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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 4 months

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"obstinate, headstrong girl" part 2 - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

read part 1 here

wc: 3000

cw: mentions of food and alcohol! enemies to lovers! poorly researched medical information lmao i am a liberal arts girly i just need it for the plot. typical bau meddling, reader is lowkey a bully but dw bc hotch is still a little bitch, part 3 to come c:

a/n big fat thank you to my bestie @cerisereids for all her help workshopping / brainstorming with me! i also got the BEAUTIFUL dividers from the immensely talented @saradika-graphics

You.

With your red dress and your attitude, throwing back amaretto sours like they’re tequila shots - who gets drunk on amaretto sours? They’re basically safe to drink while pregnant. To be fair, you didn’t get sloppy, or even really that drunk. By the end of the night, your eyes appeared just a bit heavy, like someone had tied miniature weights to your eyelashes.

Your eyelashes. Aaron had never found eyelashes, of all things, to be attractive, but here he is, in the middle of a work day with a report half-finished (and half-assed, at that), and he’s thinking about your eyelashes.

He’s thought of basically every part of you already today. Your knees, your dress, what’s underneath it. You have been sucking him into a black hole all day long, and he’s to the point where he’s halfway wishing for a serial killer so he can focus on something else.

He plows his hand through his dark hair, shaking off the overwhelming thoughts of you. He checks the silver Rolex on his wrist. It’s nearly time to leave. Aaron doesn’t usually do this, but he decides to leave this report for tomorrow, when he can look at the letters on the page and not see your face, hear your voice.

Just as he starts packing up, there’s a knock on his open office door. Aaron’s dark eyes flicker up to see Garcia standing in the doorway, Morgan’s tall frame looming behind her. “Hotch, you got anything going on tonight?”

Aaron shakes his head. For once, he actually doesn’t. “Jack’s at a sleepover,” he says. “What’s up?”

“We’re taking Spence and Jacqueline to this nighttime vendor market thingy,” Penelope says, scrunching her nose up with a smile. “You remember Jacqueline?”

It’s been a week since Derek’s birthday, when Jacqueline and Spencer were introduced. More relevantly, since Aaron laid eyes on you. “I remember.”

“You wanna come with us?” Penelope asks with bright eyes. Aaron opens his mouth the decline almost immediately, but Penelope beats him to it. “Y/N’s not coming.”

Aaron arches a brow. “What makes you think I care if Y/N’s coming or not?” he asks.

“Oh, c’mon, Hotch,” Derek puts all his weight on the doorjamb. “We saw you staring at her at my birthday. It’s about time you moved on from Haley, any-”

“If I say I’ll come out, will you stop talking?” Aaron cuts him off, grabbing his briefcase.

Derek ponders this for a second, even looks to Penelope as if to ask permission. He shrugs his shoulders in what Aaron suspects will be the first little white lie of the evening. “Yeah.”

How anyone was able to sprain their ankle while shopping for books is beyond you. Leave it to Jacqueline, the wide-eyed, quirkily clumsy ingénue of her very own romantic comedy, to trip over a curb while gazing starry-eyed at the oh-so dreamy Dr. Reid. She called you from the emergency room with a shrill panic lining her voice, and you immediately leapt up from the couch. You didn’t even bother pausing your show on the TV, just slid some shoes on, grabbed your bag, and bolted out the door.

You’re taking extra long strides, your flip-flops smacking obnoxiously against the linoleum tiles of the hospital floor. When you spot Jacqueline sitting up in the bed, still in her own clothes, you feel instant relief. At least she’s not panicking anymore. Spencer sits diligently by her side, fidgeting with the edges of the sheets. Jacqueline’s right leg is elevated atop several pillows, with a meek smile on her face once her eyes meet yours.

��Spencer, you’re supposed to keep an eye on her at all times,” you joke with a weak laugh, sighing as you plop down in the empty chair beside Spencer’s.

“She saw something shiny and wandered off,” Spencer shrugs, and Jacqueline glares at the both of you.

“This whole talking about me like I’m not here, thing? Not my favorite,” she deadpans. There’s the Jacqueline you know and love. In crowded social settings, she can be reclusive and difficult to open up. But with only a few people around - especially people she’s comfortable around - Jacqueline is a completely different person.

You’re glad she feels comfortable around Spencer after just a week of knowing him. They’re not even officially dating, per se, but tonight they went out with Penelope and Derek to test the waters. You think it’s cute - like two fifth-graders on a chaperoned outing to the movies, with their parents sitting a row behind them.

You were invited to tag along, but you didn’t want to be the fifth wheel. You also were having a really long, insufferable week, and you simply needed some recharge time. So you politely declined.

“Oh, shush, you’ve got bigger fish to fry,” you tell Jacqueline playfully, eyes darting down to her elevated foot. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Sprained ankle, possibly fractured,” Spencer rattles off. “Usually an x-ray isn’t required, but since Jacqueline’s having pain in her malleolar zone - that is, the top part of the ankle that connects to the tibia - the doctor ordered one. We’re waiting on the results to come back, but I think they’ll just put her in a brace for a few weeks. Statistically speaking, only about 15% of sprained ankles result in significant bone fractures.”

You release an awkward little chuckle, very nearly overwhelmed by the amount of information Spencer just dumped on you. Jacqueline shrugs her shoulders a little, like this is just how he is, and I love it.

You blink a few times as you absorb all of Spencer’s ramblings. “So.. she’s gonna be fine?”

“Yeah, she’ll be fine,” Spencer cracks a smile, and his thumb brushes affectionately over the top of Jacqueline’s hand. Your friend blushes furiously, ever-so-clearly under the fluorescent lighting.

“So what exactly happened?” You ask.

Before either of them get to answer, imposing footsteps grow louder, and you hear a familiar voice say, “Okay, coffee acquired.”

Smooth like the neat whiskey he was throwing back the night you met him, Aaron’s voice drags down your spine. Your belly does acrobatic flips. You visibly tense up for a second before turning around to see Aaron with a cardboard drink carrier in his hand containing three to-go cups of coffee.

“Oh, hi, Y/N. When did you get here?” Aaron’s voice goes flat, and he meets your eyes civilly.

“While you were getting coffee, I presume,” you deadpan, and you swear you see one of those imposing brown eyes twitch.

“Right,” Aaron hands Jacqueline her coffee, and then has to lean over you so he can give Spencer his. You catch whiffs of pine and espresso and dark leather. His chest is basically in your face for a solid three seconds. God, he’s broad. He’s also in a suit, save for the jacket and tie, and your eyes catch the crinkly lines in his white dress shirt, no longer crisp from being worn all day. They look like rivers on a map. “Well, I guess I’ll be going. Glad you’re okay, Jacqueline, that was quite the fall.”

“Oh, no, Aaron, you don’t have to go!” Jacqueline pipes up, holding her coffee with two hands. “I mean, only if you need to, but, we’re still waiting for my X-ray to come back, and I know I’d love the company.”

You look at Jacqueline with a bewildered expression. “I mean, I’d love the company of all of you,” Jacqueline corrects, her cheeks pinkening.

You cross your ankles, suddenly aware that you’re in your loungewear - beige linen shorts and a blue Georgetown sweatshirt - and your hair sits in a haphazard knot on top of your head. You have to remind yourself that you don’t care. That Aaron Hotchner’s opinion of you does not matter.

Aaron seems momentarily frozen in place, standing at the foot of Jacqueline’s bed. His eyes dart to you as if to silently ask permission to stay, and you give a subtle, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it shrug and tilt of your head. He inhales and you see his nostrils flare. He clears his throat and says, “Let me find a chair, then.”

There’s something humorous about a man as tall and imposing and draconian as Aaron Hotchner looking for a chair in the emergency room bay of a hospital. Shoulders hunched so he doesn’t inconvenience anyone. You hope he feels embarrassed and humbled by the experience. A muted smirk rests upon your lips as you watch him most unhelpfully, not even bothering to move from your seat.

Eventually he finds a free chair in the corner and drags it to the other side of Jacqueline’s bed, keeping a respectful distance. He looks across the bed at Spencer, who sits beside you. “Did you tell her that Garcia basically pushed Jacqueline over the curb?”

Fluorescent lighting had never been so flattering before. Under its clarifying spotlight, Aaron gets to see details of you he’d missed at the bar where you first met. The texture of your skin, an extra little sliver of thigh from those linen shorts he wasn’t privy to before.

And when he leaned over you to give Reid his coffee? He caught your intoxicating scent and now he fears it will either be stuck in his nostrils forever, or it will fade too quickly, before he can commit it to memory.

“Penelope did what?” You’re asking, looking at Reid, then Jacqueline, brows creasing in the middle.

Aaron folds his left leg atop his right, then nods with an amused smile. It’s clear you still don’t like him - might even hate him for how cold he was to you at the bar the other night. He can tell by the way you refuse to look at him unless absolutely necessary, how your jaw visibly tenses every time he addresses you directly.

“I have no solid proof,” Aaron begins, offering the information as an olive branch. Your eyes snap to his and he’s jarred for a second, then he continues, the corners of his lips ticking up into an amused smile. “But one second, I see Garcia and Morgan at least three feet behind where Jacqueline’s walking, and the next thing I know, she’s on the ground and Garcia’s apologizing profusely.”

“Why isn’t she here?” You laugh softly, and Aaron’s chest thrums. He can’t diagnose his reaction to it, but your laugh, no matter how strained and merely polite it might be at this moment, could be the thing that kills him.

“Something about feeding JJ and Emily’s cat while they’re on vacation,” Jacqueline chimes in. Aaron clocks the younger woman’s eyes and how glued they are on Reid. She’s been so closed off every time Aaron’s around, so this tidbit of information coming from her surprises him. Aaron’s wondered this whole time if she truly likes Reid or if she’s just being kind.

You nod in understanding and lean back in your chair. Little wisps of your hair fall into your eyes and you brush them back delicately with your index finger.

Jacqueline pipes up again, her voice still timid and maybe a little tired. “Would you mind maybe getting me a snack?” She asks you.

Aaron watches the softening of your expression as you look at Jacqueline fondly. You would do anything for her, and he can tell. “Of course,” you squeeze Jacqueline’s uninjured leg as you rise from your seat.

“And maybe Aaron can go with you? Since Spence is pretty hungry, too, right, Spence?” Jacqueline proposes.

Your soft expression twists into one of slight irritance.

Aaron knows exactly what Jacqueline is up to, but it takes Reid a lingering moment to catch on. “What - oh, yeah, I’m starving,” the good doctor adds, even going to far as to pat his stomach, as if to say it’s hollow in there.

Your eyes shrink in annoyance, and you seem to plaster a sickly sweet smile onto your lips, one that would make demons shake in their boots. You lock eyes with Aaron, as if to say, well? What’s it gonna be?

Aaron asks Jacqueline and Reid what they want, then leads the way out of the ER and towards the cafeteria. The hospital’s signage is fairly easy to follow, and Aaron slows his usually long strides so you don’t have to struggle to keep up.

He gestures to your Georgetown sweatshirt. “You graduated from Georgetown?” He asks.

“No, I just like to wear merchandise for schools I didn’t attend,” you deadpan, and there’s that goddamn attitude again.

Aaron considers laying it all out - right here, right now. You’re not even thirty yet, from what Garcia’s told him. He shouldn’t be attracted to you, but he is, and god, is it killing him. Instead, he just furrows his brows and doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah,” you soften a little, shoving your hands in the pockets of the sweatshirt. You seem to be cutting Aaron a little bit of slack, for whatever reason. “Yeah, I went to Georgetown.”

Aaron holds the door open for you when you reach the cafeteria. You feel a little bad for your snarky comment in the hallway. You were not raised to be outwardly rude. You were raised to hoard your resentment like a precious flower, nursing it so it grows big and strong.

“Jacqueline made it really sound like an emergency, huh?” Aaron asks, following you to the line. You shoot him a quizzical brow, and he gestures to your ensemble.

“Oh, excuse me for not wearing an Armani suit to the hospital,” you roll your eyes, but they linger on the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “You just went out right after work, then? In your fancy suit?”

Aaron smooths his fingertips over the white cotton. The color reminds you of freshly cleaned bedsheets. “Yeah, and it’s not Armani, for your information.”

“Sorry, Mr. FBI. What is it, then, Dolce & Gabbana? Ralph Lauren?”

“Tom Ford.”

“Like that’s any less pretentious,” you scoff.

“Hey, I can spend my money however I choose,” Aaron says, and you know he’s right. That doesn’t mean you’re not going to give him shit for it.

“Must be nice to just burn cash,” you say dryly. “I’m sure your wife loves that.”

“I don’t have a wife.” You look at him over your shoulder and his eye twitches a little when he says this.

You’re not sure why you mention a wife anyway. Maybe you’re merely curious, but then again, you’ve already clocked that he’s not wearing a wedding ring. “Girlfriend, then,” you correct. “Do men your age call them girlfriends, or do you prefer the term mistress?”

“Men my age?” Aaron laughs bitterly. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says. His voice is stringent, right on the line of annoyance. You smirk to yourself and grab a tray so you can carry the food. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t call her my mistress, because I don’t have a wife to cheat on with her.”

“Bachelors in the 1800s called their girlfriends mistresses,” you point out, though your facts are coming from Bridgerton, so you’re not sure if they’re entirely accurate. “I don’t know how old-fashioned you are.”

“I’m not,” Aaron says simply as you load an individual-size veggie pizza on your tray for Jacqueline, then grab a bag of chips and a soda for yourself. Aaron grabs the sandwich Spencer requested, and you lead the way to the checkout.

The cafeteria worker punches in your items, and then Aaron’s. “Oh, we’re not together,” you correct politely.

“It’s fine,” Aaron insists, pulling a silver AmEx out of his wallet. You reach for your own wallet to try and beat him, but he’s already swiped by the time you even get it out.

You thank the cafeteria worker before gathering everything in your hands. “You didn’t have to do that,” you say as you and Aaron head out of the cafeteria. He holds the door open for you, again.

“It’s not a big deal,” Aaron says as you walk through the open door. “Chivalry is still alive, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Not old-fashioned, huh?” You smirk as you look up at him, feeling your cheeks redden a bit. Wait, when did this become playful jesting rather than straight-up bullying?

“Maybe a little old-fashioned.” Aaron’s lips hint at a smile, and you feel your mouth go dry.

“Shocking that you’re still on the market,” you say, admittedly because you’re curious about what Penelope said the other night at the bar. Something about Aaron going through a hard time.

“My job requires a lot of my time,” Aaron explains. Your footsteps slow a little and he matches your pace. “Even if I found someone worth all the trouble, I don’t think I’d have the time to dedicate to a relationship.”

“Worth all the trouble?” You repeat, a scoff lining your voice like a thousand tiny needles. Aaron resists the urge to visibly wince at your reaction.

Why you’re prompting all this relationship discussion is beyond him. He’s a profiler, for Christ’s sake, but he can’t pin you down, for some reason. He lays the brickwork down and builds his walls up again. For a moment, back in the cafeteria, he was starting to let you in.

But, no, it doesn’t matter how god-forsakenly adorable you are when you scrunch your nose or call him out on his bullshit. Aaron’s not ready for this kind of thing yet, so iciness is necessary. It protects him, it protects Jack, but - and, maybe most importantly - it protects you.

You’re young and you’re willful. You’re a goddamn hurricane, a force to be reckoned with, but your stubbornness is a house of cards. Aaron Hotchner knows that if he hurts you, the cards will fall. And he could never forgive himself for something like that.

So when you look at him for some kind of explanation, throwing him an arched brow and the opportunity to explain himself, he doesn’t take it. Instead, he watches as you pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, leaving a hell of a view and a frustrated, fully-grown man in your wake.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotchner x reader #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner enemies to lovers #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner x you #hotchner x you #hotch x you

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jotarosbelt · 4 years

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Can you do a pt2 for the “she doesn’t need to know” writing? I wonder what would happen if they got caught 😳😳I can’t stop thinking abt it your writings so good!!

HI @shitty-lollipops !! THANK U SM FOR THIS REQUEST YOU’RE A GOD

cw: choking, dirty talk, creampie

18+ content ahead!

part 1

She Didn’t Need To Know— But, Now She Does. [Jotaro Kujo]

It hadn't necessarily been awkward after the affair between you and Jotaro, no. In fact, ever since that one faithful night, you've felt more sexually satisfied than you had in ages.

Sure, it wasn't morally correct to be screwing your friend's dad ever chance you got, but it sure as hell was worth it. You could see why some of your friends from university constantly talked about how older men were better.

Hell, if you knew they could look like this and dick you down this well, you might've signed up sooner.

You noticeably started going to Jolyne's house more. Not that it bothered her— as a matter of fact, she was ecstatic. She got to see her best friend more often, and it seemed as though her stick-in-the-mud father was coming around to you, too!

Not for the reasons she hoped, though.

"Ahhhh, finals are almost over, babes! I can't wait to get out of this place for the summer and go somewhere with you and Ermes!"

The girl draped herself over your back, locking her arms around your upper body by clutching her wrist with opposite hand. "It's gonna be so much fun! Maybe we can get my dad to fly us out to Italy or something."

You couldn't help but grin, turning your neck and head slightly to face her as you spoke though your eyes never left your computer screen.

"Yeah? I'm down to go to Italy. I'm sure Mr. Kujo wouldn't mind paying for the trip."

You couldn't help but stick your tongue out as you retorted, the black and green haired girl rolling her eyes at the childish gesture.

"You're terrible," she scoffs as she released you from her grip and falls back onto her bed. You finish your sentence on the paper you were typing and turn in your chair, arm resting on the top of it as you grin.

"I'm terrible for going along with your plan to sucker your dad out of some money to go on a girls trip to another country? Alright, then."

You turn back around in your seat, stretching out your fingers before placing them back on the home keys of your keyboard.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, love," you began, the smile dawning your face audible in your voice. "Just know I'm a better person that you."

———

"Hah~ oh fuck--"

You could only rasp out broken phrases and garbled moans as the older male plowed into you, skin slapping against skin feverishly. It was disgusting. You were fucking Jotaro Kujo in his goddamn bathroom, only a few feet away from his daughter and best friend.

You had gotten a text from him while you were laying on Jolyne’s blue covers, doing nothing in particular. You reached over to check your phone, swiping up to unlock it and read the text.

‘Need to blow off steam. Meet me in the bathroom near Jolyne’s room.’

You quickly locked it again and dropped it beside you.

“Who was that?”

You sat up, craning your neck to turn to look at Jolyne. “Oh, it was just someone asking for answers. Nothing important.”

You pushed yourself off of the bed with your hands, stretching your arms above your head and lowering them to pull down your shorts. “I’ll be back. Going to the bathroom.”

She shot you a thumbs-up and you left the room.

You went down the hall, the Kujo home now like your second since you’ve been here more times than you could count. You navigated through the house (all though it wasn’t even that far), and opened the door.

You were pulled in by your wrist and pinned up against the wall, the only sounds in the room being your heavy breathing and the click of the door locking.

“S-Someone’s needy.”

He only grunted, gripping your chin to turn your head back to kiss you.

It was never lost on you that he was a good kisser— no matter how many times you did this, it would never not blow your mind.

His tongue grazed the roof of your mouth and his hips ground into your backside. His semi-hard member seemed like it was rubbing you in all the right places. You could whimpered as he bit your lip.

“Just know I'm a better person that you."

The words you had said just last week rung in your head. It was ironic, really. You said you were a better person than her, meanwhile you were boning her dad and she just wanted to finesse him out of some cash.

Funny.

And yet, you couldn't find it in you at that moment to feel guilty. Or at least guilty enough that you'd make him let go of the bruising grip he had on your hair and waist.

Or give up the feeling of his thick cock dragging against your walls, either.

"Shit, you're still. So. Tight.”

Each pause was punctuated with a thrust of his hips, each one more punishing than the last. It was a miracle Jolyne didn't hear this or care enough about the noise to come investigate— no matter how many times you did this.

And it was a lot more than you would like to admit.

"I can feel you clenching,” Jotaro said, his tone unnervingly even for someone exerting as much effort as he was. “Are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum all over my cock while Jolyne is just a few feet away? Huh?"

You could only whimper in response; he wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you up into his chest.

"Answer me, slut. Do you like the idea of being caught with your best friend's dad's dick stuffed in your pussy? Or am I imagining that you're more fucked up than you actually are?"

Out of fear of what might happen if you didn't obey, you choked out a reply.

"I love it, fuck-- I'm gonna cum, please--"

The chuckle that reverberated in your ear was just as sexy as it was dark.

"Then, shut up and do it."

You couldn't even hold back your orgasm if you tried; it washed over you like a typhoon. You shook against the his built torso, knees buckling as your nerves burned. Your breath caught in your throat as his grip tightened around it and his short hair tickled your shoulder as Jotaro's hips sped up inside you, prolonging your finish to the point of over-stimulation.

How quickly he could make you cum and how hard every orgasm was made you embarrassed.

He was silent as he used you to get off, the only noise escaping him being the low grunt he made as he came, hips twitching against your ass. You sighed as you felt him pull out, his thick cum already leaking out of you and down your thighs.

"I can't believe we just did that."

The whistle of the water pouring out of the sink faucet filled the room as the man lifted a thick eyebrow, not bothering to turn back to look at you. You watched his movements through the mirror.

"You act like this is the first or last time we've done something like this. Grow some backbone, would you? The 'after-sex shy' bullshit is getting old."

His straightforward and brash words no longer bothered you. You scoffed, still monitoring him through the reflective surface as he moved to grab a washcloth. He put it under the running stream of water.

"So, you're telling me that the prospect of your daughter catching you laying pipe on her bestie doesn't bother you in the slightest?”

Bored and tired eyes met yours.

"That's the dumbest thing I've heard you say, and I’ve heard a lot from you these past few months."

You grimace and fold your arms over your clothed chest, ignoring the fact that you were bare from the waist down and Jotaro probably still had his dick out as he spoke.

"You didn't answer me."

You watched his brows furrow and he averted his gaze from you back down to the cloth in the sink.

The squish of the water as he rung it out sounded louder than it should have.

"Of course it bothers me," he started, turning around face you. "What we're doing isn't exactly okay."

"You think I don't know that? I feel awful!"

You maneuvered to sit down on the counter as you spread your legs to let Jotaro stand in between them, wiping your thighs clean of his semen and your juices. You should’ve been embarrassed that he was practically getting an eyeful of your cunt, but at the end of the day, you two had seen each other more than you should’ve. He didn't bother to look up at you as he spoke next.

"So, then, why don't we stop?"

You froze for a second, feeling your brows lift up out of shock. "I—“ You bit your lip. “We both know why neither of us are going to do that, Jotaro."

He sidestepped to rinse out the cloth again, wringing it out as he lifted his head to look at you. "Because we're both addicted and pieces of shit for getting off on the age cap?"

You dryly laughed.

"Ding, ding, motherfucking ding. We’re freaks."

You almost missed the way his lips quirked up at that.

He casually wiped down his cock with the cloth, wringing it once more when he was done and tossing it into the hamper. He tucked himself back into his sweatpants, straightened out his t-shirt, and turned to you.

"Where are your panties and shorts?"

You hopped down from the counter and scanned the floor, finding them crumpled up in the corner. You walked over and reached down, picking them up and pulling on each item one by one.

"You good?"

You nod. "Yeah. I should get back to Jo. I've been missing longer than it should take one to take a piss."

He only grunted in response and stepped back to let you open the door.

You opened up the door, ready to snake your way back into Jolyne’s room and act like nothing happened, but that plan came to a full stop as you opened the door to see Jolyne standing outside about to knock.

Her hand lingered in the air where she was about tap, eyes bouncing back in shock between you and her dad. She sighed and let out a bitter laugh.

“I had a feeling. I should’ve checked earlier. Those noises didn’t necessarily sound like somebody taking a shit.”

"Jolyne--"

She held up her hand to stop you and your jaw snapped shut.

“I'm going out for a walk."

She approached the staircase she was already lingering by, her hand gripping the railing as she leaned into the stairwell slightly. It took a moment that felt like eons for her to turn back and slightly narrow her eyes at you.

And yet, you felt little to no malice being directed towards you and more at her father who's surprised expression faded long ago.

"And you best be ready to explain why you two have been fucking like rabbits when I get back."

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #stone ocean #Jotaro Kujo #jotaro part 6 #jolyne cujoh #not sfw

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 84

Somehow I managed to get this chapter written, despite a pinched nerve that left me, essentially, on bed rest for two days. I keep telling myself I need to make a buffer of chapters, but my life has decided not to cooperate...

I hope everyone out there is staying safe and healthy. Where I live, we are currently under a stay-at-home order, and my company (essential) finally got us up and running to work from home this past week. So I at least have that, and I’m aware how fortunate I am for that.

As always, my inbox and ask box are wide open, so feel free to drop me a line. I love interacting with people on a normal basis.

Somewhat more disturbed than usual, I left Xiomara’s office with Charly in tow. I was about to let her know she was okay to head home when I realized I didn’t really have a choice - Xio made it very clear that I needed an escort with me at all times. Conor was still at work, Tyche stayed behind with my fellow Councillor, and Maverick was likely off work but at home. Charly, however, was right here and one look at her face let me know she was taking her new duties seriously.

“I can call GK,” I tried in vain.

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’ emphatically. “I have a job to do, and ulterior motives. Ninja grandma isn’t taking my spot.” I arched a brow in inquiry, and wasn’t left disappointed. “Ma’am. Suspected cult leader? Attempted viking overlord? And this person clearly has it in for you? Do the guys know? Does Derek know? Hell, does Arthur know?”

“Why do I feel like Arthur outranks my actual partners in that list?”

“He was a warlord, and apparently your bestie in a past life? Stop stalling and talk. Start at freaking cult leader?”

“Alleged.”

“Sophia Michelle, I swear to - “

“That’s not my middle name.”

“And that’s not the point!”

Well, I tried. With a sigh, I surrendered to the inevitable. “A bunch of people have been acting suspiciously lately, all over the Ark. Anti-social, darting eyes, hushed whispers, all that stuff. Tyche and I thought it was just us, until Noah and I were walking one day and a group of them just plowed into us.” I stopped and ran a hand through my hair anxiously. “If it had happened even a week earlier, I would have just shrugged it off and been done. The issue was this.” I tapped my temple emphatically. “Tyche insisted that I get the proximity update to my implant, to avoid being triggered by people walking into me.”

“Well, yeah, that makes sense,” she shrugged brightly. “Not like I didn’t notice… I can’t exactly sneak up and hug you anymore.” She scowled comically.

I let a small smile creep onto my face before continuing. “Right. Well, this was a group of about eight people. They either all ignored the alert, or somehow turned it off. We - well, Derek and Zach - are still trying to figure out which it was. Either way, it was a cause for concern, so a bunch of us brought it to Xiomara. We suspected it might be a cult, so Grey was also consulted. They agreed there was a possibility, but pointed out we need inside information. Jokull Bjornson, recipient of your feral tendencies, is our best guess for the leader if it is a cult. So, Xio said she would look into it, but essentially told me that anyone associated with me would be out of the loop.”

“So why is Tyche…?”

“I don’t knowwww!” I whined in frustration. “And it’s not like she can tell me, so I can’t exactly ask, because I don’t want her to feel bad, right?”

“Ugh, that sucks,” she agreed. “And you have no idea why this guy hates your kidneys?”

“Eyeah, as far as that goes? You know as much as I do, and I know that isn’t much right now.”

She shrugged before bouncing on her toes. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to Coffee, he’ll probably agree to shadow you some of the time. And it would be from a distance, so you wouldn’t feel like a kid being walked to kindergarten.” When I looked at her, skeptical, she shrugged again. “He likes you.”

“He’s spoken maybe four words to me,” I pointed out.

“And yet, you understand him. That means he likes you.”

My mind reeling, we made the rest of the way to my quarters with small talk. However, when we arrived, Charly refused to head home until she saw Maverick and the door closed behind me. I swear, I get confronted once…

“Why did Charly look like an attack marten?”

Nuggets. “There was an incident today,” I groaned before peeking up at the ceiling. “Miys? Were you recording in Xiomara Kalloe’s office between 1800 and 1900 subjective ship time?”

“I was not, Wisdom.”

Figures. Special ops of whatever flavor Xio had been did not lend well to being surveilled. “Okay, thank you.” I looked back at Maverick. “I don’t want to explain this again, so give me a second. I was recording, because I knew this would happen.” After some fidgeting to isolate the conversation in Xio’s office, I flicked the file over to Maverick. “It’s audio only, but it at least saves me some time.” I left him to watch it while I wandered into the food prep area for a drink.

I managed to swallow my second sip of wine before an angry shout came from the living room. “What the hell!?” was followed by Maverick striding into the kitchen and checking me over. “Were you hit? Did he fucking touch you?”

My arm was tangled in my shirt before I was able to stop him. “Mav… Maverick.. Babe! Stop! I swear, I’m fine. Even Charly is fine - “

“Charly being fine is Coffee’s concern - “

“But we are both okay,” I finished. “I swear, he didn’t even touch me. Charly shoved me out of the way before he could.”

“I’m gonna - I need to get Conor, we’re gonna kill - “

“Listen to the rest of the recording,” I begged. “He didn’t just walk away, I promise.”

After a couple of deep breaths and another glance to make sure I was okay, Maverick nodded. “I’m going to play this entire thing when Conor is home, probably after securing him to something that is bolted to the deck.”

“Well, that’s one way to keep him from flying off the handle,” I mused.

“Uh huh,” he replied sardonically, not even a bit fooled by what I was implying. “I don’t think even that is going to distract him.”

“It was worth a shot.”

“I think French toast has a better chance.”

“Gotcha. French toast and lots of restraints.”

That got a laugh out of Maverick, and he finally let go of my shoulders. While he shot a message to our third to skip the overtime, I started getting ingredients together for a hearty breakfast-for-dinner meal. We managed to time it just right, so the main dish came out of the oven just as Conor was finishing his shower.

Any hope that we even partially fooled him was dashed right after he sat down and saw the spread. First he grinned, then got serious, and one glance at the broiled tomatoes gave it away. “Neither of you like those,” Conor pointed to the offending dish with a whine. “Something bad happened, didn’t it?” He glanced at our expressions before sighing and filling his plate. “Alright, what gives? Another plague? Ship stalled in space? Lost forever in subspace or whatever?”

“Something happened today,” I ventured carefully. “I sent Maverick a recording, and he can play it if you want…”

To his credit, Conor held up one hand while he shoveled a piece of French toast into his mouth as fast as he could chew, quickly followed by one fried egg and two pieces of sausage. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. Got enough to make sure I’m not reacting on an empty stomach.”

“I just ask that you listen to the entire recording, no matter how bad it is at the beginning?”

He sighed again, held up his hand, chugged a glass of milk. “Okay. I will do everything in my power to sit right here and not touch anything fragile or talk until I hear the whole thing.”

I really couldn’t ask for more than that, so I nodded to Maverick. Once he pulled up the audio recording, we sat tensely until it finished. The only sounds outside of the record were Conor grinding his teeth and both men clenching their hands tightly enough to pop the joints. Their expressions were a kaleidoscope of emotions, finally settling on determination when they heard Xiomara insist that I have an escort until further notice.

Snagging seconds of everything, Conor nodded to Maverick. “Us, Tyche, apparently Charly.. You think that Farro bloke?”

“He would,” Maverick agreed, digging into his own now-cold plate of food. “Don’t forget Grandma Kim.” Conor pointed emphatically with his fork at the suggestion.

“Wait, what are you two doing?” I sputtered. “Putting together a hit squad?”

“Ach, no,” Conor dismissed my suggestion. “Escort detail. If we wanted to take the fucker out, we’d leave it to Tyche and Farro and be done.”

“Not you?” I was so confused.

Maverick shook his head, gesturing with one finger between the two men. “We would feel guilty and regret it, probably the rest of our lives. Those two, especially with someone who is endangering you again? Probably would sleep better the night they did it.”

Conor nodded enthusiastically. “But I’m rather fond of your sister, and the Farro fella is alright I guess, so I’d hate to see them sedated and popped out an airlock at FTL speeds.”

“Oh,” I replied dumbly. I expected to have to calm them down, not to see them make such merciless decisions so quickly. “Um. In that case. Charly said she’d talk to Coffee about shadowing me some of the time?”

I jumped when Conor hit the table with one hand. “See, that’s what I’m talkin’ about! We’ll keep you safe, Sophie… Aw, shit…” He jumped up and knocked the chair over as I dissolved into tears.

My eyes were closed so tightly that I actually lashed out as arms circled around me. It was only when a smooth cheek pressed against my own that my body recognized it was Maverick and surrendered to protection. Vaguely, I could hear Conor speaking, but just enough to register that it wasn’t directed at me, so the words just didn’t register as important.

When I finally calmed down, I was curled tightly in a ball on a soft surface, black hair obstructing my vision. Maverick’s voice was speaking, an almost-chant that was soothing me. “I’m right here. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe. I’m right here…” I realized he was rubbing me briskly, alternating between my arms and my legs.

With a sniff, I lifted my head. “I’m sorry,” I started.

He shushed me. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured me. “It was a tense situation, and you expected one of us to get angry, so when Conor hit the table, your body didn’t realize it was a cheer and not anger. You just heard someone you expected to be angry hitting something. It’s okay.”

“Conor…?” I started to ask, not able to make the words go.

“Not mad,” a voice from the door assured me. When I wormed my way to see his face, Conor was sitting on the floor, back against the door frame. “As soon as I saw your face collapse, I realized what I did. I’m sorry, Sophie. But I swear I’m not mad. Or upset, or disappointed, or any of those things that your mind is trying to over-pick at. I just feel like an idiot, that’s all.”

“You’re not a idiot,” I insisted.

He grinned. “And you’ll defend me to your dying day, I think. But I should have been more mindful, and I will be. I swear. No loud noises when Sophie’s nervous - it isn’t a huge request. I can leave the room, just like when I’m mad, right?” That grin never lost its sunny nature, and I knew he meant it.

He stood to come over, and I felt Maverick’s arms tighten around me. “You upset her again, I’m going to knock your lights out,” a voice warned over my shoulder.

“I’d let you do it, mate,” Conor replied sincerely, holding out his hand. I reached for it, but he merely squeezed my fingers before reaching further.

He wanted Maverick’s permission, I realized. Not just mine. Tension flooded what I now realized was our bedroom before Maverick finally took Conor’s hand. “I mean it,” he insisted with a warning tone. “Do better, or I’m going to knock you out every time you, personally, upset her.”

“Someone should,” Conor agreed sincerely.

“Violence is not the way to handle this,” I sniffed. “There’s a learning curve, but it’s pretty steep with all the anxiety on the ship right now.” Wriggling so I could see them both, I tried to muster a stern look. “Episodes like this are going to happen. We’re just going to have to learn, together, how to navigate them.”

“Still, no loud noises when Sophie’s nervous.”

Maverick nodded. “That definitely seems like a good starting point.”

I couldn’t exactly argue with that.

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#the miys #humans are weird #aliens #found family #original fiction #science fiction #tw panic attack #tw ptsd #relationships #apocalypse #humans are strange #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #my writing #original scifi #original writing

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stutterfly · 5 years

Text

Love Bytes 01 | BIOS Flash | KNJ (M)

Summary: It’s been a year since you first met Kim Namjoon, the passionate, talented English professor at the local campus. He’s always been clumsy and aloof, but he’s on a whole new level in terms of “technologically incapable.” One call to IT was all it took to pull you into his life, and with it a whole string of friendships full of flirtatious banter and undying support.

Your dating situation has been drier than the Sahara for years now, and you’ve wasted too many lonely nights drinking alone, so you try your hand at Tinder. But you’re not getting any bites. When the group finds out, they are more than willing to help--even Namjoon, though he finds it increasingly difficult to deny that he’s hopelessly smitten. You consider their opinions on potential Tinder dates while fighting off feelings you never knew were brewing for the caring soul who becomes the home you never had.

Word Count: 3.9K

Series: Love Bytes (1/?)

Genre: F2L, Fluff, eventual smut, friendship feels, slow burn, fluff, sexual tension, humor Bestfriends!au

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7

masterlist // next chapter

A/N: It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything at all so I apologize for the first chapter being short. I plan on rewriting this beginning once I get into the swing of things again.

Do not repost.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Saturday nights are the best. It feels like the only time you get to hang out with your friends all week, the one night that everyone’s busy schedules all align. Min Yoongi, the quiet, empathetic bartender. Kim Seokjin, the sweet, creative chef. Park Jimin, the elegant, angelic model. Jeon Jungkook, the silly, driven personal trainer. Kim Taehyung, the rich, successful artist. Jung Hoseok, the energetic, spunky dance instructor. Kim Namjoon, the pragmatic, passionate college professor. And of course you, the IT person for the university Namjoon works for. It’s how you became involved in this tight-knit squad. Truthfully though, the seven of them are beautiful, godlike even. You count yourself lucky to be among them, even by accident.

It seems a little odd for someone so young to be so bad with technology, but Namjoon explained he has a habit of stuff breaking around him --he calls it a curse-- so it held no lasting shock value after you really got to know him. Shortly after he started, you saved his ass by replacing a very expensive projector out of pocket so he wouldn’t get in trouble with the university. He promised to make it up to you, and not just by repaying you the cost of the projector. He was genuinely grateful and easy to talk to.

It’s no wonder you now call him your bestie.

At first disbelief swirled in your mind that a guy like Namjoon could know so many hot people, let alone be good friends with them. But even Namjoon is pretty for a professor, though it's something you’d never admit to his face. You don’t need him hanging it over your head since it's just an observation, not a confession. Better to let him suffer with the knowledge you think his friends are hot, and that he's mediocre. He doesn’t need the ego boost with the posse of college tail chasing him around campus.

As you approach the shared flat of Jungkook and Taehyung, you hear the sound of explosions and gunfire. You listen a moment before knocking. Overwatch maybe? Then comes the unmistakable “NERF THIS.”

Yup, definitely Overwatch.

“Get on the payload! Over here! Tae! What are you doing!? Come on!” A high-pitched Jungkook is pleading through panic, but you can barely hear him over Taehyung’s drawn out hollering.

“Video games? That’s the big plan for tonight? What happened to going out to a club?” Hoseok’s disappointed voice carries through the door.

You let out a giggle at the sound before your knuckles are rapping just below the peephole, with 5 knocks knock---knock-knock---knock--knock. From the other side of the door comes the answering knock--knock before it swings open to reveal a grinning, wide-eyed Hoseok.

“Y/N!” The excitement when he greets you is bright enough to melt your heart.

“Hey, Hobi. Huh. Did I miss the party or is this it?”

He rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, “I hope not.”

You scan the room. Taehyung and Jungkook are surrounded by pillows, controllers in hand with their eyes glued to the television. They don’t spare a glance, even as Hoseok slams the door like a child throwing a tantrum. Namjoon, who is lounging on the couch behind the boys, immediately greets you with a lazy “hey.” You notice a pile of blankets on the floor next to Jungkook as you wriggle out of your shoes.

“You alive, Yoongi?” You’re careful to step over the mess as the bundle begins squirming.

Mint hair emerges from the stack and you hear him groan. “If we’re not going out soon, I’m just going to stay here and sleep. I worked three doubles this week.”

“Three doubles? You sure you’re alive?”

“No,” he pauses, dropping his face back into a pillow, muffling the sound. “But at least I’ve got tips. Tips I can use to drink GOOD liquor and not the cheap stuff Jin is drinking. If we ever leave...”

“Okay, okay. We’re almost done,” Tae mumbles, eyes still fixed on the match.

You plop down next to your friend, stretching one leg across his lap. The response comes with a heavy sigh as Namjoon looks up from his phone. “For real? You know, there’s a whole lotta couch over there.”

He gestures lazily toward the empty cushion to your right. Not wasting a glance, you bring your other leg over his lap and recline fully across the space. “Better?”

“That’s just disrespectful.” He shakes his head as he resumes scanning his phone, but makes no attempt to move you.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah….” You mindlessly take out your own phone and open Tinder, hoping to see something noteworthy in your inbox.

Of course there have been crushes you developed in the last year within this group. Each one of them had their own way of flustering you, their own way of making you want to break the barrier between friendship and something more. However, you decided that messing with the group dynamic would be awful and unfair, so you made up a rule called “Firewall”; they were off limits and Namjoon agreed to help keep it that way.

The firewall rule did nothing to stop the biggest crush of all though, the butterflies when he said your name, or when he looked at you; it did nothing to stop the absolute thirst you had for Park Jimin. But you don't dare do anything about it. It would be awkward as fuck when he turned you down, at least that’s what you keep telling yourself.

To distract yourself from your ever-growing thirst, you downloaded a dating app a few months back. It's been more than a few years since you’ve dated anyone, and even longer since you’ve gotten laid. It's time to do something about it. You can't just keep on telling Namjoon his friend is bangable and pining for even a one-night stand with someone so fine, not when you know it's something you'll never act on.

While you created your own profile a while back, you've kept it a secret from your friends, afraid of the humiliation that would come with the discovery. The problem is that you found yourself comparing every potential match with Jimin. Who could possibly measure up to a goddamn model with a heart of gold? But you’re not dumb; you know you’re not on his level. Lowering your standards allows you to swipe right on a few guys, but your standards can only get so low and there's a lot of garbage to sift through.

Most of the conversations have been boring dead ends that last less than a week. Trying to get laid is turning out to be harder than the campus-wide changeover to Gigabit Ethernet last summer. You still have nightmares about being strangled to death with cables.

“Hey that’s my seat!”

The pout dripping from Jimin’s voice is palpable and you can’t help it when your lips curl into a smile at the sound. It’s almost intoxicating how much pleasure you derive from being able to pull a pouty voice from someone so gorgeous.

Clutching the phone screen to your chest, you drop your head to the armrest and over the edge of the couch to look up at the boy sipping out of a bendy straw. “Move your feet, lose your seat, Chim.” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Wanna be my headrest?”

You playfully kick at Namjoon’s thighs, trying to get him to volunteer his seat. Your boy, however, doesn’t have your back. He fails to take the hint or even acknowledge your attempt to move him.

Fuck you, Joon.

For a moment you see Jimin tonguing the inside of his cheek with consideration. You bite down, instinctively chewing your bottom lip. Watching him watch you feels like torture. There’s a hint of those bedroom eyes working over your form and you feel yourself trapped, pinned by the sinful gaze.

As if a switch is flicked, a shy smile creeps across his lips and he feigns innocence. “Maybe later, cutie.”

That man is going to be the death of you. You’re sure of it.

You can hear Jin and Hoseok doing shots down the hall and your desire to join them flares for a moment. Jimin seemingly has the same idea, and makes his way back into the kitchen with his drink. Your eyes follow his form as he saunters across the room, reflexively licking your lips at the way his ass moves in those jeans. You fail to fix your jaw as it goes slack. Your eyes glaze as you’re consumed by thoughts of gripping that same juicy ass as he’s plowing into you with his cock.

A throat clears from the direction of your feet, breaking the sinful imagery in your head. Namjoon is staring at you with that smug ‘do you wanna share with the class’ grin. He blinks in rapid succession and cocks his head to one side, mouthing the word ‘Really?’.

You feel warmth in your face, retorting with a silent, offended ‘What?’, to which Namjoon stifles a hard laugh with a slender finger. He shakes his head and begins typing on his phone. Not even a second later your phone buzzes.

Joonie: You want me to open your legs for him and point?? You got those fuck-me Jimin eyes going.

Instinctively, you flip up the hood on your sweater and tug on the drawstrings, as though they will hide the shame and heat in your cheeks. Your thumbs are like lightning as they move across the screen.

You: DON’T CALL ME OUT LIKE THIS. HE’S TOO HOT. I CAN’T HELP IT.

Joonie: You’re so thirsty. CHILL.

You: I 👏CAN’T 👏

Joonie: You know you could probably get it if you just asked already. You worry too much. He’s used to keeping things super casual.

You: yeah but I’m not

Joonie: I know. You’d make a big deal about it and freak.

You: wow rude

Joonie: I ain’t rude, just honest.

You: The only freaking i would be doin is in his bed

Joonie: Yeah, okay. 🙄

You: awww jelly Joonie is best Joonie. 😘

Joonie: 🤢Nah.

You: Try not to think of me gettin that high-speed hookup

Joonie: Cause it’s over so fast or???

You: …

Joonie: No comeback? Nothing?

You: Oh he’ll cum back alright… And on the front... maybe in the mouth? Idk if he’s got creampie privilege yet...

Joonie: 🤢🤢🤢I wish I was blind so I would never have had to read that with my own eyes.

You: that boy can penetrate my firewall any time 🍆

Joonie: ENOUGH 🤮

A fit of laughter creeps out of you when you look over and he smears a hand down his face slowly.

Joonie: Fuck it. I’m gonna show him this convo.

You: Good luck explaining a firewall

Joonie: You literally just said you want him to jizz all over you. Plus the eggplant, which is generous btw.

You: u wouldn’t know

Joonie: Wouldn’t I? 🤔 We were roommates once.

You: joke’s on you. Now im imagining an eggplant and an avocado, but the eggplant is still Jimin

Joonie: You know what people love? Avocados.

You: Smearing your thick avocado on those hipster girls?

You regret the text immediately, outwardly cringing as you hit send. The last thing you want to be thinking about is Joon’s cock, but with that euphemism, you can’t stop visualizing it in the worst way possible.

Joonie: …Are you done talking about my dick? 😏

“You drinking or what?” Ignoring the heat lingering in your cheeks, you pocket your phone and try to also ignore the way the top half protrudes from your annoyingly tiny front pocket.

He has a shit-eating grin strewn across his face, dimples forming thick creases in his cheeks. “I already pregamed.” He turns his attention to the match, which has been stuck in overtime for the last 30 seconds. “Go get your drink on. I’m good.”

You knock the phone from his hands as you swoop your legs off the couch, and his eyebrows raise at you in warning. “Watch it, Geeksquad.”

Maintaining eye contact, you rise and blink a few times. You have to assert your dominance and let him know where his lanky ass stands. “Oh Em Gee. I’m like. Suuuper sorry, Professor Kim!”

It’s not that you hear Yoongi’s laughter, but more that you see his shoulders moving the blankets in a steady rhythm. Namjoon’s disgusted groan that follows is music to your ears. You’d told him before two could play that game, and you always delivered. The amount of “Professor Kim, please don’t give me detention” lines were cringey enough as you were saying them, but it was that juicy pissed off Namjoon grunt that made every word worth it. With a witchy cackle, you follow the path around the hall that Jimin took to get to the kitchen.

Hoseok is waiting with a full glass outstretched. “Knew you were coming for one.”

You don’t bother asking what it consists of; you merely down the liquid and slam the cup on the counter. Wow, talk about a strong fucking drink. Was there any mixer in that? Man, you wished Yoongi was making drinks instead; he always gets it perfect. Hoseok tends to throw a bunch of shit together and live off the buzz for hours. Thinking about it now, you probably shouldn't have downed it that fast. But hey, thirsty girl and all that. You take what you can get.

“Aaaaahh, Y/N! My good friend!” You know Jin is already cocked as his arms constrict your airflow with the tightest of bear hugs.

You wheeze out a sound of surprise before your arms come up in a rigid motion to awkwardly pat him a few times. “Hey Jin. Started early?”

“Had the day off!” he states proudly. The loss of his body heat makes you shiver, but your lungs thank him for the relief.

Hoseok bursts into laughter, shoving a shot in your face. You find yourself laughing along with him before you down it in one gulp, face instinctively scrunching at the bitter taste of the cheap whiskey. Confused, Jin looks over at Jimin for explanation before succumbing to laughter without knowing what the joke is.

“It’s Saturday,” Jimin says plainly, his eyebrows knotted together in confusion. He’s smiling, but not nearly at the tipping point that Jin has passed to be laughing so hard. “We all have the day off.”

Of course the blonde’s response only makes him laugh harder.

“Man I wish I were that fucked up,” you say, watching the tall man keeled over in laughter.

Jimin pries the bottle from Hoseok’s hands and begins to pour you another shot. His hands are steady as he holds the glass out to you, his eyes warm and inviting. You can’t help but smile stupidly back at him. Soft fingers send a wave of electricity through you as they brush against yours. With a collected breath, you slam the shot faster than he poured it, swallowing the vile liquid as though it could save you from embarrassment of his touch. You reach for the bottle to pour it yourself this time, but the blonde-haired boy yanks it away from your grasp.

“Ah, now that I think about it, you should slow down actually…”

The pouty groan in your throat escapes before you can stop it. His mouth drops open in surprise before spreading into a cheeky grin.

“Aw, so cute!”

“You know, I can just take it back,” you blurt. Even though he has a point, maybe you just want to drink yourself stupid like Jin. Or maybe you just don’t like being told what to do. Maybe it's a little bit of both.

He cocks an eyebrow as if to challenge you, voice dropping an octave lower than normal. “Can you really?”

Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to abort mission yet you push through. You lean in close, trying to win this game of chicken you've grown accustomed to playing. He’s cheating, moving the bottle towards his back as you reach out. Your brows knit together as his smile grows impossibly wider. Damn that smug face. Your hand lightly traces the denim jacket along his arm, never leaving the contact of his eyes with your own. Instead of a bottle, you find an empty palm at his back, and it instantly grips you tightly.

Surprised but not willing to be outdone, you stand up straight enough to make yourself seem imposing, standing on your toes for extra assistance. For a moment he looks shy, like he might back off. The internal praise your mind produces inflates your ego. But instead he tilts his head to the side and towards you, inching nearer to your lips. Blonde hair sweeps across his forehead and he lets his eyes partially close, biting down on his juicy bottom lip to beckon you closer. Recognizing the seductive tactic, an unconscious restraint purses your lips and you trail shaky fingers across the denim of the other arm until you reach his back.

Feeling across the small of his back, your chest presses against his and you hold your breath to gauge his reaction. A sensual sigh fans your cheek as you drag your hand down, hoping to find the bottle and end the game. You'd like to go nurse the remainder of its contents and die of embarrassment. Again you find his hand, though as you grab this one, he intentionally drags your palm across his ass; he flexes his glutes as he does so, giggling when your jaw drops open.

“Wow, you would put me in this position, Y/N?” He clicks his tongue teasingly. He knows he’s already won, but he decides to put the nail in your goddamn coffin. “Such a dirty girl.”

The darkness in his eyes betrays the playfulness of his tone. Jaw still slack, the sinister expression of the man before you pins you in place. Desperate for escape, you suddenly notice Jin, who is standing unusually close. He takes a swig from the bottle, heavy-lidded eyes darting between Jimin and yourself. As Jimin breaks eye contact as well, you use the opportunity to slip from his sweaty hands and create distance. Jin is grinning like a madman.

“Such a dirty girl!” Jin croons, looping his arm around your neck.

“Such a dirty, girl!” Hoseok chimes in, hooking his arm with Jin’s.

You sigh, ducking out from beneath from the boys and leaning against the countertop behind you. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Two short buzzes alert you to a message. Tapping the power button, you check the screen discreetly to make sure you’re not missing a Tinder message. The flash of Namjoon’s text sparks disappointment and a hint of annoyance. You whisk away his message from the lock screen with a flick of your thumb.

“We can change that!” Jin assures, rushing into the next room, followed by an amped up Hoseok. “Taehyung where are your keys?”

“Huh? You’re not driving!” There’s a scrambling sound and the familiar jingle of keys.

“Well duh. I’m just saying you have the best car.”

“Yeah, but I want to drink too so we’re calling for Ubers. Who’s riding with who?”

“Drinking buddies! Pair up!”

You fail to miss the way Jimin’s eyes slowly drift over you as he passes by; it’s as though he wants to devour you --and god, would you let him after that intense eye-fuck. He pauses for a moment, letting his tongue dart out as he turns his head back to you. It looks like he might have something to say, but instead he smacks his lips and shakes his head.

On the counter sits the bottle, nearly empty. As soon as he’s out of sight, you take a hearty swig, finishing what you’re pretty sure is half syrup, half Jin’s spit. The recoil of the taste is easier to handle than whatever the fuck that was.

As you round the corner you nearly bump heads with Taehyung, who is sprinting down the hall towards the bathroom. “Gotta pee quick. Hold up.”

You find yourself distracted by the very fit Jungkook army-crawling his way around the floor, the muscles in his arms bulging with each movement. “You guys see my other shoe?”

Yoongi yawns as he sits up, rubbing his eyes. “A shoe?”

“Bless you!” Jin and Jimin are cackling, the familiar windshield wiper laugh drowning out the groans from the rest of them.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You’re sitting cross-legged on the thick platform beside the front steps of the apartment. The concrete is chilly and you’re grateful for the layer between your thighs and the stone. Jin had climbed into the first car with Tae, Yoongi, and Jungkook. They were probably already halfway there at this point. Hobi was bouncing his leg impatiently as he sat on the step beside you. You can tell by his grumbling that he was more than a little irritated about having to ride in the second car. Namjoon and Jimin were relaxed though, talking about their movie plans for tomorrow.

The glow of your phone is the only thing saving you from catching eyes with Jimin. On screen is a half-written profile of someone trying not to get caught by their spouse; you crinkle your nose and swipe left. Nope. In its place you see the thousandth picture today of a grizzled man holding a fish. Nope. Next is a shot of a guy looking down into the camera and you swear you can see up his nostrils and into the cavity where his brain should be. Nope. You continue on like this, cringing at each profile before swiping left. You’re not sure how they can get worse, but they keep finding a way.

Then you see a smile that’s fairly captivating. You tap on the next photo, expecting it to suck, but it doesn’t. Scrolling down, you read a humble, self-deprecating blurb about a confident dude with a clear love of cats and exercise that brings an awkward smile to your lips. At this point, you’ve swiped left so much that it’s become habitual and you’re feeling uneasy about doing the opposite. There has to be something awful you’re missing. You scan through a second time, begging for some kind of dealbreaker to ease your twitching finger. Still uncertain, you scroll back up and decide to look through some more pictures.

When you tap on the next photo, a steamy image of nude chest appears. The outline of abs glisten below in the reflection of a mirror, a towel draped lazily around his waist just below a dark, delicious happy trail. Your hand instinctively comes up to your mouth, teeth clenching down on a curled finger. As you drink in the sight, the breath catches in your throat and a fire burns in your chest, spreading quickly down your stomach to the heat in your pussy.

It’s then that you feel your stomach drop, the horror of another presence looming over the screen with you. Hoseok sits with his chin resting on a palm, staring down at the same image with a concentrated gaze. For a moment only your eyes move, now acutely aware of the man to your left. You’re frozen in place, hoping the shame will kill you instantly so you don’t have to face the following moments.

You sit motionless, like maybe if you’re still enough, he’ll forget you’re there. You pray his perception is based on movement as your teeth sink deeper into the flesh of your knuckle, letting only shallow breaths escape. But as the seconds pass, they grow increasingly unbearable. You turn your head, ever so slightly, immediately locking eyes with Hoseok. The crooked smile on his face speaks volumes louder than the whisper that follows.

“Such a dirty girl.”

#bts fanfic #bts #bts au #bts fic #bts scenario #bts smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #AYSC #love bytes #namjoon smut

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befitandchase · 5 years

Text

Weather Debriefing 10:45pm 3/28/2020

I’m exhausted. Simply put. Nearly 12 hours of driving today between 2 states. And I still managed to maintain a 6ft distance between my chase partner and I. (Probably because we were in separate cars.)

Anyway, about that weather...

While I do agree with the SPC for putting out that PDS warning, because it did pan out (somewhat), their tornado watch for this afternoon was a little over the top.

That’s a gigantic watch, probably the biggest I’ve ever seen. Three states covered all at once because there was potential. Unfortunately, there just wasn’t that much potential.

Diurnal heating wasn’t reduced due to ongoing convection throughout the day. That put a hamper on lapse rates until well into the late afternoon when skies finally cleared around 5pm.

Then, things started to happen. As I mentioned in my last post, we left Galesburg for Burlington about 30 minutes before a cell became tornado warned. While I’m bummed we weren’t on that storm, apparently every other chaser was so it would have been a clusterfuck had we not gone into Iowa.

It took a little while for things to ramp up, but when they did, we were there!

It started with this little storm that began to develop about 37 miles south of us. We started to head that way, back over into Illinois.

And then things went sideways. By that I mean my chase partner decided to core punch the storm so we could be on the western side of it (where you’re most likely to see a tornado). Now, he knows I hate core punching. An incident back in 2010 has given me PTSD with respect to core punching.

So, what is core punching? Basically, it’s when you drive through the heart of the storm, which is where your heaviest rain and hail occurs. I am so thankful we did this early on in the storm’s life cycle where it was just a little bit of heavy rain, and that’s it.

We stopped about a mile or two from the storm to take a look and make a visual inspection.

It was meh at this point in time. But it was strengthening rapidly unbeknownst to us. I pull up radar a few minutes later and this is what I see:

We’re basically smack dab in the middle of 3 developing cells. We’re surrounded by storms. So what does John decide? Let’s go back north and see what it does!

We core punch again. I’m 👌 that close to killing him. And then, it happens. My phone goes off, the radio goes off. TORNADO WARNING. I shit you not. In the span of about 15 minutes, this little storm went from a literal blip on the radar to producing a tornado.

I screenshot that well after the initial warning came through, but, yeah. We pretty much hit the jackpot. NOBODY was on this storm except for us. And we chased it. Holy fuck did we chase it!

I lost track of where we went on our quest to actually see the tornado, but then John put the final nail in his coffin: turning onto a wet dirt road. Just like core punching, wet dirt roads also give me PTSD flashbacks from chases past.

He was lucky he was in his car because I probably would have killed him.

We finally make it to a paved road and let me tell ya, we ended up running right along side that storm. I wish we’d stopped to take a few photos, but the situation was turning more dangerous by the minute.

Yep, dusk was upon us and we needed to haul ass to get northeast so we wouldn’t get caught up in the continuing tornadic activity.

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

We plowed head first into it and by some miracle didn’t die? Somehow we managed to avoid the worst of it, but talk about white knuckle driving for at least 3 hours.

By the time we finally reached I88 (the highway home), my phone had gone off with 4 separate tornado warnings.

There was a point during this whole ordeal where I actually called my bestie for guidance because I was afraid we would get caught up in a secondary storm to our southwest that was also producing a tornado. Unfortunately, I have no more images after this because the drive home took us from highways to back roads back to highways.

I am just so happy to be home right now. And although I didn’t see a tornado today, I’m still glad I chased because a bad day chasing beats a good day doing anything else.

#storm chasing #weather discussion #severe weather #tornadoes #radar #ilwx

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langwrites · 5 years

Text

Lang Plays Fire Emblem: Three Houses

So a while ago I said I was planning on playing the story routes in this order: Blue Lions, Black Eagles, Church of Seiros, and then Golden Deer.

The Golden Deer made a liar out of me.

So, here’s an approximation of What Happened During Verdant Wind.

So many spoilers below the cut, you guys. I do a lot of route comparisons.

Okay, I’ve been staring at the “which house do you want” selection screen for an embarrassing amount of time.

This shouldn’t be hard. I had a plan.

But no.

I clicked the Golden Deer, just like that. What the fuck, Claude. I blame you.

Immediately upon talking to this rop of students again, I can feel the difference in the social group from what the Lions were like. The latter were really a bunch of noble kids around their prince, and they felt really tight-knit. Classic Fire Emblem starter crew.

The Golden Deer is the fucking Scooby Gang.

First impressions of individuals:

Raphael, thank goodness, is the one character who absolutely has his shit in order. Sure, he’s bad at book work and thinks everything comes down to MUSCLES, but all of his emotional issues are handled by the time he arrives at Garreg Mach. He’s the brightest of sunshines.

Ignatz needs some more confidence in his art, and also I want to see his painting of Seiros. Now, if only both of his offensive stats and growths weren’t incredibly bad.

I was so close to making him my dancer. Just because he sure as hell wasn’t gonna be useful anywhere else.

Lorenz! I don’t like him. His haircut is a monstrosity.

Leonie! We are going. To be. Besties. Even though the timing of your support conversations are incredibly bad.

Marianne no please don’t be sad everyone loves you

Hilda is the greatest enabler I have ever seen. By which I mean she enables other people to do all her work for her.

Lysithea is going to have the last word with God. And especially he Death Knight.

And finally Claude! Teamwork makes the dream work, so obviously meme work does the same.

I’m sorry.

PRE-TIMESKIP

Mock battle! Marianne’s great and I love her and also the only healer oh god.

OKAY. I have access to New Game+ bonuses. What do I do first?

Immediately crank the Professor Level stat to max to avoid ever having to run short of activity points again.

Next, raise all skills I can’t easily get to at least Rank D+. HEAVY ARMOR IN PARTICULAR.

Third: Boost supports with people whose support ranks are an absolute pain in the ass to earn. Lookin’ at you, Rhea.

Also, put glasses on Byleth (named “Yuri” for this playthrough). Glasses are the bomb. I am the evil genius.

LEVEL GRINDING TIME.

It’s a lot harder with Blacksmith access being story-locked, but I can do this!

As a direct result, every single battle after this point is a complete curbstomp in my favor. Because the grind don’t stop.

I broke a lot more weapons than last time, though.

I will befriend Leonie and Ferdinand if it’s the last fucking thing I do. I will befriend everyone, and I will not get timeskip-locked out of supports! >:(

Ferdinand was my first recruit. Oh dear.

Okay, there are like five born cavaliers in this game. Leonie, Ferdinand, Lorenz, Sylvain, and I guess Dimitri if you’re on the right route.

Last time, Sylvain was a great paladin and a decent Dark Knight before he started getting one- or two-stat level ups for like thirty levels. Similarly, Dimitri was great until all his ultra-secret-awesome promotions didn’t use a fucking horse.

Contrast Leonie who, despite sitting out 99% of the game out of spite from me getting locked out of her support chain, went to endgame with a ten-level deficit and still rocked.

Ferdinand didn’t count since I failed to recruit him last time and he died. These two facts are directly related.

I didn’t use Lorenz at all; I recruited him to keep from having to kill him later.

This time, Lorenz straight-up sucks, Sylvain did the terrible level dance for like the entire game, and Dimitri’s not recruitable.

Contrast, again, Leonie. Her support chain with the player character is hot garbage, but she plowed through most of the game as a mainstay of my team and made it to Bow Knight first out of anyone.

Bernadetta and Ashe as Bow Knights don’t even come close to being as durable as she is, except for Ashe’s absolutely bananas Resistance. 29?! WHY?!

And Ferdinand is also awesome. His only real weak point is Resistance, but he doesn’t need it. He dodge-tanks everything, is faster than Leonie, and has two Saints’ relics he unknowingly stole from Seteth.

He still talks in MLA format, though.

I started putting off recruiting people so I wouldn’t have to level-grind them up to par with the rest of my team.

But if these people wanna join, of course I’m saying yes.

Lord Lonato’s rebellion and Miklan yoinking the Lance of Ruin feel way less relevant on a Golden Deer playthrough than on a Blue Lions one. None of the Herd really know who the hell these people are.

I say that despite having already recruited Sylvain for this playthrough and deploying him in the relevant level. He wasn’t treated as there by the game’s preamble cutscenes.

At least the Holy Mausoleum stuff feels more...handled? Claude actually asks questions about rebellion and about the “assassination plot,” where Dimitri didn’t really.

OKAY SO there’s this whole plot thing where Flayn goes missing for a month. With the Blue Lions, this is handled like a manhunt. Dimitri’s seriousness about the issue rubs off on everyone except Sylvain, and Felix actually correctly identifies the culprit almost instantly. He doesn’t know he’s done it, though, because basically everyone is just throwing out accusations. Manuela is the real MVP.

CONTRAST THE DEER. The very first meeting reads like a Scooby Doo episode, when they’re piling up clues and throwing out suggestions like the gang of goofball teenagers they are. Claude’s got this group running like Persona 4′s Investigation Team. None of them are jaded or frantic, they’re just doing this.

Why did Rhea entrust the investigation to a herd of teenagers.

Anyway, the rest proceeds as usual.

I don’t know why the game tries to drop the same set of hints for each route. “OoooowoooooOOOOoooo, your house leader might be the FLAME EMPEROR.”

The Flame Emperor wears heels. And is still too short to be either Claude or Dimitri. Especially Dimitri. Who the fuck let this kid get so tall.

The only real result of all this bullshit is that my wyvern-riding sniper of doom is not available during the first map where Yuri personally beat the Death Knight into the ground.

Which, by the by, was hilariously cathartic.

It doesn’t exactly matter, since the only unit who can make real use of the Dark Mage and Dark Bishop classes is unrecruitable, but bragging rights.

Remire Village’s drama is about as bad while playing as the Golden Deer. One of the foreshadowing cutscenes, though is excellent:

Claude actually finds a book that depicts The Immaculate One before its debut, only to have it confiscated by Seteth and learn that it wasn’t a library book at all; it belonged to “Tomas.” Like, all of his suspicions--which he shares with the player--start lining up. Censorship! Monsters! Sword of the Creator! What the hell is going on here??

Dimitri’s version of the cutscene involves him being caught investigating Lord Arundel by the player and Sothis. Which--since his route doesn’t meaningfully deal with the Morlocks faction aside from steamrolling them as incidental opponents--seems kinda useless.

Kicked the Death Knight into submission again out of spite.

Sylvain was useful! Mostly because I had him sit there and distract the incidentals while Claude and Lysithea cleaned house, but still!

Claude is the only lord character who seems to understand that the transforming Morlock faction probably needs to be taken more seriously. For the remainder of Part One, no one does so.

Rhea you’ve got some ‘splainin to do.

Marianne’s my team’s dancer this time. She’s a sweetheart. She seemed happy to be asked and to pursue the lessons, and being able to use Physic is a good trait in someone who’s nearly always going to be waaaaay behind the rest of the group.

Dad-stabbing happened.

Again.

Boop boop Solon’s dead.

Again.

Dear diary: I learned the definition of irony and set the Flame Emperor on fire.

I kid.

But Claude took her out in one completely overpowered shot, because crits are a thing, Flame Emperor class skills don’t reduce damage enough to survive it, and his Dex stat is through the fucking roof. And he was on a wyvern at the time because fuck it, why not.

Claude’s reaction to all of this is a minor letdown compared to the fully-rendered cutscene in the last route.

This would become something of a trend--taking out OP bosses with unexpected critical hits.

I didn’t expect to like Lorenz and now I do. How.

This is hilarious simply because he seems to be the only character that Mercedes hates. What the fuck, man.

Once again, Edelgard invades! Once again, I drop someone unexpected on her head!

Not really. It was Yuri.

Yuri does the timeskip shuffle and we’ll see everyone again after a nap.

FIVE YEARS LATER.

Aw, Claude was waiting for Yuri to show up. Adorable.

The post-meetup fight is actually harder than it was in the BL route, despite excessive level-grinding. This is due to three factors:

Claude is automatically on a wyvern, meaning that he has inherent class vulnerability to archers on a map with at least five of them. And less range than they did, for some fucking reason.

Lorenz and Ignatz started out on the same corner of the map and both of them are shitty offensive units who could barely kill a mage between them. (Neither of Ignatz’s offensive stats cracked 20 for another thirteen levels.)

I don’t have Ashe and his personal skill Locktouch, and nobody started with a Chest Key or Door Key, which meant I had to keep various enemies alive long enough to steal all of their stuff. And the enemy item drops came up one short of the number of chests on the map. I want my stuff, dammit.

LET’S MAKE A SCENE.

Randolph, as a boss in Verdant Wind, did not get any better at figuring out when he’s outmatched. Therefore, I killed him with Raphael again.

At least he straight-up died this time.

Claude didn’t even get to set the damn place on fire.

Ingrid is turning out to be way better of a unit this time than she was last time. She’s a little slower, but a lot stronger.

FELIX, WHERE THE FUCK WAS ALL THIS STRENGTH HIDING LAST TIME. YOU’RE TEN POINTS AHEAD OF THE GUY WHO HAS STORY-BASED SUPER STRENGTH.

AND SPEED.

Iiiiiiiiit’s JUDITH!

She only shows up on one map in the entire Azure Moon route, and that’s a damn shame. She’s so cool in Verdant Wind.

A lord-class character who isn’t also a Lord! WOO!

Also her spies are better than anybody’s apparently.

I am choosing to believe that because Ingrid’s family is related to Judith’s, her badassery in this route is the direct result of meeting her distant cousin and absorbing badass radiation.

There’s something funny about having to pull one over on Lorenz’s dad to get anything done. The Great Bridge falls not to power, but Claude baiting Count Gloucester’s entire army to be somewhere else. (FEAR THE DEER.)

As a result, Ladislava dies alone. (As opposed to taking Ferdinand with her due to plot shenanigans.)

Lysithea and Ferdinand’s paralogue was really quite sad, for all that the only named guy who died was deeply unsympathetic. Ferdinand’s dad was an asshole, but he wasn’t the asshole for this particular scenario, and now both of his parents are gone. :(

Felix...hasn’t heard from his dad in a while. Worrying.

Oh, and Caspar’s uncle is still dead, in case we were keeping track of that.

Dorothea’s happier with Ferdinand alive. She did an impression of the Gatekeeper. :3

Gronder Field! FUCK.

I delayed playing this chapter for two solid days because I already knew what was gonna happen. Specifically: Edelgard gets injured and evacuated, and Dimitri drops of exhaustion just in time to get run through like ten times by the Emperor’s rearguard.

I eventually got my shit together enough to do the thing.

Marianne, Raphael, and Ferdinand went after the Kingdom army first. Leonie and Felix hung back and then reinforced them after taking out the archer on the central hill.

Claude killed everyone in the center of the map, which meant Edelgard set the entire hill on fire and if Bernadetta had not been recruited she would’ve burned to death there on the spot.

Ahem.

I sent Yuri to clear the entire left side of the map by herself.

She succeeded.

Raphael KO’d Dimitri with a luck Gauntlet crit, got blasted down to half health by a Warlock, then plunked ineffectually at Dedue until Marianne used her Levin Sword to sort him out.

Ferdinand killed everyone else on that side of the map.

Claude once again got the kill on Edelgard with a lucky crit, after Yuri had killed everyone else (up to and including the Demonic Beasts) single-handedly.

And then the plot moved on. Hilda’s account of Dimitri’s death was awful, Dedue’s reaction was worse, and off we go to punch Edelgard’s teeth in.

Again.

Annette’s dad is probably dead now.

Felix’s, too.

(I THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH THE DAD-STABBING.)

FOOOOOORT MERCEUS.

No matter how many times I think about it, Claude’s Almyran army reinforcements only make so much sense. How the hell and fuck did he manage to sneak an entire foreign army across a whole country to help with one battle?

But hey, they’re here, and Claude almost admitted the reason why he could do that. And the arrow greeting between him and Nader was cool.

(Spoiler: On top of being the Alliance’s leader, he’s also the crown prince of Almyra!)

The Death Knight had the gall to run from my army.

Yuri punched his ticket for the third time, which was not the charm.

And then Fort Merceus took an intercontinental ballistic missile and suddenly defeating the fort’s garrison feels a lot less triumphant.

Spot the miscolored eyes in this cutscene!

Welp. Fuck it, we’re off to Enbarr. Time to also punch Hubert this time! What a change of pace.

Eyyy, it’s the Enbarr map. I totally forgot to bring Seteth and Flayn along to check out the opera house, despite a whole bunch of characters talking about how they totally wanted to check that place out at some point. No room for deadweights in a map that has SO MANY ARCHERS.

Managed to get the special dialogue between Ferdinand and Hubert, and now I’m sad again.

Killed Hubert with Claude.

And because this is a two-part map, we immediately run off to chase down Edelgard. Due to the player army not doing a really weird 180 in the middle of the plot to kick Cornelia out of Fhirdiad, she didn’t have time to turn into a giant demonic thing! She just has WAY TOO MANY MAGES.

Strategy: Forget what Door Keys are, split the team by Avoid rating, and go to town.

Claude nearly died thanks to a critical mass of Gremories and Mortal Savants (and still, what the fuck is that name), but Dedue-as-guest-character didn’t, so I count that as a win! His defense was so high that the Giant Demonic Beast couldn’t even scratch him.

Claude, Petra, and Ingrid all having Alert Stance as a skill means dodge-tanking is hilariously easy.

Also, Ingrid was supposed to just take a chunk out of Edelgard’s HP bar for the final assault and ended up crit-killing her on the first attack. With a bog-standard silver lance.

Weird as the situation turned out, I guess that means one of Dimitri’s friends really did avenge him after saying they would. Even if Dedue was the only one who had a special cutscene about it.

We rescued Rhea! And the characters being happy about it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. I want answers, same as Claude, and being forced to RP Yuri being oh so worried about Rhea’s safety felt incredibly disingenuous.

Claude actually yells at her over the “...” she seems to think is an explanation. THE TIME FOR SECRETS IS PAST.

WHY DID ALL THIS SHIT HAPPEN.

WE’VE BEEN AT WAR FOR FIVE YEARS.

A WHOLE BUNCH OF PEOPLE DIED HORRIBLY FOR BASICALLY NOTHING.

Incidentally, this is why I didn’t end up playing Edelgard’s route as planned. Her logic for kicking two other sovereign countries in the balls felt incredibly self-centered.

At least Catherine’s happy. Same with Alois and the rest of the Church crew.

They are soon going to be not as happy.

I’m filling out the ENTIRE support log before endgame. I have absolutely no idea what characters are going to end up together as a direct result.

The last conversation? Seteth and Manuela’s A+ support!

Because so many of the support conversations are romantic at A/A+ level, I guess we’ve managed to turn this ragtag army into a polyarmory.

Oh boy, Thales sure is a sore loser.

I say, as though I didn’t kill EVERYONE he knew over the course of an hour and also split his skull open under Seteth’s axe. His racism would have keeled his ass over before death set in.

That sure is a ICBM.

GOD DAMMIT RHEA, THERE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A Q&A SESSION AFTER THIS.

WHY DOES EVERYONE WHOSE JOB IS EXPOSITION UP AND DIE.

Meanwhile: THE UBER-DEAD PEOPLE.

Claude, your route is batshit. What is this genre anymore?!

I wanna point out that, despite seeing Rhea/Seiros do the dragon thing, the player character never told Claude what the fuck that was about. I feel like one of the first things I would have done after the class reunion would be going, “By the by, did anyone else notice the fucking dragon?!” WHO IS ALSO THE POPE???

Bah.

ANYWAY. Looooong-overdue exposition time!

I notice that Rhea didn’t out Seteth or Flayn, which was nice of her.

Claude, she can turn into a fucking dragon. I don’t think immortality is that far from being plausible.

GOD DAMMIT NEMESIS, CAN YOU FUCK OFF FOR TEN MORE MINUTES.

Uuuuuuugh fine, fuck everything, I’m putting your head on a pike.

CLAUDE, THE SWORD OF THE CREATOR LOOKS LIKE A SPINE.

OF COURSE IT’S MADE OF BONES. A BUNCH OF THE HEROES’ RELICS MOVE ON THEIR OWN!

The frantic music is not helping.

Time to kill a bandit king.

“My flabber is completely gasted by now.” Okay, that made me laugh.

Nemesis’s boss mechanic is pretty neat. To kill him at all, you need to kill all of the minibosses in the level and take down his friendship-based-plot-armor.

Or it would be, if I didn’t already make a habit of steamrolling everyone else on the field before tackling the boss at the end.

CUTSCENE.

Cutscene lesson: “Fuck honor duels.” It’s time for CHAIN SWORD LIMBO.

Claude, your bow shoots LASERS. SINCE WHEN.

Also getting kicked across the field by a dude twice his size didn’t seem to actually affect his mood much.

Awww, Yuri smiles now. Adorable. :D

AND THAT’S A WRAP.

Pairings: Yuri/Sothis (mostly to get them out of the way and see what everyone else would do), Claude/Petra, Raphael/Marianne, Catherine/Shamir, Lorenz/Mercedes, Ashe/Annette, Felix/Sylvain (bad end; the former straight up disappears), Seteth & Flayn wander off, Manuela/Dorothea, Lysithea/Linhardt (again), Leonie/Ignatz, Ferdinand/Bernadetta, Caspar/Hilda, and a couple of people are alone. Cyril gets to actually be a student after the story’s done, though!

Whew, that was fun. Gonna mix up the pairs a bit next time I play through the endgame and see what happens.

#fire emblem three houses #Lang plays Fire Emblem: Three Houses #Lang Plays #spoilers #long post #fire emblem

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the-poutine-routine · 6 years

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Hey hey! (Sorry getting too familiar!) It's coach-change anon. I saw your Valse Triste chronicles, and if I may beg your indulgence, I would like to see you take on an exhibition program (Jack & Diane...Jack & Diane...Jack & Diane... :p)

Hello hello hello!

Welp, your wish is my command! I guess I will go ramble on for a bit about an exhibition program.... I’m thinking... ummm... just totally randomly here... maybe Jack and Diane would be a good one??? ;)

Alrighty so I’m not going to get too technical with this because it doesn’t actually have required elements and all that jazz. So that’s great for me, but also probably kind of sucks for you because this is going to have no organization whatsoever... sorry.

mmmmm Jack and Diane... good shit. Content-wise, the main thing I noticed was how great of a job the choreography does of making use of “negative space”. If you think about it, the song more or less is doing the same thing the entire time. There is no change of theme or tempo, and the backing instrumentals are pretty much constant (except for the little bit about the bible belt saving your soul). In short, there’s always something happening in the music. This is balanced really well with there not always being something happening in Tessa and Scott’s skating. Besides the lifts, twizzles, and footwork, a huge chunk of the program is just our favorite idiots skating toward each other and looking into each others’ eyes.

ALSO, that first lift? The one where she just kind of slides down him? That one? The one that barely even qualifies as lift? Yeah that one’s really good, I like it a lot. I’m not even entirely sure why, it’s just the simplicity of him just holding her there while the music goes silent for a moment... there’s sort of this anticipation, almost a build-up to those first few guitar chords where you know you’re about to see something really good.

So backtracking a bit to the part about them just skating and looking into each others’ eyes... Maybe the most interesting thought I had when I was watching Jack and Diane so it was fresh in my mind for this response was how interesting this program is given the timing in their career. It was sort of this weird in between period where people were still somewhat looking at them as cute kids who are best friends and love ice dancing together, but also a time when people maybe started thinking there was perhaps potential for a wee bit more than friendship going on there.

This theme was reflected really well in each the choreography, their performance, and not necessarily the lyrics but more the feel or mood of the music choice. So looking at this more specifically he choreographed high-fives and cheek kisses are something very innocent, something that could totally be going on between a couple o’ platonic besties. Meanwhile, the way in which she’s literally draped over him in some of the lifts and- more importantly- the intense stares: how they never stop gazing into each others’ eyes when given the opportunity suggests something perhaps a little less innocent and platonic.

This is also super interesting because it means that this same program would work for any given time frame in Tessa and Scott’s career. They could have done it a few years earlier, and barely anyone would have blinked and eye or said it was too mature for them. Conversely, if it were to be brought back now, I don’t think the um... passion... that would indubitably come with the lovely post-comeback vm would do anything to tarnish the theme, storyline, or significance of the program.

To elaborate a bit more on the music: Jack and Diane is a very... well... American song. It talks about growing up in the heartland, the freedom of having a car, and- a little less blissfully- how even when life gets to be kind of shit, you just have to keep plowing through because we’re Americans and that’s what we do! (in theory of course, not in reality, but ya know, this is John Mellencamp talking not me...) However, despite the actual plot of the song being intended to center around American themes and values, the story itself is something very relatable that I would assume people from all over the world can fell connected to. A couple of kids growing up and falling in love. Simple as that.

I guess what I’m really trying to say here is that this program is just another prime example of how Tessa and Scott really are the people’s skaters. They can really take any music from any time period, from any country, with any message and mold it into something that speaks to the audience on a completely personal and comprehensible level. Even though I may just be an American kid growing up kind far away from the heartland, watching Jack and Diane just makes me feel like all of us- the entire audience and Tessa and Scott themselves- really are a bunch of kids thrown into life together even long after the thrill of livin’ is gone. (I really hate myself for writing that but I don’t have a better way to end this so it’s what I’m going with)

Welp... tried to end that one on a super moving note, but I failed miserably and just sounded like an idiot but what else is new?

Anywho, thank you so much coach-change anon! It was kind of refreshing to go a bit in depth into a program not used for competition! No need to apologize fr having lots of interesting questions and prompts. It’s actually a huge compliment that you believe that we’re actually in love think of me as a half decent source for vm info!

As always, I apologize for my wordiness and the lack of organization of this whole darn rant... yikes... ok bye :)

#Anonymous #ask #anon #Jack and Diane #Tessa and Scott #rants and stuff #analyses #sorry for wasting space on your dash!#and sorry for not adding a break!

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