell tower

chapter 1.10: the phantom

season two:

chapter 2.1: the gold

chapter 2.2: the heist

chapter 2.3: prayers

chapter 2.4: homecoming

chapter 2.5: the darkest hour

chapter 2.6: my druthers

chapter 2.7: the bonfire

chapter 2.8: the cross

chapter 2.9: trapped

chapter 2.10: the coastal venture

season three:

chapter 3.1: poguelandia

chapter 3.2: the bells

chapter 3.3: fathers and sons

chapter 3.4: the diary

chapter 3.5: heists

chapter 3.6: the dark forest

chapter 3.7: happy anniversary

chapter 3.8: tapping the rudder

chapter 3.9: welcome to kitty hawk

chapter 3.10: secret of the gnomon

season four:

chapter 4.1: the enduro

chapter 4.2: blackbeard

chapter 4.3: the lupine corsairs

chapter 4.4: the swell

chapter 4.5: albatross

chapter 4.6: the town council

chapter 4.7: mothers and fathers

chapter 4.8: family plot

chapter 4.9: the storm

chapter 4.10: the blue crown

season five:

tba

[spadesolace]

the idea of yoo

pairings: highschool au! karina x fem!reader smau

synopsis: in a small town called kwangya, there's not much going on aside from familiar faces, small annual events, and little to none attractions. what happens when naoi y/n was given an offer she can't refuse? the catch is the job to ghostwrite letters for choi yeonjun's crush, yoo jimin?

spade speaks: this entire thing is inspired by the half of it, you can read this without watching it

tags: strangers to lovers, fluff, a bit of angst, a short smau

warning/s: bullying, homophobia, emotional cheating, discussion about religion

featuring: yeonjun (txt), jeno (nct)

status: started (09/25/23) - completed (11/23/23)

CHAPTERS

prologue.

0.1. yeonjun's letter

0.2. the first letter

0.3. exchange of letters

0.4. the (horrible) date

0.5. another chance

0.6. what do you like about jimin?

0.7. date number 2

0.8. how to move on?

0.9. the recital

1.0. after party

1.1. alone with yoo

1.2. yeonjun’s dance battle

1.3. heartbreaks

1.4. what even is love?

1.5. confrontations

1.6. the best part.

epilogue

taglist [CLOSED]:

@1luvkarina @beawolfbealionbeyou @pandafuriosa60 @txtbrainrot @rinapomu @limbforalimb @yoontoonwhs @noascats @thefckghost @petruchiosstuff

[acesw]

a short patch timeline on reverse 1999

So I've been going back and forth for almost a year now on comprehending and helping people comprehend the timeline in Reverse: 1999 because oh my god, it's so, so convoluted that it's still taking a long time for me to even write down the information without overexplaining it. And that's just the main story.

However, I've been able to piece together the timeline events by patch and chapter to make things easier for everyone. (...unless you want me to even include the anecdotes, which is another can of worms I'd like to not open.)

However, since 2.0 forwards will be taking place after 1.9, I won't be including the patch names. But, I will put their placements in the timeline without making specific notes to avoid spoilers.

I'd like to first note that 1.6 (Notes on Shuori) has no definite placement on the timeline. The reason why is that 1.6 is personally considered a timeline anomaly; there are plot holes and information that made it difficult to deduce when it took place. (i.e. Yenisei's origins, Getian's character story, Bessmert's* presence) For now, I will leave this out.

Additionally, a lot of the character stories take place between the past and the future. Thus, the character story that chronologically takes place the earliest by far is Lucy's while the latest would be Ezra's.

—

First of all, we start with 1.8 (Farewell, Rayashki) in its entirety. From Windsong's past, to her arrival in Rayashki, to when the second "Storm" took place, and Vila and the kids needed to adjust to this new normal.

Next is Chapter 3 (Nouvelles et Textes pour Rien) and Chapter 5's interchapter. (The Star) Both the story of Vertin's becoming of the Timekeeper, and Greta Hofmann's experience with the Apeiron group are both aligned. Greta even mentions Vertin in her log after returning to the Foundation.

Afterwards we skip to 4 years later, and we're now in 1966. (Post First "Storm") Three events occur here. First, 1.1, (Theft of the Rimet Cup) then 1.3, (Journey to Mor Pankh) and then finally, the Prologue of our story. (This is Tomorrow)

Its then quite straightforward afterwards. We immediately follow up with the first 4 Chapters taking us through 1929 to late 1913. Then afterwards, we have Chapters 5-7 taking place within the first 3 weeks of January 1914, and then we're immediately taken to August 1990 at the end of Chapter 7.

I'd like to also add that within those 3 chapters, both rougelikes (Echoes in the Mountains and Series of Dusks) took place within the same time. Although, Series of Dusks ends before Chapter 7 due to Semmelweis and Lorelei leaving with the Foundation right before the "Storm" hit.

Now, in 1990, we start with 1.2 (Nightmare at Green Lake) followed by patches 2.0-2.2, all of which take place in immediate succession. And then for now, we end with 1.5. (Revival! Of the Uluru Games)

So if I put all of these in one list, it looks like this:

Notes on Shuori (1.6) - Undetermined placement

Farewell, Rayashki (1.8) - 1999+1 (1996) -> 1999+2 (1985)

Nouvelles et Textes pour Rien + The Star (Ch. 3 and Ch. 5 Interchapter) - 1999+4 (1987)

Theft of the Rimet Cup (1.1) - March 1966

Journey to Mor Pankh (1.3) - April-May 1966

This is Tomorrow (Prologue) - Jun. 3 1966 -> Feb. 14 1929

In Our Time (Ch. 1) - Feb. 14 1929

Tender is the Night (Ch. 2) - Feb. 15 1929 -> Aug. 1913

Nouvelles et Textes pour Rien (Ch. 3 - Present Time) - Aug. 25 1913

El Oro de Los Tigres (Ch. 4) - Aug. 26 -> Oct. 10 1913

Prisoner in The Cave (Ch. 5) - Dec. 24 - Jan. 4 1914

The Star (Ch. 5 - Interchapter) - Jan. 4 1914

Echoes in the Mountain (Rougelike 1) - Undetermined time, before Jan. 8 1914

E lucevan le Stelle (Ch. 6) - Jan. 6-12 1914

Series of Dusks (Rougelike 2) - Jan. 8-13 1914

Vereinsamt (Ch. 7) - Jan. 12-13 1914 -> Aug. 1990

Nightmare of Green Lake (1.2) - Sept. - Oct. 1990

Patches 2.0 - 2.2 - Sept. - Nov. 1990

Revival! Of the Uluru Games (1.5) - Jan 1991

The story can only get even more convoluted from here. As of the moment, I've been sort of working on a larger timeline to piece the entire story together, especially since we've yet to finish it before the story ends. New stories and information continuously flows in the meantime.

[03jyh23]

— capturing us || choi san

every moment captured with you is a masterpiece painted with love, each frame a testament to the beauty of our journey together

vlogger!san x reader

genre: fluff

trigger warnings: none!

words: 1.6 k

reminder: what you're about to read is purely fiction, so let's keep it separate from reality.

minors do not interact

— hi there! thank you @monstaxdirtywonk for requesting this prompt, i hope you will like it! in my country spring has finally arrived, and since it's my favorite season i can't help but write about it.

love, monika. ♡

Spring was your favorite season. The vibrant blossoms, the lush greenery enveloping you, and the gentle caress of sunshine on your skin filled you with boundless joy. With the first sip of your beloved iced coffee, the perfection of spring seemed complete. Yet, amidst all this beauty, there was one presence that outshone even the splendor of the season - Choi San, the one you cherished above all else. Spring always brought a sense of renewal and joy, but nothing compared to the warmth that San brought into your life. With him, every moment felt like the perfect blend of sunshine, laughter, and love. As you sipped on your favorite iced coffee, you couldn't help but smile, knowing that spring was made even more beautiful with him by your side. 

Describing San as merely handsome felt like a gross understatement; he embodied all that was good and beautiful in this world. When his smile lit up his face and reached the depths of his eyes, it was as if the entire universe aligned just to witness that moment. He was the epitome of perfection, your favorite sight in the whole world full of wonders. In San's embrace, every doubt melted away, for his love was a constant beacon of warmth and reassurance. Never did you question his love, for his actions spoke volumes, always placing your comfort and happiness above all else. With him, there was never a moment of feeling unloved or unseen, as he showered you with care and attention in ways both big and small. His selflessness knew no bounds. In his arms, you found solace and security, knowing that you were cherished beyond measure. 

In the park, surrounded by the vibrant energy of spring, even the people passing by seemed to carry an extra bounce in their step, their smiles mirroring the blossoming flowers around them. As you waited for San to wrap up his recording for his latest vlog, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride witnessing his passion for filming flourish. From humble beginnings to now, with a growing community of subscribers, his dedication was inspiring. This year marked the third chapter of your relationship, as you watched him work, you marveled at how far you had come together, cherishing every milestone and triumph along the way.  

Returning from the depths of your thoughts, you were greeted by the familiar click of a camera. Following the sound, your eyes lit up as you saw San, your heart swelling with affection as you realized he was the one behind the lens. His mischievous grin mirrored your own bright smile, with him by your side, every instant was a precious memory.  

"I like seeing you smile." San's words danced in the air, wrapping around you. His tender affirmation ignited an even brighter smile on your lips, your heart fluttering with joy at his sweet sentiment. ''So beautiful...’’ As he swiftly pressed the camera button, freezing the moment in time, his whispered declaration washed over you, filling you with a sense of pure adoration. In his eyes, you saw reflected the depth of his affection, a love that made every moment infinitely beautiful. 

"Well, hello to you too," you greeted playfully, rising from the bench. San's response was immediate, his arms enveloping you in a gentle embrace as if he couldn't bear to be apart from you for another moment. 

"Hi, my love," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine affection. "I couldn’t wait to kiss you." As San leaned in to press a gentle, feather-like kiss against your lips, a wave of tenderness washed over you. In the early days of your relationship, there were whispers of "puppy love" and the expectation that it would eventually fade after the first year. Mentally preparing yourself for this supposed shift, you braced for changes that never came. But as time passed, you realized that your love defied such constraints. With each passing day, your connection only grew stronger, deepening into something far beyond the fleeting infatuation of puppy love. Your relationship was anchored in mutual respect, understanding, and unwavering support, traits that only strengthened as you journeyed through life together. 

"How did the recording go?" You asked, intertwining your fingers with San's as you began to stroll down your favorite path in the park. With each step, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble of happiness. San smiled warmly, his gaze softening as he recounted the day's events.  

"It went really well," he replied, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "I lost to Yunho about three times, but it’s fine. He was always a better gamer than me." You chuckled, imagining their friendly competition.  

"Well, at least you gave it your best shot," you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Besides, it's all in good fun, right?" San nodded a playful glint in his eyes.  

"Exactly! Plus, I'll just have to practice more for our next gaming session." Yunho and San's friendship traced back to their teenage years, they bonded over shared interests and endless hours of gaming together. Initially, they started their YouTube journey with a joint channel, where they showcased their gaming prowess and took on various challenges. However, as time passed, San's creative aspirations blossomed, and he yearned to explore more artistic avenues through his vlogs. Recognizing this, they made the mutual decision to branch out and create separate channels, each tailored to their individual passions. Yunho's channel became a haven for gaming enthusiasts, where he could delve deep into his love for video games and connect with like-minded viewers. Meanwhile, San's channel emerged as a platform for his artistic expression, showcasing his unique perspective through visually captivating videos and thought-provoking content. 

"I’ve been working on the vlog from our trip to Rome " San shifted the conversation, his tone filled with excitement. "And my favourite shots are with you... " The truth was, fame held a certain fear for you, and the thought of being recognizable sent unpleasant shivers down your spine. It wasn't that you didn't support San's endeavors or take pride in his accomplishments; rather, the idea of stepping into the spotlight yourself felt daunting. San, ever understanding and considerate of your feelings, made a conscious effort to respect your privacy. He never mentioned you in any of his content, carefully safeguarding your relationship from the prying eyes of fame. Three years had passed, and San's desire to share your love with the world had only grown stronger. Despite accumulating a treasure trove of videos featuring you two together, he had refrained from posting them out of respect for your privacy. Yet, deep down, he had a silent hope that one day, he could introduce you to his audience, showcasing the beauty of your love. The thought of sharing your journey with others filled him with excitement and anticipation, a dream he held dear to his heart. 

"San..." you sighed softly, feeling a mix of apprehension and affection at his words. 

"I know, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with understanding. "I know you’re scared, but it’s just... I really want to show you off in my art." In these words, a gentle plea echoed. While the thought of being exposed to the world still made you nervous, you couldn't deny the sincerity and love in his words. San didn't see you as a mere subject for his videos; he viewed you as a muse, an integral part of his creative expression. "You know I won’t let anyone hurt you"  

"I know," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with gratitude for his unwavering protection. "I trust you completely." With his reassurance echoing in your mind, you took a deep breath and met his gaze, allowing yourself to be vulnerable in his presence. In his eyes, you found a place where fear dissolved into the warmth of his love. 

"Okay, San," you whispered softly, "Let's do it." San's sweet laugh filled the air, in one swift motion, he enveloped you in his arms and lifted you off the ground, spinning you around in a whirlwind of happiness. 

"I can't believe you finally agreed!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with delight. Caught up in the moment, you couldn't help but laugh along with him, feeling a surge of exhilaration and contentment coursing through your veins. In his embrace, you found courage and reassurance. "I love you so much," San whispered tenderly, his voice carrying the weight of his affection as he gently set you back down on the ground. With a gentle touch, he lifted your chin, drawing you in for a sweet and lingering kiss. After pulling out of the kiss, San wasted no time and immediately started recording. Surprised and a bit flustered, you couldn't help but laugh at his spontaneity.  

"What are you doing?" You chuckled, trying to compose yourself as he aimed the camera at both of you. 

"I'm not letting this moment slip away," he replied with a grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Hi, everyone," he addressed the camera, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "I couldn't wait any longer to introduce you to someone very special to me." And as he spoke those words, a mixture of emotions swirled within you— anticipation, nerves, but above all, a deep sense of love and appreciation for the man standing before you. With San by your side, you felt ready to embrace whatever the future held, knowing that your love would guide you through every adventure, on and off camera. 

[starguardianniom]

Hugo and Vivian after playing 1.6

I finished the chapter this morning, I'm still processing it. But it was so freaking good, so awesome, so wholesome, I loved it. Loved it just as much as Harumasa's agent story, we ate so good here. ^^

After this I'm even more sold on Vivian and Hugo, those kids are coming home, I'm adopting them, and getting their w-engines. I was set on all that before playing the update came up, but now I want them even more. I just want those 2 to be happy together and safe, they have such a nice sibling realtionship despite not being related, but Vivian loves Hugo like a big brother and he loves her like a little sister enough to the point of not wanting her to turn out like him and entrusting her in our care, and my heart, I'm so happy that he cares about her, sure he needs to go alone for his plans and I'm getting the feeling he doesn't bring her own so if he crash and burn she won't be dragged down with him, he protects her by pushing her away, feels like Lelouch and Nunally all over again I swear to god, and I'm so here for it.

Legit me after playing the chapter, this is how I feel for Hugo and Vivian now, crying while screaming to come home to me. I will have them, mark my words. But first I need to get Pulchra to come after getting her as a reward from that one event.

[whirligig-girl]

Eaurp Guz's roughly 1:30 scale live-steam model of Slaibsgloth Coal Railroad No.32, a ~1.6 meter gauge 2-8-8-2 garratt steam locomotive built on planet Mellanus in (earth-)year 2346 and retired in 2379 (two years ago) for service bringing coal carriages from the coal pits up to the interchange at the Glooiw & North Eastern. It is unusual for a coal burning steam engine to remain in revenue service--the majority that remained in use after the development of Diesel-Hydraulics were decommissioned with nuclear-powered railway electrification in the 2360s, and the ones that remained were mostly converted to oil burning. The Slaibsgloth steam engines meanwhile persisted right up until the closure of the coal mine. Glooiw & North Eastern has acquired the 40 locomotives. Their fates are uncertain but railway preservation groups remain optimistic.

When Guz first came aboard the Cerritos she was overworking herself constantly, which lead to her being so tired that she was leaving residues on the consoles and generally doing sloppier work. It turned out that Guz had been working double shifts, and when Billups found out he put a stop to that. That's when Guz turned to a hobby she'd done a lot of before joining starfleet--model rocketry. Armed with far more advanced tools than she'd had on Mellanus, she made accurate working model replicas of real historical prewarp spacecraft from a variety of planets and would fly them in real space whenever possible.

Eventually, she also found a new appreciation for her childhood love of trains, and her model-making skills and tools translated well to model railroading as well. She has a little shelf layout in storage that she occasionally tinkers with, and she runs large scale model trains on the holodeck. She could run full-scale holographic trains on the holodeck too of course, but it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying. And then there's the 1:5600 scale BM-gauge railroad she's building on a microscope slide! (Bµ gauge is "Byte micrometer" gauge or a track spacing of 256 µm)

Guz eventually wants to build a roughly 1:80 scale modular layout of the Slaibsgloth Coal Mine, with smaller scale electric-powered models of the Slaibsgloth coal-burning steam engines and enough track to wrap around a room and give them a good run, but unless she can rally support for a Cerritos chapter of the Starfleet Rail Transport Modelling Club or she can get her own crew quarters, it's a pipe dream--or maybe something for her retirement.

Replicators and advanced computer aided design tools reduce the amount of time it takes to get modelling projects done by whatever factor is desired. Technically Guz could probably replicate fully assembled working models as long as they fit in the replicator bed, but where's the fun in that? But she's still only got so much time in an off-shift, and doing it 'properly,' scratch-built using machine tools like 'real' modellers on Mellanus, or manually defining all of the geometry in a CAD program like modellers on Earth, would take too much time.

see also: alt versions of the locomotive.

[wearesecretmode]

Still Wakes the Deep: Siren’s Rest - Update 1.6

Hey everyone!

We’ve been thrilled to see your reaction to exploring the wreckage of the Beira D in Still Wakes the Deep: Siren’s Rest, the new paid story expansion. Today, we’re releasing a patch packed full of fixes and adjustments, much of which is driven by your feedback. Below is a full breakdown of what’s coming in the patch, available now on all platforms:

PATCH NOTES

Features:

Added a Memento collection menu, so players can track which mementos they’ve discovered

Added a Chapter Selector option, based on community feedback. Players can now head straight to the beginning of any chapter they have previously completed

Bug Fixes:

Fixed an issue that caused an invisible wall to appear and create a softlock when collecting a whisky bottle

Resolved multiple issues causing some players to experience blockers or softlocks when retracing their steps, potentially triggering previous checkpoints

Fixed an issue on Steam Deck where the game would have its width and height flipped when run in Desktop Mode

Made several improvements to the umbilical system for it to function in a more reliable way:

Fixes for the umbilical clipping through walls

Fixed an issue where the umbilical cord would be invisible when respawning or restarting from a checkpoint

General behaviour improvements

Fixed an issue where VSync would re-enable when leaving the options menu

Fixes related to upscalers and frame generation handling:

Lifted FPS limitations when using DLSS and Intel XeFG Frame Generation

Fixed an issue where the screen size was reset when using DLSS or FSR

DLSS-G Frame Generation can now only be enabled in Fullscreen

Intel XeFG can now only be enabled in Windowed Fullscreen

Fixed an issue with flickering textures when using XeSS

Fixed an issue that caused DLSS to turn off after closing the game

AMD FSR3 has been updated to 3.1.4

DLSS has been updated to 2025.04.16

Intel XeSS has been updated to v2.0.8.1

Various fixes and improvements around dialogue triggers

Updated and improved music, mixing, and sound effects throughout Siren’s Rest

Made several visual adjustments:

Fixed multiple visual and collision clipping issues in Siren’s Rest

Made several visual improvements to the dead bodies in Siren’s Rest

Removed the reticle during cutscenes

Fixed issues with camera transitions and player warping during cutscenes

Added more visual and audio warnings for oxygen depletion

Made adjustments and fixes to the antagonist encounter, providing more visual clarity

Updated several animations and visual effects during cutscenes

Improved the high contrast mode

Improved the look and feel of water and fog, as well as fixed several bugs related to water volumes

Various localisation issues fixed

Fixed an issue that caused Siren’s Rest to not be purchasable on Epic for some users

Please note: Some players may find their save spawn point being slightly further back than their last point of progression. This is to avoid any corrupted data. Your progress with achievements and mementos will remain the same.

That’s all for now. Thank you all so much. 🌊

[grayintogreen]

HELLO FELLOW NEIN AGAIN ENJOYERS. And happy Tombtakers Loredrop Day. Today I bring you a preview of a long term event coming this summer.

Are you sad that all the enticing lore dropped in CR2 episode "Fleeting Memories" might as well be an eternity away from bearing fruit? Did you think Cree was a fun NPC and wanted more of her? Are you a fan of fix-it fanfic that barely fixes anything and in fact just makes everything a little bit worse?

Well, I have something you might enjoy!

In honor of Nein Again reaching episode 26 on the day of LitMoR's fourth anniversary, I'm going to be running a weekly "bookclub" for the series to run parallel with Nein Again starting July 29th. You can find the full schedule for the entire duology, plus side stories and intermissions here (more dates to be added depending on where I get with the third mega novel and yet it's still going to take less time to get through than Nein Again). It runs exactly like Nein Again, only its a really long fanfic.

And you may be asking yourself? Uh, what's LitMoR? And I'm GLAD YOU ASKED.

life in the margins of redemption is a post-episode 26 canon divergent series I started writing four years ago after the end of Campaign Two to satiate my incredible need to retell the story but slightly to the left, keeping dead characters alive, making certain plot threads and themes more prevalent, and exploring some elements from the campaign that I thought were underdeveloped simply because those just weren't the things the cast wanted to focus on (and that is valid- this is in no way me going HERE'S MY BETTER VERSION OF CANON, it's a love letter to wanting more of these characters). At 1.6 million words and the main two stories of the duology remaining in the top three longest fics in the CR tag even after all these years, it is an absolute chonker and I'm still adding to it. It's a story that is very close to my heart and I thought it would be fun for people to either re-read or discover it while taking it in in bite-size chunks as you watch how it diverges from canon and goes off in wild new directions.

Below the cut is an FAQ ranging from what you can expect to the story to how the book club will be run if you'd like to participate. If there are any other questions, please don't hesitate to send me an ask! I look forward to seeing how this goes. Hopefully it'll be fun for the people who would love an excuse to reread and for new readers alike.

WHY ARE YOU DOING IT?

I've been told numerous times by people that LitMoR looks interesting, but is ultimately very daunting and intimidating. By promoting a book club, I hope that maybe those people who have wanted to read it will find it easier to do so. Also a lot of people who have read it thought it would be cool to do.

WHAT WILL WE BE DOING?

Whatever you like! You can read the assigned chapter and go "that's nice" and never do anything else. You can leave a comment on AO3! You can join my Discord and talk about it with other people. You can talk about it on tumblr. You can not do any that at all and instead do some secret additional thing. It's really up to you how you engage with it. I just ask that you be polite about it. It's all in fun.

WHAT IF I DON’T LIKE IT?

Back button. I really don't expect this to be a huge thing- it's just something that I'm proud of and want to share it with others and if there's a way to share it that makes it easier on people to read, that's great! But I will not be coming to your house and demanding you give me my flowers. I just ask, again, that you be nice. If it's not for you, it's not for you.

WHAT CHARACTERS DOES THIS FOCUS ON?

This is an ensemble story, so while there are significant narrative beats dedicated to Molly, Cree, and eventually Lucien, every character is given a chance to shine and have their own subplots and arcs. A lot of arcs still play out as they did in canon, but under radically different circumstances and in new ways and some characters whose personal growth wasn't focused on as much even get some additional layers.

WHAT IS THE SHIPPING/ROMANCE VIBE LIKE?

My rule of thumb is that if you absolutely despise any of the ships listed, this series isn't for you, but if you're indifferent at worst, you'll probably be okay, because the shipping is on par with how canon treats it- i.e. it's part of some characters' arcs, but it does not derail the plot nor does the romance override other relationships. Everyone is still intensely weird about one another, regardless of whether or not they are kissing.

EXPLAIN THE RATING

The rating is for violence, gore, intense situations, and a lot of mindfuckery, but I wouldn't say any of it is atypical of what you would see in canon. The tags represent anything that comes up more than once, but if something is specific to a chapter, I will usually put it in the author's notes.

WHAT TAGS SHOULD I USE IF I WANT TO POST ABOUT IT?

LitMoR, LitMoR bookclub or life in the margins of redemption are good tags to use! I would avoid using canon CR tags unless you're just really into them for organizational purposes so to not to annoy people who aren't here for this. I'm trying to make this as fun and hassle-free for all sides of the line. I will only be using the CR tags for this post and the starting post and every subsequent bookclub post after will be tagged with the series name or "LitMoR bookclub" to keep things tidy and not annoying so you can either follow me or the LitMoR bookclub tag for updates.

WILL THIS SPOIL FUTURE EPISODES?

If you are aware of things that are coming up narratively even if you don't know the details, then you should be okay, because for the first few weeks OUADYA will follow pretty close to canon before it wildly diverges and doesn't pick up canon events until much, much later. If you want ZERO spoilers ever, then you might wanna sit it out, because while it does take lore in a different direction and does operate under its own thing, it will likely spoil a lot of things for you.

I have heard that it's possible to enjoy the fic if you haven't seen the full campaign if you don't care about utterly spoiling yourself! If you decide to stop watching after episode 26 for... reasons, it is actually fully able to be enjoyed with just that context.

HOW CANON COMPLIANT IS THIS?

It does not consider TNEOL or Molly and Caduceus's Origins comics canon (the first story was written before any of them came out), and does, again, take things in wildly different directions and has intense, deep, and maybe not exactly what was intended by Matt and the cast, lore, on top of occasionally throwing out certain spell rules that get in the way of good storytelling (like Doric's infinite wildshapes in the Dungeons & Dragon movie). I do have it on good authority that my characterization is pretty damn accurate, but you'd have to ask the frequent readers to weigh in on that.

Also shockingly, I have accidentally predicted a lot of canon events, which is very funny.

[thebrookesnook]

okay call me crazy and I know the newest chapter of Wind Breaker just released like over an hour ago, but hear me out: I think I know the deity Nii Satoru used to represent Takiishi.

Part 2: Umemiya Hajime and Fudō Myō-ō

So let's talk about it. Spoilers for Chapter 150!

I believe Takiishi is being represented by a Karura (迦楼羅, かるら). Here's my evidence to this theory:

[Karura (Left) & Karura (Right) were sourced from the same page on Japanese Buddhist Statuary: A to Z Photo Dictionary]

According to my research, karura are said to be a race of mythical fire-breathing bird-men (demigods) originating from Hindu mythology and was later adopted by the Buddhist into their pantheon as a protector deity or in accord. to legends were converted into Buddhism by Buddha and are considered one of the Eight Legions.

While going through my research, I found some interesting connections that may or may not apply to what we know of Takiishi and the imagery of the deity depicted:

Bird-like figure = appearance wise, the deity's depiction looks very similar to that of the karura.

"In Japan, Garuda is an enormous fire-breathing eagle-man with golden feathers and magic gems crowning its head."

- Schumacher, M., Karura

"They are humanoid in appearance, with the heads and wings of eagles. They have red skin, and red and gold feathers. Karura are fearsome. They breath fire from their beaks. The flapping of their wings sounds like thunder, and creates gusts of wind so strong they can dry up lakes, knock down houses, and cover entire cities in darkness. Their gigantic wingspans are 330 yojanas wide, and they can leap 3,360,000 li in a single bound. (The lengths of one yojana and one li vary greatly from country to country and era to era—a yojana can measure anywhere between 1.6 km to over 13 km long, and one li can measure anywhere between 400 m and 3.9 km.)"

- Yokai.com, Karura

Fire symbolism = Karura are said to be fire-breathing creatures. In Takiishi's lastname (焚石), it consists of the characters that roughly translates to "burning stone" (焚, taki = to burn; 石, ishi = stone). Also, his hair. (Note: Need I say more?)

The original Hindu deity's name is Garuda (sanskrit: The Devourer). The name comes from the fact that karura are known for feeding on dragons, more specifically naga or malicious serpents who have not been converted by Buddha, due to a fued between Garuda's mother (Skt. Vinata) and her sister, mother to the naga. Relating this to Takiishi's bloodlust and extremely violent tendencies during fights, perhaps Umemiya is the dragon he wants to "devour", 🤔. (Note: @yellow-gardenia-48 made a really interesting point in the replies about Endo's signature animal being a snake.)

Conclusion: While I'm not 100% certain that this deity is the exact one the mangaka used for the panel, I'm 95% sure that it is. If anyone would like to add anything more in terms of connections between Takiishi and Karura, feel free to do so! Or disagree with me, that's also cool too. I definitely would like to see more discussions on the symbolisms and cultural references Nii Satoru uses in the series so if I can be a jumping point to that, I'd be happy to do so.

(P.S. I am not Japanese but I have been deeply interested in the culture and history. I do my best to use credible sources (both in English and Japanese) and credit them accordingly. However, I am prone to slip ups so if there is anything that requires correction in my post, you may notify me directly through the post via reply/reblog.)

(P.S.S. I have a blog specifically made for wbk content for further post like this so feel free to visit me there @transient-winds )

[0vereasy]

Life’s Creation and Love’s Manifestation Chapter 2 - Dr Ratio x Female reader

Summary: Your promotion as one of the heads of the Security Department at Herta’s Space Station was full of many headaches, one of the biggest being a visiting scholar from the Intelligentsia Guild and a delegate of the IPC, Dr. Ratio.

When you were forced to team up with him to solve several crises emerging at the Station, how will your tense relationship change? And what exactly is the Doctor hiding?

A/N: Thanks so much for the support on Chapter 1! Hope Chapter two is just as enjoyable! Note that this contains spoilers for the first half of the Trailblaze question in 1.6, including spoilers about the new boss. The Trailblazer is kept gender neutral so feel free to picture whoever.

AO3 link

Taglist: @96jnie

Comment or send me an ask to be added to the taglist!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Chapter 2: Tough Survival

Word count: 7.0k+

“Why exactly do you need to go in the Seclusion Zone again?” you asked, eyebrow raised at the Trailblazer standing beside you in the Storage Zone, you tapping your foot impatiently as you both waited for the elevator to arrive. It was taking longer than usual, the display panel showing the elevator’s current location showed that the metal tube was forced to make the long trip from the bottom of the station back to your location. Your arms were tired of lugging shit around this god-awful Space Station, your full water bottle and heavy-duty laptop making your arms ache as shifting them slightly in your arms from where you stood.

Unfortunately, your comfort was also not aided by the person standing in beside you. In all honesty, the Trailblazer had been giving off weird vibes since their arrival at the Station late last night; even now they wouldn’t meet your eye despite standing beside you, shuffling slightly in their spot. You weren’t the first, and definitely wouldn’t be the last to admit that they weren’t exactly the brightest bulb, but hey, neither would you, and you could tell there was something more to their evasive answers.

“Completely legal business that is completely ethical and not dangerous at all!” they exclaimed, forcing a laugh as they scratched the back of their neck awkwardly. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you followed them into the elevator. You turned to watch the doors close, ensuring you were both firmly in the metal carrier before you set your laptop and water bottle down, bending at the waist to do so. You straightened once more, cracking your knuckles. To their credit, the Trailblazer quickly picked up on your action, backing themselves as far away from you as the small metal tube would allow them, “What are you-”

You turned from the elevator door to face them, arms moving up and grabbing them by the collar of their white shirt, pushing them against the back wall of the elevator. Their amber eyes widened in shock at your actions, hands lifting in a vain attempt to pull your own digits from their shirt collar. Your grip only tightened at that, pushing them more firmly into the wall in a way you expected would leave a few bruises.

“Look, I’m trusting you today; you’re the Station’s saviour after all, and you have Madam Ruan Mei’s access card,” your gaze dipped from their golden eyes to the card hanging around their neck, the picture of Ruan Mei gazing back at you as if the Genius was in the elevator right now, mocking you. You moved your face closer to their own, using your hand to tilt their chin down slightly to make sure they looked you in the eye, “But if I find out that you do anything to threaten the safety of the Station while were down there, I won’t hesitate to deal with you myself.” You whispered those last words in their ear after shifting your head to the side slightly. You moved your head back to speak again, “Capeesh?”

“U-Understood, Miss Y/N,” came their studdered response, their face visibly flushed and mouth slightly agape as they stared up at you. You sighed, releasing their shirt, though your body lingered close to their own for a second, keeping them on guard despite your hands lowering to your sides. You bent down once more to pick up your items, though this time you kept your gaze focused on the Trailblazer as you did so before inevitably having to turn your back away from them to face the buttons on the elevator panel.

God, you were getting real tired of pinning people against walls. What was this, twice in one week? Must be a new record, if not it was at least a personal best score.

“Great!” you exclaimed, turning to flash a smile over your shoulder at them. Despite the friendly nature of the action, their body flinched backwards, “Come on, don’t be like that, you know I can’t play bad cop for long,” you shrugged, turning your head back to the button panel,”let’s go then,” you shifted your laptop under your arm so you could grab your key card hanging around your neck, pushing it against the access scanner on the wall of the elevator. A green light flashed on the scanner, approving the descent, while a second green light from a panel above it turned on, the light moving across your face as a robotic voice confirmed your identity. After the light turned off, you pressed the lowest button on the elevator panel, turning to look at your companion again once the elevator started descending, “That’s why the elevator wasn’t moving earlier.”

“H-Huh?” the Trailblazer was still clearly flustered from earlier, as they looked at you blankly as if not truly processing your words, a familiar look for them really. Even from your spot a few feet away from them, you couldn’t mistake the flush on their cheeks or the way they fidgeted slightly with their hands. You allowed yourself to roll your eyes this time, taking a swig from the water bottle in your hand, the ‘water’ burning your throat nicely as it went down.

“Theirs a dual processing system!” you announced proudly after swallowing, turning to look at the panel. You pointed first to the key card scanner, “This device scans a key card,” your finger then moved to the panel above it, “and then this one scans the person’s face to make sure their identity matches the card they scanned!” you turned to look at the Trailblazer again as you leaned against the wall of the elevator with a smirk, crossing your arms confidently, “That’s why it wasn’t working earlier when you tried to use Ruan Mei’s card without me! I designed it after the Legion attack to try and increase Security; I know, I know, I’m a genius.”

“You sure change moods fast, Miss Y/N,” the Trailblazer sighed, though their body language was already slightly more open from before, their amber eyes clearly meeting yours and their feet planted firmly on the ground. You forced down a smile at the change.

“Come on Trailblazer, you know me, I’m not meant to play the serious security roll for long. Like I said, I can only play bad cop for so long before I clinically go insane,” you huffed dramatically, standing up straight so you stop leaning on the metal wall, “Besides, it’s my day off, I threatened you for safety purposes only, obviously.”

The Trailblazer opened their mouth to respond, but their attention was instead caught by the slowing of the elevator as it reached it’s destination. As the doors of the elevator opened, they looked between you and the dark space beyond skeptically, breathing slightly heavily as you took your first few steps into the Zone.

“Why is it… so dark?” The Trailblazer asked you, as you both stepped into the empty corridor. The, elevator ascending back up behind the two of you, leaving the only source of light as the stars and planets beyond the Space Station windows. Compared to the rest of the station at this hour, everything was quiet, as one would expect for a Zone locked away from the public. Your eyes scanned the place as you both walked, lingering at the work station in the distance voluntarily, before you forced your gaze to look at your companion again.

“Energy saving mechanism,” you explained casually, steps large and confident compared to the small skeptical ones of your companion, “you should see Herta’s energy bill, yeesh, I know the IPC have a payday everytime Topaz comes to collect our debts,” you explained, “No one really uses this place, so the lights are motion activated to save us some credits, they’ll come on soon.”

You both paused at the sight of a little robot in front of you, the glowing red light from its body serving as the only other source of light down in the dark Zone. Much like the little helper bots around the Space Station, the white robot seemed innocent enough. Well, that was until it decided to turn suddenly to look at both you and the Trailblazer, the red lights on its face flashing angrily for a moment beyond the cracked glass of its scanning screen, causing the Trailblazer to take a nervous step back.

While the Trailblazer flinched beside you, you merely huffed in annoyance, waving at the robot calmly, “Don’t be like that stupid, it’s just me!” the red lights of the robot dimmed at your voice, while the lighting for the floor seemed to come on given your waving, bathing the main floor of the security zone in red lights lit up from the panels serving as arm rails around the platform. The robot quickly flew off to its proper position as you turned to face your companion, “Sorry ‘bout that, the robots down here are designed for security so they can be a little extra when someone new comes around.”

“Right…” the Trailblazer murmured, still clearly taken aback by all the events they had witnessed in the past five or so minutes. You almost felt bad about pushing them against the door now… well, almost. They did give some interesting reactions after all.

“Anyway, from here Ruan Mei’s card will allow you access to whatever you want,” you explained, pointing towards an elevator opposite to the one you emerged from, the elevator in the same direct the robot had scurried back to, “That elevator there will take you down to the research and curio storage area. I’ll stay here til you’re done whatever the hell Ruan Mei put you up to.”

“Thanks again Miss Y/N… sorry for bothering you on your day off!” the Trailblazer scurried away before you could reply, clearly anxious for a chance to get away from you, not that you could blame them exactly. You let them go, watching their anxious form get onto another much more welcoming elevator than the one you currently stood in front of.

It was only when they began their descent, metal doors closing behind them, that you spoke, “I didn’t expect to see you here, Doctor,” you commented, turning your gaze from the elevator back towards one of the two work stations on the ground level of the Seclusion Zone where Doctor Ratio stood, “Have nothing better to do than hang out in dark rooms all day? I wonder what the IPC would think if they heard their delegate had nothing better to do than waste their time.” You hummed playfully, moving towards the workstation he was at.

The doctor merely scoffed, the sound slightly muffled by that stupid alabaster head that he had on again today, “Those are the words you decide to greet me with today, really?” he sighed, as if disappointed, “I expected much more from you after our previous encounter.”

“Much more?” you echoed, shooting him a puzzled glance as you plopped yourself down at one of the chairs at the workstation, sighing at the relief of finally being able to put your items down for a longer period of time. You shook your hands out in front of you, as if trying to shake off the built up tension within them accrued from your long period of lugging things around, “What, were you expecting me to push you against a wall again until you lost all your inhibitions? Sorry to disappoint you, Doctor, but I think I’ve reach my kabedon quota for the month.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the Doctor rebutted with hostility as he sat down in the chair a few feet away from your own, “I obviously expected an apology after our previous encounter. In fact, I’ve expected an apology for the last five days since our previous meeting. And yet you avoid me! Does this Space Station have no shame? No desire to maintain diplomatic relations between important parties?”

“What, you want me to apologize for doing my job? It’s my day off, I’m not apologizing for shit,” you said bluntly, moving your gaze away from him to flip open your laptop, one hand shielding the other as you typed in your password. You didn’t exactly know how he managed to see through the stupid alabaster head, but you weren’t about to put your laptop’s safety at risk.

“You and I both know, Miss Y/N, that embarrassing and threatening a guest and pushing them against the wall is nowhere within your employment description!” he exclaimed dramatically, crossing his arms across his chest like an angry child.

“It is when the guest is acting like a little shit,” you shrugged, watching your computer screen as the device turned on. You could hear the sound of him opening his insufferable mouth to speak again, forcing you to speak sooner, “Besides, I’m sure you’re happy to know that I received internal punishment from Arlan already. I don’t owe you anything.”

“It is satisfying to know that actions do have consequences in this Station,” he removed the alabaster head, revealing a sly smile below it. God you wished you had the freedom to punch his pretty face, especially right now, as you watched his amber eyes scan your appearance, “I must say, your apparel makes much more sense with the understanding that you are off the clock.”

You looked at your own outfit; a simple white cropped top and a high-waisted pair of black shorts that rode up as you sat down, the fabric only barely covering what it was supposed to, “What, you find offence in my outfit, Doctor? This ship is hot all the time, sue me!” You rolled your eyes, forcing yourself to look away from him to your computer, deft fingers quickly moving to reopen the programs you were using before the Trailblazer interrupted you.

“Not a fan of the heat? How interesting,” he retorted from beside you. From the corner of your eye, you could see him picking at his fingernails in mock boredom, “For someone has hot-headed as you, I would expect heat to be second nature.”

“Ha, ha,” you muttered, completely stone-faced, refusing to look at him for a few seconds before a smirk made its way onto your features. You turned in your swivel chair to face him head-on, “I didn’t know my temperature preferences would be so fascinating to you, Doctor. If you’re so interested in my experience with warmth, I could give you an indepth explanation of the last time I was hot and heavy, if you catch my drift.”

“You-” he coughed, cutting his own outburst short, “I can assure you I have no desire to understand you or your… bedroom habits at all.” You snickered at the half-assed retort. Aeones, it was so easy to get under this guy’s skin; you hadn’t had fun in a verbal battle like this in a while. It almost made you sad that this guy would leave the station sooner or later, well until you realized that his departure meant an end to dealing with his arrogant attitude.

“Great, in that case you can happily leave me alone then,” you flashed a mockingly cheerful smile at him before dropping your expression to a neutral stare, “It may be my day off, but I have shit to do… so, shoo.” You flicked your wrist mockingly at him, as if he Peppy begging for attention that you had no time to give. His eyes narrowed at the hand motion.

Of course, he didn’t shoo as you requested, only scootching his desk chair closer to you instead. To his credit, he let a few moments pass, watching you as you reopened all your closed tabs on your computer before he spoke again, as if in mock courtesy, “How did you know I was here?”

“Come on Mr. Ratio, I’m sure someone as smart as you allegedly are knows how eyeballs work,” you commented, focused on your computer instead of him as you scanned the information on the screen, “I know you wear an alabaster head, but the rest of us do have free range of our vision ya know?”

He ignored the quip, speaking once more, “Please do not play dumb with me, Ms. Y/N. You knew I was here the second the elevator arrived at this platform, if not before that. I saw you look this way upon your arrival” You turned your eyes from the screen to him again, stifling a sigh at the unfinished work that kept being put off. At this point, you started to doubt why you even lugged your laptop down here

“Only five people have access to this Zone,” you started, the Doctor blinking twice, as if startled that you were actually answering his question, “Screwllum, Herta, Ruan Mei use this area for their work, and, Arlan and me make occasional trips for security purpose. The geniuses are all in some meeting in some Aeon forsaken corner of the Simulated Universe, and Arlan is working upstairs, soooo.”

“I don’t quite see the chain of your logic,” the Doctor crossed his legs, resting his elbow on his uppermost knee to glance at you again as if you were entertainment. This time, it felt more as if you were an animal at the zoo that he was excited to observe.

“Whose playing dumb now, Mr. Ratio, you clearly know what I’m implying, “ you stared provocatively into his amber orbs, crossing one leg on top of the other. You watched his gaze flicker downwards at the moment, eyes scanning your nearly bare legs, before he forced his gaze upwards again, “The elevator came from this floor when the Trailblazer ‘n I were heading down here, meaning someone or something had to be here. That’s how I knew something was here,” you broke the eye contact, focusing again on the computer, an attempt you were sure was only in vain, “As for how I knew it was you, you didn’t exactly conceal yourself; you know that wearing that head doesn’t make you invisible to the rest of the world right?. If anything, I’m betting you sent the robot off to distract the Trailblazer, just so they wouldn’t notice you standing a few feet away.”

The Doctor chuckled, mockingly clapping his hands, “Bravo, bravo. I must say, you’re logic in impressive for someone of your calibre. If only you had the capacity to understand other areas of knowledge.” He sighed pittily, scooting his chair one more step towards yours.

“How did you get down here?” you ignored his quip, once again meeting his gaze, your features contorted into a frown. The Doctor clearly noticed the shift in your tone, shifting slightly in his chair. Part of you wanted to tease him for the effect your first encounter must’ve had on him, but the other more serious part wanted to find out who was behind the breach in security that you would have to correct during your next shift.

“Oh that? That was a simple task,” the Doctor shrugged offhandedly, regaining any composure he had lost a moment ago, “I simply struck up a conversation with one of your department members? What was her name…. Hmm I suppose I forgot it, or rather did not bother to remember it in the first place,” he shrugged, “Regardless, she seemed rather enthralled for the chance to observe me as she happened to come across me during my morning workout a few days prior,” he smirked at you, “it is funny how people misplace vital pieces of technology at the mere sight of human muscle.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms around your chest, the Doctor’s eyes following your movements again. Aeons, could this dude be any less subtle, “You’re telling me you managed enter your information into the permitted visitor’s list to the Seclusion Zone simply by using your rizz to distract the poor girl while she was on duty?”

“I am unsure of the meaning of…’rizz’ but you are correct,” he smirked as the frustration grew on your expression, “I must say, considering the recent Anti Matter Legion invasion, I would expect more from a security department which must be struggling to win back the trust and support of researchers. What a pity.” You resisted the urge to clench your jaw in frustration, forcing yourself to take a deep breath to release the growing tension in your body.

“And I would expect a delegate from the IPC would have better things to do then visually undress me after illegally obtaining entry to this area,” you retorted, scootching your chair close to his for a moment until your knees touched, ignoring the jolt you felt from the contact. His throat bobbed as he watched you place a hand on his clothed knee, “Does your both know your tendency for sexual harassment? Or am I the lucky one getting to see this side of you.”

“I-If there’s anyone engaging in harassment between the two of us, it is clearly you!’ he attempted to tilt his chin upwards in a show of domination, though the stutter in his tone was as clear as day, “I’ll let you know I have much better things to do than entertain this exacting conversation.” He turned his head away from you, crossing those muscular arms across his chest again. You scanned him for a moment; it definitely was no wonder that the guy worked out, he was built like a statue or something with the girth of those arms. You let your mind wander a few unsavoury places for a moment before you remembered who you were talking to.

“Good to know Doctor,” you said drily, using your feet to push your body away from his, the heat from his knees touching yours remaining on your bare leg. You turned your shoulder, facing your laptop again, this time with the determination to do work, “If that’s the case, you have no reason to stay here. It may be my day off, but I got work to do. So, like I said before, shoo. Leave me alone.” You mockingly waved your hand at him again, eyes still focused on the screen.

You were starting to wonder if the man in front of you had no concept of the words shoo, as he once again scooted his chair closer to you, this time his eyes focused on the computer. Based on his demeanour, he had already, his movements made with no hint of hesitation. You did your best to ignore him, even the wheels of his office chair nudged the wheels of your own, his chair now firmly placed directly behind you. You could feel his breath on your face and sense the heat from his toned body as he leaned in, as if wanted to get a closer work at what you were doing. The tension resting between you two was hot and electrifying, leaving goosebumps on your skin and, despite the disgust rising in your stomach, a slight heat on your cheeks. To your credit, you kept your features neutral, even as his toned arm accidentally brushed against your elbow resting firmly on the chair, the feeling of his firm muscles only adding to the heat surrounding the two of you. You forced your fingers to move expertly across the keyboard, glad the motions were well-trained and familiar to account for the brain fog that this whole situation was giving you.

The Doctor was the first to speak, breaking through the growing atmosphere between you two, “You know how to code?” he questioned, no hint of a quip in his tone as he watched your fingers move, line after line of a carefully typed code appearing on your screen.

“What, no insult with your words Doctor? Getting soft on me?” you teased, a closed-lip smile taking over your face, though your focus remained on the screen, “I know how to code,” was your simple confirmation. A moment of silence passed between you two, as if he was trying to process the information.

“Why?”

The one-word reply broke your concentration, your eyes finally leaving the screen to face the Doctor beside you, his hand on his chin once again, as if in thought, “Are you seriously asking me why I can code? Why not? We leave in a free universe after all,” you held back an eye roll.

You were surprised, even slightly creeped out, when he replied again without a quip attached to his words, “By the way you’re typing, you clearly have experience with this. Given your young age, and the fact you have worked your way up to a senior position in the Security Department on a renowned station, you must have learned outside of a place of formal education,” you blinked dumbly at his lines of reasoning. Maybe this dude really was a genius, “So yes, Miss Y/N, I am asking why.”

You let a few moments of silence pass before smirking at him, “So, you think I look young?”

“Is that really all you picked up from that speech? Perhaps I am giving you too much credit your intelligence,” he scoffed, watchful eyes noticing you stifle a chuckle in your hand. Ah, finally, you worked another quip out of him.

“If you are so curious to know more about me,” you started, the mix of playfulness and seriousness in your words calming his agitation, “I used to work for Lady Asta’s family before I worked here,” you shrugged, “A while back, her family wanted a new security system, and the ones offered by the IPC are either overpriced or stupidly designed,” she flashed him a sly smile, “No offence of course. So, I borrowed some books from the library about coding, and I taught myself. That’s all there is to it.”

“So you are self-taught,” he pondered to himself, “quite interesting. At least you manage to possess intelligence in some areas, even if you happen to be an idiot in most others.” You laughed out loud at that one, earning a strange, long look from the Doctor that you couldn’t quite read.

“Aww, Doc, is that a complement I hear? Guess I can’t blame you, I am a woman of many talents after all,” you smirked at him, leaning back in your chair to invade his personal space, your arm brushing his own as you did. Flesh lingered on flesh for a moment until he pulled the limb away.

“If that is your definition of a complement, you are a greater idiot than I suspected,” he snapped back, the speed of which he defended your remark being oddly quick. You watched him as he scooched his chair further away from you, the warmth of his skin on your own still lingering on your arm.

“Hmm, whatever you say,” you hummed playfully, noticing the way the Doctor swallowed heavily at your teasing, “I answered your little questions, can you leave now? The Station’s security system can’t exactly maintain itself ya’ know?” You knew you should turn back to your laptop, but witnessing the Doctor like this was just too good of a reward to give up.

“You designed the security system?” he asked, tone of genuine curiosity instead of judging disgust. Wow, he must really be growing soft on you.

“How else do you think I got promoted exactly?” you raised a teasing eyebrow, “I’m not exactly the model security guard,” you let your eyes gesture to your water bottle, a knowing look passing both of your faces as you took a swig of the alcohol inside, “I had to earn my promotion elsewhere. So yeah, I did design the system; well, really I just replaced the old one from before Asta, Arlan and I got here,” you shrugged, “Same difference. I’m sure you’re glad to know the very system causing you headaches upon arrival and preventing the docking of your ship was my own! Does it feel nice to know that you physically couldn’t drive your ship forward because of my external protection shield?”

“It explains why the system is as infuriating as you,” he explained drily, tone unamused at your quips. You opened your mouth, a playful comment on the tip of your tongue, before both you and the Doctor were distracted by the sound of the farther elevator returning to the main floor of the Seclusion Zone. You and the Doctor watched in silence as the metallic door opened, the Trailblazer strutting over to you with confusion in their eyes. A quick glance told you that the doctor had repositioned his alabaster head, leaving only his figure exposed.

“Whose this?” they asked you, gaze flickering between you two. You were happy that, either given their confusion or just their pure ignorance, they failed to recognize the heat that had built between the two of you, as if their one-track mind could only focus on one stimulus at a time. You weren’t exactly prepared to explain the source of the tension.

“He’s not important,” you commented drily. Despite the alabaster head on the Scholar’s body, you almost felt that you could see him glaring at you, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I gotta take that other elevator; go to the bottom floor,” they explained, eyes flickering to the second metallic elevator, closer to the main elevator you had descended from earlier. You recognized the hesitation in their tone, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“That’s fine… but you good?” you questioned, “Is something down there?” you paused for a moment, as if waiting for an answer, before sighing, “Oh right, I forgot that you’re doing that whole not talking thing. Whatever, it’s fine, I can come with, if that would make you feel better.” You flashed them a smile that you hoped was reassuring despite the less-than-civil encounter you had with the Trailblazer earlier. Luckily for you, it seemed to be reassuring enough, as they matched your expression back.

“Honestly, that’d be great, thanks Miss Y/N,” you could almost visibly see the tension leave their body, shoulders relaxing and breathing settled. Their own relief caused the smile to remain on your face before the grating sound of the Doctor’s voice invaded your thoughts.

“So? Get on with it then,” the man beside you finally regained his composure, huffing at the two of you, “Are you waiting for a sign? Time is ticking, descend via the elevator, what you seek is there.” You cocked an eyebrow at the knowing tone, forcing you to look at the Doctor, standing to place one hand on your hip.

“And how would you know, Doctor, what my friend here is looking for?” you strutted into his personal space, finger poking his closed chest accusingly. His covered head tilted down as if following the motion, before tilting up again. The action was probably a mistake, you recognized, doing nothing to quell whatever the hell you two had built up a few moments prior, but if you were good at anything, it was threatening people.

“It appears, Miss Y/N, that you became so caught up in our banter that you failed to ask a vital question; why am I here in the first place?” your finger lowered in shock as you listened to the words, the scholar taking the chance to stand and turn his back to you, leaving you face-to-face with his muscles as he talked to the Trailblazer, “I know exactly who you are, and I am aware you are in Ruan Mei’s employ. This was not my intended destination,” he turned his body to face you, giving you know choice but to tilt your head upward to meet his gaze, or else be sentenced to look at his toned chest, “If your Miss Y/N had the intelligence to question why I was here, instead of merely question how, she would have been able to tell you that I just happened to find my way here during my visit, and saw what she was up to. My goals are roughly aligned with yours. Since you’re here, I won’t intercede. That’s all you need to know.”

The Trailblazer merely blinked, as if struggling to process the words, “Sooo, what’s with the alabaster head?” Though you couldn’t see the Doctor’s expression, you could almost picture the way his jaw must have dropped at the casual comment, a thought that would’ve made you laugh, if not for the rising suspicion you had of the man.

“My question exactly,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. At least you and the Trailblazer could agree on one thing. Unlike when you made comments about it the other day, though, the Doctor kept the head firmly in place.

“Because I can’t bear to see idiots. Of course, they wouldn’t want to see me either,” the Trailblazer once again stared blankly, earning a sigh from the Doctor, “Regardless, the real Ruan Mei’s creation is hidden in the giant incubator below us.”

“Incubator?” you questioned, though besides a sparing glance, no one offered you a reply, “Ruan Mei’s creation? Aeons, I’ve about had it here with that woman and her stupid ecological research.” you rolled your eyes.

“You two best hurry. Go. Take the elevator and bear witness to this ‘Genius Masterpiece,” as if feeling confident in his reply, the scholar turned on his heel to leave, strutting towards the central elevator.

“We are definitely having a chat about this later!” you called after him, not bothering to hide the anger in your tone. The man of the hour merely glanced over his shoulder, alabaster head still in place as he pushed the button to the elevator. You hated how his muscles flexed at the motion, leaving your lips empty of threats for a moment as the elevator descended quickly to your level, and opened up to allow him access to the upstairs.

“I will look forward to that conversation then,” was his simple reply as he stepped inside, “I wonder what pathetic insults you will manage to muster this time” The metal doors closed behind him, leaving the room temporarily basked in silence. You were grateful for the chance to force your anger back down.

“Let’s go,” you nodded to your companion, following their lead as they rushed towards the other elevator, hurriedly pressing the button, as if their quick finger movements would make the machine arrive faster, “Care to explain what this incubator is, exactly?” you raised an eyebrow as you both waited.

“Can’t,” was their only response before they rushed into the now open device, forcing you to hurry after them.

“Rude, what did Ruan Mei do to you exactly” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as the machine started to descend. You spoke again, knowing that they, for whatever reason, couldn’t provide you with an answer, “Whatever, I’ll know soon enough anyway. Aeons, this day is exhausting,” you attempted to force the tiredness out of your eyes, your relatively calm demeanour contrasting the stress building up on the Trailblazer’s features. Their growing stress, though, was starting to give you some second thoughts too. They may not be the brightest book on the shelf, but they had fought a plethora of beasts in their short lifespan. The fact that whatever was down here was stressing them out was almost ominous.

Soon enough, the elevator arrived in the bottom room, forcing you and the Trailblazer to step out, your eyes immediately widening, “The hell? What did Ruan Mei do to our old welcome hall?” you groaned, taking in the giant broken device hanging above, dripping some type of fluid on to the floor, “Does she even know how long it takes to clean these floors? Aeons, she’s insufferable.” The normal lightening down in the hall wasn’t flickering on, leaving the round, circular space bathed in an eerie red light. Ruan Mei had replaced the old chandelier with some sort of investigation which clearly wasn’t safe or ethical, the thing suspended above the ground haphazardly.

“I think that’s the least of our problems right now, Miss Y/N,” the Trailblazer muttered, gesturing for you to look further up. You did as they told you, following their lead, both of your eyes widening what you saw. Flying right at you was a giant blue bug, probably 20 feet tall with sharp stingers and an even sharper, angry expression. The Trailblazer was quick to react, summoning their bat and swinging it at the creature in a vain attempt to drive it off. You quickly summoned your own weapon, a black pistol, pointing it in the creature’s direction.

“What the fuck is that thing?” you exclaimed, dodging out of the way when the bug flew at you two again, stifling a groan as your body hit the ground hard, your knees taking the brunt of the impact. You were quick to get your feet back under you, forcing any vertigo out of you and aiming the gun once again as the creature flew around you. You waited til it stilled momentarily to fire a shot, not wanting to risk something more reckless in a closed space with the Trailblazer around. Not that the shot made much of a difference anyway; the creature only shrieked, flying once again as if not in danger at all.

“It’s an emantor of propagation clone! How could this be…?” the Trailblazer muttered from beside you, swinging the bat hard at the big again when it charged you, not caring as he got hit in the side by one of the claws, “Miss Y/N, we gotta defeat this thing fast, otherwise the swarm will-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you watched in horror as the bug paused, making a noise somewhere between the sloshing of water and squishing of something slimy as the one bug turned into two… and then four. The replication process caused a gust of energy to swirl around the enclosed space, the force of the gust pulling you and the Trailblazer closer and closer to the center of it.

Struggling to keep their footing, the Trailblazer fell to the ground, unaware of the several bugs flying in their direction. You were quick to grab them by the waist, dragging them to the side forcefully to dodge the onslaught of attacks, throwing caution to the wind to fire your weapon at the smaller bugs. However, with the force of the dodge, and the continued harsh breeze, you too fell to your knees, leaving you to hold up your pistol protectively as the bug continued to swarm around you.

“Miss Y/N!” the Trailblazer exclaimed, pointing up in horror. Your eyes widened as the larger bug created something seemingly akin to a black hole above you, the large ball of energy blowing a dark blue colour as it grew bigger and bigger. You pushed the Trailblazer’s body behind you in vain, wondering how the hell you were supposed to get out of this situation as the ball grew bigger and bigger. You had half the mind to tell the Trailblazer to run off, to get out of there before the both of you were killed.

At the moment you truly felt helpless. It’s funny how we can take life for granted, living day after day without a care in the world, until some crazy genius lady creates a bug that threatened the safety of hundreds with her stupid creation. Your body still on top of the Trailblazers, you held them protectively, hoping that at least they would survive, even if that meant your untimely demise. Someone had to protect the researchers, and if that couldn’t be you, at least you knew that the Trailblazer would have it covered. You stared at the growing blackhole, accepting whatever fate you would be dealt.

That was, until everything exploded, the blackhole shattering into pieces as if the creature was made of shards of glass. Above you, the five bugs shook violently for a moment, their bodies growing larger and larger before they exploded into pieces. A trail of blood and guts rained down on the two of you like some messed-up version of a snowstorm, coating your body in a slimy substance that you sure as hell hoped would wash out in the bath.

You let yourself lay there for a second, your body still on top of the Trailblazers, just trying to catch your breath. Your heart was thumping like crazy, as if your body, like the bug, also was on the brink of explosion due to the build-up of adrenaline. You forced yourself to breathe, though the breaths were still shaky as you moved your head to view the surrounding area.

“Hey… it’s okay now, were safe,” you moved your body off of your companion below you, tone gentle and reassuring. They slowly opened their eyes, as if shocked to be alive. Given what you both had just seen, you were in no position to judge them for their reaction. A few more seconds of that thing and you both would’ve been toast.

“It’s over..?” they questioned, voice as shaky as their wobbly legs as they stood. You were quick to stand to, steading them by placing a gentle hand on their back “Are you okay Miss Y/N?”

“As good as one can be after almost dying, I guess,” you moved your hand away after they regained their balance, observing the piles of bug guts surrounding the two of you. You realized then that you would probably be tasked with cleaning all this up, causing your face to recoil in disgust.

“...I…I need to get some answers out of Ruan Mei,” the Trailblazer muttered, body still shaky as they turned from your form, “Thanks for the help Miss Y/N… I really owe you one.” They didn’t wait for a reply, simply dragging their tired body to the elevator, leaving you alone in the room, your hear still hammering out of your chest.

As you stared at the mountains of insect guts coating the bottom of the incubator room, only one thing came to mind.

“I really need a raise…”

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Okay, I've Read Worm: A Retrospective Part 4: Let's Give Wildbow Some Fucking Well-Earned Praise

So, I've had a decent number of harsh words for Wildbow over the course of my liveblog, and also over on my main blog. Overall, most of them are about his WoGs or Ward, rather than Worm itself. I've also commented I don't think I'd enjoy talking to him (not that he's likely to ever reach out, but you know). But I've had some complaints about Worm too.

But the thing is, I did read Worm. I read the whole thing. A desire to write fanfic would not have kept me going through all 30 chapters if I hated it. Or even if I just thought it was like, mediocre. It's 1.6 Million words. I am not that kind of masochist.

Life is short, Worm is long, if I wasn't enjoying it, I'd have left a long time ago. So I did enjoy it.

And the thing is, even if I never pick up his other works (and I do intend to try some), I am no doubt going to have more harsh words for Wildbow in the future. And I have no doubt that even if I love say, Pact or Pale or Claw or Seek or... I dunno, his next Web Serial after Seek called *throws a dart at a wall* Iota, I'm sure I'll have harsh words. I can't think of a single creator of anything that I don't have at least some issues with something they put out.

And to be fair, even most people who fully like Worm and Ward tend to have some harsh words for him now and then, or at least negative ones.

BUT, I liked Worm. And so, I think it's fair to really sit down and give him some unalloyed, unambiguous praise.

The Pace of Output: This is probably low-hanging fruit, but it is genuinely impressive that Wildbow wrote Worm as quickly as he did, sticking to a schedule as consistently as he did. I am in awe. I think even if I didn't have to work at all, and was able to write all the time, I wouldn't even be able to match half of what he did in the same amount of time, in terms of output. Wildbow accomplished something that is genuinely amazing here.

The Shards, Entities and Powers: Shard mechanics are not my favorite thing about Worm. But the whole thing really does come together well. It's a pretty cohesive, pretty well directed power system to tell the story he wanted to tell. I don't consume much cape fiction, so I don't know what stuff beyond Marvel and DC are really like in terms of how powers work and how they all fit and service the story, but for Worm, the Shards work to tell the story he wants to tell, really well. I read and write mostly fantasy and sci-fi, and spend a lot of time in worldbuilding spaces dedicated to both, or have at least, and a lot of would be writers fall into the trap of trying to overdevelop the magic system or the rules for whatever crazy supertech their story has without really stopping to figure out how it fits for the story they want. That's generally not a great approach if the intent is to have a story, and not just a cool setting or a fun magic concept. Wildbow created a pretty cool system, and then managed to avoid the common trap of getting so attached to the power system and it's rules that it interfered with telling the story he wanted to tell. Instead, he built and bent the system with his story as the driving purpose, and kept it all cohesively working within that framework.

The Interludes: The Interludes are without a doubt some of the best shit in Worm, overall. The way he is able to convey so much about these characters in these cutaway scenes and expand the world and advance the story and develop ongoing themes and narratives? Nearly every Interlude is doing like, 4 things at once, I swear to got, and the way he juggles that all together is awesome, and the end result is great. I will never go back and reread all of Worm from start to finish. But I will sure as shit go back and read some of the interludes just for the sheer fun of it. The way these cutaways manage to get you inside the head of these people, see their perspective is really good, takes real skill to make you go 'I really kinda see Saint's POV here' for his Interlude, for instance. Really good.

Amy Dallon: So like, I think it's clear I love Amy. She's fascinating. I have big feelings about her, and she's a divisive as fuck character. But Amy Dallon is the most fascinating character in Worm for me personally and she's genuinely one of the most fascinating characters in anything I've read. I'll have more to say about Amy if I manage to get a version of that Amy retrospective I'm happy with written, but unironically? Wildbow, thank you for writing Amy Dallon. I bitch about how much she's taken over my brain, but Amy is such a fascinating, interesting, enjoyable and engrossing character that she has been a net positive for me. Reading Worm and reading about her has enriched my life. Thank you. You did a damn good job with her in Worm, Wildbow.

Taylor Hebert: As I said back in Part 1 of this retrospective, I was worried I'd find Taylor insufferable. Her capacity for self-rationalization should be an issue for me. It often can be in other characters. But Wildbow managed to write Taylor amazingly. He created a character who is multifaceted, multilayered, complex, nuanced and yet, pretty simple. She's intensely relatable, and yet, she is also deeply, deeply alien and abnormal. She does absolutely insane shit, and yet, when you're reading along with her POV, so much of what she does and thinks makes her seem like the only sane woman in the room. Even when you take a step back and realize what she does, she's very hard to not like. Even if you want to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her, you like her. She's great. She's an everywoman, she's no woman. She's clever and stupid and brilliant and unimaginative all at once. She is... She's Taylor Hebert. She's an antihero, a villain protagonist, a hero hero and... she's just some fucking girl.

Heroes/Villains: What I mean by this bulletpoint is - villain protagonists, making villainous characters sympathetic - that's easy enough to do. And making the 'official heroes' of a setting not really as great as they might seem is also fairly easy to do. But it is hard to pair the two together as well as Wildbow did. The Undersiders do a lot of bad things (I would disagree with people who say they're all *fundamentally* bad people - even Regent... ish, kinda sorta. He's so fucked up due to his background that calling him fundamentally bad is probably not really accurate. Though some people draw red lines around some of what he did, so that's more subjective. But like, the key thing is that he did that while *also* still making them pretty sympathetic without like... running protag-centered morality and still making them have done quite a bit of good (and a ton of bad) AND the handling of the heroes. Because it really does look a lot like he's doing a bit where the 'official heroes' are the real bad guys of the story between things like Armsmaster's shit and Interlude 2, but he also doesn't actually do that. And he executes it in a way that is really well done, without doing the thing where the narrative acts like someone is evil but like... the person isn't.

This isn't really an exhaustive list of 'everything Worm did well' or even 'Everything I liked about Worm', but it is stuff that Wildbow did really fucking well, that I really liked or am impressed with, and that he deserves unalloyed praise for.

There are reasons why I kept reading Worm, and those are some of the reasons.

(There could also be a point on how he manages the readers' information diet, but it's really hard to say for sure if it's something that I really liked because I came in so thoroughly spoiled. From what I can see, I think I would have liked it and given it the unalloyed praise normally, but it's impossible to say because I knew what 75% of these clues were ahead of time).

Mr. Bow - you did a lot of shit I don't like. But holy motherfucking shit, you did some goddamn amazing stuff too.