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cupidkenji · 1 year ago

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killshot, baby

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM

As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises.

You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly.

“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.

“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint.

“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.

Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”

“If?”

You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.”

“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.

–

The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up.

“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”

“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”

“Is this about an unsub?”

“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.

“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”

“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new.

She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.

“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.

“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”

“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick.

“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”

“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.

–

The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.

“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.

“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”

That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you.

“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up.

“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision.

–

The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?

Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.

–

The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.

“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.

“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him.

You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”

He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”

“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”

He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”

Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”

He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”

You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”

–

The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day.

You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.

“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.

“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up.

You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it.

“I can watch him.”

Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.

You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”

He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you.

“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.

–

Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day.

“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?

Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.”

He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”

–

You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless.

You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from.

Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back.

Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.

Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.

“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.

You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.”

He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”

“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless.

“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”

You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”

Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.

He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”

“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”

You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.”

Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.

–

That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.

He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it.

A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.

“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks.

“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”

“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.

“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”

Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”

“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in.

In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.

“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.

–

The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine.

The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal.

“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”

He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.

Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”

He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day.

“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you.

“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.

He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”

“White.”

He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”

He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.”

You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”

He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”

You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.

He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”

You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”

That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”

He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”

Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”

Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.

“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.

Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.

–

You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?

The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure.

You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?”

He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.

You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.”

The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”

You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself. You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road.

“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much.

“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”

Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.

“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”

“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm.

“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”

“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”

“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”

Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.

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couch-potato28 · 3 months ago

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Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽️

VERSION IX.

(a/n: RAAAH 🔥 woke up to a congratulatory message for 1000 likes, you guys are amazing!! sending lots of love, I’m extremely grateful and thank you for the support ❤️)

Warning-none

wc: 1k

ALSO: @ttheggrimrreaper ❣️ (if you wanna join the taglist lemme know)

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…

…5, Yukimiya Kenyu.”

As soon as his name was announced, a group of girls squealed from excitement, immediately turning to you with curiosity perhaps jealousy in their eyes.

“Lucky!”

“Oh my gosh, if I knew he was here I would have trained harder!”

“Can you get me a signature, please?”

You were bombed with questions left and right, the room shrinking to the size of a football with barely enough space to breathe. Before you could suffocate, Ego’s voice harshly reminded everyone to back off, letting you make your way to Anri.

“I almost died for you Yukimiya”

Imagine being the 1v1 emperor, Yukimiya Kenyu’s manager.

——————

Yukimiya Kenyu whose tall frame, paired with glasses framing his face, made him easily recognizable among the others. You caught him in a rather intense 1 on 1 match—quickly recalling what you read from his profile sheet—convinced that he’s gonna win the duel. Patiently waiting for the match to finish, you then approached him with a smile, handing him his water bottle before introducing yourself to the boy. As expected, he returned the polite smile, shaking your hand while asking some questions. Talking with him made you realize, no wonder everyone was all over him, because damn was he handsome.

——————

•Yukimiya, who you form a strictly professional relationship with, sometimes curious about what he thinks of you. He’s just so polite to the point it’s almost scary, and not once has he offended you in any way. Super nice, but you can tell there’s this certain wall between the two of you.

•He’s easy to deal with, never complaining, always following instructions to the core and he’s really capable on his own as well. You notice how he likes to do things alone most of the time—dealing with exhaustion, injuries, and personal problems without discussing them with you.

•Very mature and loves to handle his own business, but after a certain incident where you prove yourself to be more than just an assigned manager, he lets you in his inner circle. No more distance between you and him—just his pure, unfiltered self.

•FINALLY, someone who shows up on time for events, matches etc. without needing a thousand reminders. Disciplined during practice and training, all while carefully listening to your guidance.

•Yukimiya, who will do some extra training, if he feels like it but you will have to practically force him to rest, otherwise he’s gonna overwork. Likes to help you with paperwork too, turning it into a fun bonding time.

•Always notices if you’re having a bad day and will gently ask how you are, or instruct you to go back to bed, saying he can manage himself for a day. Perfect at listening to you vent, and gives the best solutions for any problem.

•Yukimiya doesn’t tease you a lot since he’s such a gentleman, instead he will secretly trash talk and gossip to you. Also, he’s always silently judging someone with the nastiest side eyes known to mankind. (second to Chigiri) LOVES to roll his eyes as well.

•He doesn’t mention his job as a model, but due to his teammates’ teasing, he tells you some snippets of how they scouted him etc. At the same time you tell him about the little incident during the announcements, making him laugh and a glint of pride shines in his eyes.

——————

AFTER THE U20 MATCH…

•Yukimiya becomes more open to others, cooperating during matches and discussions. He also pays more attention to you during analysis sessions and pre-match talks, asking even more questions than before.

•You also have to change some things in his diet that could make a slight improvement in his vision, as well as ensuring he goes for monthly checkups, and searches for treatments on the Internet.

•He appreciates your support silently. Not really the emotional type, but when you’re sitting on a bench waiting for him to finish—it means a lot. Remembers your habits, and never fails to look out for you.

•Yukimiya is EXTREMELY photogenic since he’s a model. Super polite with interviewers and always gives clear answers. Really sweet to his fans as well, they swoon every time they see him. To your surprise, they also compliment how cute his manager is, some people even making ship edits about the two of you.

•Definition of unbothered in everyday life. Did he forget his own water bottle? Karasu’s will do. Oops, was this seat supposed to be Isagi’s? Guess he’ll have to sit somewhere else. You are scolding him? “Yes, yes manager-san.” He definitely DID NOT listen and was instead, counting how many eyelashes you have.

•You can’t read his emotions off of his face. He has this gentleman image that never seems to leave even if he is angry. Not towards you tho, it’s for his teammates—and the extremely pushy and rude paparazzi. It’s chilling how he smiles when he’s happy AND when he’s mad. You can hardly tell the difference.

•Yukimiya, who will drop random pick up lines out of nowhere without even realizing it—surprised every time when you’re flustered, thinking it’s the hot weather. (could be winter doesn’t matter)

•He will also unconsciously (or not) do the most boyfriend coded things ever like—looking over your shoulder with his face dangerously close to yours, or moving you by the waist with a “can you move a bit to the left” while his hands are on your sides.

•Big anime fan, but refuses to talk about it unless you bring it up first. After that he turns into a total fanboy, telling you some episodes by heart and he’s just so nerdy, it makes you smile.

•Nobody suspects him, but he has some UNHINGED photos of the boys on his phone. Otoya with a double chin? Check. Nagi drooling on his own pillow? Check. Bachira FULLY naked? Check, and don’t ask him how he got it.

•Yukimiya is the ideal player to get with his attentive nature, all while being perfectly media trained. Thanks to his skills, you don’t have to suffer that much, making your life stressful-free. That is until his very first scandal pops up and the topic is none other than—you and him being involved in a RELATIONSHIP?

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x manager au #blue lock u20 #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #yukimiya kenyu #kenyu yukimiya x reader #yukimiya x reader #bllk yukimiya #blue lock yukimiya #bastard munchen

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theonlyonesora · 2 months ago

Text

The Quiet Equation

Toto Wolff x You

The leaves had just begun to change—burnt orange and brittle gold curling at the edges of Harvard Yard—when he walked into your life like an equation that didn’t balance.

You were seated in the third row of Maxwell 202, your laptop open, fingers idly tracing the rim of your coffee cup. It was your first lecture of the semester, an advanced seminar on sports business leadership, a course you’d only taken because you craved something challenging. Something unfamiliar.

You didn’t expect him.

Toto Wolff.

He entered the room not with fanfare but gravity—like a planet arriving into orbit, unannounced yet impossible to ignore. Six foot five, dressed in a charcoal cashmere sweater and slacks that looked tailor-made for his long, deliberate strides. His accent curled around his words like silk-wrapped steel. Every student in the lecture hall straightened unconsciously. A few whispered. A few stared.

But he didn’t scan the room for admiration. No, he scanned for curiosity. For sharpness. For minds worth his time.

And when his gaze landed on you, it stayed there half a second too long.

You looked away first. You always did.

You weren’t used to being noticed.

At 27, you’d already earned your master’s in engineering, and now you were folding into a second program focused on organizational strategy. Most people thought you were a scholarship kid who studied too hard. Maybe you were. You liked silence, liked order, liked the click of logic falling into place. You liked data because it never lied.

But now, data had a voice, and it came in the form of a man twice your age with sharp eyes and a voice like dark chocolate and gravel.

And then came the email.

Subject: Extra Credit Assignment—Mercedes-AMG F1 Guest Lectures You were one of three students selected. Three.

To assist Mr. Wolff during his time as a guest lecturer.

The first time he said your name, it was late afternoon. The sun had begun to dip behind the old stone buildings, casting the seminar room in an amber glow. You had just finished walking him through an analysis of cross-market brand loyalty between Formula One and other global sports franchises.

“Brilliant,” he said, like the word meant something ancient and reverent. “But you already knew that.”

You swallowed. “It’s just data.”

Toto tilted his head, studying you. “No. It’s the way you see it that matters. You find meaning in numbers the way others find it in poetry.”

You flushed. You hated that. He was too perceptive. Too calm. You liked your walls. He was already walking through them like they weren’t even there.

Over the weeks, something began to shift.

He stayed after class longer. Asked you questions no one else would dare ask—about why you never raised your hand, about how you learned to think the way you did. About what you were really afraid of.

He listened when you spoke, not just with attention—but with intention. As if every sentence from you deserved space to unfold.

And you?

You began to crave it. That space. That steady, quiet pull of him. The way he stood too close without ever touching you. The way he would call your name lowly in passing—never inappropriate, never unprofessional, but still enough to echo in your stomach long after he left the room.

There was an age difference, of course. Twenty-four years. But it didn’t feel like that.

It felt like… depth. Like gravity finding gravity.

One night, well past midnight, you stayed behind after a guest seminar to help him with a data model. The others had left. The building was quiet, shadows climbing the bookshelves. The glow from his laptop cast him in silver light, jaw tense, brow furrowed as he reviewed your notes.

“You’ve done this before,” he said softly. “Built something and never taken credit.”

You looked at him. “What makes you think that?”

“Because you remind me of myself. At your age.” He paused. “Hungry. Brilliant. Lonely.”

That word landed like a pebble in still water.

You didn’t respond right away. Then, quietly: “I don’t mind being alone.”

“No,” he said, watching you. “But maybe you’d like someone who understands it.”

You turned your head to meet his eyes—and the room, the night, the world—it all shifted. Everything suspended.

His hand didn’t move first. Yours did.

And when his fingers closed around yours, it wasn’t the beginning of anything reckless.

It was the beginning of something inevitable.

You never told anyone.

Harvard whispered, as universities always do. But there were no scandals. No rumors. Just the quiet glances exchanged in the corners of classrooms, the subtle shift in your breath when he entered a room.

And on the last day of term, he handed you a folded note with only two lines written in his precise, deliberate hand.

You are the most elegant mind I’ve ever met. Come to Brackley this summer. We have work to do.

You stared at the signature beneath it.

Toto.

Not Mr. Wolff. Not Professor.

Just Toto.

And for once in your carefully structured life, you didn’t hesitate. You were already packed.

Maybe part 2 ?

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kiame-sama · 6 months ago

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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 22

(Sebek's fur is sticky and somewhat uncomfortable to touch for very long. This is because- though it looks like fur- it is actually very thin and fine crocodilian scales that shed like fur. His 'fur' feels like twine mixed with sherpa. He does shed a LOT but he is double-coated and quickly becomes compacted. He needs to be brushed at least twice a week to keep it looking good. Lilia or Silver usually brush him, but he cries in joy when Malleus brushes him.)

Warnings; Yandere, multiple yanderes, platonic intentioned yanderes, romantic intentioned yanderes, yandere vs yandere, yandere teams, social media team vs guard team vs outsiders team, Lions can't purr but magic lions can purr, loose yandere alliances, social grooming behavior, foreshadowing for those text analysis savvy folks, cooking, a new group of yanderes have entered the chat, Grim is a little brat to everyone except his Human, Hellcat, Gnoll, Werewolf, Nemean Lion, mention of Dragon, Raiju, Cervitaur, and Vampire Bat, Harpies galore, Water Nymph, Drider, Merman, Bakeneko,

~~~~~~~~

Grim purred sleepily as he lay across your shoulder, watching you cook away and marveling at the warm smells of food. Like the many times you had cooked prior, you knew there would be many following their noses to the kitchen area of the dorm and you figured Ruggie was busy keeping guard. If there was one thing that was certain no matter where you were, it was the fact that Ruggie would be nearby any time you were making food.

Though a few days had passed, you had finally felt like you were getting accustomed to the behavior of the dorm and their enigma of a Dormleader. The entire dorm acted like one big pride of lions despite being made up of many different species. It was likely due to the fact that Leona was the leader of their group, so they adhered to the social customs of their leader. Luckily for you, it was part of the Lion's social customs that females and Cubs- as he seemed to affectionately call Grim- were regarded to be a rank above most males of the group.

At first you had felt a certain animosity from the group, now it felt like you were some kind of precious pet put on a pedestal to be admired but never touched. No, the only three who were allowed near you or Grim were the three assigned to guard you. Leona was a particularly strong enforcer of this expectation and even ran off several of his own dorm members for getting too curious about you or the kit.

You felt a bit more at peace with Jack, but there was still a strong stress that ate away at your comfort any time the Wolf was nearby. Sometimes you could stand to be almost brushing against his fur with how close you let him get, other times you startled when you saw him enter a room. Jack was quite patient despite your mixture of warm and cold attitudes towards him and always seemed to take it in stride. At least his presence seemed to somewhat be helping you come to terms with what had happened.

Ruggie was thrilled to be at your side any time he had the chance, especially whenever you were cooking something. For your morning and evening meals, Ruggie had always been a constant and had even become part of your schedule. Honestly, it would have felt wrong to be at any other dorm because then Ruggie wouldn't be able to whine and cackle for food at meal times.

Beyond the two, the Lion King himself had been quite the persistent presence in spite of his usual refusal to attend classes. He didn't try to keep you from classes again following the rough reprimand from the lovely Selkie, but he did start showing up to any of his classes that overlapped with your own. Leona had been akin to a frightening beast that stood just behind you, making most run away before they even worked up the courage to approach you.

Apparently it had been a good call to stay in the dorm of the Lion, as Ramshackle had more than a few unwelcome visitors in the time you had been away. Idia ensured to tell you about every poacher or thief that tried to get in- always angrily chastising the 'failing protection ward' around the school- and how they were subsequently given a rather shocking reminder that you were not an easy prize to obtain. Hearing about it really didn't offer you much comfort, but it seemed to give Idia some pride to know these interlopers were repelled by his inventions.

You had not seen hide nor hair of Malleus yet you always felt like you could hear the faint sound of thunder in the distance. Even when you thought you were alone, it was as if somewhere in the back of your mind you felt like you were being watched. Silver had checked in many times in the past few days and never seemed convinced when you told him you were alright. Lilia also seemed to seek you out between classes and was far clingier than he had been before.

"Hey, Mama?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"I like it here and all... But I miss home."

You paused at the almost sad tone Grim had as he looked up at you with those large blue eyes of his. He had seemed to be getting along with everyone in the dorm- or they all at least tolerated the kit- but his words concerned you.

"Do you miss Ramshackle or are the students here not being nice to you?"

"Lion-a-guy makes sure they're all nice to me, but I still wanna go home. The beds here aren't all big and soft like the nest. Lion-a-guy is warm, but he isn't like cuddling Antlers or Bat-wings. I kinda even miss Loud-Dog."

You almost snorted at the names the kit had given the other Hoard members, knowing he wasn't the best at remembering names. That or he truly didn't care enough to learn their names. Either way, the kit's casual naming of the group was rather adorable and straightforward.

"Even Sebek? Seems like you're feeling homesick."

"Home-sick?"

"It's where the newness of somewhere wears off and you get tired of being somewhere other than home. You want to go back home enough that it feels like a chore to be anywhere else."

"Yeah! Like that! I miss Tsuno too. He always made sure you were safe. I guess Lion-a-guy does that now, but Tsuno does it better. Even Flames, Sad-Guy, and Fire-ball aren't too bad."

It took a moment to figure out who the last three were, but once you recalled Papa Hades and the Ignihyde dorm leaders, it wasn't too hard to figure out who was who. Naturally, you held Grim's opinions on the others in high regard and it was nice to get a gauge on his views of them.

"What do you think about Ruggie and Jack?"

"Chuckles is funny! He always looks so silly with his tummy up in the air after he eats, but I don't like that he wakes us all up for that dumb training. ... I don't know about Fluffy-tail. I don't think I like the wolves, Mama."

"Yeah. I'm trying to relax around Jack too. You have to remember, he isn't like those other Wolves. He hasn't chased us or tried to hurt us, but I get it. It's hard to just forget what happened, especially so soon after."

Grim frowned at this, his ears drooping down and he rest his chin on your shoulder. It had occurred to you shortly after your injury that Grim was not going to be okay and would need help to handle what happened. Here was this little kit who had been trying to survive alone for his entire early life. He only recently has learned the comforts of a home, a consistently full stomach, and protection. Naturally he would be deeply rattled by anything that threatened the comforts of his home. You were one of those comforts.

"Grim, Honey, I think we need to have a talk with everyone about that day."

"But... it hurts."

"I know. But it also hurts me to know you saw everything that happened. I wasn't even awake for what happened when Tsuno found us. These kinds of things... They hurt. They hurt a lot to talk about, but it helps the hurt feel less painful when we face it. But if we don't talk about them, they become like injuries that are infected and hurt even more."

"I don't like thinking about it..."

"I don't either, but if we never address what hurts or why it hurts, we can never really heal from that injury."

Grim looked from you, to the stubby and ripped up wings on his back. The torn limbs stretched somewhat before he pulled them tight against his side.

"Like my wings?"

"Sort of. Your wings were hurt beyond what your body can fix. Papa Hades said he could possibly fix your wings, so it will take outside help to heal them. It might take outside help to heal the hurt, but we need to talk about it first to see what it is we need to heal."

Grim nodded, gently pressing his forehead into your chin as he began to purr again. You were quick to reciprocate that affection to the little kit that snuggled closer to your neck. A thought briefly crossed your mind as to what you would do if Grim couldn't go with you to your true home and your heart hurt at the thought of leaving the small kit behind. If it truly came down to it, you didn't know if it was worth abandoning the kit to go back to your true home.

"How about we finish up breakfast and then we can see about chatting with the others, okay?"

"Okay, Mama!"

~•§•~

You looked out at the group of Savanaclaw students practicing for the Spell Drive. You still struggled to grasp the rules of this seemingly odd game, but Leona only seemed invigorated by your presence. Apparently the seven chosen to play- Ruggie, Leona, and Jack included- had been benefitting greatly from the meals you cooked them. Even the four students you didn't know well seemed to be energized and strengthened by the meals you created.

Every time Leona scored or managed to block the unfortunate students selected for the opposite team, he would turn to you with a cocky grin. It almost seemed like Leona was showing off just for your sake. Truthfully, it bothered him more than he would admit to see you weren't looking up the many times he had glanced at you.

You were busy texting several of the staff members to run your idea by them, hoping they could provide more insight into the situation. Divus was of the mind that you and Grim both needed to share what happened to help yourselves move past it, but he insisted it was a staff only matter. Trein was of the mind that the Housewardens and the Vice-Housewardens should be included in these talks as they would have to be the ones to help comfort you on particularly bad days.

"You gonna look at your phone all morning, Mousey?"

A low growl rumbled from beside you and you almost jumped, not noticing the Lion's approach before he was standing right next to you. Your obvious lack of awareness displeased the proud Lion, as he was of the belief that you should be watching the team soundly beat the competition. Still, he was willing to let you explain your actions before growling out his frustrations.

"I'm talking to the staff, Leona."

"About what?"

"About what happened that day."

This made Leona's ears angle back, displeased by his own memories. He had seen blood plenty of times before and had been on the hunting side prior. Still, seeing your life fading away so quickly and how vivid the blood looked after your attack, it was not a pleasant memory for the Lion.

"... What about it?"

"Grim and I... We aren't okay. Sure, my leg has healed quickly thanks to Professor Divus, but I don't think either of us are still actually okay with what happened. Hell, I don't even like thinking of it, most days. Jack has been a great help, but I just... It's hard to not see and hear those Wolves when he is around. I still don't think it's fair to him to have to do all of this, but I do think Grim and I need more than just exposure therapy."

Leona sighed, sitting next to you as you pet the torn up ears of the Hellcat. He knew you weren't completely comfortable and he had seen the negative reaction your Cub had to any mention of what happened that day. Even now, the little Cub was shaking and pressing close to your stomach, curled up tightly in your lap.

"Your physical wounds have healed, but the mental wounds still exist."

"Yes... It feels like I'm always being hunted... Watched... I feel so worried about things, even when I know I'm safe."

Leona stayed silent for a moment before you felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you and Grim onto his lap where he held the both of you gently in his arms. It was an oddly comforting feeling to have the Lion cuddle you in such a way. Sure, he had been much more snuggly in the past few days since you entered his dorm, but this somehow felt different.

A deep almost growling purr came from the Lion as he held you and Grim securely in his arms, comforting you and attempting to soothe you. As you relaxed in his arms, the large Lion nuzzled your cheek and hummed. Soon you felt a warm, rough, and semi-wet muscle slowly drag across your cheek as you realized the Lion was trying to groom you. Much like Lilia, Leona kept the grooming gentle and did not attempt to hold you closer, so you could escape if you wanted.

Something about the act was incredibly soothing despite how you had once reacted to Lilia's grooming attempts with incredulity. Maybe you were just getting used to the way the beastly men showed affection and camaraderie. Perhaps you just wanted comfort and recognized that this was how the monster men showed and gave that comfort.

Ignoring your phone, which has begun to buzz almost angrily, you lifted a hand to pet the Lion. Lilia said grooming was a way to show you were thankful, so why not pet the Lion that was trying rather hard to soothe you. As your hand rest on his fluffy ears, the purring only got louder and the Lion tilted his head into your touch.

Leona was much softer than you had expected him to be, his golden and dark ashen tresses flowing between your fingers. His ears were almost soft like kitten fur with just a touch of roughness to them that made the texture feel unique under your hand. Even Grim seemed content as the Lion rest a large hand atop the kit's head, petting him gently.

It was the loud and now incessant buzzing of your phone that drew you out of the petting feedback loop you had begun. On the screen was Crowley's number ringing angrily and buzzing with now several missed calls.

"Yes-?"

"Oh thank goodness! My little chick, you shouldn't worry me like that! I was calling to tell you about the increased security I managed to secure for the Spelldrive. How about you and your guards come up to my office so we can talk about it?"

"But, they're busy practicing-"

"Good! See you in a bit!"

You sighed at the brisk way your complaints were pushed aside. Leona was frowning deeply and his tail flicked with annoyance as you lowered the phone. No doubt the Lion had heard and understood the words of the Headmage, setting you back down on the bench and off of his lap as he stood.

"Alright, you lot! Enough for this morning. The Crow wants to talk with the Human, so that means Jack and Ruggie better have their asses showered and ready to go in five minutes."

Both Ruggie and Jack raced away to the showers, not wanting to displease the leader of their pride. The others actually seemed crestfallen at being told to hold off their practice. It was a far cry different from that first morning where it seemed like the other students were dragging their feet. Maybe the meals you made them really did help to energize them in some way.

"Aren't you going to shower too, Lion-a-guy?"

"Eventually, and you know my name is Leona."

"... Stinky Lion-a-guy."

"Hey-!"

~•§•~

You walked behind Grim who happily led your group forward to the Headmage's office, his tail waving as he pranced ahead. Leona walked with you, glancing outside at the storm that seemed to have been raging for several days. You wondered if it was possibly Malleus but there was no way he could keep a storm going for days on end like this, right?

"We're here!"

Grim called out, using his little paws to somewhat shove the doors. Despite how much he tried to push both doors open, they barely moved for the kit. Instead, you gave them a subtle push to help the kit and he smiled excitedly at you as they swung open, allowing you all entry.

"I did it!"

He cheered and leaped up into your waiting arms, purring and completely convinced he had managed to push the large doors open for the group.

"Yes, you did. Good job."

Grim purred as you entered the office, seeing there were already several others waiting along with Crowley. You easily recognized Vil, Rook, Divus, and- surprisingly- Cater. It was the others you didn't really recognize.

Standing with the Owl Harpy who you recognized as the head of Royal Sword Academy were three others students. Che'nya was among them with an ever relaxed and lazy grin on his face, his pronged tail waving behind him to match the relaxed appearance. There was a Harpy boy with black hair, ruffled up and mixed with gentle gray feathers, his wings reminding you of a mourning dove's patterning. The third was what seemed to be a merman with deep maroon hair and bright blue eyes. His scales held a gentle green tone to them and he somewhat reminded you of Cater despite the purple clam-shells that decorated his crisp white uniform.

"There you are, my precious baby bird," Crowley was first to step forward, ushering you away from Leona who just glared at the Harpy as he dragged you closer to the desk and further from the group, "I would like to introduce you to a few of the Royal Sword Academy students! Ambrose has kindly offered to have his students aid in your protection for the upcoming Spelldrive Tournament, since it will only be Night Raven students playing this time round. Though there will be many RSA students keeping watch, these three have been selected specifically as your guards for the day of the Spelldrive-"

"Wait," Leona suddenly spoke up angrily, "hell no! Savanaclaw are the ones selected to guard her this week! Not these pompous-"

"You will be participating in the Spelldrive as will Ruggie and Jack. None of you will be able to keep an eye on my precious little bird while you are playing, Leona."

This made Leona growl, crossing his arms but refusing to argue as the Crow was correct. He knew he wouldn't be able to do both at once, but he was still angry about it regardless.

"My dear (Y/n), this is Neige Le'Blanche, Erikír Helmsman, and Artemiyevich Pinker. They will be keeping an eye on you during the Spelldrive and ensuring no poachers try their luck."

Che'nya's ears went back at the last name listed and you figured that was his actual name instead of the one he commonly went by. Despite how unhappy the feline seemed about the naming mishap, he seemed genuinely happy to see you as he easily walked forward.

"Well, hey! Only been a few weeks since I last saw ya but even still, good to see your axe wound healed. How's Mr. Up-tight-Rule-Monger?"

"Riddle's good. Still mad at himself, but he probably will be for a while."

Crowley didn't seem overly pleased at the familiarity from Che'nya but he didn't stop the feline from wrapping an arm around you. Grim didn't even seem that angry and you wondered if it was because he recognized Che'nya from Riddle's Overblot.

Upon seeing Che'nya behave in such a familiar way, it encouraged the two other students to approach. You heard the faint sound of a bird-hiss from Vil as the other smaller Harpy approached you with his wing-tips slightly dragging on the floor behind him. The Harpy seemed rather sweet as he looked at you with large brown doe-eyes and a gentle smile.

"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you! I'm Neige Le'Blanche, but you can just call me Neige."

"Hi, Neige. Nice to meet you."

Before the third man could approach, Vil cut in with a deep tone and clear disdain for the Royal Sword Academy students standing before him. His multi-colored wing blocked you from shaking hands with Neige, the proud Harpy glaring with his crest raised and his eyes narrowed.

"That's enough of that. How nice they agreed to help, but (Y/n) is a Night Raven College student and these boys should remember that."

"Vil," you scolded gently, the Harpy frowning petulantly as he turned to plead with his eyes, "don't be so uncouth with them. It's only fair I get to know them too if they are going to be helping me out. No need to brush them off like they are nothing."

You could see as the feathers on the neck of the Harpy ruffled an extreme amount, huffing and crossing his arms in frustration. Begrudgingly, he moved his multi-colored wing so the final student, Erikír, could walk up to you. The man had a smooth jawline and his green scales complimented his dark red hair, only seeming to add to his purple clam-shell decorations. He was quick to drop to one knee, kissing the back of your hand and almost seemed to relish the feel of your skin against his scales.

"A pleasure to meet you, beautiful (Y/n), truly a pleasure. You are even more breathtaking in person than Che'nya could possibly describe. Prince Erikír Helmsman of the Coral Sea, at your esteemed service."

"The pleasure's all mine, Prince Erikír."

"Please, just Erikír will do. Or Erik, if you would like."

Grim growled softly at the Merman who seemed to heed the warning of the little Hellcat, backing off to give you both space. As you tried to familiarize yourself with the group standing before you, Rook was the next to interject.

"We are all here now, allons-nous?"

"What?"

"Right, I assumed our esteemed Headmage didn't tell you. We're going to be starting those social media pages today, so we need to get outfits and pictures properly taken. With such a popular and famed cast, we can surely get several photos taken that will shed a favorable light on you, my lovely Mademoiselle Trickster."

Vil then spoke again, picking you up far too easily and setting you on the large Drider's back despite your surprise. It seemed like even Cater was displeased with the RSA students even though Rook spoke highly of those present. You got the strong sense that there was going to be friction between the students of the two schools, but hoped they would be able to keep it mostly to a minimum.

"Now, let us away to somewhere with better lighting and start this photoshoot!"

You nodded, allowing Rook to carry you. Behind you, Leona and Vil locked eyes, nodding in silent agreement. Those RSA students would not get the chance to get their filthy overly kind hands on you if the two Housewardens had anything to say about it. A loose alliance forming between the now irritated Dormleaders against these insufferable Royal Sword Academy students.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #humans are extinct twst au

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ship-graveyard · 1 year ago

Text

Traveling with P1Harmony 💕

🛫 - Air Travel Edition - 🛬

☁️ - fluff | 🌙 - gn!reader | 💞 - all members

note: occasional references to travel anxiety

———————————————————————

Keeho:

♡ - always makes it to the airport perfectly on time (no getting bored or stressing because he’s timed everything perfectly)

♡ - incredible at navigating crowds and fighting to keep your place in lines for security, boarding, and deplaning

♡ - idk how but the airline always loses his luggage

♡ - you need a break from the airport chaos? dw his arms are your safe haven and he’s got a hug already queued up for you

♡ - will take the middle seat for you if you’ve been assigned it BUT he will whine about it later (good news: you can just kiss his pout off his lips and he’ll forgive you)

♡ - want help lifting your luggage into an overhead bin? luckily your big strong boyfriend is here to help! (he will accidentally smack someone in the face with it when taking it back down but shhh he’s trying)

♡ - bothers you 24/7 on the plane, but he means well… he just can’t help it bc he wants to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible (ooh what are you watching?? are you hungry? thirsty?? he could definitely steal water from someone in first class, would that help?)

♡ - wants you to sleep on his shoulder SO bad. he’ll be slowly leaning into your space if you start to nod off until you get the hint

———————————————————————

Theo:

♡ - lets you completely melt into him if you want to sleep while waiting for boarding (just results in the sleepiest pile of limbs bc he’s probably out immediately too)

♡ - overpacks… why does he have 14 hats when he only ever wears one? why did he pack a toaster in his carry-on?? the world will never know

♡ - has 7 different beverages with him at all times

♡ - more likely to distract you and redirect your energy than directly comfort you if you get travel anxiety, but it still helps significantly just knowing he’s aware of it and by your side if you need anything at all

♡ - he’s going to fight you for claim of the armrest and not in a cute way

♡ - will smack you if you turn the overhead light on (if you really want to read/draw or do anything else that you need to see clearly, he MIGHT let you turn the light on if you ask nicely and/or sweet talk him)

♡ - spends half the flight judging the people who brought their children on the plane

♡ - will get hopelessly invested in whatever you’re doing/watching but pretends not to be whenever you catch him leaning over to see better

———————————————————————

Jiung:

♡ - brings an extra sweatshirt/jacket for you bc he knows you’ll forget your own, get cold, or need the comfort

♡ - takes care of everything that might be stressful for you. you’re nervous? dw he’s got your printed boarding passes ready and your luggage handled. you just need to show up and hold his hand

♡ - does a mental analysis of the best quality airport cuisine compared to affordability bc you deserve to be well-fed and pampered but he’s also really practical

♡ - surprise kisses as positive reinforcement when you remember to hydrate

♡ - zonks out on the plane. he’s been busy taking care of you, let the poor guy drool on your shoulder a bit

♡ - type of person to watch the flight tracker the entire way there

♡ - if you accidentally intrude on his foot space be prepared for the most intense high-stakes game of footsie you’ve ever been involved in (he’ll win but end up just pulling your legs onto his lap bc he feels a bit guilty and he loves you too much)

———————————————————————

Intak:

♡ - loses his boarding pass immediately (you better have backups)

♡ - will get lost in the airport if you let him out of your sight

♡ - lets you buy anything you want with his card (he just wants to trail along and hang off your arm and spend time with you)… puppyboy IM SORRY who said that

♡ - leans his entire weight on you when waiting to board bc he’s tired and he loves you and you’re right there

♡ - underpacks. it’s always “babe can i borrow your toothbrush? i forgot mine😔” and “one pair of pants is probably enough for the whole week, right?”

♡ - you’ll have to be the responsible one tbh but he’s always right there if you need anything and he’d step up in an instant if you asked him to. it’s only bc he feels so comfortable with you that he lets himself relax so much and truly be himself, so he’s eternally grateful that you look out for him when he needs it

♡ - asks to be involved in whatever you choose to do on the plane bc he wants to spend that time with you

♡ - if you have trouble speaking up, he’d happily do it for you. need accommodations?need to ask someone to move so you can go to the bathroom? he’s got you

———————————————————————

Soul:

♡ - gets pulled over at security for something really bizarre (a cool rock he found that makes it look like he’s smuggling drugs, a jar of loose coins of various types, the creepiest figurine imaginable that he decided was cute, etc, etc)

♡ - might need your help with translating some things depending on where you’re flying out of/to (he could probably figure it all out on his own, but he likes being able to rely on you so he doesn’t have to channel all of his energy into making himself understood)

♡ - traveling exhausts him tbh but hugs and spontaneous kisses help him recharge!

♡ - equally likely to distract you from nerves by starting fun conversations or reaching out and reassuring you with physical affection

♡ - hoards the little snacks they give out on the airplane and offers them to you as surprise gifts later

♡ - watches everyone else’s screen on the plane instead of his own lol (he’s invested in the movie two rows up leave him be)

♡ - wants to try to learn a few phrases of the local language on the plane if you’re traveling somewhere with a native language he doesn’t speak

♡ - if you fall asleep on the plane expect to have random braids in your hair when you wake up (it’s not his fault that he wanted something to do with his hands and in his defense he finds you absolutely adorable with them. esp finds it endearing if you leave them in bc that’s his handiwork you’re showcasing)

———————————————————————

Jongseob:

♡ - might share some of your travel anxiety, but instead of making him distant it just makes him more invested in getting you both there safely and being conscious of your needs. you can be certain that he’s done his research, and you’ll always be safe and taken care of when he’s by your side

♡ - the most difficult part of flying with him is getting him to wake up early tbh. he’ll be slumped against you in a half-successful back hug while you scan the departures board for your gate bc he’s still half asleep

♡ - effortlessly cool and fashionable even with messy hair and comfortable clothes

♡ - soft kisses to your temple and warm hands brushing against yours when he wants to get your attention

♡ - wants to switch off picking songs to listen to on the plane (or listen to a combined playlist of each of your interests) with shared earbuds bc he thinks it’s an important way to share your interests and emotions with each other

♡ - before you even ask he’s handing you a Nintendo switch controller and encouraging you to play something with him (dw he finds you adorable no matter if you’re terrible at it or if you kick his ass when it comes to gaming)

♡ - prefers pushing the armrest up so you can lean into each other and just be close (he isn’t super cuddly/touchy in public, but he enjoys the casual proximity. and sometimes the urge to dote on you is too strong to be contained)

♡ - not really the type of person to speak up and ask the flight crew if he needs something, but the second you need something he’s on his feet and advocating for you

#p1h #p1harmony #p1harmony fluff #p1harmony x reader #piwon x reader #p1h imagines #traveling with piwon #yoon keeho x reader #choi taeyang x reader #choi jiung x reader #hwang intak x reader #haku shota x reader #kim jongseob x reader #p1ece #feel free to lmk if there are grammatical errors lol this has been sitting in my drafts for so long #♡#☁️#🌙#💞

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msschemmenti · 9 months ago

Text

fun police

eventual emily prentiss x reader / bau x reader

summary: reader is hired by hr to monitor morale and implement more self-care moments for agents. the unit she struggles most with is obviously the BAU

a/n: i often forget criminal minds is not a workplace comedy with a sprinkle of killers because i write stuff like this. at my core, i just wanna giggle. sue me ig :) [this is giving more prologue than anything— if y’all are into this idea i’ll post more of this]

emily groaned into the air of her empty office as yet another email rolled across her screen from hr. in theory, the new self-care initiative was definitely a good idea, but she knew her team. and she knew herself. with all the sicarios serial killers still lingering in their minds— a mindful monday break was not priority. they’d skirted around all the previous mandated attempts to unwind due to cases popping up and splitting the team up, but she knew they could only keep that up for so long.

she clicked into the email, the URGENT subject line keeping her from ignoring it. she skimmed the greeting and first paragraph of reprimands for the lack of participation. she got to the next paragraph and instantly paused in dread.

“starting monday morning, the behavioral analysis unit will be assigned a health and wellness agent who will join your team in the field to ensure that you and your team are balancing your work and health appropriately.”

a glorified babysitter? oh the team was going to hate this. it took a certain type of person to weather the storms they did and those types of people did not have healthy coping mechanisms. emily rolled her desk chair back enough to pull out the bottle of wine she hid in a drawer and the glass that accompanied it. if the fun police was coming to town she might as well enjoy this luxury before they arrived.

emily was the first in as always. all that first to arrive, last to leave stuff. but as she walked up the few stairs to her office, she quickly realized she may not have been first after all.

“uh hi? can i help you?” she asked as she stood in the doorway of her office. the woman sat across from her desk turned to look over her shoulder and smiled cheerily. far too cheery for the time of day.

“section chief prentiss, good morning! just the woman i’m here for.” the mystery woman smiled and moved over to extend her hand toward emily. “y/n y/ln, wellness consultant. i believe someone emailed you about my arrival?”

emily’s eyes traveled up the woman’s frame curiously. she was dressed smartly, on the business side of business casual and she looked far too young to be doing the work she was doing. remembering the welcoming part of the email she’d read last week, she plastered on her most practiced diplomatic smile and shook her hand. “nice to meet you miss y/ln. i wasn’t expecting you until this afternoon. please have a seat.”

emily rounded her desk and slid into her desk chair. she watched y/n do the same and subconsciously wondered how someone could look that good this early in the morning. she’d barely had her first cup of coffee and she felt like she was barely functioning. but here this wellness expert was, dressed to the nines and in the office before her.

y/n cleared her throat and slid a folder over to emily with a sheepish smile. “i figured we could touch base a bit on the team and my plans for the time being. and i thought that’d be easier with goals and objectives breakdown.”

goals and objectives breakdown? emily looked from the folder to the y/n and back in a bit of shock. she hadn’t exactly expected there to be folders of information or goals and objectives. she thought they do some meditation and call it a day… but as she opened the folder and saw the detailed breakdowns and plans she realized she was sorely mistaken.

“oh wow, forgive me for my ignorance. but i assumed this would be a sort of once a month morale boosting bonding sort of thing and you’d just sign off on whatever we decide to do.”

y/n didn’t even flinch at emily’s words, only smiled with a chuckle. “well that would’ve been the case a few months ago but based on your teams workload and concerns from outside of this office— the director is looking for something a bit more direct and focused.”

“direct and focused?” emily repeated.

“mmhm, you can see it all outlined there but simply put im here to help every member of your team identify healthy coping mechanisms to combat the work you’re doing. that’ll look different for every member but it’ll be personal. some teams have preferred check in meetings and others like to keep journals. each member can choose how they’d like to work with me.”

emily sighed as she read through the folder and listened to y/n, it was all sounding unnecessary at she was already trying to think of a way to get the team on board. getting rossi to participate was going to kill her. “as you can imagine, i’m not sure how receptive the team will be to these forced wellness sessions…”

“i anticipated that. and i’ve found most teams are far more receptive when their fearless leader is a willing participant. you know leading by example.” y/n spoke suggestively lifting her eyebrow in challenge.

“oh you mean me? you want me to participate in your little exercises so the others will be more willing?” emily asked in disbelief.

“well yes, as much as i believe that you’ve got your own mental health exercises in place— you could humor me with a few sessions.” y/n grinned.

emily eyed her suspiciously, “and if we refuse?”

“well i hope it doesn’t come to that, but after i’ve made my base analysis of the team i’ll have the digression to determine who is and is not fit for field work. and i have a feeling that wouldn’t go over to well.”

“yeah that’s a sure fire way to make some enemies around here.” emily grimaced with a huff.

“thought so.” y/n shrugged but pulled out a black planner and pen and looked at emily expectantly. “so chief, when do you wanna start? promise i’ll make it worth your while.”

#criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #bau team #bau x reader #msschemmenti #fun police

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pixie-ass · 2 years ago

Text

Tim LaFlour x F!Coquette(ish) reader

Readers a girl in his english class, inspired by the scene of him reading Langston Hughes. They're opposites bc I think the opposite aesthetic trope is so damn cute.

I have a lot of ideas for this trope that I'll try to add!

Warnings - none except for fluff with my fav punk!

°•♡•°

Tim was not the best at poetry. Needless to say, english literature wasn't one of his strongest suits. That's why when the professor had assigned a very long, very taunting poetry book along with an analysis, he was fucked. Not only that but he didn't really know anybody in that class to ask for help and he was sure his roommate, Daryl, was as clueless as him.

As class was dismissed and all the students were beginning to leave, Tim packed his stuff up, sighing as he began to think. The class size wasn't big, so as people walked out, he looked around for anyone who seemed helpful, only to catch eyes with a particular girl.

He'd noticed her since the beginning of the semester. She always sat second row on the right and would never talk unless called on. He noticed all her supplies were a light shade of pink, which he thought suited her. She'd always dress with light colors too, very put together. Tim sat in the row behind her a few seats to her left so he'd always find himself zoning out on her, only because she stood out.

“Do you know how to do this?” He'd take his chance and ask her, she seemed so sophisticated taking notes everyday, he was sure she'd know what she was doing. Her eyes widened and she seemed to go from shock, to confusion, to acceptance all in the span of a second. “Yeah, we're just going through the book assigned and analyzing the poems. Pretty easy.” She smiled as she swung her backpack (light pink of course) over her shoulders.

“I got that, but I don't get it, like how we're supposed to analyze. I suck at this class.” She giggled in response, causing Tim's brows to knit in confusion, he couldn't find what was amusing. “It's pretty simple, if you want, I can help you.” She offered him a sweet smile that caused him to smile. He nodded, “Yeah, that'd be awesome! We can work in my dorm.”

She nodded, “I'm y/n by the way.” She offered her hand out for him to shake. He slipped his hand into hers, feeling her soft skin and admiring how well taken care of her nails were. “Tim! Nice to meet ya." He stared into her eyes almost dumbfounded as he shook her hand, a dumb smile plastered on both their faces.

------

A knock on the door startled Daryl as he sat in the living room, tense from the drug effects. Tim opened the door to his dorm, quickly walking over to the front door and opening it, “Hey! Welcome, welcome, you can make yourself right at home. My rooms over here.” Daryl raised a brow as he watched the very opposite girl walk in. Her light clothed and accessories a blinding contrast to everything Tim owned. It was almost comedic.

“We’re gonna be studying, dawg, so don't interrupt so we can get smart.”

“Yeah man, don't worry. You have fun.” He responded, a teasing hint in his tone.

As the girl walked into his room, she couldn't help but look around, admiring all the punk posters and dark themes. She stood out like a sore thumb. Her white sweater, blue jeans, and pink accessories were almost blinding in there. Tim noticed straight away, letting out a small chuckle as he shut the door. “You listen to any of them?” He asked, pointing to his various punk band posters. As expected, she shook her head, “No, haha. They look sick, though.” This caused Tim to smile as she set her bag down on the floor next to his bed. He motioned for her to sit, and she did.

Immediately, she began pulling out the poetry book and some paper. I guess she was here for business. Tim sat down across from her, getting his own stuff out. As she got a paper, she began explaining, Tim nodding in response as he listened. It seemed a hundred times easier to listen to her than the professor. After explanations he began to understand, they'd take turns reading poems out loud, analyzing, highlighting, and annotating what they agreed was important, (though it was mostly Y/n who would point out most and Tim would just agree since she seemed so pleased).

Tim noticed that when she would concentrate she would chew on the end of her pencil, her glossy pink lips attracting him like a moth to light. She had pretty lips and he couldn't help but stare at them, his own mouth seeming to slightly open as he stared until he had to catch himself multiple times.

After about 2 hours of this, they'd finished more than half the assignment, and they were both more than exhausted. It was nearly midnight. Yawning, y/n shut the poetry book, packing her papers into her folder. They hadn't chit chatted a lot, Tim didn't want to interrupt her focus so as they cleaned up Tim spoke up.

“So do you enjoy poetry? You seemed really into all the poems.” Y/n shrugged as she packed away the last of her things, “I guess I do. I like the beauty and emotion put into poems. They're really beautiful if you read them right.” Her response was said in a sleepy tone but was so sincere, Tim found himself feeling a sort of admiration along with a tingling in his stomach.

He smiled at her as she broke out into a yawn again. “You seem tired, we should get to sleep, eh.” He suggested standing up and fixing his bed to rest. She also stood up, stretching her body. “How fars, your dorm? I can walk you. It's pretty late, so I wouldn't want you to get spooked.” She giggled as he said it. Mostly, his tone was what made her laugh.

“It's all across campus, on the other side of the main hall.” His brows raised in concern. “That far? That's like a 10 minute walk.” He knew it wasn't far but she seemed so tired he wasn't sure if she'd even make it, she looked one blink away from knocking over like a leaf in the wind.

“You'd be better off staying here.” She raised a brow at his comment, a frown appearing on her soft face, “I'm not dumb enough to stay in a college guys dorm for the night. If you're thinking what you are, know I'm not the one.” Her sleepy voice was now stern as she headed for the door, her walk telling him that his comment had made her upset.

“Hey, hey. I didn't mean it like that. I promise! I'm on a no sex, drugs, or anything sinful pact so I swear I didn't mean anything that you're thinking.” He raised his arms up in defense, watching as she stopped and turned around, eyeing him.

“I was just saying, since you look so tired. I think it'd be better for you to just sleep here than walk all the way over there.” She stared at him in silence for a few long seconds.

She was only thinking it through so much since she really found Tim to be cute. Ever since she'd laid eyes on him as he walked in through the door mid-lecture, she'd felt her cheeks go pink. Something about the way he looked, or carried himself, or talked, it all fascinated her, and soon enough, she found herself crushing on him like a high school girl.

Sighing, she responded, “Okay, fine. But only because I really am so exhausted.” Tim's face seemed to go from upset to a beaming smile quickly. “Awesome! You can borrow one of my T-shirts if you want. And you can take the bed. I'll take the floor.” He exited the room after tossing a t-shirt onto the bed, leaving her a very flustered and hot mess. Her heart was racing as she lifted up the shirt he'd left for her. It was of a punk band. It smelled just like Tim. She blushed as she put it on. She blushed as she got into Tim's very soft and warm bed, blushed at how sweet it was for him to offer to sleep on the floor.

As she tucked in, Tim knocked, walking in after she answered and smiled down at the view of her covered in his blanket, completely bundled from neck down.

"Thank you for helping me by the way. Learned more from you then the professor, goodnight.”

He shut the lights off, and y/n heard as he shuffled on the floor. Looking down, she saw him lying with a comically small blanket and a decor pillow. Her heart raced in her ears as she decided if she should speak or not.

“You can sleep on the bed, Tim. It's your bed anyway, so I'd feel terrible if you slept on the floor.” She was also pitied by the sight of his tall figure under that poor excuse of a blanket. She heard him shuffle and next thing he was standing.

“You sure? Really, I'm alright sleeping on the good ole floor.” He chuckled.

“Im sure.” She scooted over to the other side, patting the bed. He didn't hesitate even a second as he tucked in beside her, far enough to not make her uncomfortable. As her eyes adjusted, she could begin to make out his silhouette in the dark. That's when she realized how close he really was, and she found a new found heat on her face. She went to cover her head with the blanket as if he could see her reddened cheeks.

“Tim.? You still awake?” She spoke softly under the covers. The soft ruffle of the pillow case sounded, “Yeah. What's up?” He whispered back.

Her hands seemed to tingle along with the butterflies in her stomach. She uncovered herself and moved her body so she could stare at him and him at her, he was already facing her direction though.

“Thank you for letting me stay, I didn't tell you, but it means a lot that you care.” She offered a sleepy smile as she stared into his face. He smiled back, and though she couldn't see it, she could see the outline of his cheeks when he did so.

“It's no biggie. Just the right thing to do. You tell me if you had a pretty girl in your dorm who was tired and lived far away that you wouldn't feel bad if she was alone.” His statement caused her to let out a small giggle into the sheets, which in turn caused her heart to flutter.

She scooted closer to him, not much, not enough to be noticeable in the dark but enough to where she could feel how warm he was, a huge grin spread across her face. "Goodnight, Tim…" Her eyes were far too heavy to keep open now, she shut them, and without a thought cuddled into Tims side causing him to freeze.

He slowly looked down at her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, her closed eyes and her features. Gently he wrapped his arm around her, feeling her shift closer to him, his heart ramming against his chest. She was so small in his arms, so warm, he felt himself leaning into her head, resting his head against the top of hers, caressing her back as she slept. He wasn't sure why he was doing this or why he felt so much in his gut.

All he knew was that he was happy, holding her and admiring her. That he was feeling far too much all at once.

He'd have to talk to her about this tomorrow. His emotions would be the death of him.

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slt4kavanagh · 14 days ago

Note

helloooo

could you maybe write something angsty(not about his addiction tho i cant take that) with joey that ends with fluff💌

none of it meant anything

pairing: joey lynch x fem!reader

tw: angst

a/n: angsty joey turns me on in a diff way and mb for taking this long to get back to you

masterlist !

it started small—like most things with joey lynch.

just a flicker of something in the background, quiet and simmering. barely there.

you were always soft. too soft, maybe. always too polite, too quick to smile, too unwilling to shut someone down outright. it wasn’t because you liked the attention—it just felt mean to ignore people. especially when they weren’t doing anything outright wrong.

joey noticed it long before he said anything. the way guys at school gravitated to you. harmless, at first—asking for help on assignments, offering you gum, lingering at your locker just a bit too long. he’d watch from the other side of the hallway, pretending not to care, earbuds in and hood up. pretending he was the type of boy who didn’t get jealous. pretending he wasn’t already in way too deep.

he hated it. hated how obvious he was starting to feel. hated how he couldn’t look away.

but you? you were clueless. not stupid—not by any means—but soft-hearted in a way that made it hard to see how close he was to coming undone over you.

and that week, it got worse. some new lad in your english class started sitting beside you, laughing a little too loud at your jokes, bumping your knee with his under the desk. you thought nothing of it. you were trying to focus on the poetry analysis.

joey was watching from two rows back, eyes flicking between his book and the way your head tilted when you smiled. he didn’t hear a single thing mr. daly said. he was too busy gripping his pen hard enough to snap it in two.

you didn’t see the storm brewing—not until after class, when you found joey at your locker. hoodie on, shoulders tense, not looking at you.

“hey,” you greeted carefully, sensing the shift in his energy. “you good?”

he shrugged. “brilliant.”

“…right.”

the silence stretched. students filtered out around you, laughing and shoving. and just when you were about to ask again, he snapped.

“what’s with the new lad?” he asked bluntly, eyes still not meeting yours.

you blinked. “what?”

“the guy who’s practically sitting in your lap every english class,” joey muttered, voice low and sharp. “you like him or something?”

“no,” you said, confused. “he’s just—he’s in my group for the assignment. he was asking about—”

“sure he was.” the words were bitter. “you always that friendly with every guy who smiles at you?”

your face fell. “joey, what the fuck?”

he finally looked at you then—and his expression gutted you. because underneath the sharpness, there was something else. something wounded.

“you think it’s funny?” he asked, quieter now. “watching them fall all over you like that? while i’m just—”

he stopped himself. jaw tight. fists clenched.

“while you’re just what?” you asked, voice trembling.

but he shook his head, stepping back. “never mind.”

and then he was gone. just like that. no explanation. no time to follow.

you stood there, heart pounding, breath catching. replaying his words over and over again. not knowing what you did wrong, only knowing that somehow, you’d hurt him.

and you couldn’t fix it. not yet.

—

the silence that followed was deafening.

joey didn’t show up to lunch. didn’t answer your texts. and when you passed him in the corridor, he barely spared you a glance—just kept walking, jaw tight, eyes forward, hoodie up like it was some kind of armour.

you hated it. hated how your chest ached when he didn’t look at you. hated how heavy your steps felt, like every hallway in school was a reminder that you’d lost him, and you didn’t even know what you’d done.

so when friday rolled around and you saw him posted up outside the school gates after class, cigarette hanging from his fingers, jaw working as he stared at the pavement, you didn’t hesitate. you walked straight up to him, heart in your throat.

“joey.”

he didn’t look at you. just pulled in a slow drag, then blew it out through his nose.

“you’ve been ignoring me,” you said gently.

he gave a humourless snort. “didn’t know you noticed. figured you were too busy with your new little boyfriend.”

you flinched. “stop.”

he finally looked at you—and his eyes were sharper than you’d ever seen. darker.

“why?” he asked, bitter. “am i not allowed to be pissed off anymore? can’t even say anything without you getting all innocent and confused.”

“because i am confused, joey,” you shot back, the frustration finally spilling over. “you’re acting like i did something wrong when i’ve done nothing.”

“that’s the problem,” he snapped, voice rising. “you never do anything. you just sit there and smile and let every guy in school crawl over you like it’s nothing.”

“you think i like that?” you asked, voice cracking. “you think i want to deal with that every day? i don’t even know how to say no without sounding like a bitch—”

“but you never say no, do you?” he muttered. “you let them talk to you like that. laugh with them. touch you.”

“i didn’t ask for it!” you snapped, eyes suddenly brimming. “and it’s not my fault they don’t know boundaries!”

joey opened his mouth—then closed it again. his throat bobbed.

“i didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t enough,” you whispered. “i didn’t even know you felt that way.”

he looked at you like you’d just smacked him across the face.

“…i didn’t think i did either,” he admitted finally, voice quiet. “not until i saw you laughing with someone else. and i know it’s not fair, alright? i know i’m being a dick. i just—” he trailed off, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“i just felt like i was losing you before i ever really had you.”

the silence between you stretched thin.

your voice was soft. “joey… you never told me you wanted me like that.”

his eyes met yours again. everything raw and exposed.

“because i didn’t think you’d want me back.”

you stepped closer. close enough that you could smell the faint smoke on his hoodie. close enough that he couldn’t look anywhere else.

“i do,” you whispered. “but you can’t take it out on me. i’m not the enemy.”

joey looked like he was about to cry or punch a wall—or both.

but he didn’t do either. he just breathed out, broken and shaky, and nodded.

“okay,” he whispered. “i’m sorry.”

—

you didn’t expect him to show up at your door that night.

but he did.

it was just after ten. your mam was watching telly in the front room, the house mostly dark except for the soft flicker of the screen. you were curled up in bed, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, still replaying the argument in your head when the knock came—quiet, unsure.

you opened your window first, just in case it was one of your brothers being an arsehole. but it was joey.

hood up, eyes red-rimmed, hands stuffed into the pockets of his windbreaker like he had no idea what to do with them.

“can i come in?” he asked softly, looking up at you from the garden.

you didn’t speak. just nodded, heart jumping, and slipped downstairs barefoot to let him in through the back door.

he looked smaller than usual somehow. like the weight of everything was finally catching up to him. like he hadn’t slept since the last time you talked.

you brought him up to your room without a word. closed the door. sat on the edge of the bed while he stood there, shifting from foot to foot like he didn’t know if he deserved to sit.

“i was such a prick,” he said eventually. voice quiet, but shaking.

you swallowed. “yeah.”

joey gave a soft, choked laugh. “deserved that.”

“why’d you come?”

“to say sorry. properly.”

you looked up at him. “okay.”

he sat down beside you, careful, like he was scared to get too close.

“i don’t get jealous,” he said. “not usually. but with you, it’s like—fuck, it’s like i’m not in control of it. and it scared the shit out of me.”

you stayed quiet, listening.

“i’ve never really had someone who made me feel like… home,” he added, eyes fixed on the floor. “but you do. and i think i panicked. thought i was gonna ruin it before it even started.”

you blinked, throat tight. “joey…”

“i’m sorry for everything i said,” he whispered. “you didn’t deserve that. none of it. i don’t want to be the reason you feel small.”

your hand brushed his. tentative.

“i want you,” you said, barely louder than a breath. “but you have to talkto me, not blow up at me.”

he nodded. fast, like he’d say yes to anything you asked. “i know. i promise.”

he looked at you then, really looked at you, and you could feel the shift. the soft ache in his chest radiating outward.

you leaned in. and he met you halfway.

the kiss was slow, different than any you’d ever shared. it wasn’t rushed or breathless—it was him saying thank you, and i’m sorry, and i’m yours if you’ll still have me.

when you pulled away, you tucked your head against his shoulder, breathing him in.

he held you like you were something precious. something fragile and irreplaceable.

and maybe you were.

because in that moment, joey lynch—guarded, reckless, deeply adored—looked at you like you were the safest place he’d ever known.

#boys of tommen #joey lynch #saving 6 #redeeming 6 #chloe walsh #slt4kavanagh

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siryouarebeingmocked · 5 months ago

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That list.

This just sounds like a dude who's kinda feminine. I've noticed that a lot of people seem to think being gender-non-confirming is the same as being enby.

Which seems kinda sexist, actually.

Given how most of these are from non-European cultures, gotta wonder if this particular thing is related to the revived Noble Savage idea.

...Ancient Greek Mythology? Really?

This just sounds like extremist Christianity. Like conversion therapy.

Ironic that the list Tena linked to included a Christian sect.

Assigned gender at birth = bad, assigned gender at some indeterminate later point = good?

I'm sorry, isn't this what pro-trans people are supposed to be against?

If you're claiming all of those identities are valid, then you're also endorsing multiple contradicting religious beliefs. And saying mutilating people's bodies in the name of the belief their bodies are inherently wrong is inherently okay.

You're endorsing Christians so extreme they make the actual Puritans look like National Baptists.

This is not logically consistent. In fact, it's awfully close to certain stereotypes of trans supporters.

When those total strangers want society, law, and government to validate their self-identity, it becomes everyone’s business.

And those are, naturally, very important to trans people. Explicitly, for many of them.

For obvious reasons!*

Also, I love how this is coming from someone with an entirely ideological objection to Trump’s actions, who can’t explain how this will allegedly actually affect people.

Seriously, she threw her toys out of the pram.

renardtrickster tried (archive), and he had to use someone else’s line-by-line analysis, which is clearly not the one line point Tenafly made.

And that’s putting it generously.

Tena was implying that believing in only two genders and not non-binaries is the same as being anti-trans. Which it isn't.

A detailed analysis of Trump's Executive Order is trying to motte-and-bailey the argument. And Tena's own childish tantrums.

This is not the way to make an actual argument if you want to convince people.

Irony is, it's this exact same sort of disconnect from what normal people believe - maybe even normal liberals and progressives - that helped the Dems lose.

I also like how Renard's tags imply he's "arguing with pigs", when this whole thread was started by someone who was angry and confrontational and kept engaging with blatant bait and did nothing constructive.

The meanings of words are determined by usage. And everyone I've seen who claims gender and sex are two different things is a pro-trans progressive person. And I'm not sure it's a majority belief even among that group.

Which suggests that they formed this belief out of ideological convenience, not working from first principles.

At the very least you can't act like it's a universally accepted fact.

*This is not the first time I’ve seen people imply that LGBT stuff should just be ignored, even though there’s a great deal of effort being spent by LGBT advocates on making it part of international, everyday discourse.

Same with a lot of Diversity™ stuff. They don’t want to address the criticism, so they say you’re wrong for even caring in the first place, even though that also applies to the supporters.

Though these folks are rarely so silly as to talk about apparent anti-LGBT discrimination at the highest level of American government and then insist LGBT stuff is a private matter.

Which makes it extra ironic when Renard’s goalpost-moving defense includes talking about lack of government support for trans people as a negative.

#crazy #trump #tenaflyviper #lgbt #this is why trump won #renardtrickster #doublethink

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remus-poopin · 6 months ago

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It seems like you somehow manage to have one foot in the marauders fandom and one in the snape fandom and I’m so impressed. How do you do it?

Also, since you get to see both sides of things I’m wondering what you like the most about each fandom?

Ok this is an interesting question! Honestly I think I’m able to do this, and do this enjoyably, because I really try to make an effort to not moralize. This hasn’t always been how I interacted with fiction in the past, so it’s been a tricky process of learning how to do this with consistency. But it is something that I think is very important for me to do, not only because I have a better time in fandom when I'm not moralizing, but also because it inspires a sort of self reflection and allows me to practice empathy in a way that’s feels more analytical than emotional/inherent. And in the case of navigating two fandoms that have a built in tension between them, this becomes especially helpful.

The tension between the snape and marauders fandom almost always comes down to moralizing. The back and forth arguments between fans are usually rooted in the idea that the other character is not only morally flawed, but more morally flawed than theirs. If you look at any anti Snape or anti James post there’s an underlying agenda that’s trying to prove one is worse than the other. This is pretty irritating to me because I find it to be very boring, silly, and just missing the point of the characters and themes. But this is also irritating because I find that it's ineffective in producing any real meaningful analysis on these characters. Because the goal is not to understand that character, but to condemn them.

(This doesn’t mean that I think you shouldn’t examine the behavior of the characters, just that assigning a moral judgment to that behavior outside the world of that character leads to heavily biased analysis (meaning making it personal and about your standard of morality leads to a messy understanding of the character and story))

Going back to the tension between these fandoms, I think when you’re busy trying to prove how shitty a fictional character is you have a hard time separating them from their fans. Because it’s not really about the character anymore it’s about you and your personal feelings and beliefs.

I very frequently run into posts talking about “snape defenders” and “marauders defenders”, like this is some kind of battle where a side needs to be picked, and then picking a side is a reflection of your morality and politics (I’ve seen marauders fans imply that “snape defenders” are fascists or fascist sympathizers and I’ve seen snape fans call marauders fans “class traitors”, all in the last couple days mind you).

I’m going to be honest and say that whenever this pops up it’s gets pretty frustrating, frustrating because it feels like people are just using these characters as avatars for larger discussions they actually want to be having, but because these characters have specific stories, motivations, and complexities it makes this extremely messy (want to vent about the cult of conservatism that's growing all around us? Bring out the Snape Ken doll and talk about how he deserved his bullying (if he even was bullied)! Hate feeling the weight of capitalism on your chest while the class divide grows larger and larger? Call James “bourgeois scum”!)

(Or as @sideprince wisely said, it’s a way to be political without actually engaging in politics)

So yes I find this tiring, but I also really get it. I have done some form of this myself plenty of times. I am not immune to moralizing or having these same type of strong emotional reactions to a fictional character. In fact, I had this very recently when I watched “Girls” for the first time last month. Until maybe this week I felt a strong hatred for the character “Adam”. This hatred came from seeing him do something in a scene that I considered to be morally repugnant. The scene itself was incredibly graphic and triggering to the point where I had to stop watching the show for a couple days. The disgust response firing in my brain made it so I was incapable of viewing his character as anything but a POS, and all the complexities of him were lost because I refused to engage with them. So all his actions after that were viewed with a moral judgement from me. I mean even when he was being funny, sweet, or just interesting I felt incredibly annoyed because I desperately didn’t want to like him. However I was cognizant of the fact that I was having this sort of moral reaction to fiction because this is a show that is defined by its complex, complicated, and realistic characters, who have all done some very questionable things, and yet he was the only character getting this treatment in my head. So feeling frustrated with my own hypocrisy I decided that I needed to start approaching this differently.

So I made a choice to look at his action, the one that I found disgusting, and start breaking it down: Why did he do that? What was it saying about his relation to shame, power, control, violence, sex, gender, etc.? How else has he reacted to those issues in the show? I kept asking those types of questions, on and on, until suddenly I wasn’t just thinking about the disgusting act itself, but the character. The act stopped being about my own feelings and trauma and became about him.

That’s what I do with the marauders and snape, that’s what I strive to do with any fictional character, because to me that’s the most enjoyable way to engage with fiction. And I find that the fun I have in fandom is greatly limited when I’m pissed at a character, because it makes it difficult to interact with others who are their fans. If I see that someone is playing with that character, a little voice would go, “but what about my anger?” followed by a sharp sting. That type of anger, that moral anger, is personal, but this character is public, it lives beyond me and my feelings. My anger is mine, it never belonged to the public.

And I have at some point felt that same type of moral disgust/anger for both the marauders and snape. But I zeroed in on what specific action was making me feel that way, tried to understand why I had that reaction in the first place, and then went back to the action itself and tried to contextualize it within the character and story so it was removed from myself.

That’s how I’ve been helping myself with the moralizing issue. I’ll still have these reactions in the future, I might even have one on here, but I'll keep working on it. Because either way I love all of these characters and I want to continue to be able to exist in both fandoms without having to choose a side, or even lean a certain way. When you're not trying to win the war on which character was the Shittiest™ the pressure turns off and you can just enjoy these multifaceted characters with their many flaws and many strengths.

And as for what I like most about each fandom: I adore the snapedom because I've always felt that the best meta in the entire hp fandom came from there. Honestly the whole reason I love snape so much wasn't because I ever felt particularly identified with him, but because I read a billion incredible metas and analyses about him and truly came to appreciate his complexities.

For the marauders side I think I really enjoy the camaraderie, there are a lot of really sweet and cool people I’ve talked to on here and that's always been a blast!

#this got longer than expected #but honestly I wanted to talk about a lot of this for a while #also another tip to help with moralizing is acknowledge that characters and their actions exist to move the plot forward #this is helpful because it appeals to your rationality but I also realize this issue is strongly motivated by emotion #so it only helps so much #so I just do a combo of that and what I mentioned above #asks #severus snape #the marauders #James potter #Sirius black #Remus lupin #peter pettigrew #marauders

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jasonswh0rre · 1 year ago

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The Psychological Analysis of Jason Todd

I am a psych major, and my professor is allowing us to make an analysis of any character of our choice, so I figured who better to write then Jason Todd. This was very fun to write and I very much enjoyed rewatching Batman: Arkham Knight. Please enjoy. ☁️ Warning(s): Trigger Warning for Trauma, Mental Health Content, Violence, Graphic Imagery, Spoiler(s)☁️ Word Count: 2.6k ☁️: Authors Note: I am working on fanfics, more headcanons for Arkham Jason, unfortunately I am busy with classes, assignments and deadlines. I will try to be punctual but it may take time. Thank you for your understanding.

Introduction

Jason Todd is the secondary villain in Batman: Arkham Knight, which has the same moniker. He is the second Robin and Bruce Wayne's adoptive son.

Jason Peter Todd was born in the slums of Gotham City to two drug-addicted parents, who would eventually try to settle a debt they had by giving Jason away when he was a baby. Jason received no parental figure to help guide him, leading him to petty crimes such as theft to nourish his survival. Jason is a character who takes what he needs if it means prolonging his survival; his lack of a parental figure leads him to an identity crisis between longing for a parental figure and convincing himself he is better off without one. When the simple truth is that every human needs a mother and a father, we respond positively to a nurturing environment, and through early adolescence, our brains crave the structure needed to build us into well-rounded adults.

At fifteen, Jason inadvertently met Batman while committing robbery when Batman was fighting Gotham's notorious supervillain, The Joker. Believing Batman is in trouble, Jason jumps between pushing the hero from harm's way. Despite life's misfortunes, Jason possesses a remarkable code of morality enough to want to save someone. Jason, attempting to rid Joker of his breath, aims a pistol at the clown and, before firing, is knocked out of his hands by Batman's batarang. Unfortunately for him, Joker would leave Jason with a cryptic message, one for the young man to head.

Jason would later be apprehended and taken into custody in the back of a police car by Batman after Batman retrieved his gun and stolen money. However, rather than being charged, Jason receives a blessing through a Wayne Industries project that helped troubled teens; through the program, Jason was able to turn his life around. All attract the man who helped Jason find a new purpose: Bruce Wayne. Months after being released, Batman appeared in Jason's dorm, again offering Jason another opportunity.

2nd Robin and Kidnapping

Taking Jason in as his ward as well as dubbing him Robin after Dick Grayson, Jason sought justice and enjoyed being a hero. Like the previous Robin, he showed a keen aptitude for it; unlike his predecessor, he possessed a fiery temper and willingness for more lethal force. While Jason's temper is directed towards the criminals that harm the innocents, Batman views this as inexcusable, fearing the day that Jason will kill instead of reprimanding.

In the most twisted sense of irony, Jason's morality inevitably becomes his downfall. The Joker has blown up a school with kindergarteners; this leads to Jason's resolve that Joker needs to die. Knowing that Bruce would try to stop him, Jason abandons his comms and tracker so he can kill Joker. However, it is a trap, and Joker ambushes Jason. Jason was kept in a wheelchair, bonded by barbed wire that kept Jason leaning hunched over in excruciating pain. Throughout his pain, Jason's mind remained still; he was confident that Batman would find him; his sheer will at the beginning of his torture is, with all honesty, remarkable as Joker has been known for his mental abuse and mind games he plays with his victims including his sidekick, Harley Quinn.

In the six months of his torture, Jason's unwavering mental resolve was slowly crippling as Joker had wanted; throughout the game, Jason's voice mixed with crippling fear and small doubts about Batman coming. The Joker feeds into his doubts by showing him a photo of Batman with his replacement, Tim Drake. This leaves Jason troubled as he slowly loses hope for Batman.

The last act of Jason's torture involved a video sent to Batman via The Joker of Jason, who has undergone all his brainwashing; in the video, Jason is sitting down in a chair; he is not chained, barbed, handcuffed, or kept sitting still in any way by all means Jason could easily walk away. This is a significant and crucial part of Jason's torture as it symbolizes just how much mental anguish and emotional exhaustion Jason went through to the point that he no longer had a yearning for freedom—making him downright timid and submissive towards Joker enough to out Batman's identity when asked by the latter. This results in Joker shooting Jason point-blank in the chest, as Joker "never could stand a tattletale." However, this was only a ploy to make Batman believe Jason is genuinely dead.

On the contrary, Jason was kept alive for another year, endeavoring more torture, mistreatment, and malnourishment. Harley Quinn did the final touches of Jason's emotional and mental brainwashing; a former psychiatrist who manipulated Jason into believing that Batman was the cause of his anguish and his pain was his doing; she did this long enough, even punishing Jason by waterboarding him and electrocuting him when he refused to say Batman, indicating he still had some level of awareness of who was torturing him.

However, once Harley could get Jason to say Batman's name, Jason was drugged and beaten by two prisoners dressed like Batman; he was given a gun by The Joker and was ordered to kill them. Jason's resolve and humanity were a cord, still entrenched in him before Harley convinced him further, snapping his humanity and getting him to shoot the two dressed-up prisoners dead.

During the riots of Arkham Asylum, The Joker paid mercenary Deathstroke to keep Jason there and shoot him if he escaped. However, Jason convinces Deathstroke that Joker will not keep his promise and that if he helps, Jason will triple whatever Joker plans to pay. Accepting the offer, Deathstroke assists Jason in escaping, stealing a helicopter, and flying to Wayne Industries. Jason steals millions of dollars from his former guardian. Ironically, crossing paths with Tim Drake, who assumes Todd to be Deathstroke's sidekick, when Jason's ankle is caught between Tim's grappling hook, Jason cuts the cord, allowing Tim to fall when suggested by Deathstroke that killing Robin would bode well for them with the Dark Knight. Jason Coldy says that if he dies in a fall like that, Batman needs to pick his sidekicks better.

Jason's psyche has been torn and scattered, leaving him a hollowed carving with a mocking J branding etched onto his face, from birth his eyes were already met with darkness, born to parents who never showed him recognition, let alone love, and through the Wayne Industries Project and his adoption by Bruce his eyes were wide, and remarkably hopeful, to be free of the weight of Gotham's misfortunes finally; those eyes that looked with gleam forced shut until he saw nothing but blackness.

Arkham Knight's Birth

Jason adopts a new persona built on the pain and suffering in the wake of his escape from Joker. He feels betrayed by the one person he only had in the world and wants vengeance. Jason works alongside Scarecrow, one of Batman's enemies. The two begin a plan on Halloween to take Gotham and Batman's legacy along with it. Jason gathers all Batman's enemies to join, assembling a militia with Deathstroke. While working with each other, Scarecrow "tests" his fear toxin on the young man, sending him on a psychological spiral. One of his more apparent fears is the Joker, who can be found near, in the background, or standing right in front of him laughing and mocking him, but beyond the clown prince of crime's appearance, Jason also sees his replacement, Tim Drake, and "fights" him.

The fight has Jason severely outnumbered in the beginning, with Tim succeeding, even using his staff to choke Jason, forcing him to the ground as the Jokers around him laugh. Further into the fear toxin, Jason appears in front of Wayne Manor, where he throws down his helmet and says the following: "Someplace warm, someplace safe, someplace where I'm needed, someplace where I'm loved," Joker once again appears in front of him laughing and mocking him on whether he even deserves it, this is Jason's internal struggle in a manifested form of the person who caused him harm, of the person who convinced him from the start that he was alone and would not be saved. Jason is mischaracterized as always being angry or standoffish, but anger has more truth than any lie detector can scoop. Jason feels this anger is not just because of some personality trait; anger is his cry out, and he's shouting to be seen and loved. This is most likely due to being tortured at 15 or so, which, despite the fact that at the time of Arkham Knight, he was in his early 20s, his mental age was regressed to the age when he was captured. This makes Jason appear at first glance as someone emotional, cocky, and arrogant. He values safety and love; he doesn't want to be on his guard 24/7, but he's grown up in an environment where letting your guard down gets you killed. He follows Joker into Wayne Manor, where he sees Bruce; suddenly, several versions of Batman appear in the room. They beat him and told him they never wanted a partner or even a son. This is a conflict that has always waged war in Jason's mind. Jason's biological father attempted to give him up and then belittled him when he explained that Jason's worth was so low that he couldn't even leave him; he has low self-esteem that he internalizes into rage in the way that he fights to prove his strength.

This is why Jason has a strong attachment to Bruce/Batman it maybe due to an underlying desire to seek his approval especially by the time when he adopts him. Bruce gives him everything he could ask for and anything he could think of, and Batman gives him a purpose. Ironically, this is still the case despite Bruce himself having an avoidant attachment style.

Conclusion and Diagnosis

Jason Todd's character in "Batman: Arkham Knight" exhibits a complex interplay of psychological factors that align with the diagnostic criteria for Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). One prominent feature of BPD is emotional dysregulation, characterized by intense and rapidly shifting emotions. Jason displays various emotions throughout the game, from anger and hostility to vulnerability and despair. His reactions often appear exaggerated or disproportionate to the situation, indicating difficulty regulating his emotional responses.

Furthermore, Jason's sense of identity is notably unstable, which is another hallmark feature of BPD. Having grown up in a dysfunctional environment with absent parents, Jason lacks a stable sense of self and struggles to define his identity. This is evident in his adoption of various personas, including Robin, the Arkham Knight, and, later, the Red Hood. His shifting identities reflect a profound inner conflict and a desperate search for validation and purpose. Jason's interpersonal relationships also reflect the interpersonal instability characteristic of BPD. He forms intense and unstable attachments to figures such as Batman, vacillating between admiration and resentment. His interactions with other characters are marked by rapid shifts in perception, alternating between idealization and devaluation. For example, while Jason initially idolizes Batman as a mentor and father figure, his feelings of betrayal and abandonment lead to resentment and hostility towards him.

Moreover, Jason exhibits self-destructive behaviors as a coping mechanism for his emotional pain, another hallmark of BPD. He engages in reckless actions, disregarding his safety to seek vengeance against those he perceives as enemies. His confrontations with adversaries are often fueled by a desire for self-assertion and control, masking more profound feelings of emptiness and despair.

Underlying Jason's behaviors is a pervasive fear of abandonment, stemming from his traumatic upbringing and experiences of betrayal. This fear drives his desperate attempts to maintain connections with others, even as he pushes them away with his volatile and unpredictable behavior. Jason's fear of abandonment manifests in his interactions with Batman and the Bat family, where he oscillates between seeking their approval and rejecting their authority.

Jason Todd's character in "Batman: Arkham Knight" embodies many of the core features of Borderline Personality Disorder, including emotional dysregulation, identity disturbance, interpersonal instability, self-destructive behaviors, and a fear of abandonment. By analyzing his actions, relationships, and psychological struggles within the context of the game's narrative, it becomes apparent that Jason's character aligns closely with the diagnostic criteria for BPD, providing a compelling framework for understanding his complex and multifaceted personality.

Besides indicating various symptoms of BPD, I would also consider diagnosing Jason with Complex Post post-traumatic stress Disorder (C-PTSD). Given Jason's background of severe trauma, including childhood abuse, neglect, and prolonged torture at the hands of the Joker, it's worth considering Complex PTSD. C-PTSD typically develops in response to chronic trauma and is characterized by symptoms such as emotional dysregulation, disturbed self-concept, difficulties in relationships, and a persistent sense of threat. I would include diagnosing Jason with Major Depressive Disorder (MDD): Jason's experiences of profound loss, trauma, and betrayal may contribute to symptoms of depression, such as feelings of hopelessness, worthlessness, and a loss of interest in activities. His struggles with emotional regulation and chronic feelings of emptiness could also align with depressive symptoms. Following my diagnosis, I am also inclined to believe he suffers from attachment disorders; given Jason's tumultuous upbringing and experiences and a multitude of parental figures involving neglect and abandonment, it's possible that he may have developed attachment-related difficulties. This could manifest in insecure attachment styles, fear of abandonment, and challenges in forming and maintaining healthy relationships.

Furthermore, I would consider Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD): While Jason displays empathy and compassion at times, his willingness to engage in morally questionable or violent behavior, as well as his disregard for societal norms and rules, may align with some features of ASPD. However, his capacity for genuine care and loyalty makes this disorder out of sorts with his character.

Lastly, Post-Traumatic Embitterment Disorder (PTED): PTED is a proposed diagnostic category characterized by intense feelings of injustice, betrayal, and embitterment following a traumatic event or series of events. Jason's experiences of betrayal and abandonment, particularly by Batman and the Joker, may resonate with the symptoms of PTED.

In conclusion, the character of Jason Todd in "Batman: Arkham Knight" presents a compelling portrayal of psychological complexity shaped by a tumultuous history of trauma, betrayal, and profound loss. Through a comprehensive analysis of his experiences and behaviors throughout the game, it becomes evident that Jason embodies many psychological struggles, warranting consideration for various diagnostic possibilities. Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) emerges as a primary candidate, given Jason's emotional volatility, identity disturbances, and interpersonal difficulties. His tumultuous relationships, intense fear of abandonment, and self-destructive tendencies align closely with the diagnostic criteria for BPD. Furthermore, Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) offers another lens through which to understand Jason's psychological profile, considering his history of chronic trauma and its pervasive impact on his functioning.

Additionally, Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) may contribute to Jason's experiences of profound despair, hopelessness, and emotional emptiness. His struggles with attachment-related difficulties suggest the possibility of underlying attachment disorders stemming from his early experiences of neglect and abandonment.

While Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD) and Post-Traumatic Embitterment Disorder (PTED) offer alternative perspectives, they may not fully capture the complexity of Jason's character, given his capacity for empathy and genuine care, despite his propensity for morally questionable behavior.

In essence, Jason Todd's character in "Batman: Arkham Knight" is a poignant exploration of the human psyche's intricacies, illustrating the profound impact of trauma on identity, relationships, and emotional well-being. By delving into his psychological struggles within the context of the game's narrative, we gain valuable insights into the complexities of mental health and the enduring resilience of the human spirit.

#arkham knight #jason todd #red hood #headcanon #positive thoughts #psychology #psych student #arkham batman #psychological analysis #psyche student analyzes #jasonswh0rre

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transformers-nerd-13 · 5 months ago

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Can you do an analysis of Countdown to Extinction? That’s the only g1 episode that actually made me scared of Starscream. The whole thing with Arkeville was so messed up…

Ask and you shall receive! Here’s my analysis of Countdown to Extinction:

We start with a quick recap of what happened last time; the Decepticons brought Cybertron into Earth’s orbit in order to collect the energy that would be unleashed as a result of this (not sure if that’s how that works but okay), and even though they got Cybertron out of earth’s orbit (by blowing up the Decepticon’s new starship. Now I’m no mathematician but I don’t think an exploding starship would generate quite that much force) and the Decepticons were defeated, the world has been left in ruins.

The Autobots are helping to rebuild Earth. There’s a few shots of them helping to rebuild before we cut to the Decepticon starship which is now in the middle of the ocean somewhere.

Let me unpack this real quick: Number one; why do the Decepticons’ starships/bases somehow always end up in the ocean?? And Number two; You’re telling me, that your starship exploded, generated enough force to knock Cybertron out of Earth’s orbit and back to its admittedly probably not too far off corner of the galaxy, and your ship is still INTACT???

Ridiculous physics aside, we hear Rumble ask Skywarp if he can do anything right, to which Skywarp replies: “Watch it you metallic mini-meatball or I’ll step on you!” Which is one of my favorite lines from this show. “You and what army you maxi-turkey?” Rumble challenges. Skywarp kinda just…shoves him into a console which somehow fries said console.

Thundercracker tells them to shape up; they’ve still got a lot of damage to repair. Soundwave walks into frame and says “Look who’s talking Thundercracker.” This line doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me; they’re all working to repair the ship, Thundercracker used the word ‘we’ when he said they had a lot of damage to repair, so this just seems odd.

Thundercracker ignores Soundwave and instructs Rumble to start emptying the water pumps. (No idea why they have those.)

Frenzy crawls up from a hole in the floor (I believe this is Frenzy’s first appearance so that’s cool) complaining that he didn’t volunteer for this ‘geeky assignment’ (whatever that is) and that he wants Skywarp’s job (whatever that is). Skywarp tells him to butt out and that geek work is made for geeks like Frenzy as he tries to…step on the minicon for some reason. Frenzy proceeds to just. Throw Skywarp. I guess minicons have super strength??

Rumble takes a flying leap at Skywarp and sort of tackles him causing Skywarp to fall to the floor. Rumble hits Skywarp a few times while Soundwave just watches before Thundercracker pulls Rumble off of the purple Seeker. Megatron walks into the room demanding silence, and all of the cons in the room are all fairly surprised to see Megatron since they all thought he was dead. Megatron says he’s only lost a starship; not the war, and he has some unfinished business with Dr. Archevil (Ark-ee-ville)--I have no idea how to spell his name, I’m just guessing here. One of the two Skywarps who are now in the room tells him that the doctor is gone along with Starscream. “I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all.” Megatron says. And y’know what I can’t fault him for that one, seems like a reasonable concern.

Laserbeak flies in and Soundwave plays back a recording he took of Starscream telling Archevil that since Megatron is dead, he is now the leader of the Decepticons and commands him to take him to his lab; he has use for his other inventions. Megatron declares that they must stop those traitors and he and a small group of Decepticons go to find them.

Cut to the Autobots who’ve finally finished fixing up Teletraan One. For some reason Teletraan immediately shows Megatron and the small group of cons with him (legit no idea why it did this). Optimus says that they can’t let Megatron regroup with his Decepticons.

I hate to break this to you Optimus but it seems like he’s already regrouped with them man.

Cut to Starscream and Archevil arriving at Archevil’s lab. Starscream transforms and more or less yeets Archevil out of his alt mode, catching him by the back of his coat. (Also yeah those stairs are completely inconspicuous nobody would ever think there was anything behind that boulder, nope never). Archevil brags about how his lab is an ‘impenetrable fortress’ until he says a particular sentence that will open the door. Starscream commands him to open the door. “I, Doctor Archevil, genius of science, say ‘Open Sesame’!” Archevil says, and the door opens. “How original.” Starscream says sarcastically. Since the door didn’t open enough for Starscream to get in, he shoves Archevil to the side and throws the door-boulder off of a cliff that appeared from the void. He picks up the human and tells him that that’s just a small example of what happens when someone tries his patience.

Again this line doesn’t make sense to me. It feels like maybe Archevil had another line before this one that caused Starscream to react like that, but it might’ve been cut for time. Archevil might be annoying, sure, but he hasn’t done anything to warrant being picked up and threatened; in fact he’s been pretty compliant about all this.

Inside the lab, Starscream finds an invention that Archevil told him about; an Exponential Generator which is apparently the ultimate power source. Archevil warns him to be careful with it; if the generator’s pulse was interrupted, the earth and every living thing on it would cease to exist. What happens to the non living things? Are they not affected?? Also this seems like a really stupid thing to tell Starscream of all people about; like what does he think Starscream’s gonna do with it?? Starscream tells him that he doesn’t care about this minor planet.

Cut to the Autobots who’ve caught up with the Decepticons. Rumble warns Megatron about the Autobots and dives to attack, except no he doesn’t because in the next shot he’s still flying in formation with the other cons. Megatron instructs Thundercracker and Skywarp to stop the Autobots.

Cut back to Starscream and Archevil where the mad scientist is telling Starscream that whatever happens in his lab must be done under his supervision. Starscream tells him to have patience; he’s almost finished.

These lines felt a little clunky because we didn’t know Archevil was in another room; it would’ve been better if we got a shot of Archevil in the other room delivering that line; it’d just make it flow a bit better.

Starscream tells him that he can come in and he enters the room. Starscream tells him that he’s improved the generator by interfacing it with a timing device; when he flips the switch, it’ll begin generating power at infinite capacity, and flips the switch. Archevil protests, saying that if it goes up to infinite capacity, it’ll explode and destroy the entire earth. Starscream tells him that that’s the plan; in 7 hours, 58 minutes, and 20 seconds, the planet will explode into a cosmic shower of free energy. Archevil once again protests, but Starscream tells him that he has no say in the matter; when the planet is destroyed, he’ll be on Cybertron, collecting the resulting energy.

Again I must state my case that Cybertron CAN’T be that far from Earth.

The energy that Starscream collects will give him limitless power; enough to take over the universe. Archevil says that he’ll stay here to make sure that nothing goes wrong, but Starscream isn’t falling for it; besides, he has different plans for the scientist. He transforms, Archevil climbing inside, and the two take off. We get a look at the timer on the generator which now says 7:58: 19 and is counting down. You’re telling me y’all did all that in one second???

After the commercial break we re-establish what’s going on with Starscream and Archevil real quick before we cut back to the Autobots on earth. One of the Seeker’s missiles hits the side of a cliff and causes a small avalanche of rocks that bury Bumblebee. Brawn digs Bee out from the rocks and Optimus instructs the other Autobots to transform and take cover. Wheeljack and Ironhide want to fight however and Wheeljack fires his shoulder missile at Skywarp, hits him (miraculously), causing him to fall out of the sky. Megatron instructs the cons to land and attack.

(Also I have to call out how silly this looks; it's like Megatron is trying to jump-scare Optimus lol) A short battle ensues that ends when Optimus yeets Megatron into a lake and Megatron declares a retreat, claiming that the Autobots were too hero-programmed to know when to quit.

What does that even mean??

The Autobots pursue the cons.

Cut to Starscream who’s arrived on Cybertron. He and Archevil enter Shockwave’s lab, Starscream telling Shockwave that he’s here on a most urgent mission. Shockwave interrupts him, telling him that the earth creature (Archevil) isn’t allowed in his lab under Megatron’s orders. “Megatron is no more! I now lead the Decepticons!” Starscream declares, holding up a normal Decepticon badge like that’s supposed to signify him as the leader. Shockwave says what we’re all thinking: “WHAT?!”. Starscream, giving a thumbs down for some reason, explains that when his starship exploded, Megatron entered oblivion. Shockwave says that’s impossible; Megatron is indestructible! “Why don’t you contact him, Shockwave?” Starscream challenges, to which Shockwave replies that he can’t get through; interference in the field (idk what field he’s talking about) has made outside communication impossible, but he assures Starscream that he’s going to keep trying. Starscream tells him that from now on, he’ll take orders from him, and his first order is no further attempts at contacting earth. At first, Shockwave ignores him and turns back to the monitor, but after Starscream fires a warning shot, Shockwave backs down and agrees defeatedly.

Has he forgotten he has a cannon on his arm or??

Starscream tells him that they must begin setting up energy collectors; in less than 3 earth hours, they would be receiving energy from a limitless new source.

So it took you 4 hours to get here? In your alt mode? Again, Earth and Cybertron CANNOT be that far apart and if the Decepticons can fly they could just, y’know, use their flight capabilities to go back to Cybertron once they collect their energy. I feel like they’re needlessly over complicating things for themselves with starships and ground bridges.

Starscream tells Archevil that he should feel honored as the only member of his race to survive his planet’s destruction. He declares that everything is ready and walks away. Archevil messes with the controls saying that while he may not be able to save the earth, he could prevent Starscream from taking the energy produced by its destruction. But before he can do much (if anything at all), he’s electrocuted. Starscream comes back into frame and laughs at him, calling him a fool, telling him that only a Decepticon can touch the controls when sentry mode is on.

Seems like a weird sentry mode but okay.

Starscream tells someone off screen to take Archevil to the repair bay. Reflector (who’s appeared from the void) does as Starscream tells them to do. Starscream says that Archevil must not have another chance to interfere with his plans.

Meanwhile, back on earth, Skywarp notices that the Decepticons are moving up their flight pattern. Megatron tells him that it’s because they’re headed for a scenic little place called ‘The Valley of No Return’.

That’s not ominous at all.

Rumble asks him why they’re going sightseeing, and Megatron tells him they’re not, but the Autobots will see something they’ll never forget. The Autobots–who’ve been tailing the cons this whole time–get suspicious that something’s wrong and find themselves in quicksand. In a desert. Why not?

Optimus tells them to transform. Megatron mocks them before telling Laserbeak to stay behind and make sure all of the Autobots went under before rejoining them.

This is a dumb plan for several reasons, but the top two reasons are that one: when you reach equilibrium in quicksand, you bob like a cork; you float. And two: even if they did fully sink, Autobots don’t need to breathe, so they’re just stuck down there, which is annoying sure, but they’re not going to die because of it.

Optimus tells Megatron that it’s not over yet. Megatron tells him that it will be before he and all the other cons (except Laserbeak) leave. Optimus asks Ironhide if he could shoot super cooled liquid nitrogen into the quicksand (idk why this would help but okay) and Ironhide tells him he might be able to if he could get an arm free. Laserbeak divebombs them for some reason and Mirage fires his shoulder cannon at Laserbeak, miraculously hitting him (apparently they have better aim with shoulder cannons than blasters), causing him to turn into his cassette mode for some reason, and Jazz catches him. Optimus commends them for a job well done and asks Ironhide if he’s having any luck. Ironhide gets his arm free and shoots liquid nitrogen at the quicksand which causes it to harden and allows them to get free (idk if that’s how that works but okay).

“Hey Optimus, how would you like to hear number one on the Decepticon hot cassette charts?” Jazz offers, holding up Laserbeak who’s still in his cassette mode. “As I believe the earthings say, lay it on me man!” Optimus replies.

This is one of the best interactions in the whole show; change my mind.

Jazz transforms and plays back the recording we heard of Starscream and Archevil earlier (because Jazz can apparently play back cassettes too??) They transform and head towards Archevil’s lab because they somehow know where that is. How, idk.

Cut to the Decepticons arriving at Archevil’s lab, finding the Exponential Generator. We get a look at the timer which now has just under 2 hours remaining. Rumble warns Megatron that the Autobots are here; Megatron says that’s impossible (press x to doubt) and Thundercracker tells him not to worry; “We’ll make them regret un-dooming themselves.”

The cons head outside and Megatron looks around for a second before Optimus uppercuts him in the jaw saying: “Hello again Megatron!”

How did Megatron not see him–

Megatron throws a rock at Optimus, but misses and instead hits Rumble. Optimus laughs and tells Megatron that his aim is getting better.

(Insert Stan Pines "my ex wife still misses me, but her aim is getting better" here) Sorry I had to. No I’m not a G1 Megaop shipper but this fits too well not to include.

Anyways, we cut back to Cybertron where Archevil is waking up from his time in the repair bay. Starscream tells him to forgive the cruel work of the droids; he’s not pretty, but he’s functional.

We see Archevil is now half made of robot parts. This is actually kind of a terrifying shot. We can see just how far Starscream is willing to go; he's willing to kill everything and everyone on Earth, and he turns Archevil into a monster in order to make sure he can't interfere with his plans. He could've let him die, but he instead chose to make sure that he would live, and would be helpless to do anything but watch. And Starscream grins. ....God Starscream is a dick. Archevil shouts that Starscream’s turned him into a mechanical freak, to which Starscream replies that he was heavily damaged by the sentry monitor and he should be grateful that he exists at all. Archevil tells him that he can’t move, but Starscream ignores him, telling him that he should rest; he’s probably exhausted from interfering with his affairs.

Meanwhile, Optimus has made his way into the lab and found the generator. Megatron threatens to fire at him, telling him to get away from it. Optimus says that Megatron isn’t foolish enough to shoot him while he’s standing in front of the generator, but Megatron tells him that he always hits what he aims for (press x to doubt). We see the timer again and now there’s just under a minute left. Optimus tells Megatron that the generator is in an unstable condition. Megatron tells the other cons in the lab to leave before he gets a call from Shockwave, telling him to disconnect the detonator on the Exponential Generator because it’s going to explode any astro-second. With 2 seconds left on the timer, Megatron removes the detonator. Shockwave sounds very concerned, asking if Megatron is still there; Megatron assures him that he’s still there and that everything is under control. I was actually surprised to hear Shockwave sound so concerned since I'm used to him being, y'know, emotionless. I don't have a lot to say on this other than it jump-scared me a little bit lol. He asks Shockwave where Starscream is and Shockwave tells him he’s on Cybertron and informs him of Starscream’s plan to destroy the earth. Megatron is pissed to say the least.

Meanwhile, Starscream is wondering why the planet hasn’t exploded and chalks it up to a malfunction in the timer. Starscream instructs Archevil to go to earth and check it out, but Archevil reminds him that he can’t get there even if he wanted to with his new robotic body, and that Starscream is the only one who knows how the timing device works. Starscream heads back to earth.

Meanwhile Megatron is doing something with the generator which has melted a bit of his plating. Optimus tackles him for the generator and the two wrestle for it. Optimus says to be careful with the generator since it was at a critical state.

Then WHY DID YOU TACKLE HIM FOR THE GENERATOR???

Optimus says the generator is going to explode. “Not here if I can help it!” Megatron says, getting to his feet, picking up the generator and runing outside. He tells Optimus there’s no time to argue even though he’s not arguing with this. He transforms into his gun mode and lets Optimus wield him as they fire the generator out into space where it hits Starscream and explodes.

For something that was supposed to be able to destroy the earth that was a pretty lackluster explosion.

Starscream crashes and Megatron finds him. Starscream fumbles for words, saying that he was sure—everyone was sure–that Megatron was dead. Megatron picks him up.

Cut to later where the autobots are driving home. Bumblebee asks Optimus what he thinks Megatron is going to do to Starscream, to which Optimus replies: “Nothing gentle I would say.” To which all the other Autobots laugh. “We’ve seen the last of old Starcreep alright, and that’s the first thing that’s gone right all day.” Jazz says.

And that was Countdown to extinction. While it still had all the wacky hijinks that come with being an 80's cartoon, it definitely felt a bit more serious. The stakes were of course ridiculous, but Starscream felt like a genuine threat throughout the episode. He felt, dare I say, more of a threat than Megatron. Megatron is dangerous, yes, but his plans don't usually include destroying the earth, and when they do, it's accidental and usually tries to prevent it which I find interesting. Anyways, I did a poll a while ago for which G1 episodes I should analyze, but it's pretty out of date now so I'll be putting up a new one pretty soon after I post this. Have a good day! :)

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