#and it's made me so self-conscious about how often i talk about my own fics lol

[oflights]

do you have any fandom resolutions for the new year?

hmmmm. good question!!

i say this every year but i want to get better about commenting, always, and also about reccing?? i'm very weird about reccing because when i see something being recced a lot i'm sort of like "oh, there's no need for me talk about it" even when i genuinely loved it and think people should read it lol. and while i think there's a lot of merit to not reccing the same exact fics as everyone else over and over again, that also just results in me...not doing a lot of recs, even though i have a huge bookmarks folder of recs!

so there's a fandom resolution: more transparency as a reader!!

also getting through my already insane to-write list without getting burnt out. somehow.

[flyiingsly]

The Jedi and the Captain

Square : Jedi

Pairing : Howzer x f!jedi!reader

Warnings : Violence, a lot of angst, mention of the Order 66, implied PTSD, reader being strangled, this one is really dark and not fun at all

Wordcount : 3,3K

Summary : After rescuing Howzer and his men from the Empire's ship, you decided to pay them a visit to make sure that they are fine. But when he realizes what you are, the clone Captain suddenly turns into an unexpected menace for you.

A/N : Here is my sixth submission for the @clonexreaderbingo ! Well, I’ve broke my own heart writing this, but I’m happy about how it turned out. Since the beginning I was thinking about giving this fic a sequel, I’ll probably figure it out after submitting all of my CFB’s works. So don’t hesitate to tell me if you’re interested in reading more about what will happen next between these two ! 😊

Disclaimer : I'm still struggling to understand English grammar properly, English is not my native language and even if I have proofread my writtings several times, there is probably still typos in it. I'm very self conscious about it and I apologize for it in advance, but I'm doing my best to do better and I'm actively working at improving my writting skills !

So if you spot a typo, feel free to point it to me so I can correct it, it will be much appreciated :)

After addressing your report about the mission to Rex, you came back to the hangar to check on the men you had just rescued. When you arrived, you could see from afar that Echo and Senator Chuchi were already here, talking to one of them.

She was an old friend of yours who you became close to during the War. You’ve reconnected with her since you had joined Rex’s resistance network with Echo, for she was still sitting at the Senate and sharing the same concern as you about the fate of the clones, and was willing to defend their cause.

The men were sat in a corner, their backs against some containers, talking with Gregor and sharing a comforting cup of caf. They were looking exhausted and distraught. They had probably spent months trapped in a prison cell and the mercy of the Empire, wondering what was going to happen to them. It broke your heart to think about it. You stay here, staring at them for a few seconds before a call pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, (y/n) !” you turn your head at Gregor’s voice, who has get up from the container he was sat on to come to meet you, “Come here, we need to introduce you properly to our guests !”

You headed toward him, and as you get closer, you noticed that the man who the Senator was talking to was a familiar face. You had seen thousands and thousands of clones while fighting among them for the Republic, thousands and thousands of men sharing the same face, but you had always been able to tell them apart. Even without specifics tattoos or marks on their armor, they all had a unique force signature that helped you recognize each one of them. But him, despite his peculiar force signature, was easily identifiable by his haircut and scar on his left cheek.

“Captain, this is (y/n), one of Rex’s most valuable agent ! (y/n), I present to you Captain Howzer !” Gregor exclaims.

“Sir !” you saluted him respectfully, “I’m glad we finally have you and your men here all safe and sound, Sir.”

Of course, he was familiar … You had met him on Ryloth before, on another rescue mission that wasn’t supposed to be a rescue mission in the first place. Things didn’t go as planned this day, as often with the Batch, but neither you nor the other could resigned to let a child alone and frightened, desperately needing her parents back. You made the right choice that day, but unfortunately, your actions were the reason that led Howzer and his men to get arrested and imprisoned by the Empire. You were mostly responsible of their situation, and you knew it.

“Thank you so much for rescuing us” he lets out, looking at both Echo and you, “we owe you our lives, we’ll probably be dead by now if you hadn’t found us …”

Those profounds dark brown pupils were easily recognizable. You recalled coming across them right before you could escape from the Empire's prison. You had your helmet on, so he probably didn’t realize that you were looking at him right in the eyes back then, but still, you were.

It was at that moment that he decided to not stop you from escaping with prisoners. That moment he finally understood that what had been done with the Syndulla family wasn’t right, that it wasn’t what he was supposed to be here and to fight for. It was the very precise moment when he decided to regain his free will and step up against the Empire for the sake of what he used to believe in. His eyes were so clouded and solemn, they seemed to carry so much weight, so much guilt. He must have already understood what was coming for him after that.

You couldn’t help but replay those memories when his gaze met yours again. Except that this time, he could see your face.

“Actually, we already met each other before …” Echo speaks carefully, causing the Captain to look at him with curiosity, “On Ryloth.”

The connection was made pretty quickly in his head.

“Indeed, now that you say it”, he replies thoughtfully, “how could I forget, you were one of those who freed Sham Syndulla …”

You instantly started to feel bad about it, and you could tell that Echo was embarrassed too. Howzer noticed it, for he gave him a kind and reassuring smile.

“I know what you think about, but it’s okay, don’t worry. You had taken the right decision and choose the right path, something I should have done long before too … I was skeptical about the Empire methods for some time to be honest, but crossing your road definitely made me open my eyes … It was some hard times for all of us for sure, but it had to be done …”

He seemed lost in thought for a few moments, taking his time to process the situation. A strange silence fell over the fifth of you. Memories from Ryloth were still washing over your mind, not only from the last time you went there, but from your previous missions on the planet during the Clone Wars as well. Every of your missions with the Batch reminded you of another previous one from back in the days, and you couldn’t help it.

Then, suddenly, you started to feel something strange, some sort of great disturbance in the Force that you couldn’t explain. Something was wrong.

Like if some serious realization had just hit him, his glance landed on you, and he started to insistently staring at you, examining you meticulously. His brows furrowed, and he seemed surprised and confused.

“Wait, you were on Ryloth too, right ? I’ve recognized your armor, and your voice …” his words break the silence as his eyes locked with yours again, but more intensively than before.

“Yes, I was …” you answer hesitantly.

You could feel that something was off with him, something had abruptly changed in the way he was looking at you.

“But you’re not a clone …”

Your entire body began to tense as you could guess what words were coming next. You knew, by the way his eyes were starting to shimmer, that he will soon be coming at a conclusion about what you are. A shiver ran through your spine, his eyes had become darker, and his glare was piercing through you like arrows. He wasn’t himself anymore. You flinched, trying to anticipate his next move, hands ready to defend yourself.

“… I saw what you did earlier, when we were escaping the ship …”

He took a step toward you.

You started to internally panic, you could swear that his body was starting to shake. Echo and Gregor became tensed too, and you caught an expression of incomprehensibility and concern growing on the Senator’s face.  

Everyone around knew that him and his men still had their chips on. You were frightened. Since the incident with Wrecker on Bracca, no other clone had tried to attack you, even when they still had their chips on. You and Rex had started to think that maybe their effects were declining over time, and that maybe they weren’t really functioning anymore.

Rex had managed to come back to the junkyard planet to collect the scanner and surgical instruments from the abandoned medbay, so he’ll be able to free his men and recues from this awful burden, just in case it could still be active in some way. But even before the extraction, none of them had ever been violent or menacing toward you. You used to feel safe around them.

But right now, all you wanted to do was disappear, to step backward, to turn back and run away from that situation that seemed doomed to end badly. But you couldn’t move any of your limbs, you were completely petrified. Your heartbeat accelerated, and your breath became more ragged.

“… I know what you are …” he whispers aggressively.

He took another step toward you, silent. He was now just inches from your face, still looking at you right in the eyes. He was so close, he was so handsome. You had saw that face so many times that you knew every detail of it, but you still found it as attractive as the first encounter. It was like staring at every one of those you had loved, then lost. It was heart wrenching and beautiful at the same time.

“Howser, please, calm down …” you hear Gregor says as calmly as possible, but nervousness was still palpable in his intonation.

“It’s ok, don’t worry, I got this” you cut him with the same calm, trying to keep your own voice from stuttering.

Nobody around seemed able to move neither. Everyone seemed like crushed under the weight of the tension. You saw Gregor’s hand slowly reaching for his blaster at the corner of your eye, and Echo gesturing to the Senator to stay behind him. No, you thought, you didn’t want anyone else to get involved into this, you didn’t want more injuries, more suffering, more panic, you just wanted everyone to be safe in this place, like it had always been.

You wanted to escape, but you were too mesmerized by those eyes, and still tetanized by fear. You had already seen that expression before, that look of pure hate and anger, how could you forget … Flashbacks came back to your mind. Flashbacks from the moment when everything changed, flashbacks of the incomprehension, flashbacks of the terror and despair, flashbacks of the Order.

“You shouldn’t even still be alive, you’re a traitor !”

You felt his breaking point becoming closer as his body prepared to take his final step toward you, and then, in a flash, he was on you, reaching for your neck with both of his hands.

“No !” Echo screams, jumping toward you, while Gregor had grabbed his blaster, pointing it at Howzer.

No, you thought again, no more suffering, no more fight, no more brothers hurting each other, not again. What happened with Wrecker was still vivid in your mind, and you didn’t want to go through that again. It was between you and him now.

You pushed them back and disarmed Gregor with the force, keeping Howzer out of their reach, preventing anyone to get injured. His hands were like ferocious claws around your soft skin, squeezing it with all of his strength.

You didn’t even try to fight him, but placed your hands on both sides of his head, which he didn’t seemed to notice in his rage. You were suffocating, but did your best to remain focused. You always had that special ability to ease people’s minds when they were troubled, to influence and calm their emotions. It was a real gift on battlefields to soothe panicking injured soldiers. You wanted to use it on Wrecker, but you didn’t get the chance to, for he was too strong and impossible to control, you couldn’t get close enough from him. You had no idea if it was going to work, but you had to, at least, try.

You kept your eyes planted in his, energy flowing through the palms of your hands. You were absolutely frightened. You could feel the beating of your heart ringing through your ears. It was so loud you barely heard Echo yelling your name. Your vision started to blur and your limbs started to feel numb, your whole body was feeling weak and fragile.

This is it, you though, this is how it’s going to end, by the hands of one of those you considered as your family, trying to make him regain his mind. You instinctively gasp for oxygen, but it was pointless. You felt lost, and on the edge of fainting, but in a last rush of adrenaline, with a pleading look and what was left of air in your lungs, you managed to find enough strength to breath out a couple of last words.

“Please … You … don’t have to … follow orders anymore … you … are free now …”

To hear your voice again, even barely audible, worked like an electroshock on him. You saw the exact moment when his mind switched back to reality. You caught a flicker in his pupils, the light coming back to scare away the darkness.

You felt his sudden realization of what he had just done, and you heart broke when you noticed the tears slowly forming in his eyes. His grip around your neck slowly loosened up, allowing you to finally take a deep live-saving breath before collapsing on the ground, coughing and shaking, your legs unable to support you anymore.

“What have I done ?  I’m sorry ! I’m so sorry !” he screams, before falling to his knees right in front of you, sobbing uncontrollably.

Without even thinking about it, you were picking yourself up from the cold concrete to get closer to him, pulling him in a tight and comforting embrace, as Echo and Gregor were hurrying toward you, an alarmed expression on their faces.

“(y/n) ! Are you okay ?” the Arc Trooper asks you, in a complete state of panic.

“It’s ok, I’m ok …” you answered, giving him a nod and a reassuring look to let him know that you had the situation under control now. He immediately understood and stopped in his tracks, keeping Gregor from getting closer.

“I’m a monster …” you hear Howzer mutters between his clenched teeth. You felt so bad for him that you could barely retain your own tears anymore.

“Don’t say that, please” you whisper, trying to calm him down as violent shivers were washing over his body, and trying to prevent your voice from breaking, “it’s not your fault.”

He didn’t answered, unable to speak anymore. You were only wearing the bottom of your armor, and he had grabbed your shoulders by sliding his arms under yours, and was holding on to them so firmly that you thought that his fingers were going to pass through the fabric of your blacks.

There was a moment of hesitation when nobody in the hangar was moving or talking, not knowing what to do, stunned by what they had just witnessed. All you could catch was Senator Chuchi leaving the hangar, escorted by Pantoran guards, a devastated expression on her face, and a glimpse of Gregor and Echo’s muffled conversation.

“We need to bring him to the operating room, he needs to have his chip removed as soon as possible, he’s a danger …” Gregor lets out with concern in his voice.

“Can we at least let him a few moment to calm down ? He looks traumatized, he probably has no idea of what had just happened to him, we’ll need to explain it to him, but right now he’s not ready at all.”

A few second of silence passed over them, then the commando finally answered.

“You’re right, we’re gonna bring him to see a medic first, he’ll probably need a few sedatives after that ...”

A lump grew in your throat as you heard their steps coming toward you.

“(y/n) ?”

You raised your head to look at them, Echo’s gaze was heavy on you.

“You need to let him go, we’re gonna take him to the dispensary.”

“I know, just let us a few more seconds, please.”

He nodded, then turned his head toward two clones standing nearby, gesturing to them to come closer.

“Hey”, you whisper to Howzer, pulling him off of you softly so you can see his face. He looked at you with watery eyes and a desperate look, still attached to your shoulders as you settled your hands on his, gently stroking them.

“I know you’re frightened and confused, but you’re gonna be ok, we’re going to help you, I promise. You’re gonna be taken to the medbay, you need to be examinate, the medics will explain to you what had just happened and why it happened. But don’t be afraid, nobody will judge you for that, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m so sorry General …” he breathes out with a trembling voice. You could feel that he was starting to calm down as his hands slowly untightened from your shoulders and fell on his lap.

“You don’t have to, Captain, I’m not mad at you, and I don’t blame you for anything, I just want you to feel better, and you will, right ?”

“Right, General, thank you.”

“Let’s go then.”

You get up on your feet, offering him your hand to help him stand up. He took it, but he lost his balance, and you had to catch him to prevent him from falling back on the ground. He seemed exhausted, and soon, one of the men that Echo had previously called took your place to help support him.

“We need to go, Captain, I’ll come with you.” Gregor tells him.

“Yes sir …” he murmurs, before looking back at you, “General, will I … Will I see you again ?”

His voice was low and hesitant, like if he was ashamed of what he was asking, and afraid of the answer, but desperately needed to know at the same time. You weren’t expecting that, and it make your heart skipped a beat.

“Of course, as soon as the medics will allow me to visit you, don’t worry about that.” You answered with a soft smile.

“Thanks General.”

Then the two clones led him out of the hangar, closely followed by Gregor, who gave you another concerned look. You answered with a nod, meaning that you were fine, and keep watching them until they were out of sight. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even noticed Echo getting closer and nearly jumped when his hand settled on your shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t meant to scare you, are you okay ? You’re shaking …” he asks worryingly.

It took you a moment to be able to answer, you were still in shock and processing what had just happened. You absent mindlessly bring your hand to your throat, rubbing it to get rid of the persistent feeling of being strangled, eyes still riveted on the hangar door.

“Yeah, I think that I am, I’m just … I’m just worried about him … It’s the first time that this kind of thing happen since we’ve started the rescues. I was so sure that the effects of the chips had faded, I wasn’t expecting … That.”

“I know, none of us really were, I think … But don’t worry, he’ll be fine once his chip will be gone. He’s going to have a hard time accepting what he did, but I’m sure you’ll find the right words to help him. But for now you need to rest, our last mission was difficult and you need to take some time to recover, don’t you think ?”

You finally looked at him, meeting his gaze. He was sincerely worried about you, and you knew that the said last mission had exhausted him as much as you.

“Yeah, you’re right, and I think that you need some rest too.”

“I can’t deny it … I think that we both deserve a good nap now.” he chuckles.

You smiled at him, you were so glad to have him around in these hard times.

“We do, but I’ll take a shower first !”

As you were both heading toward your quarters, you couldn’t help but keep thinking about the desperate look Howzer gave you while being carried away, and you promised to yourself that you’ll be by his side when he’ll woke up from his surgery.

[cookinguptales]

I almost wrote a small essay in the tags of that "fanwork as content" post but realized that it would probably be better off as its own post. So now it's... a large, rambling essay. lmao

Like... to preface, AO3 is great, it's a great resource for fandom, it feels good to have a centralized location that works well. That said, there has been a steady decline in how I've felt treated as an author since we switched to an archive-only model of fic.

For people who are newer to fandom, pre-AO3 (and even in the early days of AO3), people often crossposted fic. Sometimes to websites, sometimes to journals (particularly LJ/DW), sometimes to communities, sometimes to kink memes...

AO3, while certainly one of the primary places you could upload stuff, wasn't necessarily where you would get most of your primary interaction about your fic. It was always designed to be an archive, not a social media site.

But since we moved to an archive model (and away from LJ/DW) I've noticed that fic gets almost no traction on sites that actually are intended for social interaction. I'm not saying it's easy for any creator in fandom, but god. The numbers on fic posts are just downright demoralizing.

I don't mean to sound arrogant here, but I think I'm a pretty good writer. People seem to really connect with my fic. In multiple fandoms, I've written fic that most people have read and enjoyed, to the point where people have just taken it for granted that if someone reads fic in the fandom, they've probably read something I've written.

All this is to say, I know I've written fics that people like. I know I've written fics that people connect with. And I know those posts still only get like 5 notes sometimes on Tumblr.

I'm proud of my work and I'm happy that it's gotten such a warm welcome on AO3!!! But there are times when I feel like all this means that I could write literally the best fic on earth and still no one would talk to me. People still wouldn't want to interact with me on social media sites.

I wrestled for... honestly, a long time with all this. I had a hard time putting into words why this felt so uh. Bad. Was I just self-conscious about my own writing? Yes, but that's a separate issue. Was I just jealous of others' popularity? Sort of, but it went deeper than that.

I had an issue with a fandom that I don't write in anymore. I got a lot of fanart based on my fic, which was great, which was amazing, there were even fan comics made. Visual media travels better on social media than fic. That's just a fact. And I had to watch as repeatedly, art based on the fic I wrote got thousands of notes while my fic got maybe 12. And I realized the power of social media vs. AO3 because it did get to audiences that weren't familiar with my fic and people started to give those artists credit for my ideas.

I remember watching the tags of those posts because it was occasionally the only way I'd hear feedback on what I'd written (imagine getting one comment and 5 notes on a fic, then seeing dozens of people in the tags of fanart saying that it was their favorite fic in the fandom! it was weird!) and seeing the tags gradually devolve into "oh, this is such a neat idea for an AU, artist OP" or "wow this dialogue is perfect [artist] I love it" and like

It's weird to feel so happy because so many people are enjoying your work in a transformative way but also so unhappy because you have been completely removed from the equation. No one... even knows you wrote those things anymore. You have been removed in favor of a more "marketable" version of your work.

It's uh. It's a bad feeling. I stopped writing in that fandom eventually.

So again, I felt like... idk, like there was no point in me even trying. Because I could write the best fic on earth and still somehow get erased as a person. People would want my "content," but they wouldn't want me.

I think that's what hurt my feelings so much.

What I've realized is this: what I miss is the sense of community. On LJ, you could post a fic, cross-post it to a community, and there would be comments that would become conversations that would become lasting friendships. Not always! But often. I still talk to some people daily who I met through fic on LJ over a decade ago.

In the archive model, there has almost become a death of the author. The me on social media and the me on AO3 are very different; more importantly, it's almost like it's viewed as the "me" is on social media, but the work is on AO3. I am absent. There is only the fic, not the person who created it.

And that's okay, but when you try to combine those two things on social media and it goes over like a lead balloon... idk. There's an odd sense of dehumanization. I don't mean it in like... I don't know, a dramatic human rights violation kind of way. More that I literally feel like less of a human person the way I interact with fandom these days. Like I'm no longer a person who writes fic as a way to connect with my fellow fans and more a "content creator" whose human side is separate from my creation and never the twain shall meet.

(And I'll admit it feels especially galling to be forced into the capitalistic "content creator" box when it's not even a thing I can make money off of, lmao. It's like the worst of both worlds. I feel like if I can't make money off fanfic, I should at least be exempt from capitalistic social trends during its creation.)

I'm not so much complaining about my current fandom; WWDITS has actually been one of the best fandoms for interaction I've been in since the birth of AO3. That's one of the reasons I keep writing stories for fellow fans to read -- many of those fans feel like my friends, and I want to make them happy.

I think that poster was right when they talked about how the pivot from fan to "content creator" has fucked up fandom. There is this sense that we should be treating fandom like a job, often a fast-paced one with no pay. There is this idea that we should be separated from our "content" like you might a worker from their product, and blah blah blah alienation of labor, Marx, I get it, but damn if that isn't a shitty thing to do to your fellow fans who are making art for the love of art.

There are so many things I do love about AO3. I like having a central, organized place to put my fic. I like not having to worry about my work being lost to the ages. I like having an organized comments section I can return to on bad days to cheer myself up.

But I don't like the way that fic has kind of been relegated to a portion of fandom where people aren't particularly social. I don't like the way that authors are separated from their writing. I hear people complain sometimes about A/Ns because god forbid an author leave any trace of their actual personality to distract you from their content.

I can't have DMs with someone on AO3. I can't add someone to my friends list. There are no "beloved mutuals." There is just my work and the people who are kind enough to comment on it, even if they never actually engage with me elsewhere.

It's... a weird feeling, to feel so loved and unloved at the same time. Like you keep writing trying to make something good enough that people will talk to you but like. That's really not how it works. lmao. The best fic in the world won't make you friends anymore. It won't make people see you as a fellow fan rather than a pen name under a title.

My fic is some of the most personal stuff in the entire world, but my personhood is stripped away from it. It's so fucking weird. People like my fic, but they don't like me. They remember my stories but not the person who told them. It's bizarre. It feels like having your life and experiences strip-mined for content, and then the rest of it is just... left behind.

Frankly... I work in the publishing industry IRL and I have had opportunities to write professionally. Real, tangible opportunities. But I turned them down because I've seen it, the way that trying to fit such an intensely personal art form into a capitalistic framework can be exhausting, dehumanizing, and stressful. I don't want that for my work. Fandom has always been an escape from that.

But now fandom is starting to conform to those exact same capitalistic frameworks (and ofc without any kind of capitalistic compensation) and I hate to see it. It's so stressful. I feel like we're losing a lot of what makes fandom fun for writers and we're getting pretty much nothing in return. I'm not surprised that so many writer friends I know in fandom have quit.

like damn, I just wanna have fun with a bunch of dumbshits who love to overanalyze vampires and cry over their dumbshit shenanigans, not take on a second job. one that, I reiterate, I am not being paid for.

(Note: I am not asking for payment, just that I not be treated like a worker. The tradeoff for treating someone like a worker is that they get compensated for it. If I'm not being compensated, no one gets to treat me like this is my fucking job.)

It's a weird thing, because for a lot of people, fandom has become their job. Fanartists at cons selling fanart, youtube essayists making money off videos, professional cosplayers with sponsorships, etc. And so fandom is becoming more corporate, more capitalistic, more marketable. It's frustrating for those who don't want to capitalize on our fannish output, and doubly frustrating for people who are legally unable to do so.

I'm realizing as I write this that I'm most upset about the nonconsensual capitalization of fandom, particularly when imposed on people who are unable to access the very meager benefits of capitalism. I didn't ask for any of this!

Feels like when I'd be forced to go to assemblies for the US military when I was in high school. Like I'm morally opposed to all this but I'm also not physically fit for "service" anyway, so it's doubly insulting. I feel like I've been opted into the, ah, corporatization of fandom when I'm not even eligible for employee benefits. None of this should even apply to me! ;;

Okay!! I'm all het up now so I'm gonna go eat lunch and go for a walk! No monetization of hobbies, only trees.

[spencerlouis]

Can you do one with chubby chef Louis and Harry who is gaining weight from all the food Louis cooks. When he notices he starts staying out late at night at the gym etc. just not giving much attention to Louis so Louis thinks it’s due to his own weight ?

Louis pulled the dinner he had made out of the oven and placed it on the counter. He had worked really hard on it, but Harry should have been home by now. He sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter, grabbing one of the shortbread cookies he had made. As he munched on the delicious cookie his thoughts wandered. Why had Harry been staying out so much lately? And even when he was here, he was distant. 

As Louis thought, his eyes turned down to his protruding stomach. He put his hand on it and squeezed the excess flesh. His cheeks flushed, Louis had always been self-conscious of his weight. Especially because he was heavier than average and much pudgier than his fit boyfriend. Louis was also aware of the fact that he had put on some more pounds recently. 

Harry had always assured Louis he adored his body. But recently… he didn't really touch him, and Louis couldn’t help but think it was because of his recent weight gain. Harry didn’t fondle his belly anymore, or squeeze his thighs, or cup his chubby cheeks. Louis had felt so big lately, too big. The other night he had sat on Harry’s lap like he often did, but this time Harry had tensed and quickly made an excuse to get up. Louis felt stupid for being upset, it wasn’t Harry’s fault he had gotten to heavy to be held by him. It was his own fault, and here he was stuffing his face again. 

Louis was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the door opening and Harry throwing his keys on the entrance table.

“Hey, Lou.”

“Harry! Where were you?” Louis asked, walking over. 

Harry chuckled, “just at the gym with some friends.”

“Oh.” Louis felt embarrassment course through him at the thought of Harry working out with all his fit friends, but he brushed it aside and pulled Harry in for a hug. Harry tensed before awkwardly hugging Louis and pulling back. Louis felt his heartbreak as he noticed Harry glance at how Louis’ stomach pudged out and touched his. 

Louis pulled away and tried to discreetly hide his round tummy. “I, um, I made dinner.”

Louis served himself and let Harry choose what he wanted. He was embarrassed when Harry had less than him on his plate, he tried to subtly put some back but Harry caught him. 

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, confusion shining in his eyes. 

Louis froze, “I uh, I think I might have taken a bit too much.”

Harry eyed Louis’ plate, “But, that’s about how much you normally eat.” 

Louis felt his face heat up as he ducked his head, embarrassment coursing through him. 

Concern filled Harry at the heartbroken look on Louis’ face. “Hey, Lou, tell me what’s wrong.”

Louis was silent for a few moments before taking a deep breath and speaking, “you’ve been distant lately, and I can’t help but wonder… if it’s because I finally got too big for you.” 

When Louis looked up he saw a look of horror on Harry’s face, “no, Louis. You’re perfect, this has nothing to do with you, and certainly not your lovely body.” Harry gave Louis’ tummy fat a little jiggle.

“Then… why have you been so distant?”

Harry hesitated and then let out a sigh, “I’ve noticed that my abs are getting less defined and I’m getting some chub on my sides. I didn’t want you to notice.”

Louis let out a little laugh, “Harry, I’m hardly in the position to talk about anyone else's weight. And besides, I don’t care if you gain weight, you’re perfect to me no matter what.”

Harry smiled and hugged his chubby boy, “you are too, Louis.”

If anyone wants to send me chubby Louis Tomlinson or chubby Spencer Reid concepts, ideas, or requests you can. The only thing I don’t want is anything with full on s3x and outright f33derism. Any ship is fine as well.

Also feel free to ask me questions as long as they are respectful and send me any chubby Louis and Spencer fics you come across or write :)

[thenicestthingiveseen]

8, 13, 17!

8. what piece of advice did you hear/read recently that's been helping you to improve your writing?

i have a bunch of writing tip posts saved in my drafts on here and i look at them every so often to improve my storytelling, especially in terms of pacing. I mentioned this in another ask, but I'm generally not a frilly language kind of person when I communicate with people. I loathe small talk and would rather get to the nitty gritty intimate details of a person's life, but writing fics has made me realize that the frilly stuff is fun and contributes to the sucker punch of someone's deepest darkest secrets.

I may be able to imagine what it looks like when Gideon and Hallie slowly become friends through these secret meetings in an abandoned corridor but not everyone has the same image as me and in order for me to get my point across I have to let people into my little world of make belief.

That was a long-winded way of saying prose can help slow down the pacing of a story.

13. do you have anything you are self-conscious about in your writing?

grammar 100%. It was never my favorite thing in English class (I still have flashbacks to sentence diagramming in 6th grade and just absolutely DREADING class during that section of the year). I will write a paper and dissect and analyze media until the cows come home but grammar will be the bane of my existence until the end of time.

...that and math.

17. how do you use reading material to help you with your own writing?

currently in an emily henry hole and it's allowed me to step back and consider the stakes of the stories I'm telling and what that means for the characters I'm using to tell those stories. I'm a bit of an emotional thrill seeker and my two books of 2023 (so far) have been heavily based on second-chance love, grief, and actively making choices about love even if the first time around falling in love felt inevitable.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Please Me: Oikawa's Oasis Part 3

⚠️This Fic is 18+, Minors DNI⚠️

Welcome to week 4 of the Please Me Series!  A collaboration with @axoxtxhxh! This weeks theme is Virginity Loss featuring Oikawa and Goshiki!  This weeks fics are broken into 3 parts! Parts 1 and 2 are linked in the master list below! Please check out Joey’s fic, Guiding Goshiki!  I will also link it in the Please Me master list!  

Warnings: swearing, slight angst, fluffy ending, virginity loss, kissing, male oral receiving, thigh riding, masturbation,  locker room sex, shower sex, unprotected sex, creampie, guided female masturbation, sub! oikawa, fem dom reader, petnames, one hell of a safeword 

Word Count: 5,000

Staring at the wall, you heard your alarm sound the following morning as you slowly arose from your bed.  You hadn’t slept at all since you had arrived home last night.  You couldn’t shake the feeling of shame and guilt for running away from Torū.

You’re feelings were valid, you knew that. But you knew it wasn’t right to run away from him like you did. You should have talked to him.  In a way, you probably made him feel more self conscious then you had your first time.  

You sighed as you got up to shower and head to the gym. You knew you needed to talk with Torū.  You needed to explain to him that none of this was his fault.  

Locking your door, you headed to the gym as you mentally prepared yourself for the conversation that would follow.  You wanted to tell him about how you were afraid you would ruin his first time.  How your first time failed miserably and that you didn’t want him to regret anything.  

Torū had become very special to you as both a teammate and a friend. You didn’t want to make his time with the team awkward in anyway.  You knew the conversation would be a difficult one but you had to do it.  

Arriving at gym you saw several of the other players nursing hangovers and you began setting up for the days practice.  You yawned as you went to the bench, to grab your notes as the teams captain approached.

“You must have really worn Torū out YN” he said nudging your side as you looked at him confused “he texted me this morning telling me he was too ‘worn out’ to come to practice” he said throwing up air quotes “I’m actually surprised you’re here today.”

Hearing the Torū wasn’t coming to practice hit your like a ton of bricks, the feeling guilty washing over you as you felt the urge to cry.  You turned away from the captain as he watched you walk away in silence, going to fill the teams water bottles.  

Stepping from the gym, you felt the tears flow as the guilt and shame of your actions washed over you. How could you act so immature?  How could you just run away?  

You cried as you went to fill the teams water bottles. God I probably made him feel so insecure. I’m such an idiot you thought to yourself as you tried to calm down enough to finish your task and excuse yourself to your office.  You could camp out there the rest of the practice, telling the coach you had some work to catch up on.  At least then you could cry in peace.

Torū groaned as he woke up from his small nap. He hadn’t been able to sleep because of what had transpired between YN and himself.  He felt so shamed, so inadequate.  These were feelings he didn’t often have, causing chaos in his mind as he jolted hearing the sudden ring of his phone.

He answered the FaceTime call to a smiling Iwaizumi as he tried to bring a smile to his glum face.

“Shittykawa what’s the matter with you?  I didn’t expect you to pick up. Don’t you have practice? Iwaizumi says as Oikawa just stared at him.

Iwaizumi was confused. He had known Oikawa for many years and this was the first time he had ever seen the former high school captain so gloomy. Even losing their 3rd year volleyball tournament hadn’t made the captain as sad as he was now.

“I messed up Hajime” Torū said as Iwaizumi reeled back.  Oikawa never used his full name.

“What happened? Are you ok?” He said as Torū tried to hold his composure in. His emotions were all over the place, he had never felt so vulnerable, so destroyed “Hey Torū, are you ok?”

That did it. Iwaizumi saying his name caused Torū to cry like he had never cried before. He wasn’t even embarrassed, not one bit. He didn’t have time to feel embarrassed. He felt too ashamed.

“Hajime” Torū said finally calming down “she- YN doesn’t want me.”

Iwaizumi was stunned.  Never had this ever happened. A girl didn’t want the Torū Oikawa?  What kind of alternative dimension was he living in?

Iwaizumi watched as his friend wiped his face with his palms, trying to figure out what to say.

“Uhh- well umm what happened” he managed to muster up as he tried hard to still comprehend the previous statement made by his friend.

“Last night, I went out with the team.  Things with YN got heated.  We came back to my place.  Everything was going so well.  Then I told her I was a virgin and she freaked out and ran” he said as he looked down, unable to make eye contact with his friend.

Iwaizumi couldn’t help but chuckle to himself and try as he might, he was unable to hold a straight face.  He laughed loudly as Torū’s head whipped up into view, sending glares at him.

“Dude, I'm sorry” he laughed “but please tell me that you just didn’t say ‘YN I’m a virgin’ and expect her to be like ready to rip your v-card from your grasp.”

Iwaizumi laughed loudly as Torū just continued to stare at his friend “I don’t think it’s very funny Iwa-chan” he said he  scuffed at his friends laughter.

“Boy, you really are lame shittykawa” he said chuckling “are you sure you really are good with women?  I mean I don’t blame her one bit!  Taking a guy’s virginity would suck!  I mean men really don’t know shit about pleasuring women so what’s in it for her?”

Torū thought hard while his friend talked. Maybe he had approached it wrong to begin with. Not that he thinks about it, his method of delivery was a bit hasty.  

“Dude, I think you need to just talk to her You don’t really know why she turned you down.  I mean it sounds like she likes you from the way things went last night. Maybe you just made her nervous.”

Torū knew his friend was right. You had never given him any indication that you didn’t like him and he knew that, last night you felt something just like he did.

Torū looked at his friend as he smiled “you’re right Iwa-chan I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” Iwaizumi laughed as he watched the light stream back into his friend’s face.  

“Good luck idiotkawa” he said hanging up as Torū laid his phone down.  It was getting late, well after practice had ended. He knew he should try and get to the gym to practice some before tomorrow. He gathered his gear as he made his way to the gym, hoping someone was still there so he could practice.

You had managed to avoid the team for the entire practice. The coach had bought your excuse and you stayed cooped up in your small office until after practice.  

You signed as you stood up from your chair, tired from sulking and crying the entire afternoon.  You grabbed your bag and locked the office door.  Thankfully it was Friday and you could spend the weekend sleeping.  You were exhausted but yet somehow found the strength to cry for hours on end.  

You approached the gym doors as the all too familiar sounds of volleyball slamming into the floor radiated into your ears.  You checked your phone, nothing that it was 7pm and well past practice time.  You approached the gym doors as you quietly peaked in to see a sweating Torū setting up a serve, smashing it straight into the net  

“UGH DAMMIT” he said shouting as he prepared the throw another one up, once again managing to net the ball.  He leaned over, placing his hands on his knees and he grabbed his towel and headed to the locker rooms.  He had only been practicing for an hour but he was just unable to get into it.  

You watched as he made his way into the locker rooms, following to the doors as you slowly opened them, hearing him shout from inside.

“Torū,you idiot!” he shouted as you winced at his words.  You felt awful. You knew he was like this because of what had transpired between the two of you the previous night.  

You walked in the doors, standing for a moment as you see Oikawa sitting on the bench, a towel placed over his head and his elbows rested on his knees.

You knew you had to say something.  You couldn’t let him think any of this was his fault.  This was all your doing and it was time you owned up to it  

“Hey Torū” you said softly as the locker room door closed behind you and Torū’s head snapped up to meet yours. He looked at you as you walked over to him, sitting directly in across from him on the other bench.

“We need to talk” you said as he put his head down, trying not to cry again.

“It’s ok YN.  There’s nothing to talk about” he said he went to stand up, stopping when you grabbed his forearm.

“No Torū” you said as you sniffles lightly “I need to apologize.”

Torū was confused as he sag back done the bench, removing the towel from his head.  He stared at you questioningly.  What were you apologizing for?

You played with your fingers for a moment as you tried hard to muster up the courage to talk.  You knew what you wanted to say, rather what you needed to say.  

“Torū, I’m sorry I ran out on you.  I shouldn’t have done that.  I- I just got really nervous” you say, still looking down at the floor as you took a deep breath and tried hard not to cry.

“When you told me you were a virgin, it made me nervous.  I remember my first time all too well and I- well I just don’t want your first time to be like mine was” you speak as Torū looks at you, still confused.

The whole time the issue hadn’t been that he was a virgin, it had been that you wanted him to have a good experience?  He was shocked.  Here he though the issue was him, when in reality the issue was your own self doubts. He listened as you continued to talk.

“My first time wasn’t good Torū.  I didn’t know what I was doing and I thought I had feelings for the guy but like he didn’t have feelings for me.  And I really like you Torū and I just don’t want you to regret anything.  The fact that you trusted me with something so special made me nervous and scares” you said as your eyes went up to meet Torū.  

He looked at you, staring into your eyes as he tried hard to comprehend everything you had just said. He felt awful that your first experience wasn’t good but he also knew his feelings for you were valid and now he knew you had feelings for him too. He continued to stare as he worked his way thought the issues in his mind.  

You frowned as you took his silence as a bad sign, sighing as you stood up.  

“Thanks for letting me explain myself Torū.  You are so amazing and you deserve someone special” you said as you went to leave the locker rooms.

Torū snapped from his thoughts as he quickly grabbed your hand, pulling you back into his as he placed a light kiss on your lips. He smiled as you looked at him, very confused as to what had just happened.

Torū put his forehead on yours as you smiled softly.  

“YN, you don’t get it.  I want you to be my first because of how I feel about you” he said as he looked at you softly. You had become an oasis for him. An escape from reality and daily life. You had loved volleyball as much as him and you had always been genuine with him.  

You smiled as you grabbed his neck, kissing him softly again as he pulled your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss.  He placed his hands on your soft waist as he moved his hand up and down your back as you grabbed at his hair pulling him in closer to you.

You break from the kiss, staring at each other as your lips hovered over his.  Your body hearing up as you could feel his erection forming against your thigh.  You kissed his chin to his neck as he pulled your pelvis in closer, grinding where he could, trying hard to gather any amount of friction to ease his aching cock.

He backed away from him as he watched in confusion as you approached the locker room door.

Not again he thought as he heard the lock click, watching you stroll back to him, pulling him back into a full embrace.  He needed you and bad.  He couldn’t stand this pain in his cock anymore. He needed relief and the only medicine was you.

You push him back to the bench as he sits down looking up at you as you smirk down at him.

“Torū do you really want this?” You said as he groans, looking up at your gorgeous figure.  

He nodded frantically as you took his chin in your hand “I need a verbal response Torū” you said as his eyes widened.

“Yes- yes YN I want this” he said as you step back, removing your shirt and leggings, watching him ogle at your nearly naked form.  

“Ok Torū, I want you to pick a safe word just incase things get to be too much for you” you said as he gawked at you in your bra and panties. He was having a hard time concentrating on the task at hand with you standing tall in front of him.

“Torū!” you repeated as you snapped your fingers in front of his eyes, trying to get his attention turned back.

“Oh shit- yeah a safe word, umm how about ‘Kageyama’?” He said as you stared strangely at the word.

“I’ve never heard of ‘Kageyama’?  What does that mean?” You said as he stood up from his spot approaching you as he grabbed at your scantily clad hips.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just something will definitely snap me out of the mood” he said as you chuckled lightly embracing Torū in a heated kiss.  

Your tongue licked his lips lightly as he granted you access, opening his mouth to your wet muscle as you massaged your tongue against his, pulling light groans from his pretty head.

You tugged on his shirt as he lifted his arms up, letting you pull the shirt from his body as your fingers and palms run up his sculpted chest.  

Your fingers graze lightly over his nipples as he shutters and groans.  His body was so reactive to every touch, every movement. The fact that you were about to engage in intercourse with the setter still made you a bit nervous but you tried hard to cast the self doubt aside, wanting to make the experience memorable for both you and Torū.

As if on queue, Torū looked at you sweetly as he brushed the tip of your nose with his. “you know YN, we could just count this as your virginity loss too.  I mean clearly you are as nervous as I am” he said chuckling as you laughed loudly throwing your head back.  

“That’s a good idea Torū but I am experienced in pleasuring a partner” you said as you push him down to the bench “just be a good boy for me and let me take the lead, ok?”

Torū gulped as he eyes widened at as your form sunk to your knees in front of him.  This was really happening and in the team locker room.  Not an ideal place to lose your virginity but he was not about to interrupt you.

“Umm YN” he said as he looked at you , kneeling before him with your hands placed on your plush thighs “don’t you umm, don’t you want me to make you feel good too?”  

You chuckled lightly as you reached up pulling him into a heated kiss as he gently rubbed his hands along your soft arms.

“How about I show you what I like while I make you feel good, then you can try?” You say as he nods quickly watching your hands go to his gym shorts, pulling his erection free as he shifts his hips upwards, helping you to remove his pesky shorts.

Your eyes widen at his size as you think about all the possible ways his cock will pleasure your wet cunt.  You felt your core heat up as you looked up to Torū.  

He was completely blissed out. Lost in translation between here and fantasy.  He’s eyes sparkled with excitement as you tested the waters, lightly kicking the tips of his hard cock.

Groaning he threw his head back in pleasure as you smirked to yourself, going in for another lick.  Your tongue laying more and more on his stiffened cock as he writhed in pleasure under your control.

Your body headed as you watched his abs contract in the moment, his mouth hanging open as his tongue lolled out in ecstasy.  He watched as your fingers traced lightly from his legs to your own, peering down at your chest as your fingers danced lightly over your clothed clit.

“Fuck YN” he moaned as he tried his hardest not to come from the sensation of your tongue on his cock.

Taking one final lick, you stand up as you slowly remove your panties from your body, revealing your cunt to him as he stares at the wetness coating your inner thighs.  

“Did you- did I” he said staring at you as you laugh, pushing him back on the hard bench, placing one leg on each side as you rub your clit with your fingers.

“Yes Torū you made me this wet” you say as you widen his legs on the bench, his cock standing tall as you bend down, grinding your cunt on his lower thigh.  

“Holy shit-” he groans as you moan throwing your head back as his leg rubs your clit perfect.  He grabs his cock as he slowly begins to stroke himself, trying hard to concentrate on your moments and pleasure as he feels the wetness pool on his legs.  

You lean over, placing two of your wet fingers in his mouth as he sucks violently, causing you to grind faster and harder.  Your orgasm builds as moans and groans fill the air

 Your body heats up rapidly as the cord in your stomach tightens. Your pace quickens as does Torū’s as you feel the cord begin to loosen.

“Oh fuck Torū” you moan as Toru groans deeply, letting go of his aching cock to watch as you tip over the edge.  

“Come on baby, come for me” he says as the pet name tips you over the edge, your cunt pulsing on his thigh as he watches your face contort into pleasure.  

“That was so hot YN” he says he has gently caressed your arm and leg as his cock aches painfully beside you.

“We are just getting started Torū” you say as you adjust yourself over his pelvis, pushing his cock between your wet folds as your grind back and forth, trying hard to ensure your good and ready to take his cock.

“Fuck YN- I, I’m not going to last long” you say as you shush him, halting your movements.

“Hey its OK.  I already came so now we need you to come. How do you want to come Torū?” You say as he bites his lower lip, watching your pussy settle above his cock.

“Please YN- please put it in. I need to be inside of you princess” he squeaks out as you smirk at his request. You knew he wouldn’t last long inside of you.  One thing you prided yourself on sexually was your ability to ride a cock and boy was Torū in for a treat.  

You line his cock up with your wet cunt, slowly bending your knees down as you impaled yourself in his cock.

The stretch was delicious as Torū’s mouth fell open as he groaned and panted beneath you.  You knew he could feel the tightness you felt as you waited for him to adjust to being inside of you.

Torū’s hands flew to your hips as he tried his hardest to remain calm.  Your cunt was so tight and so warm around his cock. The pleasure was unimaginable.  All he wanted was to feel the release.

“Torū are you ok?” You said as you steadied your hands on his chest watching to make sure the man below you was still coherent.

“It’s so tight YN, please” he moaned as his hands went to your hips and you ground a little down on him as his core shuttered, causing his dick to jolt inside you.

“I’m going to go slow ok” you said as he nodded.  Your feet planted firmly on the ground, you pushed lightly on his chest as you propelled your hips up and down, impaling yourself on his cock over and cover again.  

The pace was agonizing for Torū as whimper and moans fell from his mouth.  You could feel your orgasm building and you knew Torū couldn’t hold on much longer.  You needed to go faster.

“Torū” you groan from above him as you continue your leisurely pace “I’m close can I go-”

“GOD PLEASE BABY FUCK ME” he shouts as your hips speed up, jerking his cock as you felt the familiar knot began to unwind “fuck YN I can’t hold out-”

“Almost baby” you moan as you feel the cord snap inside your stomach as your cunt pulses on Toru's cock causing him to groan and grunt.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK-” he shouts as his hips still into you, painting your walls white as he grips your hips firmly, whimpering below you as he tried his hardest to come down from his high.

He felt absolutely spectacular, like his body was floating on air.  He couldn’t believe how amazing his first time had been. He never imagined it would happen the way it did but he wasn’t complaining.  His body and mind were in complete bliss.

Coming down from your high, you laugh as you look at Torū’s blissed out state.  He smiles at you as he opens his eyes slowly caressing your cheek.  

“That was amazing YN” he said, breath shaking as he came down from his high, breathing steadily.

Your chest filled with pride as you felt sheer happiness fluid your body.  You had redeemed yourself and you had made Torū’s first time amazing.

Standing up slowly, Torū watched as his cum leaked down your thigh as you stood in front of him.  His eyes traced your form as he felt his cock jolt to life again, ready for another round.

Standing up, he quickly grabbed you in a bridal carry, running towards the shower as your screamed and laughed as he set you down, turning the water on and pressing your body against the shower wall.

“eww Torū, this wall is gross” you groan as his lips attach to your neck as you feel his erection growing against your pelvis.

“It’s fine YN, I’ll clean you up afterwards” he says as he kisses you deeply, pulling your body against his as he pulls you under the warm water.  

You break the kiss as you smile softly up at his tall form, water cascading down his body as you feel his hardened chest under your hands.

“I need you” he says as you smirk at him, turning around to face the wall.  You grind your ass into his already hard member as he grabs your hips, pulling you firmly into him.

“Then fuck me Torū” you say as you peer over your shoulders, watching Torū’s face fill with excitement as he lines up his cock with your still damp cunt, slowly pushing in as he slowly sinks deep into your hole.

“fuck YN- your pussy is just amazing” he says as he slowly pulls his cock back out, moving at a snails pace in and out of you.

“Torū” you moan as you mouth falls open  “give me your hand” you say as Torū’s hand appears in front of you as you place it between your legs on your hardened clit.  Torū moans when his fingers hit your clit as you rotate his wrist, showing him exactly how you like to be pleasured.  You let go of his hand as he continues to rub tiny fast circles into your clit as you propel yourself faster onto his cock, meeting his thrusts half way.

The air feels with the smell of sex and the sound of skin slapping as your ass meets his hips over and over.  

“Fuck baby” he groans

“I know Torū, just a little more” you squeak out as he picks up his speed, meeting your ass fast and harshly as his fingers speed up on your clit.

“TORŪ FUCK-” You scream as his hips still on your ass as he presses hard, his head falling to your shoulder as he tries to gain control of his breathing.

“Ahhh fucking hell- FUCK” he shouts as he chest heaves in relief as you both come down from your highs as he releases you and you turn to face him, kissing him softly as he grabs you, pulling you into a tight embrace.  

“Thank you YN” he says whispering into your neck as you smile softly.

After cleaning up and getting dressed, Torū helps you clean up the gym as you get ready to leave for the night.  Locking the gym doors, Torū grabs your hand as he pulls you along with him.

“Torū” you say laughing as the brunette pulls you hastily out of the building “my apartment is the other way!”

“Who said the night was over YN-chan?  I need to practice pleasuring you” he smirks as you gulp, following behind him quickly.

You sure were in for a long night ahead.

taglist: @chaotic-nick @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes @serostapesweat @lovelyzabrak-meadow​

[inastateofmind]

one day / rafe cameron

a.n. YAY for my first fic!!! please be nice because i really do not know what i’m doing. hopefully it’s okay though. feedback is greatly appreciated. let me know what yall want to see next or if i’ve left out any warnings or anything like that!

pairing: non canon rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: y/n tutors sarah and is pining after rafe, little does she know, rafe is pining after her too. song fic inspired by one day by tate mcrae! i do not own any lyrics used. lyrics are italicized.

word count: 2440

warnings: unrequited love induced angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex if you squint, jealousy, kelce being kelce

“She stares at her ceiling once again with a hundred thoughts,

‘Maybe he knows who I am, probably not.’”

Y/N laid in her room quietly, Olivia Rodrigo’s “enough for you” playing faintly in the background while she stared at the ceiling above her. School had just started two weeks ago and her feelings for Kook King Rafe Cameron had only intensified since then. Working for the school’s student services, she had been assigned to tutor Sarah, which left Y/N seeing Rafe more often than her heart could physically handle. The two of them hadn’t talked much, only sharing a few passing comments to each other while she confided in his home with Sarah. The reality of their relationship was that the older Cameron sibling probably hardly knew her name, however that did not stop her from harboring feelings for him from afar for almost two years.

“She walks down the hall with her head down low, scared to meet his eyes

Even when she hears his voice she's swarmed with butterflies”

The halls of the Kook Academy were crowded with girls in short skirts and crop tops and boys in polos and khakis when the bell rang for lunch. Y/N stopped by her locker to switch out her textbooks for the second half of her day, keeping her head low as she weaved in between the crowd. “Dude, I just don’t get it. I basically used Grammarly for the whole thing and I still got a C?” She could make out Kelce’s voice in all the commotion due to the volume of his outburst. A giggle slipped out of her lips as she slipped past him, knowing the teachers in this school know when the students use programs like Kelce’s to write their papers. “Sorry, Y/L/N, is something funny?” The boy stepped towards her, causing her to finally lift her head and meet the eyes of everyone who was around. Y/N’s eyes were immediately drawn to Rafe’s, and then fallen to the hand that gripped around Kelce’s arm, making him step back from the shy girl in front of him, “Man, leave her alone.” Her eyes met Rafe’s again as he smiled at her, causing butterflies to swarm her insides as she turned and walked away, leaving Rafe victim to Kelce’s teasing of his “crush.”

“It’s impossible to get you off my mind, I think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine

I’ve understood that you will never be mine, and that’s fine — I’m just breaking inside”

“You look so hot, Y/N,” Sarah complimented, curling the last piece of her own hair while Y/N stared at herself in the mirror. Sarah had insisted she come to the annual bonfire, and in return had offered to help her get ready. “Rafe is going to die when he sees you tonight.” Y/N thought her heart stopped right then and there. She spun around quickly, staring at Sarah. “What?” Sarah laughed, fluffing her hair as she stood up. “Y/N/N, you can’t hide that from me. I figure out everything.” Y/N sighed and made her way towards the door, opening it for Sarah to lead the way. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s got a thing for you too.”

—

The bonfire was not Y/N’s scene, to say the least. By the time her and Sarah arrived, many people were already wasted. The number of people in the small space was enough to send Y/N into fight or flight mode, but Sarah was quick to pull her into the crowd with a drink and start dancing. Several songs passed before Y/N found Rafe, who already had his eyes on her. She blushed, suddenly feeling very self conscious. Was this crop top too cropped? Has she danced too bad it’s been embarrassing? Is it obvious she doesn’t belong here? She must’ve been lost in her thoughts for some time, because next thing she knew, Rafe’s hands were resting on her hips, bringing her back to earth. “Anyone home?” He joked, tapping her hips with his fingers. She laughed lightly, her nerves flowing through her body. Rafe leaned into her ear, his breath warm against her cold skin, “You look really good.” This small compliment mixed with the alcohol coursing through her veins gave her a new found confidence. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Cameron.” Y/N swore she saw a faint blush on the notorious bad boy’s cheeks, but she would never be too sure, because as quick as their moment started, it ended. “Rafe! Beer pong let’s go!” Topper yelled from behind Rafe, a crowd cheering at the mention of Rafe’s name. The boy sighed and rolled his eyes. Y/N placed a hand on his chest, “Go,” she smiled, “You can find me later.” Rafe smiled at her before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be back.” Y/N watched as Rafe ran into the crowd chanting his name, laughing as he turned around and pretended to have Topper “crown” him as the beer pong king before beginning their game.

—

An hour had passed when Y/N had begin to feel tired of chatting up random people from school. She had consumed a few more drinks while waiting for Rafe to come find her, however he never came. She decided to take things into her own hands and find Rafe herself. Standing from the log surrounding the bonfire, she swayed slightly as she walked around the small space searching for Rafe. She didn’t see him anywhere, so she had assumed he had left on his own accord. That is, until she heard whistling from Topper and Kelce. “Okay Rafey boy!” She turned quickly to see Rafe helping a skinny blonde from their calculus class into his car. Suddenly, her shoes were the most interesting thing at the bonfire. Y/N felt stupid for ever thinking Rafe cared or was attracted to her, and she felt even more stupid for thinking he was really going to come find her. “Hey,” she turned to see Sarah smiling at her sadly. “John B’s here to take us home,” Y/N cut her off, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m going to go back to mine actually.”

“He always walks the crowded halls and is blinded by this light

A girl who keeps her head down low and never shows her eyes”

Rafe spent most of his time at school surrounded by an entourage. However, as of recently, his main focus hasn’t been the popularity or the girls flocking his way, but more so a specific girl: Y/N. He watched her in class while she worked ahead of the teacher, he noticed how she got anxious in the crowded hallways, he loved how she opened up while she hung out with Sarah after school. He had never felt so attached to a girl before, especially one he had hardly talked to. Something about Y/N just kept drawing Rafe in, making him want to be a proper gentleman and get to know her— all the weird little things and the seemingly unimportant things too. 

“He tried to talk to her but there’s no easy way

‘Cause every time he raises his voice, she runs away”

“Y/N! Hey, wait up!” Rafe yelled down the hallway, running after the girl as she beelined it to her locker. “Y/N,” She opened her locker, shoving her books into it with a sigh. “What do you want, Rafe?” His eyebrows furrowed at her tone. He didn’t understand. At the bonfire, things had been going so good. Now, he could barely get the girl to glance in his direction. “Why are you avoiding me? I thought at the bonfire…” She cut him off, slamming her locker shut. “Yeah, I thought things at the bonfire were going good too, until you left me there to go off with some girl,” She shrugged, turning and walking away before Rafe could even respond. He ran a hand through his hair out of frustration. The reality of the situation: the girl from the bonfire was truly just a friend who was far too wasted and vulnerable to get home on her own, and Rafe recognized that and offered to take her home. He couldn’t blame Y/N for thinking otherwise though, seeing as he did have quite the reputation. He glanced once more in the direction she walked off into before going to meet the younger Cameron sibling for advice.

“Oh, it’s impossible to get you off my mind

I think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine.

I’ve understood that you will never be mine and that’s fine,

I’m just breaking inside”

Rafe spent the next few afternoons in the comfort of the country club with Kelce and Topper, avoiding his home at all costs until he was sure Y/N was done tutoring Sarah. He wanted nothing more than to go home and steal the girl from his sister so they could talk things out, but he knew that would ultimately make things worse, so he kept his distance. However, the phrase “distance makes the heart grow fonder” rang true, because Y/N was the only thing on his mind. By Wednesday afternoon, he finally gave in, going straight home from school. Wednesdays for Y/N and Sarah were typically their “relaxation” day before cramming for tests on Thursday, so Rafe expected to walk into the living room to find the two of you curled up on the couch. However, the house was oddly quiet and the driveway empty. He texted Sarah, asking where they were.

“John B’s. Be back by dinner.”

John B’s?

Y/N was at John B’s?

Rafe shook his head, opening Snapchat. He looked at Sarah’s story, a picture of her, Kiara and Y/N on the HMS Pogue. He smiled at how happy she looked. The next picture was one of Sarah in John B’s lap, with Y/N in the background sporting JJ’s hat and seemingly swatting at him while he reached to take it back. Rafe’s heart dropped slightly, staring at this picture a little longer than necessary. Maybe if he would’ve stayed with her at the bonfire, that could’ve been them. Now he had basically walked the girl of his dreams into the arms of JJ Maybank. 

‘Maybe it’s better this way,’ He thought. 

But maybe he didn’t want better.

“One day, maybe she’ll stay and start to head over his way

And one day, she’ll look into his eyes and instead of breaking, she’ll call him ‘Mine’

One day, he’ll grab her by the waist and force them to meet face to face

One day he’ll look into her eyes and say that ‘You’re my only light’”

His phone ringing at 1 in the morning woke Rafe from his sleep, not even bothering to see who was calling before answering. “It better be important if you’re waking me up,” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Rafe, you’re too sweet sometimes, you know?” Rafe rolled his eyes, staring at the clock. “Topper, why did you call me?” His patience was wearing thin, but he knew Topper wouldn’t have called him without reason at this time of night. “I just wanted to tell you I just passed Y/N walking home by herself, I asked if she wanted me to give her a ride and she said no, but she looked pretty shaken up. I’ve still got an eye on her but I thought you might want to come,” Topper didn’t have to finish, the minute the girl’s name had fallen out of his mouth Rafe was throwing on a sweatshirt and slipping into shoes faster than he ever has before. His mind was running a million miles a minute. 

Why was she out this late by herself?

Why didn’t she call someone?

Did something already happen?

Rafe grabbed his keys and sped to Topper’s shared location, slowing down once he saw his jeep ahead of him. “I’ve got her, man. Thanks.” He hung up before pulling his car off onto the side of the road. “Y/N,” Rafe spoke as he got out, loud enough that she could hear it was him and not startle her. She turned quickly, staring at him as he approached her slowly. “I just wanted to go for a walk,” she mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone.” Rafe nodded. “I’m not mad at you, but it’s late,” he spoke gently. He could see on her face she was upset and he didn’t want to make it worse. Y/N was looking everywhere but at him. She was nervous, embarrassed, everything in between. “Hey,” Rafe whispered, placing his hands on her waist like he did at the bonfire. Her eyes met his and he could read her like an open book. He saw the nerves. He saw the sadness. “Let’s get you home.”

-

The car ride back to the Cameron household was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Rafe kept one hand on the wheel and one locked in Y/N’s, glancing over at her every few minutes to make sure she was doing okay. Back at the house, he provided her clothes to change into while he grabbed some drinks for them. Y/N sat on his bed, preparing herself for what she was about to do. It was the reason for the walk, the reason for the silence in the car. Honestly, this could be an awful time to do it, but there was no turning back now. “Okay, so I’ve got chips, cookies, water, Pepsi, mountain dew,” “Rafe.” Y/N cut him off, staring at him as she sat criss crossed on his bed. He sat everything down and stared at her, encouraging her to continue. “This could be a bad time to tell you, but I like you. I went on that walk because I needed to get you out of my head but then you showed up so clearly it didn’t work and honestly I’ve liked you for a while, and you don’t have to like me back, oh no you’re laughing,” She cut herself off at the sight of Rafe chuckling and moving towards her. “Why are you laughing?” Y/N whispered as he got close enough that he could feel his breath on her skin. “Because,” Rafe smiled, “I like you too.”

[arrantsnowdrop]

To be a Jedi - Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Request: “anakin/female!reader getting together fic that involves reader crying because she’s feeling self-conscious about her appearance and feeling worthless and anakin comforting her and calming her down and then accidentally confessing to her?”

Tags: @lothloriien​

Warnings: self-deprecation, insecurities, etc. (~2,500 words)

~~~~~

Being a Jedi really sucked sometimes.

Not all the time. In fact, you normally enjoyed the fast-paced, demanding lifestyle you led. Even as a youngling you had taken pride in the ritual and responsibility of being a Jedi, and now, as a Padawan on the verge of facing the Jedi trials, you were more confident than ever that the Force had led you down the right path.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t have bad days every once in a while.

Your Master had been called away on some highly classified mission in the Naboo system, so you’d been spending the week at the Jedi Temple working on some independent research and participating in training sessions with the other senior Padawans. Unfortunately, they were focusing on lightsaber combat this week - something you were definitely not as skilled at considering your specialization in negotiation and communications.

It wasn’t that you were unathletic - you were training to be a Jedi for crying out loud - but it was hard not to feel a little self-conscious about how much you were struggling with the training exercises, especially when your assigned training partner was none other than Anakin Skywalker.

It was just past midday - you’d been training for hours already and still had a few to go. The sun was blaring down on the courtyard where you and the other Padawans were sparring under Obi-Wan’s supervision.

You panted heavily, eyeing Anakin as the two of you circled each other slowly. There was no question as to which one of you would launch the next parry - Anakin had taken the offensive right out of the gate - so all you could do was try to catch your breath and prepare yourself for his next attack.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, a few beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and some of his hair sticking to his face. His eyes were following your every move, tracking you like you were some kind of prey.

You hated this.

Suddenly, Anakin lunged forward, blue lightsaber whirring loudly as he swung it towards you. You groaned, lifting your own lightsaber up at the last possible moment to deflect him.

“Such a slow reaction time,” Anakin teased, grinning as he stepped back to give himself a wider range of motion.

“I thought it would take you longer to catch your breath,” you replied, voice strained as you blocked another one of his strikes.

You’d been friends with Anakin since Obi-Wan took him as a Padawan years ago, offering to help him as he played “catch up” with the rest of you. The fact he’d become such a strong Force-user despite starting so late was something you deeply respected him for, though you were perfectly content simply watching him display these skills.

Being on the receiving end of a lightsaber attack from Anakin Skywalker was not something you would consider enjoyable. You’d spent the whole morning dodging and jumping and somehow still losing every match. 

You flinched as Anakin’s lightsaber hit your torso, the sting of the “training mode” setting hurting far less than the sting of your own pride.

“Seven to one,” Obi-Wan called from where he was watching. You groaned, rubbing your temples with your free hand and turning your lightsaber off.

“Hey, you were definitely doing better than time,” Anakin said reassuringly, sensing your frustration. “Improvement is all Obi-Wan is looking for.”

“Improvement doesn’t take away from the fact I’ve lost seven matches today,” you seethed, bending down to re-tie the laces of your boots.

“Perhaps if you worked out a bit more you wouldn’t lose so often,” one of the other Padawans jested. Your head snapped up, face flushing as you sent them a pointed glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked curtly, watching them look between you and Anakin uncomfortably.

“It’s just-”

They didn’t get a chance to finish, letting out a small shriek as they dodged a rock flying through the air. You turned around to look at Anakin, his slightly raised hand indicating who’d been responsible for the rock. At least he was using his Force capabilities in your favor now.

“Thanks,” you muttered, reigniting your lightsaber, glancing at the clock above where Obi-Wan was sitting. All you wanted was for training to be over so you could retreat to your room.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” Anakin said, a somewhat angry look on his face as he took a fighting stance across from you. “You’re perfectly capable of wielding a lightsaber, and you’d definitely beat them if you’d been paired up.”

“Hopefully,” you corrected him, “hopefully I’d beat them.”

“Definitely,” Anakin insisted, you rolling your eyes as you lifted your lightsaber in front of you.

----

What sucked about getting older was how little you saw Obi-Wan and Anakin. Your Master was responsible for conducting multiple research projects for the Jedi Council off-world, and Obi-Wan and Anakin hardly ever stayed on Coruscant for longer than a few days, so it was unlikely that you’d find yourselves in the same place for a decent amount of time anymore.

Normally, you would’ve used this week as a great opportunity to catch up with one of your oldest friends. This damn lightsaber training was getting in the way.

It had been yet another long day of sweating the equivalent of your own bodyweight and paling in comparison to Anakin’s abilities. Obi-Wan had focused on lightsaber combat in precarious and compromising situations, with one of which resulting in you falling off a two story rock wall.

As you stood in front of the mirror in your room you couldn’t overlook the spattering of bruises covering your torso and arms, all varying hues of blue and purple culminating from the last few days. You sighed, grateful you were getting the extra training you so clearly needed and nervous about what that meant. Imagine you’d been confronted by some Sith fanatic in the last few weeks - who knows how long you would’ve lasted?

Perhaps you were overthinking. You did have an extremely over-skilled training partner who made most other Jedi look incompetent with a lightsaber.

That being said, you still couldn’t shake what that other Padawan had said about you yesterday. Had you really become unathletic? You didn’t think you’d ever really neglected your daily training exercises, but perhaps those weren’t enough.

You sat down on the edge of your bed slowly, shoulder slumped. Maybe you weren’t as capable as you thought. The bruises all over you and lack of any actual visible muscle certainly pointed towards that.

----

The next morning, you skipped breakfast, giving Obi-Wan some offhanded explanation as to why you’d be missing training and heading for the library. You weren’t really skipping for no reason, your Master had given you a list of different research topics for you to look up in the Jedi Archives. Did you really need the extra time to get this done? No, but it still gave you a good excuse to avoid the feeling of physical incapability that accompanied your training sessions.

Plus, you didn’t want to slow the entire group down. Tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered yesterday when Obi-Wan made you repeat some dumb exercise on a floating raft over and over again, even though everyone else had already done it to his satisfaction. It was humiliating.

At least here in the library, surrounded by stacks of holograms and books, you were in your element. Here you didn’t have to move fast or chop anyone’s limb off out of self-defense.

It was sometime in the late afternoon when Anakin stormed into the library, loud footsteps immediately shushed by a swarm of librarians. You couldn’t help but grin softly, eyes meeting his as he marched over to you much more quietly.

“Even the great Anakin Skywalker is no match for an angry librarian,” you teased, him scoffing as he plopped down in a chair next to you.

“And where were you today?” Anakin asked, a strange intensity behind his question. You gulped, gesturing to the pile of transcripts and notes in front of you.

“I was right here,” you replied meekly.

“Since this morning?” he asked, eyes widening in surprise. You nodded.

“What the heck, Y/N,” he groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Obi-Wan assigned me a different partner. Do you know how irritating every other Padawan is to train with?”

“No, I’ve only ever trained with you,” you said bluntly.

“Exactly!” Anakin responded a little too loudly, earning him a dramatic shush from the circulation desk.

“Shut up,” you chuckled, slapping his chest lightly. He rolled his eyes.

“What I mean is that I’ve only ever trained with you, too, so everyone else doesn’t live up to my expectations.”

“What expectations?” you asked quizzically, flipping one of your notebooks closed.

“Working hard but still having a good time,” he answered, waving his hand nonchalantly. “You never sacrifice good banter for anything, I value that.”

“Ah, I’m glad to know you only value me as a training partner for my humor,” you retorted dryly, gathering all your belongings into a pile and standing up. Anakin’s brows furrowed as he looked up at you, a confused look painted across his face.

“Hey, what?” he asked, standing up with you. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just makes sense that you only enjoy my conversation, not anything actually training-related.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, completely dumbfounded as you started walking away.

“See you tomorrow, Anakin,” you replied, refusing to shed any more tears until you reached your room.

----

The next morning you were too unmotivated to let Obi-Wan know you weren’t coming, deciding instead to stay in bed and do absolutely nothing. Well, you were reading, but what did that really matter to a Jedi? You were supposed to be able to do backflips through the air and take on five enemies at once, and yet here you were wrapped in two blankets feeling like absolute shit. Some Jedi you were.

You held your breath as someone began knocking furiously on the door, hoping desperately they would think you weren’t home.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” Anakin called. You groaned, turning around and smashing your face into the pillow.

“Y/N!” he called again.

“Don’t come in!” you shouted back, voice muffled through the pillow.

“I’m coming in.”

“Don’t-”

You never got the chance to finish, bolting upright in bed as the door flew open, Anakin stalking in. You rolled your eyes, just thankful he had kept the door on its hinges.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded, cringing as you recoiled slightly at his harsh words.

“What do you mean?” you replied quietly, his face softening as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I meant what’s wrong, not what’s wrong with you,” Anakin corrected, taking your hand in his own.

“Nothing’s wr-”

“Don’t give me that,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t even try, I know you better than anyone Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You kept quiet, focusing on the way his thumb was rubbing small circles on the back of your hand.

“You’ve been acting off since we started training together, is it something I did?” he tried again, genuinely concerned. You laughed dryly and shook your head.

“No, Anakin, you didn’t do anything,” you replied truthfully, looking at him. “You’re perfect, I promise you did nothing wrong.” He gave you a small smile, looking down to where he was still holding your hand. He didn’t let go, only gripped you a little tighter, urging you to continue. You bit your lip, debating whether or not to tell him.

“Do you remember when that Padawan told me I needed to exercise more?” you asked finally. His head snapped up, eyes meeting yours.

“I knew it,” he murmured, nostrils flaring as he tried (and failed) to conceal his budding anger. “I knew it.”

“Anakin it’s ok,” you said, reaching out and rubbing his forearm, his gaze following your hand. “I mean, they were right, if I-”

“No,” Anakin said. “No, they weren’t right. They have no idea how strong you are, how capable-”

“Anakin I’ve struggled this entire week,” you blurted, eyes stinging and face heating up. “I pale in comparison to you, and the other Padawans, at least physically. I thought whatever training I’d been doing had been enough but clearly it wasn’t, so they’re right. I need to exercise more, I need to train more, I’m incapable of defending myself with a lightsaber and I don’t even look like a proper Jedi.” You thrust your bruised arms out towards him. “Look at these, you don’t have them, no one else does. I’m the only one who struggles with every exercise and test.”

You realized you’d begun to cry, tears rolling down your face and breaths shallow.

“Y/N,” Anakin murmured, hurt in his eyes as he took your arms gingerly in his hands. “Y/N, no.”

Your eyes widened as Anakin bent over, slowly pressing his mouth to each bruise on your forearms. You gulped, feeling a little dizzy as Anakin glanced up at you. “You’re an amazing Jedi,” he started, sitting back up straight and pulling you closer to him. You tried to pull away, not wanting to stain his robes with your tears, but he held you firmly. “You’re already stronger than half the people in that group, I’ll have Obi-Wan reassign you so you can kick someone’s ass and everyone will realize it.”

“Anakin-”

He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You closed your eyes, reveling in the warmth of his body against yours.

“There’s more to being a Jedi than using a lightsaber, anyways,” he continued. “You’re the only person our age in this whole temple that can negotiate with warlords and thieves and murderers and still come back unscathed with five new friends.”

You chuckled, biting your lip as he pressed a kiss against your hair.

“You’re perfect, Y/N,” he insisted softly, you shifting in his arms to gaze up at him.

You were surprised by how nervous he looked, as if he didn’t know how you’d react to what he’d just said, what he’d just implied. You just smiled softly, leaning up to press a slow kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Anakin,” you mumbled against his face, grinning as you felt him smile.

Suddenly he pushed himself up, forcing you down onto the bed and collapsing on top of you. You shrieked, bursting into a fit of giggles as he began nestling himself in your hair.

“Shouldn’t you still be at training?” you asked, a wide smile on your face.

“I was sent here by Obi-Wan to fetch you,” he replied smugly.

“So shouldn’t we both be getting back then?”

He propped himself up on his elbows, gazing down at you with a cocky smile on his face.

“I never told him when I’d be coming back.”

You decided you could afford to skip training another day - Anakin probably needed the rest anyways - and pulled his face down to meet your own.

[wingodex]

The Old Guard Speech Patterns Analysis

I made a post on the speech patterns of the main characters in The Old Guard, and a lot of people seemed interested in it, so I’ve cleaned up and clarified the rest of my notes. What I’ve looked at specifically here is mostly related to syntax, so grammar and sentence structure. I’ve vaguely looked at pragmatics, which has to do with how context contributes to meaning, and semantics, which deals with the meaning of words, phrases and sentences. I’ve also looked at sociolinguistics, which has to do with the effect of society on language, but I want to be upfront in saying that it’s not my personal area of interest so my knowledge is lacking there. On that same point, I have no formal linguistics training, I’m just into conlanging and everything I know about linguistics is self taught. For each of the characters I’ve talked about contraction usage, colloquialisms, phrases, verb and verb tense usage, ellipses, sentence composition, adjective and adverb frequency, discourse markers and fillers, profanity, vocabulary(ish), and questions.

You can also find all of this on ao3.

Couple of disclaimers to start: while this is obviously a great tool for fic writing, and can help you get a feel for the way that the characters speak in the movie, I’m asking non-Black writers to be very careful about the way you use some of this information when it comes to Nile. When Nile speaks, she uses a lot of colloquial/vernacular language, and while she doesn’t speak AAVE in the movie, her syntax does contain vernacular features. The history of transcribing colloquial language and vernacular dialects—African American/Black English in particular—is racist, classist and ableist. Your decision to write in colloquial language or to incorporate elements of Black English, rather than using Standard English, into Nile’s dialogue can potentially continue a tradition of racial othering if you’re not wary and conscious. Colloquial language in written form is often used to imply a lack of intelligence, a lack of education or a lower class. Be especially considerate of transcribing colloquial reductions like “wanna,” “gotta,” etc. Avoid eye-dialect at all cost, please, I am begging you. In general, the best way to transcribe dialects is through rhythm of prose, syntax, idioms/figures of speech and vocabulary. Even if you rely on those techniques for Nile, I’m still advising the utmost caution due to the complexity of syntax of AAVE and other dialects. For those unfamiliar with AAVE, I go into more detail about it here. If you do decide to use vernacular language for Nile, I’m going to insist you look into copula deletion/zero copula in AAVE outside of this post. It’s usage is very complex and specific. If you decide to use colloquial language for her to really take advantage of the intelligent way that she uses style-shifting in the movie then, at the very least, remember that the other characters (with the exception of Nicky) also use colloquial language frequently in the movie as well. If Nile is the only one in your fic using colloquial language, that’s a problem.

Most of the contextual analysis as it relates to sociolinguistics is based on my own speculation and interpretation of all the data I’ve collected. They contain my own personal biases and are influenced by my own experiences. If you have another interpretation of any of this, I’m absolutely interested in hearing it. Also, there is simply not enough data for any of my observations to be definitive, especially for Joe and Nicky. The two of them combined say around the same number of sentences as Booker, and he only says half as many sentences as Andy. There are literally verb tenses/aspects that not a single person uses in the whole movie. It’s also important to note that I am fallible, and while I do think most of this is accurate, I probably fucked up and missed something or miscounted! More than once! In some cases, I was only able to find one example of something and while I’ve included those observations, they are in no way indicative of a pattern, so don’t view them as strict rules.

I threw around a lot of jargon in this, and there wasn't really an easy way to avoid doing that while talking about most of this stuff. Descriptions are provided throughout the post. I've done my best to define all the more complex and lesser-known concepts, and to provide specific examples from the movie but feel free to reach out if you're unsure about any of it. Basic English grammar things that will be helpful to know to understand all of this post: parts of speech (nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, prepositions, conjunctions, determiners, interjections), clauses (subject + predicate), tense–aspect–mood for verb conjugation (in English we have: past and non-past; perfective, imperfective, and progressive; and indicative, imperative, and subjunctive), phrase structure, auxiliary verbs, phrasal verbs, wh-movement (who, what, when, where, why, how) and sentence sequencing (in English it’s SVO, or subject-verb-object).

On ellipsis: for Andy, Nile and Booker (and Joe, a little bit), the types of ellipses I focused on were mostly the types that you only see in spoken colloquial English. For Nicky, I talked a lot more about further classification of ellipses that do sometimes apply to the other four, but aren’t as noticeable. 

For phrases, I mostly included idioms and expressions to avoid listing every single phrase in the movie. I generally avoided noun phrases (with a few exceptions), and I don't think I mention any adverb phrases. 

For my own purposes, I’ve decided to define fillers as discourse markers without lexical content that are used to indicate that the pause while speaking is only temporary. The rest of the discourse markers use standard classification.

Thank you to both @disregardandfelicity and @youknowthegirls for looking over this post for me!

Andy

Andy uses every contraction for auxiliary verbs and personal pronouns (e.g. I’m, you’ve, it’s, etc). I mean, she actually doesn't in the movie, but she comes so close that I feel confident in saying she would use all the others. The Wikipedia page for English Auxiliary Verbs has a great chart for contractions. Of the characters, she's literally the only one who does this with this level of consistency.

Her contraction usage isn't limited to personal pronouns. She uses contractions with demonstrative, interrogative, relative and indefinite pronouns. She also uses contractions with "there" and "where", and presumably with “when” and “how” although there are no examples of that in the movie. She uses contractions with negative modal verbs.

Andy uses both the simple future and the more colloquial going-to future construction at various points in the movie. She seems to have a preference for going-to future, and the only time she uses the simple future is in her dramatic opening monologue and when she’s trying to reassure Nile. Otherwise, she sticks to going-to construction.

Simple future: “Will this time be the one?”, “Me and those three men in there will keep you safe.”

Going-to future: “And you’re going to help us.”

Andy also typically uses the colloquialism “gonna” when using going-to future construction. When she uses “going to” instead, it’s during moments of sincerity. As mentioned, she also iconically uses them both in the same sentence.

"I knew this was gonna happen", "You think knowing is gonna make you sleep better at night?"

“You’re not a Marine anymore. They’re going to lock you up.”, “When we leave a footprint in the sand, in the snow, in the ether, you’re going to sweep it.”

“You’re going to protect us from those who want to put us in cages, and you’re gonna help us find those jobs that are best suited to us.”

Andy uses the verb “have” and the phrasal verb “have got” interchangeably, and with no real pattern. Important note: I am only referring to the verb “to have” in the present tense, not when "have" is used as an auxiliary. She doesn’t seem to use “have got” in the negative (i.e. “haven’t got” vs “don’t have”).

“We have to find Copley.”, “I have the new one.”

“You’ve got blood in your hair.” “He’s got Joe and Nicky.”

“We don’t have all the answers, but we do have purpose.”

Andy also uses the colloquialism “gotta” in sentences where she uses “have got” with the infinitive “to”. When she does this, she usually uses contracted have/has. Occasionally she drops the auxiliary.

"You’ve gotta feel it, Nile.”  "There's gotta be a price."

Andy drops the auxiliary when she says, "We gotta go" instead of “We’ve gotta go” and “Sometimes you gotta work with people you don’t wanna eat with” instead of “Sometimes you’ve gotta..”

Andy uses the colloquialism “wanna” in the place of “want to”.

“Well, sometimes you gotta work with people you don’t wanna eat with.” “You really wanna do this, kid?”

Andy incorrectly uses the object pronoun “me” like a true native English speaker

“Me and those three men in there will keep you safe.”

Andy seems to generally say “Yeah” but she says “Yes” when she really means it. She also says “Mm hmm.”

Andy uses several discourse markers throughout the movie. Discourse markers are words that are used to connect, organize and manage sentences while speaking. Andy uses discourse markers to start sentences, as responses, as interjections, etc. The discourse markers that Andy uses are:

Sentence openers: actually, so, come on, here, look, listen, now, oh, well, you know,

Sentence closers: I guess, maybe, right, 

Responses: yeah

Interjections: hey

Connection: to be honest

Andy doesn’t use any fillers. Instead, she pauses and repeats herself as needed.

“Remember what it... what it was like to feel unbreakable.”

Of all the characters, Andy uses the imperative mood the most (throughout the movie Andy tells someone to do something 35 times using this mood)

When Andy repeats herself for emphasis, she usually does it in pairs. The only exception is when she says “why?” three times to Booker in the scene with Copley

Andy uses ellipses, which is when words are omitted from a sentence and the sentence can still be understood. This isn’t particularly noteworthy in what it says about her speech patterns, as everyone uses elliptical construction. It’s just part of how speech works, how dialogue works and how writing works. It’s a feature of English, spoken and written, rather than an anomaly. I do feel it’s worth mentioning though, because I’m going to talk a lot about some specific kinds of ellipses (null subject, null auxiliary and zero copula) that are only found in colloquial and spoken language. For more about elliptical construction, see the Nicky section.

Andy uses noun and verb ellipses when she says, “I’ve been here before... over and over again, and each time the same question.” 

Andy uses answer ellipsis. That means that when she answers questions, she often speaks in sentence fragments rather than full sentences.

[Who’s gonna fly the plane?] “We don’t need a pilot” instead of “[Nobody is going to fly the plane.] We don’t need a pilot.”

Andy occasionally uses sentences with a truncated null subject (i.e. she doesn’t use subject pronouns), but not as frequently as the other characters. 

“Can’t wait” instead of “I can’t wait.”

Andy frequently uses null auxiliary construction and zero copula when asking questions that normally use subject-auxiliary inversion. This means that she will drop the leading auxiliary verb. For more information about zero copula, see Nile.  

Andy uses “You found Copley?” instead of “Have you found Copley?” and “Everyone still with me?” instead of “Is everyone still with me?”

When asking questions, Andy typically uses either the method described above or intonation if she can get away with it. However, she does still ask yes-no questions without dropping the auxiliary. Andy is also one of the only characters to use a disjunctive question. In contrast to the disjunctive (which is often condescending), Andy is also one of the only characters polite enough to use an indirect question.  

Intonation: “Joe and Nicky?”

Disjunctive: “You don’t speak Russian, do you?”

Indirect: “Would you like me to take one for you?”

Andy doesn’t use the subordinating conjunction “that” at any point in the movie.

“Last time I checked, you had to be American to be in the CIA” instead of “Last time that I checked...”

Andy says “What the...” when she’s confused.

Andy makes a humming sound when she’s pleased that’s transcribed as “Mmm!”. Interesting to note that every time she makes this sound, it’s in response to Nicky.

Profanity used by Andy: asshole, fuck, goddamn, motherfucker, shit, shitty

Phrases, idioms and expressions used by Andy: bend it to [your] will, broke [a promise], changes nothing, come on, do the same, enough of this, for all I care, get some sleep, go big or go home, going out for a bit, gotta go, last time I checked, let’s, next time, now and always, on board, play dead, set up, straight to [something], tie off, to be honest, welcome back, what [he] said, whatever it takes, work out

Unrelated to word count or time spent speaking, Andy says more sentences than any other character. She says more than twice as many sentences as Booker and four times as many sentences as Joe and Nicky. Nile says a little less than 2/3 as many sentences as Andy. 

Sentence composition**: 57% of Andy’s sentences are simple sentences, 31% are sentence fragments, 5% are compound sentences, 6% are complex sentences, and 1% are compound-complex sentences.

Languages spoken on-screen: English

Adjectives and adjective phrases appear in 13% of Andy’s sentences. Adverbs and adverb phrases appear in 9% of Andy’s sentences.

Andy is very consistent in her speech. She doesn’t style-shift much and almost exclusively speaks in a colloquial style of Standard American English. There are two exceptions to this: when she was talking to the tourists in Marrakesh, she was overly polite; and when she was dealing with Copley, she enunciated herself far more and was less likely to use contractions. When I say that Andy speaks Standard English, what I mean is that she speaks the dialect of English which has undergone the most regularization and standardization. It’s the one associated with public communication, the one that's used in commerce and government, and the one that has the most institutional support and sanction. Andy is very familiar and comfortable in this dialect, to the point where she even uses common grammar mistakes that native speakers do. Her speech is very casual. I would say that Andy has spent a significant amount of time recently in the United States or Canada, and I also suspect that English is the modern language that she is most comfortable in. I think that Andy has likely spent a lot of time speaking casually with other English native speakers and that her grasp of the language was formed without any kind of formal language training. Andy doesn’t use much descriptive language, and her sentences are typically short and clear. While I think Andy does read a little bit, it’s had very little impact on her speech patterns. I doubt she reads any kind of serious formal writing, or academic works. 

Nile

Nile uses every contraction for auxiliary verbs and personal pronouns (e.g. I’m, you’re, it’s, etc). She also uses them with other nouns and names. Nile is very deliberate about contraction usage. For the most part, in casual speech, she uses contractions, although she does use a lack of contractions to express disbelief or for emphasis. Nile also uses a lack of contractions to show condescension or disapproval. When she’s trying to be authoritative, she’s less likely to use contractions. When she wants to make sure she’s understood, she also doesn’t use contractions.

“I am not jumping from a plane!” “You do not listen to her, you listen to me.”

“We are looking for this man. He has killed many of our people and many of yours.”

Nile uses contractions with demonstrative, interrogative, relative and indefinite pronouns. She also uses contractions with "there", "where", “why” and “how.” She uses contractions with negative modal verbs.

Nile doesn’t use the contraction “y’all” in the movie. In fact, she specifically doesn’t use it.

“How are you all in my dreams?”

Nile uses both the simple future and the colloquial going-to future construction at various points in the movie. Like with contractions, Nile is less likely to use colloquialisms when she’s serious or trying to be authoritative. I think it’s especially poignant when she uses it to express bravery (with Booker). Nile always uses the colloquialism “gonna” when using going-to future construction. 

Simple future: “I’m the one who will walk out of there, one way or another.”

Going-to future: “People that are gonna worry.”

Nile uses the verb “have” and the phrasal verb “have got” interchangeably, however she has a very strong preference for “have got”

“You have my phone?”

“I got people that love me,” “You got a satellite link?”

Nile also uses the colloquialism “gotta” in sentences where she uses “have got” with the infinitive “to”. When she does this, she always uses null auxiliary construction (see below for more details).

“We gotta get out of here!”

Nile uses the colloquialism “wanna” in the place of “want to”.

“I just really wanna hear my mom’s voice one more time.”

Nile truncates “trying to” as “tryna”.

“I’m tryna save you, man!”

Nile truncates “out of” as “outta”

Nile uses a lot of discourse markers. She uses more discourse markers than any of the other characters, although Booker comes very close. Discourse markers are words that are used to connect, organise and manage sentences while speaking. Nile uses discourse markers to start sentences, as responses, as interjections, etc. The discourse markers that Nile uses are:

Sentence openers: so, well, wait, here, yeah, now

Sentence closers: or something, maybe, you know, okay, man

Interjections: come on, what, no way

Responses: yeah

Nile uses some fillers when speaking, however she doesn’t use them often. The fillers she uses are: uh, yeah

While Nile does occasionally use the imperative mood, she’s far more likely to give commands based on intonation alone, rather than syntax.

Intonation: “You do not listen to her, you listen to me,” “We gotta get out of here!”

Imperative: “Land this plane.”

Nile uses elliptical construction when speaking, which means that when words are omitted from a sentence, the sentence can still be understood.  Again, this in and of itself is not very noteworthy, see Nicky for more details. 

“South side of Chicago, a million different ways we could’ve went left.”

She also uses answer ellipsis, meaning that when answering questions, she speaks in sentence fragments.

Answer ellipsis: [You have someone?] “Just my family” instead of “[I have] just my family.”

Nile frequently uses null subject elliptical construction. When using null subject construction, she drops personal pronouns.

“Talked to Copley. Said he could fix it.” instead of “I talked to Copley. He said he could fix it.”

Nile’s use of ellipsis is mostly characterized by her usage of null auxiliary, which is when she drops auxiliary verbs from sentences. The way she does this is very distinct and she’s the only character who speaks like this. While the other characters who use null auxiliary construction do so in the specific context of asking questions, Nile’s usage is more complicated.

Like the others, Nile frequently uses null auxiliary construction and zero copula when asking questions that normally use subject-auxiliary inversion, but unlike the others, she also sometimes drops the auxiliary in wh- questions. For more on zero copula, see below.

"You gonna be okay?" "So, you good guys or bad guys?" 

“Where you taking me?”

Outside of asking questions, Nile also occasionally uses both null auxiliary construction and the zero copula. She is the only character who does this (Andy does this, but only with one specific word/phrase. Nile's usage is less restrictive). Zero copula is a linguistic phenomena where the subject is joined to the predicate without marking that relationship (i.e. there’s no verb). In English, the main copula is the verb “to be”, so zero copula in English describes situations where inflections of “to be” are omitted. When the characters use null auxiliary construction to omit the inflected forms of “to be” while asking questions, they are using the copula deletion. 

In the above example questions, all of them are examples of copula deletion as they are omitting inflections of the verb "to be"

When Nile says “I got people that love me”, she uses null auxiliary construction to omit the auxiliary “have”. Nile always drops the auxiliary “have” when using the “have got” form.

When Nile says “This the shit you into?” she’s actually using the zero copula twice. You’ll notice that she’s missing the leading “is” and in the dependent clause, she’s missing the “are (“Is this the shit you’re into?” in Standard English).

At one point in the movie, Nile includes a further truncated null subject, where she doesn’t use both the subject and the auxiliary verb. Joe does something similar in the present tense.

Nile says “Killed in action when I was eleven” instead of “He was killed in action when I was eleven.”

When asking questions, outside of wh- questions, Nile usually relies on intonation or dropping the auxiliary from subject-auxiliary inversion questions as described above. She does occasionally use inversion for yes/no questions without dropping the auxiliary. 

Intonation: “You have my phone?”

Indirect: “So... you’re even older than him.”

As the audience surrogate, Nile asks the most questions in the movie (she asks 69 questions LMAO)

Another way that Nile formalizes her speech is by inserting the subordinating conjunction “that” into sentences where they would normally be omitted.

“And that was a blank that you shot me with.” “But... you said that we were immortal.”

Nile says “Uh uh” to mean “no” or “don’t even think about it”

Phrases, idioms and expressions used by Nile: a little help, backed down, brains of [the] outfit, come on, follow the money, gave [them] up, honest-to-God, how the hell, what kind of [noun], killed in action, let’s go, move on, never hurts to, no way, one more time, one way or another, roger that, sit your ass down, some bullshit, son of a bitch, stay tight, steal away, went left, what’s up (greeting), 

Profanity used by Nile: ass, bitch, bullshit, damn, fuck, hell, shit

Sentence composition**: 60% of Nile’s sentences are simple sentences, 30% are sentence fragments, 3% are compound sentences, 6% are complex sentences and 1% are compound-complex sentences.

Adjectives and adjective phrases appear in 18% of Nile’s sentences. Adverbs appear in 4% of her sentences. Nile doesn’t use any adverb phrases.

Languages spoken on-screen: English, Pashto

Of all the characters, Nile’s use of English is the most deliberate. While the others are obviously fluent and capable in English, Nile’s use of style-shifting throughout the movie demonstrates a mastery of the language that the other characters simply don’t have. The way that she shifts between formal and colloquial language for emphasis, for clarity, to express disbelief or disapproval, to act authoritatively, to appear casual and friendly, and to invite others to engage with her, speaks to what she is capable of by her word and syntax choices. All of this is obviously enhanced by her tone, her cadence, her pitch, her volume and her speaking speed. 

When Nile speaks, she doesn’t speak in AAVE. That being said, her speech does contain vernacular features. The two elements of Nile’s syntax that are most noticeable are her use of the zero copula and her deletion of “have” in situations where it can be contracted (to clarify: using copula deletion is not necessarily an indicator of AAVE. When the other characters use the zero copula, they are not speaking AAVE. The subtle differences in the context of their usage of copula deletion is what makes Nile’s speech distinctly Black). Some of Nile’s word choices and noun phrases are also reflective of the typical speech of Black people, as pointed out to me by this anon. It’s very likely that Nile can speak AAVE, but doesn’t in the movie. She was raised by two Black parents in a very residentially segregated city, and while Nile didn’t specify the neighborhood she grew up in (you can make some guesses to the general area based on how she talks about it, but that’s not quite the same), Chicago’s South Side is predominantly Black, so the people she was around, the place she attended school and the church she went to were all likely predominantly Black as well. Due to the fact that Standard English is the language taught in public schools in the United States, Nile has obviously also developed a fluency in that dialect as well and can probably code switch between the two dialects. The fact that she doesn’t speak AAVE in the movie isn’t particularly unusual. Society is largely hostile towards Black people speaking AAVE, so language self-policing becomes a survival tool. Nile had also just spent an indefinite amount of time in the US military, which has its own style which has its own style of speaking as well which she would have been using. And then she basically got kidnapped by mostly white people, some of whom have noticeable accents, so having her speak AAVE would’ve been an odd character choice, but not totally implausible.

The way that Nile switches between formal and colloquial English is a type of code switching that I would honestly refer to more as style-shifting. Because she isn’t actually speaking AAVE, I can’t say how the dialect factors into her speech patterns. I think it’s possible that Nile’s ability to style-shift between formal and informal language could have been an ability that she developed as a result of needing to code switch between AAVE and Standard English in an educational environment. I do want to make it very clear however, that when I’m talking about Nile style-shifting, it has very little bearing on the vernacular features of her speech, but rather the colloquial features like contractions, verb choice, ellipsis and her use of phrasal verbs. It’s possible that she uses code switching in the same way, however we don’t have evidence of that in the movie.

Booker

Booker uses most contractions, but not all, and with much less consistency than Andy or deliberate purpose like Nile. He uses contractions for auxiliaries and their inflected forms for personal pronouns. When speaking casually, he uses contractions, but when he’s upset, he uses them far less consistently. He doesn’t use contractions with the past tense inflected form of have (i.e. “had”).

Booker uses contractions with demonstrative, interrogative, relative and indefinite pronouns. He also uses contractions with "there", "where" and “how. He uses contractions with negative modal verbs.

Booker uses both the simple future and the going-to future construction at various points in the movie. He doesn’t seem to have a preference either way.

Simple future: “They will get to learn your secret.”

Going-to future: “It’s gonna take time.”

Booker always uses the colloquialism “gonna” when using going-to future construction.

Booker doesn’t seem to use the phrasal verb “have got” but I could only find one instance of him using the verb “to have” in the present tense, so this isn’t definitive either way. If I had to take a guess, I’d say that, like Andy, he uses “to have” and “have got” interchangeably.

Even though Booker speaks less than Nile and Andy, he uses close to the same amount of discourse markers as them, meaning that they appear far more regularly in his speech. Discourse markers are words that are used to connect, organize and manage sentences while speaking. Booker uses discourse markers to start sentences, as responses, as interjections, etc. The discourse markers he uses are:

Sentence openers: come on, hey, oh, well, listen, I mean, ooh (expressing pleasure), yeah

Sentence closers: right, of course

Responses: yeah, alright

Interjections: hey, ow! (expressing victory)

Connections: by the way, tell you what

Of all the characters, Booker uses the most fillers when speaking. The fillers that he uses are: oh, uh, um, yeah 

Booker pauses and repeats himself as needed. He only does this when he’s upset. Otherwise, he seems to use fillers instead.

“Everyone you love is gonna... is gonna suffer and is gonna die."

When Booker repeats himself for emphasis, he always does it in pairs.

Booker often uses elliptical construction, and the most frequent type seems to be null auxiliary construction. He does use other types of ellipses though (For more about ellipsis, see Nicky). 

“Just because we keep living doesn’t mean we stop hurting.”

Booker uses answer ellipsis, but almost to the point of incomprehensibility. Dude just gives the bare minimum. That means that when he answers questions, he speaks in sentence fragments rather than full sentences.

Answer ellipsis: [You found Copley?] “Nothing, but dead ends” instead of “[I found] nothing but dead ends.”

Booker frequently uses sentences with a truncated null subject (i.e. he doesn’t use subject pronouns).

“Lost the plot after that” instead of “I lost the plot after that”

Booker frequently uses null auxiliary construction and zero copula when asking questions that normally use subject-auxiliary inversion. For more information about zero copula, see Nile.

Booker says “You good?” instead of “Are you good?” and “You have someone?” instead of “Do you have someone?”

When asking questions, Booker almost always uses either the method described above, or intonation. The only time Booker asks a question without dropping the auxiliary is when he says “Are you all right, boss?” to Andy in the cave. 

Intonation: “Oh, she gave it back?”

Booker doesn’t generally use the subordinating clause “that,” but he will sometimes.

“What I do know is she was alone for a long time before she found anyone like her.”

“And they will tell you... that you don’t love them.”

At two separate points in the movie, Booker references Elizabethan literature. “Misery loves company” is from Dr. Faustus by Marlowe and “That way madness lies” is from King Lear by Shakespeare

Phrases, expressions and idioms used by Booker: all in, by the way, calm down, change of clothes, come on, dead ends, give [her] time, give me your hand, how’s it going?, I’ll see you soon, in the open, leave no footprints, let’s go, lost the plot, moving out, misery loves company, reach out, stick to the plan, take time, tell you what, what’s going on, won’t hurt

Profanity used by Booker: shit, putain de merde

Sentence composition**: 59% of Booker’s sentences are simple sentences, 24% are sentence fragments, 3% are compound sentences, 9% are complex sentences, 1% are compound-complex sentences and 4% are not in English

Adjectives and adjective phrases appear in 16% of Booker’s sentences. Adverbs and adverb phrases appear in 8% of Booker’s sentences. 

Languages spoken on-screen: English, French, Italian

We know from Booker’s backstory that he’s French and he’s from Marseilles, and other people have spoken about how Booker’s native language would likely have been Occitan, although he speaks French as well. Like Andy, Joe and Nicky, English is not Booker’s native language, although he does speak it with a high degree of fluency. While there are aspects of Booker’s speech that are more related to him being a non-native English speaker, I wanted to talk about French first. It’s worth noting that French is the only Romance language that isn't a null subject language (and as far as I can tell, Occitan isn’t either). This means that when Booker uses null subject construction, that’s either something he picked up from another language or from being around people speaking colloquial English. The thing that stands out to me the most about Booker’s speech though, is actually the way he uses intonation (and to a certain extent, null auxiliary construction as well) when asking questions. While French can use subject-auxiliary inversion, for the most part, you just ask questions by intonation. In the French dub of the movie when Booker asks “You travel?” he says “T’as voyagé?” which in English directly translates to “You travelled?” or “You’ve travelled?” While I could get into semantics about verb tenses, do-support and modality, what I’m getting at here is that both “You travel?” and “T’as voyagé?” mean the same thing and are expressed in a form that feels semantically similar to me even if it’s not syntactically similar, in the same way that ending a question with the tag “right?” (which Booker uses a lot) feels the same as the tag “non?”

There are a couple of things that I think are interesting about Booker’s manner of speech. Booker primarily speaks in simple and fragmented sentences, which is pretty normal, but what’s different about him is the way that a lot of his speech is referential. What I mean is that Booker relies on a lot of common phrases, common clauses, clichés and quotations when he speaks. In a lot of ways, Booker speaks the way your typical action hero is supposed to. You get a sense of Booker engaging in a broader cultural and literary conversation. I don’t know how to explain this exactly, but when Booker speaks, you just know he reads and that he watches tv and movies. And not just that, but that he borrows and imitates aspects of what he reads. But besides the pragmatic element of Booker’s speech, all of the things that are notable about Booker’s speech are things that you also see in Andy, Joe and Nicky. Syntactically, there’s nothing about Booker’s speech that is distinctly unique to him, unlike the rest of the characters who all have their own little quirks. It’s almost like Booker is imitating the others, or borrowing someone else’s words. There is one notable exception, and that’s when Booker is talking to Nile in the cave. As the conversation goes on, you see this breakdown of Booker’s language as he attempts to tell his own story. Suddenly, a lot of the conventions established about Booker’s speech prior to this scene don’t apply. Obviously there are multiple explanations for this, ranging from English not being his first language to the fact that he was talking about something deeply personal and traumatizing to someone who was essentially a stranger. But what makes this scene stand out is the fact that in his next major scene, Booker is clearly on the verge of a full breakdown, but because he’s again relying on this established lexicon, you don’t see it reflected in his speech the same way that it is in the cave.

Joe

When Joe bothers with personal pronouns, he usually uses contractions with auxiliary verbs (e.g. I’m, she’s, it’s, etc). The exception to this is that Joe doesn’t use contractions with the past tense inflected auxiliary form of have (i.e. “had”).

Joe uses contractions with demonstrative, interrogative, relative and indefinite pronouns. He also uses contractions with "there". He uses contractions with negative modal verbs.

Joe only uses a future tense once in the entire film, and when he does, he uses going-to future construction. When he uses going-to future construction he uses the colloquialism “gonna"

“What are you gonna do?”

Joe doesn’t use the colloquial “have got” and always uses “to have”. 

“We have to find her”, “Well, now you have even more.”

This may be because Joe isn’t in the movie as much as the first three, or that he just genuinely doesn't use them often, but he uses considerably fewer discourse markers. Discourse markers are words that are used to connect, organize and manage sentences while speaking. Joe uses discourse markers to start sentences, and as interjections. The discourse markers that Joe uses are:

Sentence openers: oh, so, well, yeah

Interjections: hey, what

After Booker, Joe uses the second most amount of fillers. He uses more fillers when having a back-and-forth style conversation with someone than when he’s essentially monologuing. The fillers that Joe uses are: mmm, uh

Joe sometimes uses ellipses when speaking. Again, not super noteworthy, but I wanted to mention it nonetheless. 

“He’s the moon when I’m lost in darkness and warmth when I shiver in cold.”

Joe uses answer ellipsis in the movie, but he doesn’t actually speak in sentence fragments when he does this. While answer ellipsis is pretty standard in English, Joe’s commitment to saying more than was asked of him isn’t.

[So... you’re even older than him.] “Nicky and I met in the Crusades.” instead of “[Yes, we are.] Nicky and I met in the Crusades.”

Joe uses sentences with a null subject (i.e. he doesn’t use subject pronouns).

“Depends on the century.” “Fought thousands of battles side by side.”

Joe uses sentences which have both a null subject and uses copula deletion. See Nile for more details on zero copula.

“Very pissed off.” “Faster than the elevator.”

In the movie, Joe only really asks wh- questions. He does ask a few using intonation, although most of those questions act more like additional tags on a wh-question, rather than a question by itself. As such, it's unclear whether Joe uses null auxiliary construction or the zero copula when asking questions.

Intonation: "Bedhead?” “So we just leave her out in the open?”

When Joe repeats himself for emphasis, it’s usually in groups of three. 

Joe says “what” when he doesn’t hear something/doesn’t understand something

As previously mentioned, Joe uses some formal words like "thus" and the impersonal pronoun "one". Here are some other words to consider having Joe use unironically as well: alas, amidst, await, behest, ergo, hence, latter, much, nor, notwithstanding, promptly, quite, shall (modal), thence, thereupon, thoroughly, whereas, whom (used correctly of course), yield

Even though Joe speaks quite formally a lot of the time, he never uses the subordinating conjunction “that” when it can be omitted.

“The first immortal Andy found.”

Phrases, expressions and idioms used by Joe: all in, attention to detail, come on, I guess, out in the open, measure and reason, over a [time period], piece of shit, proved [their] case, side by side, way back

Profanity used by Joe: goddamnit, shit

Unrelated to word count or time spent speaking, Joe says the least amount of sentences out of the five main characters, although this doesn’t mean very much, considering Nicky says exactly one more sentence than him. 

Sentence composition**: 57% of Joe’s sentences are simple sentences, 21% are sentence fragments, 5% are compound sentences, 4% are complex sentences, 4% are compound complex sentences and 9% are not in English.

Adjectives and adjective phrases appear in 29% of Joe’s sentences. Adverbs and adverb phrases appear in 8% of Joe’s sentences.

Languages spoken on-screen: English, Italian

The best way to describe Joe’s manner of speaking is that it’s like he has two different styles. You get the sense that sometimes Joe just says whatever and sometimes he says something that he’s rehearsed in his head. Joe is a Maghrebi Muslim man from the Islamic Golden Age so he comes from a culture and time with a rich history of and respect for both written and spoken poetry, both impromptu and memorized. I think he carries that tradition quite well. When Joe is orating (van speech and Quynh backstory), his sentences are much more structured and he uses more formal language. He doesn't speak in sentence fragments, he doesn't use any colloquial language besides contractions and he doesn't use discourse markers or fillers like he does in the more casual back-and-forth conversations. If you look at Joe's sentence composition percentages, you'll notice that Joe has comparatively less sentence fragments than other characters and that’s purely because when he orates, it's in full sentences (minus poetic ellipsis, but that's allowed). That's why it seems to me as though Joe rehearses some of what he says in advance. I don’t know the extent to which he does that, but at the very least it seems like he’s sat down and thought “how would I explain Quynh to the new immortal?” or “What would I say to someone belittling my relationship with Nicky?” Even in the delivery of the line “Faster than the elevator” there is quite a long pause between him seeing that Nile jumped out a window and actually making the joke, as if he’s thinking about it first. The majority of the sentences Joe says are in the van speech and while telling Quynh’s backstory. In casual conversations, Nicky seems to take the lead more than Joe.

I’d also speculate that Joe is quite literate. Obviously there’s his own affinity for storytelling and oration, but his use of language hints at a larger vocabulary. You see him use a frequently neglected pronoun in English and a relatively formal adverb. He also uses adjectives like “grotesque” and “infantile”. He does end sentences while prepositions though, so he obviously does not give a fuck about John Dryden and Joshua Poole. That being said, I think the idea of rearranging Joe’s sentences so they don’t end in prepositions is funny and fits his whole vibe.

Joe uses null subject construction in English, and while that’s pretty common in everyday speech in English, it is worth noting that both Italian and Arabic are null subject languages. The way that Joe uses null construction in English is far more similar to Italian than Arabic, which requires a change in sentence sequencing but I still think it’s neat. The thing that Arabic brings to the table that I’m more intrigued by is the fact that it’s a zero copula language. It’s not a matter of copula deletion like AAVE, there straight up is not a copula in the present tense, so the lack of a verb (and specific sentence sequencing) is the copula in the present tense. When Joe drops both subject and verb in the present tense he is, in effect, simulating a similar situation due to the ambiguity of the sentences themselves where the only way you can correctly interpret the sentence is by understanding that the missing verb must be a copula. He gets rid of a subject pronoun as a shout out to Italian, I guess, but also because it would sound so silly if he didn’t. I don’t think Joe necessarily picked up this habit from Arabic, but I do think it’s a fun coincidence.

Nicky

Of all the characters, Nicky has the least consistent contraction usage for personal pronouns and auxiliaries (e.g. I’ve, you’re, it’s, etc). There are examples throughout the film of him using a contraction and then in the next scene he just doesn’t. Unlike with the other characters, who have a discernable pattern (Andy always uses contractions, Nile uses contractions for dramatic emphasis, Booker becomes more inconsistent with contractions when upset, Joe doesn’t use contractions in certain tenses), Nicky is totally random in his contraction usage.

My personal favourite example of this is: “She’s more alone than she has ever been in her entire life.”

Nicky uses contractions with demonstrative, interrogative, relative and indefinite pronouns, however this usage is just as inconsistent as with personal pronouns. He also uses contractions with "there.” He uses contractions with negative modal verbs.

Outside of contractions, Nicky doesn't seem to use colloquialisms in the movie.

Nicky doesn’t use the colloquial going-to future construction and relies on simple future construction

“You will not be able to give him what he wants”, “If it’s now Andromache’s, nothing you do will stop it.

Nicky doesn’t use the colloquial phrasal verb “have got” and instead uses “have”

“I have something for you”

Nicky only has a few discourse markers in the movie. Discourse markers are words that are used to connect, organise and manage sentences while speaking. Nicky uses discourse markers to start sentences, as interjections and as responses. The discourse markers that he uses are:

Sentence openers: so

Interjections: hey, wait, what

Responses: yeah

Nicky doesn’t use any fillers. Instead, he pauses and repeats himself as needed.

"I believe it's because we... we are meant to find each other"

In my other post, I mentioned that Nicky speaks in full sentences, and while that is mostly true, it’s a bit of an oversimplification. While that kind of a statement is fine for an overview post, I felt it would be disingenuous to leave it at that. Nicky speaks in sentence fragments just like everyone else. In fact, he speaks in sentence fragments more than Joe does. He uses ellipsis, but the way he does it is functionally different from the specific methods of null subject, null auxiliary and zero copula that I’ve talked about with the other characters. While the others are quite formulaic about their usage of ellipses, Nicky’s is far more nebulous because it’s very much dependent on context. 

Nicky uses answer ellipses, like the others.

[Bedhead?] “Nicely tousled.”

The next way that Nicky uses ellipses might better be described as anaphora. That means when he’s eliding words, the omitted words in the sentence can be found through the context of the sentence preceding it. 

The sentence “The only reason we haven’t... is that it’s not our time yet” is missing a past participle. The missing verb is found in the previous sentence: “Everything has to die, Mr. Merrick.”

In fact, almost all of Nicky’s use of sentence fragments and ellipses can most easily be characterized this way. If the sentence that Nicky says is incomplete in some way by itself, that’s usually because he’s referring to something either he, or someone else, has said. In some cases, it’s as if he’s continuing or adding additional information to the sentence preceding it.

“We killed each other.” “Many times.”

“It was a woman. A Black woman.”

Another way of characterizing some of his use of ellipses is to imagine he’s using answer ellipsis to a question nobody asked him. 

[What did you see?] “Dirt floor, clay walls.”

In one particular instance, Nicky says the noun phrase “A fine justification.” It’s already an example of anaphora, as it is referring back to Kozak’s “I believe this can change the world.” Nicky’s sentence bears some similarity to Joe’s “Faster than the elevator” as it’s also an example of a sentence which is missing both verb and subject, however when Joe uses this kind of construction, he only does so before an adjective phrase. One could extrapolate from this that Nicky uses null subject and zero copula construction with adjective phrases and Joe similarly uses it for noun phrases, but that’s just speculation.

The final way that we see Nicky use ellipsis is honestly the most baffling and I’m still not entirely sure how to best explain it. The sentence is “Spend eternity in a cage.” It is clearly not the imperative mood, it wouldn't make sense for Nicky to be telling Nile to spend eternity in a cage. Unlike the other examples of Nicky’s use of ellipsis, the preceding sentence (“That’s the reason we dread capture”) provides context but not specific form. Breaking it down from an English language perspective, the only thing that makes sense to me is that “spend” is actually the infinitive phrase “to spend” where the infinitive "to" has been elided and there is an implied “[We are afraid][to] spend eternity in a cage.” I want to be clear here: I understand this sentence. I know what Nicky is saying, I simply have no idea why I know what he's saying. I don't understand why this sentence works. For further theories, look at the section on sociolinguistics at the bottom.

Sometimes Nicky adds unnecessary pronouns to a sentence.

“But then, Andy and Quynh, they were accused of witchcraft themselves and they were trapped and caught.”

Nicky does use the subordinating conjunction “that” but there are also times when he doesn’t. The common Nicky pattern of *shrug*

“The only reason we haven’t... is that it’s not our time yet”

“As much as I like watching you sleep, I’m glad you’re awake.”

When Nicky asks questions, he doesn’t use any kind of null auxiliary construction or zero copula for subject-auxiliary inversion questions. Nicky is also the only other character (after Andy) polite enough to ask indirect questions, and he uses them when talking to people who kidnapped him, which is kind of a power move. Nicky doesn’t seem to use intonation much when asking questions either.

Subject auxiliary inversion (yes/no questions): “Are we too late?” “Are you sure?”

Indirect: “I don’t suppose it would be possible to get these chains off of us?”

Intonation: “Nile?”

Phrases, expressions and idioms used by Nicky: as much, cast off, do you know, get some rest, getting away, I suppose/don’t suppose, judge of character, love of my life, 

Sentence composition**: 47% of Nicky’s sentences are simple sentences, 24% are sentence fragments, 3% are compound sentences, 15% are complex sentences, 2% are compound complex and 9% are not in English.

Adjectives and adjective phrases appear in 23% of Nicky’s sentences. Adverbs appear in 6% of Nicky’s sentences. Nicky doesn’t use adverb phrases.

Languages: English, Italian, Nuer

Before I start this, I want to say that despite having a strong accent, I think Nicky is quite proficient in English. He knows the subtle differences between words like “unethical” and “immoral,” he’s aware of and capable of using expressions with irregular syntax and he uses sophisticated linguistic phenomena in English. He uses so many complex sentences it makes my head spin. Leaving all that aside, I think that Nicky probably translates from Italian into English while speaking. Like Nile, Nicky is very deliberate about his language but in a different way. While Nile uses style-shifting to accomplish a number of different things, Nicky is primarily concerned with clarity. I think that Nicky’s tendency towards more formal language is a kind of overcompensation to make sure that he’s being understood. Another thing worth noting is that I think Nicky has actively studied language before, in a class setting or by himself, and has at least some knowledge of linguistics (specifically syntax). At the very least, he is knowledgeable about both Italian and English syntax.

This theory is largely based around the idea of overcompensation. Nicky is primarily concerned with the clarity of speech and because of that, he doubles-down on grammar and structure. Italian is a null subject language so you actually see Nicky use null subject construction when he says “Sono qui” and “Dovremmo tonarci” but you don’t see anything similar in the way that he speaks English even though all the other characters frequently rely on truncated null subjects. He demonstrates a clear awareness of the standard language restrictions of English and how that compares to the restrictions of Italian. And not just that: there’s actually an example in the movie where Nicky adds an extra and unnecessary pronoun in English. In another sentence, Nicky could have used a contraction on two separate instances and deliberately only contracted one of them because the contractions were two different tenses. For the most part, this overcompensation makes it so Nicky’s speech—while unconventional—is still grammatically correct. That’s how you get things like Nicky saying, “The love of my life was of the people I’ve been taught to hate,” which isn’t how most native-speakers would intuitively phrase it themselves and as a result, a further layer of nuance is added by the use of the Present Perfect Continuous. Despite the fact that Nicky uses some unconventional phrasing in English, he doesn’t seem particularly bothered by it or concerned about it. He’s more than willing to experiment with his speech and seems very confident in it as well. That’s why I think he has some kind of formal language training with English, because he clearly understands the system that he’s working with but is less aware of some of the common ways of speaking. I seriously doubt that Joe and Nicky spend much time speaking to each other in English.

Another point that I think is worth mentioning: while Joe seems to thrive while orating and speaks relatively simply otherwise, Nicky is the exact opposite. Nicky’s language capabilities are on full display when he’s engaging in discourse, but when he’s telling Nile about Quynh, you see a lot more irregular syntax structure from him. It’s during this discussion that you hear the line “Spend eternity in a cage,” that I’ve struggled with above. The other possible explanation for the use of this unconventional sentence construction was actually given to me by @rhubarbdreams, who said that the sentence actually makes more sense syntactically in Italian, which has an impersonal imperative. In fact, in the Italian dub, that’s allegedly what it does (“per non passare l'eternità in una gabbia.”) Whether Nicky’s apparent tendency towards unconventional speech in this circumstance is a chronic tendency from overthinking while speaking English or a result of the specific topic they were discussing is up for personal interpretation, although I do think it’s interesting that Nicky was the one primarily leading conversation up until Joe took over specifically when they were recounting a story. I think this is especially interesting considering Nicky was apparently a priest, however this might just be a limitation to him in languages he doesn’t use as often. 

Bonus: Quynh

Quynh doesn’t have that many lines, so it’s not really possible to do any kind of meaningful analysis about her speech patterns (she says 16 sentences and 10 of those are screaming “no” or someone’s name). That being said, I do want to look at all the lines she presumably said in English (I’m ignoring Lykon’s death scene because if Lykon really did die in the 6th or 7th century, then they absolutely weren’t speaking Modern English, you know?)

So first we have the lines from the witch trials:

“I’ve never been burned alive before. What do you think it’s gonna be like?”

“Just you and me.”

Okay so obviously there’s some ambiguity over exactly when this happened, since Joe said 500 years in a box and TOGTH lists it happening around 1750. In the comics, Noriko fell overboard around 1590. I simply think the 1750 date is incorrect based on when people were being burned at the stake for witchcraft and heresy. I could talk more about that and my own headcanons about when it happened, but this is a post about linguistics, so what’s important to take from all this is that it probably took place at the earliest sometime in the late 15th century and, at the latest, the very beginning of the 17th century.

Taking all that into consideration, I can say almost certainly that all of Quynh’s lines are some kind of misremembered modern translation of what she actually said. She uses two contractions (I’ve and it’s) that were maybe in use, but likely uncommon. “It’s” was used, although you would be far more likely to see its counterpart “tis”, and contractions with “have” and “had” were only becoming common towards the end of the 16th century. There’s also the problem of the pronoun “you” and how singular “you” would not have been used in this informal context. And since “you” should be the singular “thou”, the archaic singular second-person conjugation of “do” would instead be correct. And finally: going-to future construction may have been used at the time (I can’t speak to the commonality of it), but I honestly can’t say with any certainty whether the colloquial “gonna” was in use. The first recorded use seems to be the 19th century. I’m sure there are other things that are anachronistic about the speech but I don’t know enough about Early Modern English morphology and syntax to speculate any more about it. 

So yeah, Andy and Quynh’s conversation is either Andy’s misremembering of it in Modern English, it was never in English in the first place like the other scene, or just Hollywood movie magic for the viewers (I would love to see someone attempt to translate it back into Early Modern English though, I’m just saying).

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

The one line that I feel has legitimate value in the analysis of Quynh’s speech patterns in English is the final one that she says to Booker. She’s using ME, obviously, with its contractions and singular “you.” She’s also using a modified idiom, “Nice to meet you”, which is interesting because that absolutely wouldn’t have been used when she went under water considering the word “nice” was derogatory at the time. All of this implies to me that Quynh has definitely spent time on land before she finds Booker. Also she split the infinitive ("to meet"). I don't know what that says about her speech, but I sure am looking at it.

Fun Quynh fact: of the 6 times that Andy’s full name is used in the movie, half of them are said by Quynh

**A note on sentence composition: I intentionally didn't go into detail about sentence composition outside of brief mentions. If any of you are curious about it, you can ask. I'm more than willing to discuss sentence clause structure, but I didn't want this to become even longer and more convoluted than it already is. Part of why I’m reluctant to give it any weight here is because of how lenient I was with what was considered a sentence fragment vs. a simple sentence, as the characters are speaking colloquial English. A movie isn’t formal writing and to evaluate dialogue by that same metric is silly. Also, I considered interjections sentence fragments to start and then realized halfway through that that was a bad idea and they should have had their own separate section, but at that point I was in too deep, and didn’t want to go back and do it all again. In the same way, there are sentences that I considered compound or complex sentences, but that “technically” aren’t because a lot of characters drop pronominal subjects and like. Officially you can’t have null subject clauses in English, because that’s not how the language works on paper (imperative mood aside). Or they elided part of the sentence so that technically it's not a clause. But people don’t actually care about stuff like that when they talk. Also I may have messed up a few times, because complex sentences are hard and sometimes I get phrases and clauses confused. It can be difficult to tell when there’s a lot happening, you know? (this is about Nicky. Sir, why do you talk like that) 

If you’re a fanfic writer, I’m going to advise that you take the part about sentence composition with a grain of salt or ignore it entirely, unless you’re already familiar with sentence clause structure in English. It will not be helpful to you for writing character dialogue until you’ve actually put in the work to understand it and practice. As mentioned, I still mess it up sometimes if a sentence has too many phrases. Basically, if you think too hard about it, I guarantee it’ll stress you out.

[thefanficmonster]

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult. 

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better. 

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face. 

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions. 

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery. 

Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that. 

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance.  I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

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[writing-in-april]

Soured Nostalgia

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When Reader moves their stuff in to Spencer’s apartment they find photos that he kept over the years. One photo of the past springs up memories of Spencer’s precious relationship with Elle.

A/N: hey heeeyyy everybody- here’s a fic I’ve been really excited to share with everyone. It’s my eleventh fic for my 30 fics in 30 days!!! This was the original request (I made it a little different lol I hope you like it)I had a fun time with it mostly cause I totally think Spencer and Elle had something going on at some point 😉 Plus I got to incorporate older angsty post prison Spencer and mention how he used to be a little baby ☺️ I’m curious to hear y’all’s thoughts about the Reidaway ship, or really anything so feel free to drop an ask to my inbox here. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Joking about being jealous???, Reidaway in the past, Spencer being sad about the people who’ve left him, Sub Spencer, Only a bit of dry sex, Masturbation, Unprotected sex, Use of a belt to restrain, A few taps on the cheek, Reader’s hand is around Spencer’s throat for a second

Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.2k

Reminiscing on the past was difficult depending on how the story had ended. Memories that may have been happy could turn too painful because of the ending result. Age turned the memories into unreliable accounts as well, unable to truly remember how things had been back then and how you had truly felt.

Memories were still something to hold onto and cherish even though they got twisted with age and opinion. Nostalgia, a sentimental or wishful affection for the past, was an addictive feeling even if it made you cry. It remained addictive even if most of your past memories had hurt you with no sentiment attached. Everyone always chased the euphoric feelings they had when looking at the ghosts of their past. Sometimes even when looking back you can find something that had once soured had turned sweet again.

Spencer had many memories that he was no longer able to look back upon for a host of reasons. Most often it was because he could no longer bear to look back on a memory of someone who had left him. Whether it was his Dad, Gideon, Hotch, Blake, Elle, and many others, looking back at them just made him often feel like everyone in his entire life had left him.

That wasn’t true of course, he still had his Mom- and you. Even with his Mom there were still many of his memories with her were still stained with guilt, though that had gotten better with time and with your help.

You had begun helping him find the benefit in looking back, trying to make the soured nostalgia a bit sweeter again. It was getting easier as time ticked by for him to open up to you about everything in his past, the good and the bad. At first you had been staring at a wall that he had been building higher and higher throughout the years, it was daunting how tall it was. When you helped take a sledgehammer to it, making it crumble beneath your effort, he pulled away for a while. He felt comfortable by himself behind his own Great Wall until you showed him the benefits of sharing the secrets he held behind it. But, you still stayed, helping him as much as you could until he was willing to open up.

It had been many months since you started your effort to help him break it down. At some point in the last months you had both fallen into a relationship, a romantic one. What had once been a platonic relationship forged from shared interests evolved into a romance emerging from the rubble of his wall.

He had even given you a key to his apartment at one point, which he had never done with anyone except the bureau. Emily was the one that really had it, but that was strictly for work reasons. This was a show of trust which was much more helpful than his wall that had reached the heights of a skyscraper.

A simple key soon turned into you staying at his place more often than at your own. You had casually mentioned one day while watching one of Spencer’s favorite documentaries that you basically lived here now. It was a true statement, most of the clothes you wore on a daily basis had been given a spot in his dresser and the toothbrush you kept there was not the one you used for travel- that one was at your place. You had begun to put your mark on Spencer’s life in a more permanent way than before.

When he had spontaneously suggested the next day that you should move in with him, you knew that your small comment had stuck in his brain. It was easy to agree to, you had said you basically already lived here, plus living with the love of your life sounded like a dream. You only had a few things that you wanted to bring over and it was mostly decorative stuff that you could’ve let go if Spencer hadn’t insisted that he wanted you to make the space your own.

While turning the space that was once solely Spencer’s into something for you both, you had found a small clear box with a blue lid, filled with pictures. Spencer didn’t have a lot of personal pictures framed, there was one with you and him by the bed, one with the team by his desk, one with him and Morgan on the living room wall, and one with you two and his Mom also hung up in the living room.

When you had shown him the box he could tell you were curious, letting you look through it without a moment of hesitation. In the past Spencer would have been wary sharing his memories with you, but now he’d let you look. If only you could get him to look at the box with you.

You weren’t surprised he didn't want to look with you once you saw the people littered throughout the snapshots. Varying people that had left were in most of them, even some you never met.

Ones with Hotch and Gideon- even one from a long time ago with his father buried at the bottom. As you browsed through them you were glad he was able to hang up that photo of him and Morgan, at least they had parted with some closure. It also helped that he still saw him regularly, he had never fully left like some of the people from his past.

One picture in particular stood out to you, it was another team photo, they seemed more carefree in this one compared to now. There was baby Spencer, before you had known him, in a birthday boy hat smiling with the rest of the team. You guessed it was around his 23rd or 24th birthday, going by the slick back gelled hair he had sported in his earlier years. He seemed so much more different back then, perhaps more carefree compared to now. But, he also seemed much more unsure of himself, maybe a bit self conscious. In the photo you could tell he was nervous, just by the look in his eyes. He still had that same look in his eyes whenever he felt nervous.

Then you looked closer at where his eyes were focused on, there was a clear line of sight from him to Elle. Elle was way less nervous in this captured moment compared to Spencer, though from what you had heard she had always been like that.

Your gaze on the photo was broken when Spencer then came into the living room where you were sitting on the couch.

You decided to test the waters to see if he might want to take a look at the photo with you, “Why do you look so nervous in this photo?”

He stopped the path he had been taking, then stood still for a second before deciding to sit next to you on the couch. Straining his neck he gazed over at the photo you were holding in your hands. It was silent for a while as he looked over it, stopping to look at his old team. Some of the team still remained intact, namely JJ, but she wasn’t the same as she had been all those years ago. You let him take it from your hands, so he could look at it closer. He cleared his throat a little, though his voice still came out slightly raspy when he spoke, though he didn’t answer the question you had asked him,“It’s the only picture I ever had taken with Elle…”

“I know you guys were- close.” You didn’t ask your previous question again, sensing that it was still too much to talk about in specifics. What he was telling you right now was even more than what he told you, only telling you that she was his first, everything. Any supplemental information was from talking discreetly to JJ about it one night because you were somewhat curious.

Tiptoeing around the relationship you knew that they had previously was like walking through a minefield. You tried the best that you could to avoid making him too upset. When you got him to open up, it wasn’t by forcing him to talk all at once. Busting the wall down was done brick by brick, not all at once.

“I’m glad you aren’t jealous of her.” His comment was said with less sadness than before. It was nice to see a glimpse of the weight coming off of his shoulders, even if it was just for a moment.

“What? Do you want me to be jealous of her?” You teased, lightheartedly so he wouldn’t dwell on the sad aspect of their past relationship. He smiled softly which deepened when you playfully stuck your tongue out and crossed your arms.

“No- you’ve got nothing to be jealous about…” Any playfulness in his voice was erased as his sentence trailed off. You didn’t say anything for a moment in case he wanted to continue his thought. And, after a moment of silence he did, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left…”

“I know- I was just joking about being jealous. I know how much she meant to you…” His eyes moved away from you, at first you thought it might be because he was still feeling the pain of losing her all those years ago. But, there was something else in his eyes, it naturally made you curious, “What are you thinking about?”

“If you were jealous- what would you have done?” His mind must have shifted away from thinking about the ending of his memories with Elle, which was a step in the right direction. At least he wasn’t avoiding the topic all together, he was still talking about her in a sense.

You bit your lip, thinking about what direction you could take this in. You weren’t going to lie, your mind had gone straight into the gutter at his suggestion and by the look on Spencer’s face so had his.

“Hmmm…” You pretended to ponder while you moved from where you were sitting on the couch to sit on something better, Spencer’s lap. Straddling him then with ease you looked down at his face tracing his cheeks with your fingers. His pupils were blown wide now, almost completely devouring his iris that had become a small ring. He didn’t say anything yet, waiting for you to continue your thought obediently, “I think I would do things to you that I suspect she never did.”

He gulped hard, hard enough that you could hear it. You continued to trace your fingers along his face, sometimes picking a lock of his hair to twirl, waiting for him to say something else like you knew he wanted to. It only took a few more seconds of your touches and your eyes staring into his own before he asked, “C-Can you show me?”

You stopped your movements, pausing for dramatic effect before crushing his lips onto your own. He squared into your mouth at first, clearly taken off guard by your sudden kiss. Before he had processed what was going on enough to let you, you forced your tongue into his mouth, earning you a delicious moan from him.

When you moved again suddenly, separating your mouth with his for just a moment, he tried to chase your lips. Pushing a finger to his lips you then used that to push him back into the couch, then answering his question, “Gladly.”

You kept your finger on his mouth to seal them shut. He could have opened it easily to respond to you, but he wanted to see what you might do next.

Instead of going back to kissing him you started to pull his belt off of him. It was difficult with one hand, taking much longer than it would be with two. But, you still kept your finger rested in the position most people use to shush someone.

Once the belt had finally been pulled from the belt loops of his slacks you finally removed your finger from his mouth. He still remained quiet, his eyes following your every move intently. You then went to work, pinning his hands above his head, then beginning to restrain them with his belt.

“Did she do this to you?” Goading him while you looped the belt around his hands. You made sure to go as slow as possible while you restrained him just to make it last longer until you gave him what he wanted. You even began to grind down on his cock a little bit, it obviously ached to be free from its confines in his trousers by how strained the slacks were getting.

“No!” His voice was broken and breathy, exactly how you wanted it as you tightened the belt around his hand a little more.

Once you were satisfied that the belt was tight enough you got off of him to remove the shorts you had been wearing, along with the rest of your clothes. Normally when you were naked and Spencer was clothed it would be when you were underneath him as a sort of power play. In this position, where he couldn’t move without fear of consequences while you restraddled him completely naked was almost even more empowering.

To play with the dynamic even more you had him remain confined in his slacks for a while longer, while you touched yourself. You were already quite wet from seeing Spencer in this position and exerting that power by pumping your fingers in you while he could do nothing had you dripping onto his slacks.

Spencer’s jaw had gone slack while watching you moan above him, completely speechless from your actions. It was almost comical and entirely too easy to tease him about, “Close your mouth you might catch flies.” His mouth clenched shut at that. It soon fell slack again at your next words while you brought yourself closer to the edge with your fingers, “What? Did she never do this for you?”

All Spencer could do was sit there and take it, shaking his head side to side, only a little so he could keep his eyes on you. You decided to be merciful, pulling your fingers out of you just before you orgasmed. You wanted to finish at the same time as him anyway.

Finally, you pulled his aching cock out of his slacks. It was throbbing in your hand as you spread your wetness with the fingers that had been inside you. Because you had edged yourself earlier, you couldn’t take teasing him any longer. You lined the head of his cock that was red and weeping up to your entrance, sinking down as fast as you could take him. While you sunk down you rubbed your clit in slow circles, not enough to make you orgasm, but enough to make it easier to take him.

Once you had fully taken him you wasted no time, immediately beginning to build up a fast pace. And, of course you couldn’t help but goad him again,

“Did she make you feel this good?” Your pace you had chosen was rough, bouncing and rolling your hips with reckless abandon while he had to take it without being able to move. He could have thrusted up into you even without the use of his hands, but he had one too many of your punishments in the past to be willing to break the rules so explicitly. Now if he ever broke the rules now it was him subtly bending them. Though, you could tell by the way his eyes rolled back into his head that he had no intention of doing that tonight. It felt too good to be used like this by you.

He still had not answered you though, not on purpose, but you still needed an answer. Tapping his cheek a few times, just hard enough to get his attention. It caused him to whine, but he still didn’t give you an answer. Since that didn’t work you decided to ask again, “I asked you a question. Did she make you feel this good? Did she use you like this?”

To add an extra edge to your words filled with a deadly tone you reached one of your hands forward to grasp around his neck. To make him look at you directly you forcefully tilted his neck, eyes once again trained on yours. He finally found it in himself to answer, “It felt good with her, but it feels best with you! I love you!”

“Good.” You simply stated and dropped your hold on his neck so you could return it to its place on his chest, using it as leverage to help you continue your fast pace. Your orgasm was fast approaching, his cock hitting you in the perfect spot, all you needed was a bit more stimulation. When you brought your hand down to run fast circles onto your clit, you soon fell apart above him. Spencer couldn’t help but look up at you in awe, speechless at how beautiful you look while you writhed on top of him.

Your own release pushed Spencer close to the edge and he started to beg, “I’m gonna cum! Please, can I?”

His hands had tightened into fists above him, knuckles going white over the effort of keeping them right where you had placed them originally. You were pleased with the way he had begged, glad that he had asked permission before even thinking about cumming. You still left him in suspense for a bit longer as you continued to work yourself on his painfully hard cock. Pressing a few kisses to his exposed skin under his collar was admittedly just to torture him a bit longer before you finally gave the command.

“Cum for me then.” Spencer followed your command eagerly, taking only two more of you bouncing on top of him to release inside you with a groan. While he rode out his release his lips captured around one of your pebbled peaks, sucking hard to get one last moan out of you.

Slumping forward after you had both finished and you had taken the belt off his wrists with the promise you’d lotion them up after you cuddled. You rested your head on his shoulder, wanting to stay as close as possible for a little while longer. He started tracing his fingers up and down your spine, relaxing you even further, almost to the point of falling asleep.

Before your eyes closed shut in post coital sleepiness your mind wandered a bit back to Elle. Elle had been an important figure in his life, his first real connection with someone special. Sure you teased about being jealous, but you thought it was important to tell him that you were ok with him thinking back on her. You knew he loved you. It most likely would take time till he was able to think or talk about her without a sharp pain in his chest, reminding him of how it all ended.

He hadn’t told you exactly what had happened, but it wasn’t hard to fill in all of the gaps. You turned your head, eyelashes fluttering when you nuzzled into his hair. Then you spoke quietly just enough so the sound could travel the short distance to his ear, “You should frame the picture, you look cute in it. And, I meant to say it earlier, I love you too.”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor @princesssmooshie

[juniorgman187]

Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)

Summary: Reader must lower her pride after a date goes wrong and the only one who can rescue her is her mortal enemy - Spencer Reid.

A/N: This was a beast of a fic to write. It’s been in my WIP since September, and I managed to go from 11 pages to 22 pages in three days. It is now my longest fic thus far. I am insanely fucking proud of it and I hope it does well. Category: Angst Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: allusions to ‘catfishing,’ allusions to abduction, dub-con to taking provocative photos, alcohol, mentions of bruises, jealousy, carrying hug which implies weight of Reader (lmk if I missed anything) Word Count: 11.7k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I tried to play nice; I really did, but there was no getting through to him. Everyday started and ended with us fighting fire with fire.

Maybe the reason the two of you butt heads so often is because of how similar you are.

That’s what the team would say when Spencer and I got into one of our daily (sometimes hourly) arguments. 

They constantly encouraged us to get to know each other so that we’d finally see the likeness, and until recently, I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I was willing to do whatever it took to get him to like me. However, as previously mentioned, my willingness quickly dissipated in light of recent events. 

Voluntarily spending more time than necessary with him would be a recipe for disaster no doubt. 

Somehow, in a matter of a month, Reid decided that he simply did not enjoy my presence, which was the nice way of putting it. 

To be more crass, he loathed me to no end.

Initially, I was operating under the assumption that he wasn’t fond of change, and with me joining the BAU, the change was too much too fast for him, but after four weeks, his attitude toward me never deviated. Yet again, I made another excuse for him, arguing to myself that people are allowed to not like me. I could respect that, but where he lost my respect was how he made a conscious effort to remind me of how much he despised me. Even when I was at my nicest, he still treated me like a scelerate. 

If there was a prize for gaining a mortal enemy in the shortest amount of time, I guess I already won that without even trying. He hated me with a burning passion, for reasons unbeknownst to me, despite the fact that all I’d ever try to do was be his friend. 

For far too long, I kept denying the part of me that knew making peace with him outside of work wouldn’t go well and it’d simply go down in history as another failed attempt of mine to form a bond with him, so it was at this point that I decided to face the facts. 

He didn’t make it easy for me, either. It was hard having to be kind to someone that was only ever out to get me. 

He would constantly correct me but only after I said something incorrectly, just so he could prove me wrong. 

“If each police officer patrols a street, we’ll be able to cover the entire comfort zone.”

“Actually, we’d need three more officers if we want to cover the entire comfort zone. There’s still 2.347 miles that are unaccounted for.”

I never understood why he couldn’t just say his piece before me so that I didn’t look like an idiot, but I suppose that was the point. 

And he had this infuriating, unwarranted habit of judging my taste in cinema and literature. Anytime I told Emily or Derek about a movie I saw or told Rossi about a book I read, he felt compelled to share his antagonistic opinions as if I asked for them in the first place. Sometimes even spoiling the endings for me!

“Rossi, I just started reading Doctor Sleep!” I was so eager to tell Rossi that, so much so that I’d become blind to one dark cloud’s own eagerness to ruin the fun. 

“The hotel burns to the ground, but the ghosts don’t die with it.” 

He said it with such monotony and nonchalance, not even bothering to look up from his own book to watch my reaction to his menacing act. He just didn’t care!

The list of reasons not to like him truly did go on and on, so it was almost insulting how people would compare the two of us. 

They’d bring up the congruence in intelligence, the same affinity for reading, and closeness in age, but it only made me madder. The last person I wanted to resemble was Reid, except today, I gained another glaring similarity to him.

“Look at you two. Did you plan your outfits or something?” Emily playfully pointed out after I walked into the conference room. 

I eyed the doctor sipping at his cup of coffee who swiveled around in his chair to see what everyone else was seeing. Just from a short glance, I spotted his navy blue button-up with white polka dots that was nearly identical to the color and print of my dress.

“Well, looks like one of us has to go home and change.” His lips grew into a mischievous smirk behind the rim of his mug. 

Was that a joke? Did Spencer Reid make jokes now?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” I facetiously remarked, taking the only open seat at the table which was next to the jokester himself. 

“I’m kidding. You look really nice today.” He alleged without a hint of irony. He was complimenting me now, too? It was so unfamiliar that it felt like uncharted territory, possibly even a trap.

“Why? Because I’m dressed like you?” I wasn’t going to fall for his words now, maybe the version of me who would do anything to gain his approval would have. She would’ve smiled and said ‘thank you,’ but this me was going to challenge him if that was the last thing I ever did. “Bit of a narcissist are we, Dr. Reid?” 

“Mmm maybe,” He wagered, tilting his head from side to side as if to contemplate the possibility. “Or maybe I just really think you look nice.�� 

Without even thinking, my heart skipped a beat. I was utterly repulsed by how I let his words have any effect over me. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually managed to fluster me with mediocre flattery. 

It felt like years that I had to sit next to Reid at the round table before Hotch dismissed the team for the flight.

30 minutes later, and we were on the jet. I’d taken one of the seats at the table opposite Derek and Emily, with Spencer beside me. 

Little things like this I could handle, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started bothering me. Morgan was listening to music and Emily was turned around in her seat, facing the back to talk to Rossi. Reid was playing himself in chess, and it took all of my self-control to not be a total asshole and knock the board and its pieces over and into the aisle. Luckily, I had a good enough distraction. 

Grant: can you ft tonight?

Me: we’ll see. i might have to work overtime. 

For the months that I had been talking to Grant, I was deliberately ambiguous about my job because I wasn’t exactly keen on telling him that I worked for the FBI and that I might not be able to FaceTime him since I was in the process of investigating a series of homicides. That’d surely scare him away and I was never one to flaunt my government job anyway.

Grant: you look stunning today

Me: you haven’t even seen me today 

Grant: don’t need to. 

Grant: you’ll always be stunning to me. 

“Who keeps texting you?” 

I looked up from my screen to see Reid fixated on his game but still engaged in my business. 

“No one,” I harshly replied, making a conscious decision to turn my phone on vibrate so he wouldn’t hear the chime of my text notifications.  

With one nimble side glance, Reid eyed my screen. I nudged him away with extra force.

“Nosy much?!” 

This stunned him. He wasn’t used to my coldness, he probably expected me to smile in a chagrined manner and not confront it - as I would have done - but now I was fighting back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it. 

I knew he could read fast, but how he managed to look at my phone so quickly it was like he never even moved his eyes - I didn’t know. Somehow, though, he managed to capture Grant’s entire username, and I didn’t doubt that he caught my entire conversation with him, too.

“Who’s Grant?” The name rolled off his tongue like he was insulted to even be saying it. 

“No one.” 

He didn’t respond soon after I said this, which I misinterpreted as a little victory for me since I almost believed he was going to drop the subject, but in true Spencer Know It All Reid fashion, he just kept going. 

“‘You look stunning today B-T-W. You haven’t even seen me today. Don’t need to. You’ll always be stunning to me.’ Doesn’t really sound like a ‘no one’ to me.” His recitation of my entire PRIVATE conversation with Grant embarrassed me. 

Did I forget to add his eidetic memory and speed-reading ability to the list of reasons not to like him?

“Shut up!” I nudged him, this time using much more force than the last. I was becoming more and more inclined to push over his ridiculous chess game so that he’d finally take me seriously. 

“Oh, really clever by the way. Vaguely insinuating that you ‘might not be able to call him because you’re working overtime’ just so you don’t have to disclose the true nature of your job.” Spencer’s sarcasm was thick.

“Are you just jealous because the only date you’ve been on was a fake one with a serial killer and not even your actual girlfriend while she was alive?” My reference to Cat and Maeve caught the attention of the entire jet. 

Each member mentally rolled their eyes thinking ‘Here we go again.’ And if that wasn’t their reaction, they were certainly cringing at the fight that was ensuing. 

Things had been suspiciously good between the two of us today so it was about time we argued. We were due for our daily quarrel.

“Oh, that’s right! The only girls who like you are victims in our cases.” Now this comment was referring to Lila and Austin. (I had Penelope to thank for filling me in on all of Reid’s ‘entanglements’ after I was first reassigned).

“Really? You wanna go there?” He sassed back, diverting his attention away fully from his chess game now. “Do you know how many people get ‘catfished’ when using online dating websites? Or the statistics on how many people are raped, assaulted, or murdered by said ‘catfish’?” 

“I’m not stupid, Reid. He and I have been talking for months. We’ve been on calls and Facetime before, too. We’ve just never met in person. Sound familiar?” 

“What Maeve and I had is not at all comparable to what you and this ‘guy’ have. And just because you’ve seen his face before doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer or operating under an alias.” 

I had to scoff. Who was he to label our relationship valid or not?

“What’s it to you anyway? We all know you’d be ecstatic if this guy turned out to be a serial killer or catfish. You’d get to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so.’” 

This touched a nerve. He hated it when I attacked his nice-guy facade. 

“Is it so hard to believe I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fine. If you think I don’t care about you, then don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the guy you think he is.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t! It’s not like you’d be able to protect me anyway, Pretty Boy.” I sneered, using Morgan’s nickname for him as an insult got to him, and I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. 

Hotch had to interject now. “Alright, (y/l/n), Reid, that’s enough. We need to focus on what’s actually important.” 

I settled back down in my seat, facing forward and avoiding eye contact with Reid. 

“Have fun on your date,” He muttered under his breath. “Hope you survive it.”

Bastard.

For the rest of the case, I was on edge. Deliberately avoiding him was a much harder task than one might think. I had to wait at least ten minutes for my coffee, so I wouldn’t be at the machine when he was there, and if I had to guess, he probably took longer just to make me wait in agitation. I had to awkwardly squeeze into a new spot beside Rossi and Hotch when we were delivering the profile. I had to ask not to travel in the same SUV as him. 

And this exhausting routine went on for days. In fact, I’d managed to almost go the entire case without interacting with him. That was until Hotch sent us both in the field to apprehend the unsub. 

“Are you sure?” I asked with clear reluctance. 

“Are you questioning me?” Hotch replied sternly. 

“No, sir.” 

I was already on thin ice being the new recruit, so I knew better than to question any of Hotch’s orders. And as miserable as working with Reid was, I figured he’d at least ease up on the hostility when we needed to be professional. Evidently though, even in the field, he wasn’t willing to work together with me. 

It was a quick decision, not careless in the least, however. The unsub had locked himself in his warehouse and refused to leave unless we were brave enough to drag him out of there ourselves. The ultimatum he gave specified that only one of us could do it and we both agreed that I should go in, seeing as he’d underestimate my strength as a woman, and I’d have the upperhand when I inevitably apprehended him. 

However, he also explicitly told us that I couldn’t come in with a gun - it had to be an even playing field. 

“You are not going in without a gun,”  Reid ordered. 

“We don’t have time to argue about this - I have a spare on me, okay? There are three hostages in there, two of which are children.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I handed him my gun and holster.

Had I let him waste a single second more of my time, we wouldn’t have been able to save the three hostages and successfully arrest the unsub. I saw this as a victory and I was almost willing to celebrate it with him, but it wasn’t long before he let our enmity tear us apart again. 

When we got back to the precinct, I went to the locker room to change, then suddenly, Hotch came in. 

“I’ve been informed that you went in unarmed against a fellow agent’s orders. This matter will be discussed in my office when we get back. I should warn you, (y/n), you do not want to make this mistake again.” Hotch left me with those foreboding words, and I knew, I knew immediately that Reid was to blame for this.

If I took a look in the mirror of my locker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw that my face was turning a bright shade of red. I was fuming - bursting at the seams from the anger building within me that was desperately fighting to escape. I could imagine myself as a cartoon character with steam blowing out either of my ears. I was about to go on a rampage, and no one - absolutely no one - could stop me. 

The last straw was hearing him come in. This was my opportunity to unleash what was already boiling. 

“What the hell, Reid? ‘(y/n) went in unarmed.’ Seriously?!” I undid the velcro on my vest so hastily out of my blind rage that the spiky side of the velcro strip nearly sliced my finger. “Are you trying to get me fired?” 

“If that’s what it takes to make you realize how stupid of a choice that was, then yes, I do.” He was so calm and collected in his inflection that it angered me all the more. 

“What are you even talking about? What ‘stupid choice’? You knew I had a second gun on me. And even if I didn’t carry it, I still would’ve had my vest on. I wasn’t going in unarmed or unprotected, so why would you tell Hotch that?” 

“In the time it would take you to assess the danger, react, and then reach for the gun at your ankle, the unsub would’ve been able to shoot you twice - if not more. That’s going in unprepared, which is going in unarmed.”

I scoffed in disbelief that he was actually reprimanding me. “Are you kidding? This is all based on a technicality? Did your eidetic memory somehow forget about what happened with Maeve? Because my memory didn’t. I know for a fact that you went into that warehouse without a vest or a weapon. And unlike you, I had a spare and my vest. AND I actually apprehended the unsub. Did you stop Diane?”  

This crossed a line and I knew it, but it was too late to take it back, and clearly, it was much too late to repair any relationship I had with him. We were far beyond the point of no return. 

He was so mad that he didn’t even answer me. The only response I could gauge was from his body language, which by the looks of it, all the signs of anger were plain on his face. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grind. Even his nostrils flared so primitively. His eyes narrowed down at me with a glare that said, ‘I’m the predator and you’re the prey.’

“Yeah, exactly.” I spat when he stayed silent. 

I turned around, starting towards the exit, but I was too furious to stop there, so I spun around and unleashed the remainder of my wrath that had been dying to come out. 

“Look, I get it. I’m the new kid around here, and it sucks when someone new comes in and changes up the team dynamic, but any mistake I make, or any mistake Hotch thinks I make, could send me packing. You’ve been working in this unit for years, and even if Hotch questions your choices, he won’t reassign you. He won’t even threaten it. He’s willing to overlook your mistakes because he knows that what you have to contribute to the team is too vital to let go, but I haven’t even had my chance to show him what I have to offer. So when I do make a mistake, there is nothing for me to fall back on, nothing to redeem me, and no safety net, but you? You have years of experience on your back to break your fall. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me a favor by reporting my ‘mistake’ to Hotch. You might be costing me my dream job, and if you think that makes us friends - think again.” 

I stormed out of the locker room seeing red. 

This war was far from over. 

_ _ _

“You’re clenching your fists again,” Emily said under her breath. I was grateful that she said it in a hushed tone, otherwise she might’ve revealed my lingering anger to the whole jet, which wouldn’t have been good. 

I immediately unclenched them, opening up my hands to reveal small, dark C shaped imprints on my palms from where my nails had dug into them. 

I should’ve expected that she would’ve learned at least one of my tells by now. I did have many after all. Cheek biting, fist-clenching, leg bouncing. 

“Something bothering you?” She probed quietly. 

She set her book down to give her undivided attention to this conversation. That was enough to tell me that an excuse like, ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ would not suffice. She wouldn’t be satisfied until I told her the truth, which I surely did not want to tell. So I settled for a half-truth.

“Hotch wants to talk when we get back.” 

From my peripherals, I saw her knit her brows together in confusion. “Is . . . is that it?”

“Mhm.” I lied. 

“But that’s not enough to warrant the fist clenching. Cheek biting - sure - you do it when you’re anxious, but not fist-clenching. You only do that when you’re angry about something.” 

“Oh, so you have figured out all my tells,” I smirked.

“Pfft, I figured them all out the first week you got here, but I won’t tell you the rest, otherwise you might try and hide them from me,” She joked. 

I shook my head playfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worked up about something - it’s nothing you need to worry about though.” Habitually, my eyes looked right up in his direction. I caught a glimpse of him sprawled against the couch, sleeping. He was lucky I wasn’t ranting about the little stunt he pulled earlier to Emily. He should be thankful that I was even trying to protect his reputation to her at all. 

“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it does help. Take it from me, someone who really only trusts myself, you shouldn’t hide what you feel.” 

What you feel. 

I clung onto those words. 

What was I really feeling? 

Was I upset that instead of receiving praise for the arrest I made, I was scolded like a child? Was I angry that Hotch believed what Reid had to say about my “problematic behavior” instead of believing in me? 

Or did I feel betrayed that despite my best efforts to build a bridge, Reid was tearing it apart brick by brick? Burning it to pieces with the fire of his rage?

“Thanks.” I bleakly said to Emily. I would’ve told her the truth, but it didn’t feel necessary at that moment. If anything, it just would’ve reflected badly on me. 

Truthfully, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the BAU, and if I wanted a permanent spot here, I needed to make more of them - and fast. 

“Hey, (y/n), we’re all going down to O’Keefs tonight to celebrate. You wanna join us?” Morgan asked, walking up the aisle and crouching down beside my seat to talk to me. 

“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to talk with Hotch when we get back,” I explained, smiling politely. 

“We can postpone the meeting till first thing Monday morning. I need to go home and be with Jack, anyway,” Hotch added. 

I didn’t realize he could hear me from where he was sitting, which made me all the more nervous that he might’ve overheard the entire conversation between me and Emily earlier. 

“Looks like I’m free,” I looked back at Morgan. “Does the offer still stand?”

“Anything for you, sweet cheeks.” He winked. 

Judging from the lightness of the atmosphere, everyone, except maybe Hotch and Rossi, would be celebrating at O’Keefs - including Spencer. 

I think I might’ve actually preferred to be scolded by Hotch tonight, instead of being silently glared at by Spencer, but it was already too late to revoke my confirmation of presence. 

Because, if Hotch could hear me from where he was sitting, then Spencer could, too. 

He already heard I was coming, and there was no way I was backing down.

_ _ _ 

In spite of the fact that I could barely hear myself think over the loud chatter and blasting music, I could still feel the rage radiating off of Spencer. You would think with how long his nap was on the jet, he wouldn’t be so cranky, but I guess he just couldn’t sleep off his disdain for me after our minor altercation. 

I wondered if the team could see it, too. The way he was burning a hole into me with his fiery stare. The tension was palpable, as it has always been, but remember - I’m not the one who wanted it that way. 

He started this. I was only making the feeling mutual. 

“So what about you, (y/n)? Are you seeing anyone?” 

I tried to hide my growing smirk behind the rim of my beer, but I knew I couldn’t hide much from them. Of course, right across from me, Spencer was glaring at me expectantly, waiting for the answer he already knew. 

“Oooh, look at her - she’s blushing! Spill.” Penelope ordered, beating her palm on the table so enthusiastically it shook all the drinks on it.  

“Well, there’s this one guy I’ve been seeing for a while,” The second I started speaking, I noticed Spencer rolling his eyes. I figured his apprehension was the only response of its kind that I would receive, but I was very mistaken. 

“How did you two meet?” Penelope giddily asked, nearly jumping up and down in her seat. 

“A dating app, actually.” 

The table went completely silent, and I immediately felt my stomach drop. It was as if I’d just said something very wrong. With just a quick glance in front of me, Spencer was basking in this. 

What a dick.

Emily hesitated to ask. “...Have you two met in person before?” 

Now it was my turn to hesitate to speak. “No, not yet.” 

I took another sip of my drink even though I wasn’t thirsty. I just wanted to hide any part of my face I could to shield myself from the five sets of eyes burning holes into me now, rather than just the one. Trying to make matters better, I spoke all too quickly, nearly sputtering on my beer. “I’m completely safe, though. Nothing sketchy’s going on, I promise.” 

“Of course,” JJ agreed. “We totally trust you,” neglecting to attach the cliche, ‘It’s him we don’t trust.’ But if she had, it would’ve spoken everyone’s bubble thoughts right about now. 

“Just be careful, mama.” Derek’s response felt the most sincere, and I honestly believed he was happy for me, but it didn’t change how much their judgement initially stung. 

For the rest of the night, I didn’t talk. No one noticed. 

Except maybe the last person I wanted to notice. 

I quietly slipped away somewhere in the night when the conversation was at its highest precisely so they wouldn’t question where I was going or if I was okay. If they had asked, the truthful answer to the former would’ve been ‘just outside to get some air’ and the latter ‘no.’

The cool breeze drifted through the door like rising fog and for the briefest moment in time, I felt suspended in the space around me - I’d finally caught my breath. That feeling wouldn’t last long, though. 

I’d intentionally gone outside to compose myself until I came back a person who wasn’t on the verge of tears, but apparently, trying to pull myself only resulted in my falling apart. A ball of yarn unraveling is the closest comparison I can draw to what I must’ve looked like, crying quietly on the street.

“I figured I’d find you here.” 

It was the mere sound of someone’s voice that shocked me, but it was the person whose voice it was that led to the frustration that followed. 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside talking to the team of people who also agree with you about Grant?” 

He was too much of a nuisance to warrant exchanging eye contact with so I simply stared forward as I spoke and wiped the tears away that were still pooling on my lower lash line. I hoped he hadn’t actually seen me crying, but from what I could tell, he was probably standing there long before he said something. And if he was truly looking at me as deeply as it felt like right now, then he’d have noticed my bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and unending sniffling. 

“Is that why you disappeared back there? Because you’re upset they didn’t exactly like the idea of your relationship?” The pain in the ass really tried, he really tried to get me to look at him by facing me and making these gestures with his hands that should’ve gotten my attention, but instead, I stayed put leaning against the wall, keeping my line of sight straight ahead. 

“(Y/n), they weren’t insulting you or judging you -”

“Then why did it feel like it?” For the first time since he’d joined me, I’d looked at him. I didn’t even mean to and I had every intention of denying him that privilege for the entire duration of our conversation, but as soon as I asked him my question, we locked eyes, and I saw it written all over his face. 

He felt sorry for me. 

Now, he could clearly make out how distraught I was from this unobstructed view of my face that was kindled by the dim, flickering yellow glow of the streetlight beside us. And he kept staring, looking into my eyes to read me just as easily and just as quickly as he read a book. 

“All we want is for you to be safe,” His voice crackled momentarily, and it actually touched some part of me for how genuine it sounded. “We weren’t trying to judge you or to insult you, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but if we want your safety, and you tell us about something that could be potentially harmful, then of course we’re going to be apprehensive about it. That’s how people that care about you should react.”

“So are you saying that I don’t care about myself because I’m engaging in something risky?” Isn’t that the most ironic statement of this year? The definition of our job was risky, and even if this wasn’t the safest relationship on the planet, it was nothing like what we put ourselves through everyday being in the field. 

“No, that’s not what I’m saying -”

“So what are you saying?” I dared. He shook his head and sighed like he was about to give up, but I needed an answer. “No, please, do continue. Finish what you were gonna say. Since you apparently know everything, 187. Please go ahead - tell me what you think I should do.” 

Tell me what you really came out here to say, I ordered him with my eyes.

“I think I respect you more than you respect yourself, and that’s really saying something. Because if you actually liked yourself as much as I do, then you would realize that subjecting yourself to this nonsensicality of a long-distance relationship is not only dangerous - but insulting to your worth, too. You deserve more than that, (y/n).” He couldn’t have been clearer when he murmured a low and firm, “Much more.” 

The world was spinning on its axis too fast for me to process anything he said before snapping back at him. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”

With utmost clarity in both annunciation and intention, he told me, “Break up with him.” 

Not a shadow of a doubt in his words. 

Then, like the phantom of the opera himself, he vanished back into the bar, but even if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him. I was simply rendered speechless.

Circling back to my previous argument, I questioned once more why was it any of his business anyway? I was allowed to do as I pleased and I most certainly did not have to listen to him. And I didn’t. 

But I should’ve. 

_ _ _ 

My Monday morning meeting with Hotch wasn’t nearly as fire and brimstone as I thought it would be. It did however feel like the equivalent to an “I’m disappointed in you” parent speech. In some ways, I related to the average teen who was grounded. Except instead of my phone being taken away, it was my freedom. From now on, I could only follow executive orders that had been given to me. At least for the time being. 

It was clear that, deep down, some part of Hotch knew what I’d done was the right call, but he couldn’t give me any favors. Not until they were deserved on my end. 

Walking onto the jet after our meeting, however, felt more juvenile than the punishment itself. I was a kid again, re-entering my classroom after using the restroom, only to have all eyes on me as I came through the door.

As per usual, the only empty chair was next to Reid. There’d been too many instances of this happening to think it was just a coincidence. At this point, I had to assume it was by design. Whose design however? That I didn’t know.

“Hello, trouble,” He sang when I took my seat. 

I could only assume that this new nickname was based on what took place in Hotch’s office - thanks to him, need I remind you - but I didn’t care to know the origin because that would require talking to him, and for several reasons, that was the last thing I wanted to do. The first of which was what happened less than three days ago. An event we both hadn’t mentioned yet, and I hoped we never would. 

I took every preventative measure in the book. I changed seats with JJ. I moved to the couch. I even started reading in the little hallway between the kitchenette and bathroom of the jet to avoid sitting beside him, but against all my best efforts, he always found a way to bug me. When there’s a will, there’s a way. After exhausting any real reason he had to talk to me, he had to get creative. 

“You’ve been on that same page for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” I heard him say when he walked up to the kitchen to reach for the pot of coffee. Almost expecting I’d ask him what he meant, he added the explanation casually. “It never takes you more than three minutes and twelve seconds to move onto the next page. So either you’re not understanding the material or you’re not actually reading.”

It was utterly hilarious of him to imply that either of those things were definitely the answer. “What if I’m just taking my time reading this page, genius? Ever thought of that?” 

His eyes turned into slits as he leaned in closer to examine me. “You’re blinking rate just increased, too.”

“Stop!” I screeched childishly, pushing him away by his shoulders in an attempt to get him off my back, but he was far from off my back. No, he was right against it. More specifically, his hand was on the small of it. 

Leaning in so close that his lips were practically pressing on the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Come find me when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”

He didn’t need to know his words or actions had any sort of effect on me, so I kept the most stoic facial expression on, and I didn’t say a single thing back. He turned back around to leave with the hand on my back being the last thing to go. His lingering touch caused a shiver to run down my spine while paradoxically burning my body from the friction. 

I was disgusted with myself for having let him elicit any sort of reaction from me, even if he wasn’t aware of it. 

“Yeah ... well, d-don’t expect that to be anytime soon,” was my poor attempt at a retort to shut him up.

“Whatever you say, trouble.” 

_  _ _ 

Personal space can be a wonderful thing. Much less so when it’s invaded, however. 

After what felt like the longest flight ever, all I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. My wishes were granted when I was able to wash off the stress and exhaustion and slip into a blush pink satin pajama set Grant sent me that I’d been meaning to wear. The plunging neck of the tank top was lined with lace and adorned with the tiniest little bow at the center. To match the shirt, the hem of the shorts were lined with lace that trailed up the small triangular slits on the side of the shorts, where at the vertex of them was the same little bow detail. For such a pure and innocent color as baby pink, you’d think it’d be somewhat less revealing. The longer I started at myself in the mirror while wearing it, the more aware I’d become of the intentions behind why Grant had sent it. 

How cute, I thought, rolling my eyes.

Gifts should always be appreciated, if for no other reason than the effort put into it, but this just felt slimy. There was obviously no valiant romantic intent behind the negligee, which spoiled the delight of receiving something out of the blue from him. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even sure how to thank him for something like this. 

Me: thank you for the pajamas. they’re so cute!

Lying was easier over text message, in case you were wondering what the perks of a long distance relationship were. 

Grant: good, I’m glad you like them. are you wearing them right now? 

But sometimes, when you should lie, you don’t. And you regret it later on - take it from me. 

Me: yeah, they’re super comfy

Grant: great! i wanna see them on! take a pic 

As if to compensate for the indisputable hatred I had for this lingerie and what it stood for in our relationship, I did the only thing I could think that would make him think I really liked them. That I felt good in them. 

I took pictures - not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, Yelp review pictures, though - provocative ones. 

In the same breath I went to take them, though, Spencer’s words rang through my head. 

You deserve more than that. Much more. 

Shaking off the thought of Spencer, I decided against what the little voice in my head that sounded too similar to his would’ve said. 

To add to the illusion, I situated myself within the hotel sheets and used the front camera to capture my chest that was very much on display in this top. In the middle of rolling around the bed, trying to find the angles that wouldn’t show my face of dejection, the door opened. 

Instantaneously, I clawed at the sheets until they wrapped around me like a towel. I was ashamed to admit they provided more coverage than these ‘pajamas’ did.

My shriek of shock must’ve sounded familiar to the stranger intruding on me because no sooner did I scream than they questioned, “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

“Spencer, what the hell are you doing in here?” I grumbled, struggling to maintain a tight enough grip on the sheets that would keep them from falling and unveiling a sight I desperately did not want him to see. 

“I asked you first.” 

Boy, if you only knew how badly I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face. “This is my hotel room obviously. Your turn.” 

Returning just the same tone, inflection, and vocals, he imitated me. “This is my hotel room obviously.” Like one of those magic tricks he’d show Henry or Jack, he miraculously flashed a room key between his index and middle finger that wasn’t there before. 

“No, that’s impossible.”

“I opened the door, didn’t I?” That damn smirk was still there when he asked this. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn’t been so condescending, I would’ve thought his sarcasm was ... attractive. Disgusting, I know. 

“Well, if you actually plan on staying here, then you’re sleeping on the floor or the couch, got it?”

My question went unanswered until I turned around to follow where he’d traveled in the time that I spent pondering how this happened. Now perched at the window, sitting on the arm of the chair in a way that chairs weren’t meant to be sat on, he continued to stare silently at me. 

“What? What is it?” I urged. 

“What’s going on with the …” He made a side to side sweeping motion with his key card. “Bed sheets?” 

Consciously, I shimmied the fabric further up my body. Seeing as there was virtually no way to escape an honest answer, I confessed. “If you must know ... I’m wearing p-pajamas.” My own body was rejecting the shameful admission causing the word to stumble out of my mouth. 

He didn’t need to know any more than that to gather what kind of garments they were. He already figured it out.

“Did Grant give them to you?”

I almost rolled my eyes at the implication. “What makes you say that?” 

“Because I know you,” He punctuated every word perfectly. “And I know that you wear big shirts and sweatpants to bed because you don’t see the point of spending money on clothes that are only made for you to sleep in - especially if they’re clothes that make you uncomfortable like these ones clearly do.” 

Although, I greatly despised the fact that there was even a little bit of a chance that I might’ve agreed with him, I still defended Grant. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”

“Thoughtful, right,” He scoffed. “And which head was he thinking with?” 

I was baffled he had the gall to say such an innuendo. “Spencer!”

How dare he? So what if Grant bought me something provocative because he was physically attracted to me? At least someone was. 

Despite the ferocity plain on his face, he chose not to pursue this conversation. Visibly biting back on words he knew would hurt me, Spencer managed to sound remarkably genuine when he promised me, “I won’t look if you don’t want me to.” 

I want you to, was my very first thought. Oh, God, that’s so fucked up, was my second. 

He underlined his sincerity by turning fully around until he was facing the window. “But we should probably put the sheets back on the bed if you plan on sleeping on it.”

He was so patient as he waited for me to remove the cloth from my body. It almost made me feel guilty. He didn’t grumble or gripe, nor did he pressure me to do it at all. So by rights, there should’ve been no reason for me to take so long to let the barrier fall - he wasn’t looking at me. But I was just so goddamn embarrassed. 

This wasn’t me, and even he knew that. 

“You can turn around now,” I mumbled quietly once my safety net of a bedsheet had abandoned me. My arms were crossed over my chest and my thighs were pressed so tightly against each other as if to limit the surface area that Spencer could scrutinize. 

That never came. 

He did look, I could tell that much. But it wasn’t a look I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t rage or annoyance or pity. It was a look of lust. 

A look that made me positively weak in the knees. A look far more sensual than even my racy garments. 

“I’ll just sleep in Morgan’s room tonight, okay?” He offered once he finally broke out of his incapacitation. Grabbing the two opposite corners of the sheets that I was holding, it was a team effort as we arranged the covers where they belonged. It was probably the longest period of time we’d ever worked together without fighting or talking at all for that matter..

Not a single word was exchanged between us while Spencer gathered his things to leave for Derek’s. The room started to feel dangerously empty in the stillness. 

When he slipped past me to make his way out, I caught his upper arm, successfully pulling him back around.

I could’ve been sweet, I should’ve. But that wasn’t our thing. So I settled for what came naturally to us and what would set off the least amount of red flags - I didn’t play nice. “As long as you promise not to hog the entire bed with your behemoth body, we can sleep together -” Catching the words as soon as they came out and what they could’ve implied, I began backtracking. “Sleep in the same bed. Sleep as in rest. Not sleep as in … anything else.” 

Then, in one of those rare moments- he laughed. He actually laughed. Like a real, hearty, sudden laugh. “I know what you meant, (y/n).” 

I’ll never forget the smile that followed the world’s greatest laugh either. 

Oh, God, I’m so fucked up. 

_ _ _

Spencer’s POV

Domesticated animals are smarter than we give them credit for. Studies have shown that pets can actually sense time; They know when it’s time for their owner to leave for the day and when they’ll be coming home, too. 

Animals aren’t dumb - and neither was I. 

Like a dog sniffing out their owner’s imminent absence in the home, I could tell (y/n) was leaving the hotel room for the night. If her current state wasn’t convincing enough, then her behavior throughout the entire day supported that theory just as well. 

Whether it was her phone, the clock on the wall, or her watch, she was evidently keeping a close eye on the time. She did it so often, though, that you would think she would just use simple deductions to figure out what time it was by estimating the time it was when she last checked, but nope. She rarely let more than a minute go by without monitoring the clock.

My suspicions didn’t end there. What’s more suggestive was the anxious fidgeting. She had her tells of anxiety - everyone does - but this was a level of stress I’d never seen her exhibit before, not even in the field. 

She kept cracking her knuckles, even when she’d exhausting all the popping noises she could from them. Her leg-bobbing was another big tell, too. I tend to sit on tables rather than in the chairs at said table, allowing me to feel the earthquake occurring on the precinct floor. Her leg was bouncing up and down so vigorously it was practically shaking the room. 

I would’ve asked her what she was so impatient about, but I feared I already knew the answer.

Grant.

And if I never heard that name roll off her tongue again, it would be too soon. 

That didn’t mean I couldn’t ask where she was going, though.

Pretending to read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I barely let my eyes venture far off the page when I loudly asked from the window seat, “So where are you going tonight, trouble?” 

The faintest sound of a chuckle erupted in the bathroom, most likely from the nickname I hadn’t let die yet. 

“Nunya,” was her ever-so mature answer. 

I didn’t want to give her the chance to say ‘nunya business’ like I knew she would, so I quickly interjected with a monotone, “How clever of you.” If she wanted to be a child about this, then so be it. 

“Let’s see. You brought your good heels out of your suitcase, which you only wear on special occasions. And you put on a different perfume than the one you usually use, so I’m assuming it’s new. ... If I didn’t know any better, trouble, I’d say you’re going on a date.” 

She peeked her head out of the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re creepy, you know that?” 

Seeing the small portion of her face that was embellished with a smile would’ve been enough if only I knew what dress she was hiding in behind that wall. I had yet to see that part of her ensemble, but if I had to guess, it would break my heart. 

“Just saying,” I casually lied while clearing my throat. 

“Well,” I heard her begin from within the bathroom. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Grant is meeting me tonight.” 

Kill me now.

“I thought Grant lived in D.C.” Not that that would change much if he was already here. 

“Yes, he does, but he’s driving all the way here to meet me. Seeee,” She drew out the word. “Would a serial killer do that?” 

I refrained from giving the obvious answer: Yes. 

“Well, I hope you don’t plan on bringing him back here. Otherwise, that’d be terribly awkward, don’t you think?” My allusion to the possibility that Grant would come back here to find me in her bed was borne from the intentions that were a complete contradiction to the words I’d just spoken. It, in fact, wouldn’t be terribly awkward. No, it would be fun. For me at least. 

I would have loved to have seen the look on his face, and the worry on hers as she tried to explain who I was and why I had any right to be in (y/n)’s gravity. 

The room went silent again while I stayed on the same page of my book and, unbeknownst to her, waited for her to enter the room. How long she was taking was starting to worry me, though. 

“Need any help in there?” I called out.

“Nope,” She said through a strained voice that proved she was indeed struggling with something. 

“Really?” I asked once more to give her another opportunity to lower her colossal pride. “Cause it sounds like you need help.” 

“Nope. I’m good.” Liar. 

I knew her too well. I counted down to the exact second when she finally scrambled to ask, “Can you help me zip up my dress?”

“Yyyup.” I’d already resigned to the fact that I would have to help her, bouncing happily off the bed when she finally admitted it and letting myself lose the page I was on as I tossed the book haphazardly behind me. 

I was forced to join her in the bathroom for it was already hard for her to humble herself enough to ask me for help, so she certainly couldn’t be expected to lower her pride again and walk out to a place more convenient for me. 

The first thing I noticed was that it was a space clearly not made for two. It was so cramped that I ended up right against her in order to fit. The second thing I noticed was how she made no movements to distance herself. She was so close to me that I could actually see the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up from where my breath ghosted on the area. The sterile smell of hotel bathrooms had been replaced by the flowery, aromatic scent of her new perfume, and my heart broke all over again. 

Using the back of my fingers, I cast a barely-there caress on her neck to stroke her hair out of the way to clear the path of the zipper. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up again. 

She liked that.

“So do I get to know where you’re going?” I reached for the zipper on the small of her back. “For safety purposes, of course.” 

“Aww, you looking out for me, Dr. Reid?” She teased in a seductive tone while gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail that for the shortest second recorded in time might’ve reminded me of a constantly recurring intrusive image. 

“Always, trouble.” 

The zipper fastened with absolutely no resistance all the way to the top. My eyes flashed to the mirror to catch her expression, which told me everything I needed to know. 

What a pretty little liar. She didn’t actually need my help. 

Comprehending that the realization dawned on me, she gave me what she knew would shut me up. “We’re going to The Rooftop at Lamont’s.” 

How effortlessly she slipped past me without a thank you or a glance in my direction served as a rude awakening.

“Well, you should take an umbrella with you. It looks like there’s gonna be a storm tonight.” This was my small way of coming to terms with the reality of the situation. 

“Eh,” She waved my suggestion off with a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t even think about stalking me!” She warned before exiting the room.

In the blink of an eye, she was gone - my peace of mind having left with her. 

_ _ _ 

The amount of sleep you need varies for each person and is affected by several factors. However, for most adults, 7–9 hours per night is the ideal amount. And I was slowly reducing that optimal quantity, hour by hour, until there was none left. 

I would continue to sacrifice my sleep so long as I was awake for her return. If she’d asked why I was still up, I would lie. Though I wouldn’t look half so pretty as she did when she lied. 

Losing rest seemed like such a small price to pay to make sure I was fully alert in the event that an emergency happened, even if I would suffer the consequences in the morning. But hey - that’s what caffeine is for, isn’t it? To re-energize oneself after staying up to guarantee one’s enemy’s safety. 

Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why Kaldi invented coffee in 750 A.D. 

Besides the thunderstorm, my mind also made great company for situations like these. Granted, the visions it would project kept me up for a reason - they were all so awful. 

There was simply no projected reality where things would turn out alright. 

If she had the time of her life on her date, she would come back to throw it in my face that I’d been wrong, and her admiration for Grant would have deepened. 

Or if he stood her up, she’d be devastated, but instead of letting me console her, she’d push me away as easily as she always did.

In a more neutral instance, perhaps she would admit it wasn’t as great meeting him as she thought it would be and the relationship would fade out for innocent reasons. Even if that seemed like the most favorable circumstance, she would eventually grow to resent me for planting the seed of doubt in her head in the first place.

But nothing- nothing I could have imagined would be as treacherous as what actually happened.

At exactly 1:09 a.m, my phone started to ring. I can’t explain to you what it was, but I just knew - it was her calling, and it wasn’t even her number.

“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?” 

If she said something beforehand, I couldn’t hear her because the storm was too loud and her voice was too quiet. “Did I wake you up?” 

I reassured her with a tone I didn’t even recognize. “No, no. I was awake. Why? What’s up?” The line went quiet again, forcing me to prompt her to speak in order to find out if she was still there on the call. “(Y/n)?”

“Spencer ...” She choked out a hoarse sob. “I need you. I need you to come get me, please.” 

My eyes clenched shut at the dreadful sound of her sorrow, and I jolted into action. After scrambling to gather the keys to her car that she’d left behind, I fled the room faster than ever before. 

“I’m on my way, (y/n). Stay right there. You’re at The Rooftop at Lamont’s right?” 

The poor thing took the longest pause in history, either from shame or disorientation. “He threw me in the back of his car and drove me all the way to D.C. I …” Her breath caught on her dry throat again. “I, um, I managed to escape and now I’ve barricaded myself in a payphone booth. I haven’t called the police yet. You were the first person I thought to call. I just, I just needed to hear your voice.”

My knuckles turned an unfamiliar shade of white when I gripped the steering wheel, picturing her caged up in a rectangular box, dialing my number instead of 911 just so she could hear my voice.

“Everything is gonna be okay. I promise you. My ETA is 1:28. That’s in 19 minutes. Are you okay being there for that long or do you want to find somewhere safer?”

I could no longer distinguish the difference between talking to her right now and talking to a victim in distress. I was speaking with the same tone and inflection but feeling a sharp pain in my chest that wasn’t there before. 

“I can stay here. Just ... don’t hang up, okay?” The fact that the possibility of me abandoning her over the phone even crossed her mind was more than enough to get me to drive well over the speed limit. 

The list of traffic infractions only grew from there because honestly? Screw my safety or anyone else’s. Her’s was the only one that mattered. She was the priority. 

She was my priority. 

Throughout the entire call, I kept repeating, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Frankly, it was something we both needed to hear. 

It was both the fastest and slowest 19 minutes of my life. Time no longer felt real when I finally found the payphone booth that boxed in my troublesome girl. No sooner did I drive up to the sidewalk than I ran out of the car to sprint the short distance to free her from her coop.

“(Y/n)!” I shouted, swinging the door open and throwing caution to the wind in the process. Immediately, she dropped the phone, not even bothering to replace it onto its receiver. 

The pouring rain had stripped her of her dignity. Mascara ran down her face in pigmented streams of black. Her curled hair was dampened into strings. But worse of all, it hadn’t washed away the darkening bruises on her skin.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She cried as she ran into my open arms. 

Her body collided with mine in such a gentle manner that I had to wonder how that was possible at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Was our collision actually that gentle or did it seem that way because of how good it felt to have her arms and legs latch around my entire torso, crossing and connecting somewhere in between?

With one arm under her thighs to hold her up, I pulled her impossibly closer to me by cradling the back of her head with the other hand. 

Her small hands found their way into my hair, a new sensation I tried not to indulge in so as not to let my attention stray away from the little life I was holding in my arms. 

She was so cold. 

Shivering from my warm embrace, her teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. You were right I should’ve listened -”

“Shh, it’s okay, (y/n),” I said with the hopes that I could make the pounding heart that was thumping against my shoulder settle down until it reached her standard heart rate of 67 beats per minute. 

After a second of just holding her wordlessly, she spoke again. 

“I don’t wanna fight.” She surrendered so easily to me that I could hardly believe this was her at all. 

“I don’t wanna fight with you either.” 

That was entirely true. Fighting with her was the last thing on my mind. The first was getting her into my car. 

It was easier that I imagined it would be, but then again, it’s easy to do things when you’re motivated in this way. 

Before I loosened my hold on her to shut the passenger door, she squeezed me a little tighter, as if to be absolutely certain this was real and not some cruel dream.

“Thank you,” She hummed into the crook of my neck. From where her shoulder was digging into my throat, I couldn’t exactly respond verbally, so I settled for rubbing my hand up and down her back comfortingly. 

“Let’s take you home,” I basically said to myself seeing as it was too quiet to be discernible. 

“No,” She shook her head rapidly. “Take me to your apartment.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go back to the hotel right now. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.”

My apartment is closer than the hotel, I reasoned, pretending it was the logic of it that made my heart swell and not the statement I would fixate on for the entire duration of the ride there. 

I need to be somewhere I feel safe. 

And that’s wherever I’m with you.

_ _ _ 

Reader’s POV

Porcelain wall tiles gleamed back at me, mocking my wretched misery. They were much prettier than me, but then again, anything else would be prettier than me right about now.

I certainly wasn’t the belle of the ball in my bare naked state. The fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own washed off dried blood didn’t help either.

I would’ve looked away from the bright white walls, but where else were I to look? Into the pair of eyes that I was deliberately avoiding? The ones that were staring a hole through me right now? No. I couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. So I kept looking forward at the mean walls - those mean, mocking walls.

“Is the water warm enough?” He asked, dipping a finger into the bathwater to test it himself. 

I watched as his hand snuck into the tub and swirled around some water, causing soap bubbles to revitalize. 

For a reason I didn’t know nor could remember at this given moment, Spencer drove me to his apartment. That memory of why I was here was fuzzy, but the rest following my arrival was more vivid. Perhaps because it was all unfolding right now.

“I think I should go,” I murmured. The bathwater had gone cold, and the silence was too deafening. If I didn’t leave now, then I would be trapped forever. 

I leaned forward with my knees still pressed to my chest to protect my modesty while I tugged on the silver drain plug of the tub to release the suction.

“You can’t go home. You’ll be alone again, and who will be there to help you that time?” 

“I don’t need anybody’s help.” I responded curtly. 

“Then why did you call me tonight?”

“Why did you answer?” 

He was stunned by how I didn’t miss a beat with my question, stunned enough to purse his lips in contempt. “Should I have declined your call then? Said ‘no’ instead and let you fend for yourself? You know what - my bad, (y/n). I sincerely apologize that I care about you.” 

I scoffed at his factiousness. “No, what you should’ve done is whatever the hell you wanted to do. But clearly, since you said ‘yes’ and came to my rescue like I’m some victim in a case - you wanted to be there. I could chalk that up to you having a hero complex, but I think it’s time for you to admit you just wanted to see me at my worst so you could throw it in my face like you’re doing right now.”

He clenched his jaw in fury, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve left you in that booth.” 

This crossed a line, but I was just as ready to cross it, too. 

“But I bet you liked saving me. Seeing me as a damsel in distress that you could white knight. You like that, Spence? Does my weakness settle your deep rooted fear of inadequacy in strength?”

Shouldn’t have done that. 

For a second there, I was sincerely scared of the response I might’ve just elicited, so I shot up from the tub and grabbed the towel on the rack, quickly wrapping myself in it and avoiding Spencer’s gaze the entire way out of the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Judging from the loudness of his voice, he was right on my heels, following me close behind. 

“You’re smart. Figure it out.” 

“God, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I don’t want to leave you like this.” It never failed to amaze me how he could both show disdain and concern for me in the matter of a sentence. 

“Well, you’re not leaving me like this - I’m leaving you like this.” My clever remark angered him more.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, Spencer called out from the end of his hallway, “What are you so scared of?” 

Reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I spun around to throw my arms out to my side in just the same defensive manner as he did. “Nothing! Maybe I just don’t wanna be stuck in the apartment of the man who hates me! Can you blame me?” 

He ran a hasty hand through his hair, pulling at the strands out of pure irritation. “Why do you keep saying I hate you? How can any of what I’ve done for you tonight suggest that?”

He’d chosen his words carefully and for that, he was smart. His inclusivity of the word ‘tonight’ meant I could only reference his actions from the past few hours, which wouldn’t help my case, as opposed to the months and months that he’d given me the cold shoulder, which would have helped my case. But again, he was smart - he had me in a deadlock. I couldn’t accept defeat, but what could I possibly argue against his point? 

My body literally shook from the power of the deep groan that tore through my chest. “God, what do you want from me, Spencer?” I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him, but my body was resisting all those urges. Lunging forward, I pointed the sternest index finger at him, staring the most unforgiving glare into his soul. “Tell me - tell me what you want! Because when I was nice to you, you-you treated me like shit. And then when I stopped being nice to you, you still treated me like shit. So what -” I had to laugh to alleviate the sheer rage I was feeling. “What the fuck do you want from me? Because it’s like no matter what I do, it’s just not good enough for you!”

His eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes softened. He didn’t look angry whatsoever. No, he looked hurt. 

“Not good enough for me?” He leaned down to my level to look right into my eyes. “You are everything … everything to me.”

With one last breath, I cried out in anguish, “Then why? Why do you hate me so much?” 

He gulped back the lump in his throat - the last barrier that kept him from telling the truth. 

“I ... I never hated you. I just need to be in control of my thoughts and feelings at all times, otherwise, I feel-I feel like I’m going crazy. Like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break that I’m genetically predisposed to have. But when you came around - I lost all my control. You were inhabiting my dreams, you were stealing my sleep, occupying more and more space in my brain until there was no more room left to take. God, I think about you all the time, and I literally cannot physically stop it. I have no control anymore,” and somehow him saying that sounded something like an ‘I love you.’ 

“The only thing I could control was how I treated you. I thought being awful to you would get you to despise me enough to make me despise you, too, and while it was easier to be angry at you, it was so much worse having you hate me.”

“I never hated you, Spencer.” Never. 

“You should have,” He rasped. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I wish to spend every day proving that I want you. Oh, I want you so bad,” He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, and I unconsciously laughed in return. His pain wasn’t funny in the least. What was amusing was knowing that he had the same excruciating longing for me that I had for him. 

“I don’t want control anymore if it means I can’t have you.”

He leaned in so carefully that I almost didn't register the movement at all. Our hearts were pounding to the same synchronized beat. We were the shore and the tide one in the same. Our breaths would draw in and out, in and out, as he held my face so gently. We were still the shore and the tide, but more than anything we were drowning in the ocean of ourselves. The rising waters of his admiration threatened to flood every empty nook and cranny of the room until it swallowed me whole. All I could feel was him, everywhere, filling absolutely everything. 

“Wow ... I finally got you speechless,” The cocky bastard hummed happily, letting his words vibrate on the smallest part of my lip.

“Oh, shut up,” I declared through a smirk I needed to fight off before finally closing that nearly imperceptible gap between us. 

All the forces in the world couldn’t tear us apart after we connected. They were no match for the force Spencer’s hands had as they pulled me impossibly closer. The pressure might’ve even been unbearable had it not been for the velvety pair of lips giving me back all the oxygen it stole from my lungs just seconds ago. They were so soft, like freshly washed sheets, like biting into cotton candy, like floating for the first time, feeling utterly weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s so effortlessly sweet. 

Not nearly as sweet as the words that followed our parting. 

“Not enough for me?” He repeated, recalling my previous claim. “You’ve had me since the day you walked in, trouble.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

fingers crossed this fic doesn’t flop!

complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid 

tag not working: @gloriousmuffinempathstudent 

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (1)

》 News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right? 《

pairings: john kramer!taehyung x female reader

warnings: dark themes, angst, yandere, murder, torture, self harm, suicide, stalking etc.... (will add more when i know lol) although it is rather innocent in the first couple chapters(?) so idk it could be slow burn but i guess we’ll find out as i write it >< ,, it’s my version of saw if saw was a fucked up love story lol. Please don’t read if any of the topics mentioned trigger you!! 18+

this fic is exactly that, fiction!!!! the au does not represent the characters mentioned irl......

synopsis: you end up lost on the other side of town, where you cross paths with a handsome stranger, kim taehyung, only.... are you a stranger to him?

[a/n: daffodils represent; love me, sympathy, desire and affection returned...]

word count: 3k

series masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

Hiding behind a mask was something you were accustomed to. Your friend group and family were clueless to the torment you endured from simply existing. You were confident your masking had convinced the world you were happy with yourself. Unbeknown to you, one other person saw straight through your façade.

You wanted to end your life.

He needed you to cherish your life.

Nothing looked familiar. The café you frequented was nowhere to be found. Your usual hangout was most definitely not on the side of town you found yourself in. You felt anxiety slowly curl its way around your body, you were frigid. You tried and tried but couldn’t find it in yourself to run.

You lived in the more friendly part of town (so to speak) – where houses were colourful, gardens pristine, warm-hearted neighbours who would treat you like family and white picket fences are what surrounded you. That was your norm, sure, you weren’t exactly loaded but you weren’t exactly poor either. It was a healthy balance in the middle. That’s not to say you hadn’t lived or seen this side of town before.

Your Mother and Father had grown up on this side of the fence. Two young people brought up in the rougher, more unfortunate areas. Your Mother was tough; she looked like a naïve, weak girl, albeit that was not the case. She was strong willed, used to life on the streets and doing anything she could to get money to make sure there was at least some food on the table. While your Mum was the leader, your Dad was more of a sheep. He was easily influenced and was dragged into the wrong crowd (had his fair share with drugs and street racing). That was their life for a few years till they crossed paths and your Mum helped your Dad get back on the right track.

They didn’t tell you much about their childhood and adolescence but they told you enough to make you appreciate what you have and to always work hard for it. To stick with the right people, be wise and conscious of your decisions. Be kind to those around you.

Your family owned a garage; your Dad was the head mechanic. This was the sole reason you were here. You knew it wouldn’t be simple when you agreed to go to this side of town to get a few bits for your Father’s shop. However, you didn’t expect it to be this difficult. How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you just ask Hoseok and Yoongi to come with you like your father told you to? Or at least tell them where you were… yet you decided today of all days to be stubborn and venture on yourself, knowing full well how unsafe the area was. There were rundown businesses on either side of the road, beggars at every doorstep; drug dealings happening in broad daylight, no one even trying to hide it.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you took it out and sighed a breath of relief once you’d read the texts.

14:37— From Papa: U ok munchkin ??? Did u get the stuff ?

14:39— From Papa: its ok if u didnt. Yoongs rang said hes got majority this morning lol so be safe n get home soon . Love u

14:40— To Papa: ohhh ok pops, i couldn’t find the shop anyway lol i’ll head back soon, love u too x

*LOW BATTERY*

“Fuck, trust me to forget to charge the bastard.” You rolled your eyes as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket.

Muffled shouting was heard around you. People ran across the street, bumping into you as they ran past. You gathered yourself and moved further down the path. “Great!” you exasperated, “honestly I’m so fucking stupid! Yoongi’s gonna kill me for this, I knew, I knew I should’ve told him I was coming over here but no,” your head was hung low as you dragged your feet across the pavement, “maybe I could tell Hobi, he wouldn’t be as angry right? I’m sure he’ll come,“ A sudden scream ripped you out of your chuntering. You whipped your head to the right, you could make out some figures bustling about in front of you, a group of men were quite clearly fighting… your anxiety struck you and you held your breath as you saw a man pull a knife from the waistband of his sweatpants. All thoughts and common sense seemed to leave all at once. Statue like, feet stuck to the ground. You watched on as the group rushed towards the brown haired man, you scanned his figure: tall, broad, confident… he exuded an intimidating aura even when you were this far away from him.

How could someone be so sure of themselves? It was one against five, surely the loner had no chance?

The glistening of the knife brought you back to your senses. Fucking hell. How do you always end up in these situations when you’re alone? Why me? Why? Good Lord, I need to run. Just as you were about to leave, the group who were arguing charged past you; one gripped his side as another supported his weight. Holy fuck, did he stab him? you stood frozen, yet again, your mind raced a mile a minute. Panic bubbled in your chest.

“You okay there Doll?” His voice was deep, velvet-like. It flowed so smoothly you doubted it was real, it was so soothing like it had wrapped itself around you, embracing your body. You heard his footsteps before he planted himself beside you. His shoulder reached the top of your head, his hand brushed yours. Swallowing your nerves you dared a glance up. He was fucking breath-taking, like a fallen angel. The stranger shot you a small smile that you would’ve easily missed had you not been staring at his features… a blush crept up your neck as you nodded. His smile slowly twisted into a smirk.

Cute, Taehyung thought to himself. Couldn’t help but adore the way you slightly trembled under his gaze, the way your hands gripped and twisted your sweater paws. Almost like a puppy. He cleared his throat and reached his hand to yours, “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Taehyung.” you took his hand into yours, apprehensively you greeted him, “I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, Y/N. I haven’t seen you round here before, you new or something?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, his eyes seemed to stare right through you.

“Uhm, I don’t live here. I live over the other part of Town… I was just grabbing some stuff for my Dad but, my phones about to die. I have no idea where I am or how to get home, I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t see anything!” a deep chuckle cut you off, Taehyung smiled and beckoned you to follow him.

“Come on Y/N, you’re not suited for this side of Town, I’ll walk you back. A pretty little thing like you, you’re easy prey to these guys.” your feet fell into a cautious pace behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, “hurry up Buttercup, I don’t bite.” Taehyung flashed a boxy grin in your direction, which caused you to speed up ever so slightly.

You were unsure how you felt about letting a complete stranger walk you home, Yoongi would definitely kill you for this. Especially with the recent news of some serial killer named ‘Jigsaw’, Yoongi and Hoseok had been very stern and their usual, overprotective selves when the news had broken out. “It’s on every headline Y/Nie! No more leaving the house on yourself, you need to go anywhere you ring either of us. Got it? Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either. There’s some dodgy fucks about recently.” Although, you loved them dearly, sometimes their protectiveness was a...little overbearing. You already felt suffocated from your parents (you didn’t need it from your best friends as well). They were happy and believed you to be too; but that was exhausting, faking happiness. You had a constant façade, acted like a happy normal teenager with a happy family; when that was far from the truth.

Drowning. That’s how you’d explain the way you felt. Breathing was difficult and brought you more pain than it was worth. Growing up was tedious, you had grown differently to your peers which only brought ridicule and embarrassment for you. You had struggled with your speech (sometimes you still do), you often stuttered, mispronounced words, the list was endless. That was one of the first reasons you were a castaway. As you grew, the ridicule worsened. Verbal abuse turned physical from your classmates. They made you feel like you were a waste of space. The names they called you, you soon started to believe them. Ugly. Weird. Freak. Stupid. They took root in your brain, slowly they grew and grew till your head was overgrown with twisted, rotten weeds.

Eventually, you sought comfort in blood. You didn’t care that it hurt you; you were almost happy to feel pain. Like you deserved to.

By age 14, you had started to skip school. Only ever there for exams and a couple of art classes you had with Jeongguk. He was what you would’ve called a best friend, he supported you and was by your side till you left school. He went away to college and like always with school friends, you drifted apart. Nevertheless, he still texts you now and then to check in.

Although you were (once) close with Jeongguk. He never knew of your inner demons, the same with Yoongi and Hoseok. You didn’t want to feel like a burden and worry your friends when they had shit to worry about themselves.

Why devastate flowers that flourish beautifully with weeds that manage to twist their way around every crack?

You had walked for a few minutes now, having chatted absentmindedly about anything and everything. The roads still didn’t look familiar to you and you just wished they did, you didn’t want to be away from your home any longer, your feet were starting to ache, your phone was on 10% battery and it was fucking cold. You just wanted to be back in bed tucked up watching Lady and the Tramp or 101 Dalmatians for the millionth time. You felt safe and content when you indulged in your comfort films. Far away from the real world and wrapped up in the false reality. They easily distracted you and that's when you truly felt at peace. Your mind was always too busy thinking about how cute it was when Tramp calls Lady, Pidge or how in love Pongo and Perdy were.

Majority of the time you fantasised about having a love similar, but then again, why would you wanna make yourself vulnerable like that? Is the risk of being hurt (more than you are now) any good? Of course it’s not. Fuck that, life isn’t nothing like those shitty romance films or novels… It’s real and painful.

As you and Taehyung rounded the corner, a little cafe caught your eye, a dainty blue and pink building. Fairy Lights strung up around the windows, you could see a handful of people inside, busy sipping their drinks and chatting away to one another. ‘Aroma Mocha’ hung above the doors. It looked so cute and simple. Your previous thoughts left your mind as quick as they had come. You wanted to go inside, it had an enticing atmosphere.

Taehyung hadn’t realised you’d stopped walking until he couldn’t hear the soft thud of your footsteps behind him, he turned as he called out to you, your eyes still fixed on the cafe. He chuckled to himself, “Fucking adorable, like a kid at christmas,” he walked back over to you. “Hey Doll, you wanna go in?” He felt his heart quicken when you looked at him with those pretty eyes, “We’ve plenty of time to get you back before it’s dark angel.” You answered him with a nod as you turned your head from Taehyung to look back at the alluring little cafe.

Not a second had passed before Taehyung grabbed your hand and pulled you across the road to the entrance; you ignored the warmth of his hand as it intertwined with yours; you ignored the way your tummy erupted with butterflies. Taehyung had stopped to hold the door for you, you murmured a small, “thank you,” looking up at him, the heat that crept up your cheeks making your face resemble that of a doll’s he thought to himself. Once he ushered you fully inside, he placed his hand to rest on the curve of your waist as he guided you to the back corner of the room, where a quaint table for two was unoccupied, a little pot of Daffodils sat atop. How fitting...

Taehyung was quick to pull the chair out for you to take a seat, you pulled it in as you sat down and sent a shy smile his way, “I’m sorry, I know we just met Taehyung but this place is so fucking precious! I hope I’m not bothering you, if I am we can just carry on walking or, I could ring a Taxi? Is this weird? Oh god, I can’t believe--”, Taehyung threw his head back as he laughed, a sound that seemed to wrap its way around your soul, twisting around your heart in the nicest of ways, it was almost like a killer to the weeds taking over your body. A temporary release. You felt like you could really breathe in those short seconds of his laughter.

“Angel, if you were bothering me, I’d have kept on walking. That, or I would’ve called you a Taxi myself, it’s no problem honestly.” You ducked your head as he sent a wink your way, fuck sake Y/N get it together! Why are you acting like a fucking schoolgirl?

“Well I uh, appreciate it so, yeah thank you?” You don’t know what to do, you’re here with the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid your eyes on… yet you have no clue if what you saw was real, did Taehyung stab someone? Could someone have had the knife who wasn’t Taehyung? Was he even the person you saw in that altercation? Did you imagine everything that had gone off?

Before you had chance to overthink it, a light bubbly voice greeted your ears, “Hi! Welcome to Aroma Mocha, I’m Jimin and I’ll be your server today. Is there anything I can get you?” Jimin held his gaze on you as he flashed you a friendly smile, Taehyung turned around at the sound of his best friend, “Oh, Tae! I wasn’t expecting to see you today, what are you doing here? And who’s this pretty little lady?”

“This is Y/Nie, she was in the neighbourhood so we thought we’d nip in for something to drink before I take her back to hers.” you sent a warm smile to Jimin which he gladly returned, “I’ll have my usual and can you get Y/Nie a Strawberry Iced Tea? Thanks man.”

Once Jimin had disappeared to make your drinks, you shot your eyes to Taehyung, “Uhm, how’d you know I like Strawberry Iced Tea?” Taehyung didn’t even look in your direction as he scrolled through his phone, eyes glued to the screen. A minute passed by and he’d still not acknowledged your question so you let it slide, it wasn’t that big of a deal right? Your mind drifted. Your fingers rested atop of your lap, hidden from the sight of onlookers, picking around your nails as anxiety flooded your body. You felt like you were about to suffocate. You shouldn’t be talking to anyone, you shouldn’t let anyone close. You were only going to fuck everything up in a heartbeat. It’s only natural. Self deprecating thoughts devoured and made their way through your veins, poisoning yourself further; your whole body felt as though it was alight.

Jimin brought you your drinks, placed them carefully in front of the pair of you as you both said your thanks.

The click of Taehyung’s phone being locked and the clearing of his throat brought you back to your senses. “The drink I ordered for you is popular here so, I assumed you’d like to try it. You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” your eyes shot up to meet his, your head tilted a little to the left as your tongue wet your lip, so puppy like...

You stared incredulously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Taehyung.” You leant forward slightly as you wrapped your lips around the straw and took a sip.

Taehyung saw the way you sucked your drink up through your straw, his eyes darkened. Thankful to have worn sweatpants that day, he shifted himself discreetly, “I’m not stupid Angel, I know what you’re doing under the table. I’m here, so talk to me. I’ll listen to whatever you gotta say.”

You stuttered as you wracked your brain for something to say, “I-I only met you like forty minutes ago, I don’t even tell my friends what’s wrong. Not that there is, everything’s fine.”

You met me just short of an hour ago, he thought to himself, “You don’t have to lie to me Y/Nie…” he grabbed your hands that were laid near the cup of your Iced Tea. His thumb rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. You looked small and fragile, like the Daffodils on the table; one little pluck and you’d be ruined. He wouldn’t admit it to you just yet but, Taehyung fucking loved how delicate you seemed as you sat across from him.

How easy it would be to take your life away. How easy it’d be to pull those weeds up that are poisoning you, torturing you every single day. He shook his head, as he cleared those thoughts. No, only Y/N can make that decision. I’m just going to help her choose.

Live or Die.

You visibly winced, “You don’t know me. Think whatever the fuck you want about me, it doesn’t matter.” your eyes flashed hurt as you went back to picking your skin. You knew it, this whole encounter was too good to be true. A complete stranger (well acquaintance technically) had just presumed shit about you, the fact he was right is what hurt more. You didn’t want anyone to know how you were feeling. Or how you were dealing with it.

You couldn’t exactly tell him to piss off, you still needed his help home and so you tried to distract yourself from the unsettling gaze that watched your every move. You let out a breath as Taehyung went back to his phone. Your eyes drifted as you picked up the local Newspaper, your eyes skimmed over the headline, ‘Jigsaw Traps Continue’. Taehyung noticed you staring at the front page, and chuckled, “you scared of Jigsaw Angel?”

You shook your head, why would you be scared of some nutjob who’s targeted criminals and drug dealers? You’re a nobody. “Of some psychopathic puppet?” if anyone did anything to you that would threaten your life, it would be you. Taehyung just laughed in return as you skipped the article and skim-read the other pointless stories.

You were fucking clueless as to who he was while he knew every little thing about you. He had watched you for months… His precious little Y/Nie… Oh how silly you were, taking your life for granted.

You hated yourself that much, you were willingly marking yourself up. Tainting your skin… oh your skin, how fucking beautiful and soft it looked, even with all the scars it still looked perfect… Taehyung wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and lock you inside with him. Forever. He didn’t want anyone touching what was his.

He knew you wore a mask when in public, too afraid to show your real self. Little did you know, he wore a mask himself...only he wore it to better other people.

He had a plan.

And you’d soon find out.

Let the games begin.

[dottielovegood]

ASMR - chapter 3

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

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You can find chapter 1 here and chapter 2 here Read this fic on AO3

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Chapter 3

Luckily for Azriel, the next day was a Saturday, which meant that he didn’t have to go to work. The only plan he had that day was his gym appointment at 7.00 in the morning, just like every other day. Cassian and Rhys often gave him shit for going to the gym that early in the morning on weekends, but they had partners to enjoy the days with. Azriel did not, which meant that working out was a good way to pass time. Especially for someone like Azriel who didn’t sleep and seemed to have more hours to his days than most regular people did.

However, today he woke up to the sun shining in through his window. He picked up his phone to check the time and was surprised to see that it said 9.23. He never slept that late. And he never slept that well.

She made me miss my gym appointment, Azriel thought to himself and couldn’t help but smile. And then it hit him. It was 9.23. That meant that Flower Girl ASMR would call him in exactly 37 minutes, and he hadn’t even had coffee yet. Azriel quickly got out of bed and hurried to the kitchen. While the coffee was brewing he jumped into the shower. He didn’t know why, but it felt wrong to be on the phone with her without having a shower first. Just like it would feel wrong to show up to a date without showering.

This is not a date, he told himself as he tied the towel around his hips and walked back into his kitchen. Azriel lived in a studio apartment, which meant that his ‘kitchen’ was actually a corner of his living room/bedroom. It was quite big for a studio apartment and he could easily fit his bed, a big sectional, and a dining room table in the room. There were exposed bricks on one wall which gave it a rustic feeling, and the white sleek details everywhere else made it feel modern and minimalistic - just like Azriel preferred.

Azriel leaned against his counter and sipped his coffee. He glanced at the clock on the wall which told him that he had 15 minutes left before the phone call. His hands were sweating. Was it because the coffee was so warm? Azriel tried to tell himself that the coffee was the reason for his warm hands, but it was more difficult to find an explanation for the butterflies in his stomach.

He was nervous. Not because of what they were going to talk about - he could probably guide someone through this in his sleep. But because she made him nervous. It’s one thing to see someone in a video and talk via DMs and an entirely different thing to facetime that person. What if she thought that he was ugly?

As the thought entered his mind, he shook his head as if trying to shake the thought away. Why did he care? He was just helping her with a problem. It didn’t matter if she found him ugly because this was a one-time thing. He would never see her again.

The butterflies turned into a tight knot in his stomach.

Azriel let out a low groan and went to his wardrobe to get dressed. He put on a black T-shirt and black jeans - his standard uniform. He dried his hair hastily with the towel before throwing it in the hamper.

At 10.00 on the dot, Azriel’s phone started ringing on the kitchen island. Or vibrating actually, since he always kept the sound off.

Unknown number is calling

Azriel stared at his phone, suddenly feeling very shy and questioning everything he knew about computers. He checked his reflection in the microwave and let out a deep breath before answering.

“Hello, this is Azriel.” His voice was hoarse, sounding deeper than usual.

“Oh, hi!” A cheery voice said and he was a bit taken aback. In his stupid brain, he had imagined her answering in her whispering voice. “Is this… is this Shadowsinger?”

Azriel decided that her normal voice was just as wonderful as her whispering voice.

“Yeah, this is Shadowsinger. Or well, that’s not my name. I’m obviously not called that. That would be weird…” Azriel babbled, growing more and more self-conscious by the second. He took a deep breath. “I’m Azriel.”

“Hi, Azriel. I’m Elain.” He could hear the smile in her voice and it made him think of sunshine and flowers.

Elain. The name suited her. It was a welsh name that meant fawn. Or at least that’s what Feyre told him one night when she had spent three hours going over possible baby names with their entire friend group (After three hours, Azriel, Cassian, Mor and Nesta had been very drunk and started suggesting weird names from TV such as Khaleesi, Anakin and Buffy which led to Rhys kicking them out.) But Elain wasn’t a weird name. It was pretty. Just like the person that the name belonged to.

“Hello, Elain,” Azriel said quickly when he realized that he had been quiet for a short while.

“Azriel is… an interesting name.” He couldn’t tell from her tone if it was good interesting or bad interesting.

He chuckled. “Yeah, try growing up with the nickname ‘Ass’ in school. Not Az. Ass.”

He could hear Elain laugh and it warmed his heart. “Oh no,” she giggled.

There was a stretch of silence then, both of them unsure of how to begin this.

“So...” Elain started after a few moments. “How do I block words on Youtube, Azriel?”

As soon as the words traveled through the phone, he wanted to ask her to say his name again, but that would be weird. So instead he cleared his throat and got himself into work mode.

“Well, I didn’t know if you were a visual learner, but I created a Youtube account yesterday so I could show you what to do, and you could just follow along if you like?”

God, was he doing too much? Would she find this creepy? Maybe he should just tell her what to do without video.

But to his surprise, Elain did not sound creeped out. “Really? That would be so helpful! How...How can I see your screen though?”

Azriel huffed a laugh. It was kind of cute that she was so oblivious when it came to technology even though she had 250k followers on Youtube.”Well, we’ll change to FaceTime and I will be able to flip the screen and just show you what I’m doing. Is that okay with you?”

He was met with silence.

“Elain?”

“Oh, sorry. I was nodding,” she laughed. “Yes, that’s fine.”

Azriel clicked the icon for FaceTime on his screen and within seconds, her face filled his screen. Her brown hair was in a high ponytail and she wore a mint green hoodie. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and Azriel had to catch his breath. God, why did she have to be so beautiful? He realized that he was staring at her through the screen but his brain wouldn’t form words.

“Hi,” Elain smiled, her cheeks turning pink. “I kind of forgot that we would see each other and not just a screen. Sorry that I look like a mess. I’m going to the gym after this...” She gestured to her hair and Azriel had no idea what mess she was referring to.

“What? You look wonderful,” he said and as soon as the words registered in his brain he wished to be swallowed up by a hole in the ground. He winced. “I mean... I just–” he was making it worse. Lovely. “I just meant that you don’t look like a mess.”

She gave him the sweetest smile. “Well, You don’t look too bad yourself.” She was blushing even more now. Was he blushing too? He had never blushed in his life, so he didn’t even know what that would feel like, but he did feel a bit hot.

Azriel cleared his throat. “So,” he started. “I’m going to flip my screen and film my laptop now. Tell me if you can see what I’m doing.”

“Okay!”

Azriel logged into Youtube and held his phone in front of the screen. “Can you see?” He held the phone in front of his computer, and even though she couldn’t see him anymore, he could still see her.

“Just a second,” she said and held up a finger. She was moving and so was her camera. When she reappeared, Azriel was very happy that she couldn’t see him. She was wearing glasses and they made her, if possible, even more attractive. Her beautiful golden eyes looked even bigger. Like a fawn, Azriel thought to himself.

“Yes, I can see when you have the phone so close to the screen,” she answered.

“Okay, good. Are you near your own computer?”

“Yes! And I’m already logged into my Youtube account.”

Azriel nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “Great. Then you should see your profile picture here in the corner.” He showed her where to look.

“Mhm, I see it.”

She was focusing so hard on the screen, she had probably forgotten that he could see her. She was leaning in close enough for Azriel to see her freckles.

I want to kiss every single freckle on her body.

The thought entered his brain before he could even react and he was very happy that she wasn’t a mind reader. He tried to ignore her face on his screen and focus on his task.

“You will click the photo, and that should display a menu,” he explained. “Like this. You are going to click ‘Youtube Studio’ here.”

Elain scrunched up her nose in concentration and Azriel thought that he might die from the cuteness.

“Done! What next?”

“Okay, then you click ‘Settings’ at the bottom here,” he showed her where to look. “And then you choose ‘Community’”

“Community?” She asked and bit her lip.

Azriel wanted to bite that lip too.

“Yeah,” he answered, happy that he didn’t have to come up with more advanced words.

“And then you scroll down to ‘blocked words’ here,” he instructed. “Are you there?”

“Yes, I found it,” she answered with a smile.

“Well, aren’t you a gold star student?” Azriel joked and Elain’s face went from smiling to blushing in a nano-second.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

There was a beat of silence again. Azriel wanted to kick himself.

“What now?” Elain asked in a low voice, still determined to get this over with.

“Well, now you just fill in the words you want to block. Make sure that you separate each word or phrase with a comma. And then you just press save and that’s it.”

“Oh, okay. That was easier than I imagined.”

Silence again.

“Can you manage from here?”

Elain bit her lip again. She was staring somewhere behind her phone; probably at her computer. “Ehm, I’m not sure what words to block.”

Azriel thought back to the awful comments he had seen and could think of a handful of words.

“Well, just block the words that these commenters often use, and maybe block bad words in general? You can review your comments later, so if nice comments are being filtered, you can choose to restore them while deleting the bad ones.”

Elain nodded and Azriel didn’t know if he should hang up or stay. So he stayed. His camera was still facing his computer, and Elain was still filming herself. She looked lost in thought.

“Are you okay, Elain?” Azriel asked cautiously, afraid to startle her.

“Hmm?” She looked straight at the camera now, eyes still glossy.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just… tired. I really like doing ASMR, but this sucks. I just want to make people happy and spread positivity, you know? And still, I have to deal with this.”

“Yeah, that must suck.”

Azriel had a question that he had been burning to ask, but he didn’t know if it was too personal. However, as he told himself before, they were never going to see each other again. He could always ask, and the worst thing he could get was a ‘no, I don’t want to talk about it’.

So he asked.

“Elain, can I ask you something?”

She nodded absentmindedly.

“Yesterday you wrote that you had blocked those trolls multiple times. Are you certain that they’re the same people?”

She nodded again. “Yes. In the beginning, they were a bit more creative with the usernames which threw me for a loop. But I realized that it was the same IP addresses every single time, so yeah. I know. I mean, I get hate from complete strangers too, but these people are a bit more persistent .” The last word was spoken through her teeth. She looked upset, but she also looked like she wanted to hide it. Azriel decided to switch his camera back to his face so she wouldn’t feel as vulnerable. And so he wouldn’t feel like a creep for staring at her.

Elain looked a bit startled. “Oh, hi again,” she smiled, but it wasn’t as genuine anymore.

“Do you know these people?” Azriel asked through gritted teeth. He didn’t know why, but he felt very protective all of a sudden.

“Yes, I do. At least the three people that commented yesterday…” she bit her lip again, probably contemplating if she should tell him more. “It’s my ex.”

Azriel tried his hardest to not look surprised and pissed off at the same time. “All three of them?”

With a surprised look on her face, she shook her head quickly. “Oh, god no. No. Just one. His name is Graysen.”

MortalGraysen. Azriel remembered the username because it had sounded so stupid.

“And the other two?”

She let out a long breath. “His stupid best friends, Amarantha and Hybern. Stupid names, right?”

Azriel could only agree. “Very. Why is he bothering you like this, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Elain took off her glasses and massaged her temple lightly. “I dumped him after he slept with Amarantha and then…” she chewed the inside of her cheek. “Then he told all of our friends that he only slept with her because I was so boring in…'' her cheeks flushed again and she didn’t finish that sentence. She didn’t have to. Azriel understood perfectly.

“Okay, so he really is an asshole then.”

“The biggest.”

“Well, I don’t think you can block IP addresses on Youtube, but you could always try to block their names. It might work for a while at least?” Azriel suggested. He needed to help her.

“That’s smart!” she exclaimed and sat her phone down to type. He was very happy that she had leaned it against something so he could still see her.

“What other words should I add?”

Azriel thought back to the comments he had seen. Boobs, nudes, cock, jerk off and tits were all words that she should block, but they were also words he didn’t feel like saying in front of her.

“Just check their old comments and block the words they have used.”

“I’ve deleted the comments, but I remember a few words.” She typed again and Azriel could tell that she was uncomfortable.

“Hey, just block all sexual words and maybe swear words? That should probably work for a while?”

“Okay.” She typed again while Azriel waited patiently. Honestly, he would probably wait forever if it meant that he could watch her on his screen like this.

He felt like a teenager with a crush on the coolest girl in school. He knew that she was out of his league, but his body had not gotten the memo…

“I think I’m done,” she announced and smiled at her phone. At him.

Azriel smiled back. “Which words did you write?” he asked out of curiosity.

Elain picked up her phone and switched the camera so he could see her computer. In the box for ‘blocked words’ she had indeed written a few words.

Blocked words Graysen, Hybern, Amarantha, Boring, Dumb, Stupid, Weird, Ugly, Penis, Vagina, Sex, Sexy, Breasts, Feet, Ejaculation, Nipple, Damn, Fuck, Darn it, Hell,

“Do you think that’s enough?” She asked him in a low voice as if she was ashamed of what she was showing him.

Azriel had to bite his lip in order to keep himself from grinning. It was kind of sweet that she had written down the more technical terms, and not any words that would actually be used on the internet.

“Well, I think it’s a good start,” Azriel answered. “But I think there are a few more words that you should add. And maybe some you can remove from the list.”

“Which ones can I remove?” She leaned closer to her computer, probably trying to find the redundant words.

“I don’t think that trolls will use Darn it, for example.”

Elain pressed the backspace key a few times.

“And which words should I add?” she asked the screen. Her glasses had slid down her nose a bit and Azriel had an urge to reach through the screen and push them back into place.

Azriel scratched his chin, thinking about the best way to phrase it. “Maybe a few synonyms for the words you have written down?”

“Such as?”

Azriel held his breath. “Well…” Azriel hesitated. Was she serious or was she just trying to get him to say dirty words? “I don’t think that internet trolls will use the word vagina.”

“Oh,” her ears turned a lovely pink color. “So I should just add synonyms for that word then?”

“Sure.”

Elain looked lost in thought for a moment before typing again, this time a bit more aggressively. “There are quite a lot,” she muttered.

“Really?” Azriel could only think of two; pussy and cunt.

“Yes. I googled it.”

Of course, she googled a list of synonyms for vagina. Azriel couldn’t hold back his grin this time. She gave him a look he couldn’t decipher. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, still grinning. “Can you read me this list of synonyms?” he teased, thinking that she would tell him to fuck off.

He was wrong.

“Well, there’s pussy, cunt, vajayjay, punani, ho-ha, flower…” she drifted off and Azriel could tell the exact moment it hit her that she was reading these words to a man she didn’t know. “Oh, god,” she groaned and hid her face in her hand. “Please ignore everything that just happened.”

Azriel chuckled. “I rather not. What’s the weirdest word on the list?”

He was invested now.

Elain looked at him through the screen again, but this time he could tell that she was suppressing a smile. “The weirdest one must be fish taco, or bald man in a boat. One just sounds disgusting, and the other one is just… weird? Like, I don’t get it.”

“I think that the ‘bald man’ is supposed to be the...uh,” Azriel could not finish that sentence. He knew that he was blushing now, too.

“Oh,” she said looking surprised, and then disgusted. “Oh, that just makes it worse.”

The laugh that followed was contagious.

As she laughed, Azriel thought back to the day before. To when he had watched her video to fall asleep. In her videos, she was so calm and collected - the complete opposite from this bubbly, laughing person on his screen. Both sides of her were equally fascinating to Azriel and he wished that he could get to know her better. She was so easy to talk to. Azriel never found anyone easy to talk to. At parties, you could find him in the corner with a drink and a good book. He was not a talkative man. But with Elain, he wanted to talk. And he wanted to listen. He wanted her to tell him about her day and her life, which was absurd. They had been talking for like 30 minutes. They didn’t know each other. They would never get to know each other.

“Thank you for helping me with this, Azriel,” Elain said when the laughter had died down. “I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for being a bit weird and reading you that list. I hope that I didn’t cross a line or…”

Azriel held up a hand to show her that he didn’t mind. “It’s no problem, honestly. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this much.”

Elain shifted in her seat and picked up her phone again, moving it closer to her face again. “Just like you couldn’t remember the last time you had slept well?”

For a second, Azriel was truly afraid that she was a mind reader because that meant that she had heard him think that he wanted to kiss all her freckles. And then, he remembered the comment he had left on her video a few days earlier.

“Yeah, just like that.”

She leaned her head to the side and regarded him through the phone. “Is that true? You can’t remember having a good night’s sleep?”

Azriel shook his head. “I have suffered from insomnia since I was a child. Sleep has never been a positive experience for me.”

He had never opened up like this to anyone. His former girlfriend never understood why he was awake and why he hated sleepovers. The insomnia had definitely destroyed a few relationships over the years. He could tell that Elain wanted to ask about it, but she didn’t. He really appreciated that.

“Well, I’m happy that I can help you with that anyway. It makes me feel less horrible for making you help me with this on a Saturday morning,” she said and gestured to her computer.

“You didn’t make me do anything. I offered. I was happy to help.”

She gave him the sweetest smile yet and Azriel was surprised when he didn’t melt into a puddle. “Well, thank you. Can I pay you for your trouble?”

Before she had even finished the sentence Azriel shook his head. “No, Elain. I really don’t want you to pay me.”

“Okay,” she bit one side of her lip again. Those damn lips. “Can I give you something else then?”

Did her tone sound flirty? Azriel didn’t know. He might just be hopeful because he started imagining all kinds of things she could give him.

“Like, maybe you could tell me your favorite trigger and I’ll make sure that my next video includes it?”

Azriel swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling very thick. “You don’t have to do that, I...”

“But I want to,” she interrupted. “What’s your favorite trigger?”

Azriel was trying to figure out a way to tell her that she was his favorite trigger without sounding like a serial killer. “Well, I don’t really know. I like when you whisper,” he tried, and when she smiled and nodded encouragingly, he continued. “Honestly Elain, I have tried to watch other ASMR videos but they don’t make me fall asleep. Your videos make me fall asleep within minutes. Whatever magic you put into your videos, that’s probably my trigger,” he half-joked.

“Hmm,” Elain regarded him. “I’ll figure something out.” She winked at him teasingly and Azriel hated that this was the first and last time he would ever get to talk to her.

“Well, I really have to go,” Elain declared. “I’m meeting a friend at the gym.”

“Yeah, I have to go too,” Azriel lied. He would have canceled any plan he ever had if he could continue this conversation.

“Well, thank you again for your help, Azriel.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She removed her glasses and looked straight into her camera. It felt as if she was staring into his soul.

“Goodbye, Shadowsinger.”

“Goodbye, Flower Girl.”

The call disconnected and he was left staring at his apps. Not a single one interested him.

With a heavy sigh, Azriel walked to his bed. He was planning to lay down and scream into a pillow when he received a text from a number he didn’t recognize.

New message I searched for a few more synonyms, and this one for penis is horrendous. Just listen to this: Meat banjo. Isn’t that just horrible? I’m definitely blocking that word.

Azriel couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. It really was a horrendous synonym and he could imagine her sitting in front of her computer, making disgusted faces at the various words on her screen.

New message Oh, this is Elain, by the way.

And that’s when it hit him.

She had texted him and he could see her number. That meant that he could save her number on his phone. It also meant…

Well, he honestly didn’t know what it meant, but he didn’t feel like screaming into his pillow anymore.

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter xiii

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

As excited as I was about her accepting my proposal, I couldn’t deny that I was nervous about it, too. Being with her during a trip to her family’s house was one thing - actually living together was something else entirely.

One month in and all of my anxiety had disappeared, though. We easily settled into a routine and although she didn’t accept to move into my bedroom, she wasn’t against ending up there when the baby was keeping her awake or she wanted to get something off of her chest.

That was my favorite part about having her as a roommate, actually. Her voice being the first thing I heard in the morning and most often then not, the sound that I listened to as I fell asleep every night.

Even if we hadn’t been… intimate ever since the trip, the very nature of our relationship seemed to have changed in a way or another. Now, I felt more comfortable being flirty with her without the fear of crossing a line. It seemed like I’d learned what was appropriate to do with her and what wasn’t, but I liked to think that she warmed up to my ways a bit, as well.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get rid of the night shirt and come to bed completely nude, darling?” I asked her one of the evenings she patted towards my mattress after I’d already dimmed the lights, only to hear her warm chuckle as she slipped underneath my blanket - unfortunately, still dressed.

“Not tonight, honey.” I didn’t say anything else because I still struggled to admit just how much the petname affected me. And any night I managed to fall asleep with her in my arms, my hands over my child, was a win for me, even if I was having to ignore my cock much more than I’d ever had to do before.

I was okay with being patient, though. Especially since I was reaping the rewards from it, even if they were completely different from the things I had grown accustomed to look for my entire life.

“Ransom, your phone’s ringing.” Her sweet voice pierced my concentration easily, getting me to finally realize the device had been buzzing right in front of me for at least a few seconds without managing to catch my attention.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Looking over the blinking screen, I was surprised to see my grandfather’s name staring back at me. “Hello?” I greeted, intrigued about why he was calling but not all that surprised since it did happen once or twice a month.

“Ransom?” He confirmed like he usually did, making me smile.

“Yeah, it’s me.” I could hear the rustle of papers in the distance, it made me picture him in his study, surrounded by his books and pens, his natural habitat.

“I was just calling to check in on you. It’s been over a month since you last came to visit.” It was like a bucket of ice had been dropped on top of me. He was right. Usually, I’d visit him weekly, or once every two weeks - but ever since I traveled with Y/N to her parent’s place, I hadn’t visited my grandfather or even sent him a message or anything.

“Oh, shit!” I cursed, running my fingers through my hair as I smiled to Y/N so she wouldn’t think anything too bad was happening when her eyebrows flew up in surprise at my reaction. “Well, I’m about to leave the house to take Y/N to work, how about if I stop by your place on my way back home?”

Silence followed my question, making me furrow my eyebrows. Then, as my grandfather answered with his own question, I realized just how hugely I’d screwed up.

“Who the hell is Y/N?”

Harlan’s P.O.V.

Ransom was trying to act as nonchalant as possible when he got out of the car, which meant that he was seriously nervous about talking to me today. He knew me enough to be aware of how I watched everyone arrive at my house from the windows in my study, and so he tried to come accross as calm and collected but missed it by a mile.

“Hey!” He greeted after knocking to announce his entrance. I was surprised to notice the little differences in his appearance - how his hair was a bit longer, like he hadn’t had the time to give it a cut or hadn’t really cared to do so, how he kept trying to hide a small smile that seemed to be permanently etched into his expression now.

This wasn’t the same Ransom I’d always known. The Ransom I’d known had carefully constructed a mask that sported a scowl since he left his childhood, whereas this one seemed to have rediscovered the joy he used to be filled with when he was young, while still carrying some of the weight of adulthood over his shoulders.

A month ago, I wasn’t even sure Ransom knew that adulthood was supposed to be heavy.

“Hello!” I greeted back, waiting for him to occupy his usual chair before me. “It’s good to see your face again. It seems like so much has happened in your life since the last time you paid me a visit.”

The guilt was clear in his expression - another thing I wasn’t used to seeing in my grandson. It only added to my curiosity, my desire to understand exactly what had happened to make such an impact on Ransom.

“I’m sorry for forgetting to call, life’s been crazy,” he explained, to which I nodded patiently.

“So it seems… Care to tell me more about it? Is it because of the baby?” Ransom finally raised his gaze to meet mine, expression stuck between fear and excitement, and it made me smile. He looked so much like a kid, thinking he might have done something wrong, but that something was so fantastic to him, it made it worth the risk of being caught.

“Yes… and no.” And so he launched into an explanation of what it was that he’d been doing the last few weeks he’d been absent. The more spoke, the brighter his eyes became, the more energized his movements were. So by the time that he was done retelling the tale of his pursuit of a closer relationship with the mother of his child, one thing was abundantly clear.

“You’re in love.” He fidgeted on his seat at the affirmation, averting his gaze once more, but didn’t deny it. It had me opening up a smile, barely believing what I was clearly seeing. “Well, this turned out better than I had hoped for.”

Ransom’s head whipped up to find me genuinely happy with what he had shared, and I could see that a weight left his shoulders when he realized that I wasn’t against the incredible changes that he was going through in life.

“What you have found with that woman is something very precious, Ransom. Now, you have to be careful not to lose it.” He gulped, visibly concerned about the possibility, and it only made me more aware of just how deeply he felt for the woman. “I can see that you’re trying. That’s more than you’ve been willing to do your entire life.”

It took him a while to find the courage to say what he wanted to voice. It was clear something was stuck in his head, running in circles, worrying him. “It’s just so hard to look at her and have to remember that she’s not mine.” He hesitated a bit before admitting, “I-I’m terrified.”

“That’s how you know that what you feel is love.” I smiled as patiently as I could to my grown-up grandson who was just now figuring out what life was truly about. “If you weren’t scared to lose her, it wouldn’t be it.”

I knew there was more that he wanted to ask. Now that he’d seen that he didn’t need to be scared to open up his heart, it didn’t take him as long to question, “How do I make her fall in love with me too? She’s so… different from me. Much better than me.” A self-conscious chuckle gave away just how dark his mind was when it came to himself. “She’s almost innocent, in contrast.”

I gave him a smile that I hoped would offer some comfort, reaching over my desk to grasp his wrist. “If you keep being patient, it’s only a matter of time.” From what he told me, it was clear that the girl actually liked him, and was just having a hard time giving into the feeling - much like he was.

“Say, I’ve asked you this about a thousand times since you’ve become of age, but I’m getting the feeling this time you might give me a different answer. Would you like to accompany me to the publishing house later in the week? I want to get your opinion on some of the different projects we’re starting for the next quarter.” I watched him take a deep breath before giving me an answer, and I knew what was going through his head. He was thinking about her and what she would think of his decision when he nodded and said the words I’d been hoping to hear for the last twenty years.

“Yes, I would very much like that.”

[valberryy]

good god, let me give you my life. — kaeya

another converted oc fic!!!! yes i have many kaeya thoughts....... and i missed this oc in particular QAQ anyways please accept this word vomit its like 2k words im sorry idk what possessed me

pairing: kaeya x fem!reader

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries + alcohol, light swearing (like, three instances max)

Kaeya had seen that doe-eyed look countless times before, but there was still something about the way your gaze burned almost incredulously into his own that made his smirk grow wider.

"Kaeya, you asshole!" you exclaimed, but your half-exasperated anger just made him laugh—by the Seven, you were even more fun to tease than Diluc! 

"What's the rush?" he laughed, ignoring your hand on his chest to balance herself as you tiptoed to where he was holding your Vision right out of your reach. "Is widdle [Name] so scared of—"

You elbowed him in the gut at that, and his grip on your Vision wavered as he let out a pained oof. You pinned it back to where it normally hung, and a glance at your clothes—the buttoned up coat, the bags placed haphazardly on the ground next to your boots—was all it took for the lucidity to return to Kaeya's eyes.

"The others are waiting," you muttered, gaze downcast and cheeks flushed from the cold. Kaeya nodded. Wordlessly, you grabbed his hands and squeezed, ever so gently.

"I promise we'll come back to visit," you said. "And I'll write a lot."

Kaeya nodded again, a devious grin pulling at his lips but faltering at the edges. "When you do come back I'll ask Master Crepus to throw a party and I'll read out your letters for everyone to hear—"

"You—!"

"...So come back safe, okay?"

A sigh, then, and another light squeeze of his hands. 

"I promise."

With that, Kaeya finally let you go—and already missing the warmth of your palms and the fleetingness of your touch, he watched as your back disappeared off into the horizon.

Kaeya often found himself waiting, those days, to the point that he might have called himself distracted if he hadn't known any better. The smile that graced his lips at each letter—which always started with your and your brother's neat handwriting, with little comments from your sister sprinkled all throughout, and sealed with some local flower or other—never failed to go unnoticed, to the point that even Diluc found himself sighing at the sight.

"You're an idiot," he had said, and nothing else.

Each year your visits had become a staple of summer, and for days on end Master Crepus' manor was filled with foreign music and dance. Kaeya never read out your letters like he said he would, but you two would always sneak out of the party with a bottle of champagne, and you would whisper gossip to each other like you always used to, conspiratory and scheming.

(Once, just as a laugh was about to spill from his lips, you placed your palm over the lower half of his face and kissed the back of your hand. "I thought you were bolder than that," he teased, and with a scoff you plucked the bottle from his hands.

"Oh? I'd like to see you do better, lover boy.")

One year the letters stopped, and you never came to visit. Winter came all too soon. The calla lilies in your last letter had begun to wilt.

The next year, he and Diluc parted ways. As their swords clashed for the last time, he wished it was your flames that had scorched him instead.

Two years hence, the Knights of Favonius found a young woman, half-conscious and all but bleeding out, under the tree at Windrise.

Kaeya had stopped in his tracks when he heard, his silver tongue going dry behind the calm smile he put on. "Thanks for the news," he told his subordinate. "I'll check it out."

As soon as he was alone, he let the panic sink in.

His walk to the cathedral was exceedingly brief, and Kaeya wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing. As he walked towards the infirmary he heard Barbara's voice—

"...but do you remember anything else?"

A pause, then a blunt, "No."

—And as he walked inside he saw the deaconess with her tome, and a little ways behind her was...you. You seemed a little pale and worse for wear, but when you looked at him with the same doe-eyed look as before, Kaeya couldn't help but feel the slightest bit relieved.

"You really worried me back there, love," he said smoothly. "How are you feeling now?"

You glanced almost unnoticeably at Barbara, who seemed to mouth something along the lines of, "Later."

"Alive, I guess," you responded, then paused for a good moment as you glanced at him fully. Kaeya raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry…" you said, "It's just that I've heard so much about you, but—"

But what? he thought, and felt his blood run cold again.

"—I have no idea who you are."

—

Kaeya thought it the worst of cruelties for you to be so similar to your old self, yet so wholly, horribly different. You walked with the same languid grace, spoke with the same haughtiness and pride, still tapped your teaspoon against the rim of your teacup—three times, every single time, with a resounding chime.

But you no longer looked at him the same, no longer laughed at his old jokes, no longer called him by his name. It was always captain or sir, and never what he so desperately longed to hear.

"You Knights are always so ineffective," Diluc sighed, and for the first time in years the Ragnvindr brothers finally found themselves in agreement.

Kaeya laughed self-pityingly, running one hand through his hair and using the other to swirl the contents of his half-empty glass. Another sigh, and just as he was about to speak again, the door to Angel's Share opened to the sound of laughter.

"Venti, I said no—"

"Oh, come on! All you've been doing is reading that journal of yours! I thought you—"

There was an indignant, ungraceful sounding yell, and the rest of Venti's words were muffled by what Kaeya assumed was your hand. You two whispered together some more—he even thought he heard you threaten him, if he wasn't mistaken—and with your defeated sigh, Venti began to tune his lyre.

Ah, you was going to dance, then. 

Kaeya turned in his seat to the point where he could watch them from the corner of his vision, taking another drink from his steadily-emptying glass. With gentle hands, the bard began to pluck at his lyre strings, and with the same practiced, precise movements he committed so dearly to memory, your body began to sway.

He knew this one—it started off slowly, gently, only to speed up as the music did as well. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three-four, went your heels against the wooden floor, and as the song ended and you bowed with a haughty flourish, Kaeya had abruptly stood up and left the tavern.

Your steps were light against the cobblestone when you caught up with him, that same night.

"Captain," you said, "you've been avoiding me."

He turned around to face you, a practiced smile on his lips. He couldn't look you in the eyes, though, no matter how intensely your gaze burned into him. "Oh? What might you be doing out so late, Miss [Surname]?" 

You sighed, placing a hand on your hip. "You knew me before, right? That's why you keep running away?"

Kaeya's tongue went dry as he heard you speak. Ah, what does he say to this? He watched you sigh again, but this time you brought out the musty old journal that he knew hung from your waist.

You held it out to him expectantly, but he didn't take it.

"...We knew each other," he eventually replied, soft and without any of his normal bravado. "We were…close."

Your face remained impassive, but there was a glint in your eyes that gave your suspicion away. "...I see," you said. "Then…I want to start again. I can't be the person you knew before, but…"

It was Kaeya who sighed this time, endearingly. "You really haven't changed," he said, before holding out a hand for you to shake. "Allow me to reintroduce myself, then. Kaeya Alberich, at your service."

You smiled, and he felt his heart flutter and ache alike at the sight. Taking his hand, you said, "[Name] [Surname]…a pleasure it is to finally know you, Kaeya."

—

Whenever dusk fell, Kaeya would often find you at one of the many taverns littered throughout the city, but your favourite seemed to be the Angel's Share, of all places. If you weren't dancing along to whatever tune the bard was singing, you were often talking with Diluc from the opposite end of the bar, sipping from your glass of wine. 

And whenever Kaeya would walk in you would turn to him and raise your glass in greeting, crowing something or other about coincidence, and he would say something or other about fate; and then you would drink together as his brother grew increasingly exasperated at the volume. 

One evening, he had lost track of how many rounds he had when his head began to grow fuzzy. He was only half-conscious of Charles' sigh, and you saying something along the lines of, "I'll bring him home."

With practiced ease—likely from your time hanging around with that drunkard bard—you lifted him up and slung his arm around your shoulders, struggling a bit from his height. "C'mon, captain, let's get you home," you said, to which he merely nodded and buried his face in the warmth of the crook of your neck.

"Y'know, it was always you getting wasted like this," he drawled. "Master Crepus used to—! He used to always scold us for stealing wine, but you were always half passed out so you never heard any of it."

You looked down, seemingly deep in thought. "It sounds like we were very close," you said, and he chuckled and hummed in the affirmative. 

He began rambling again as you made the short walk to his house, continuing even as you dug through his pockets for his keys. How he still reads your letters, how you made fun of his eyepatch the very first time he wore it, how you two used to climb the tree at Windrise, hoping always, in vain, to somehow reach the highest bough. If he were less shitfaced and more sober perhaps he would have found it in himself to stem the waterfall of words spilling from his lips—honest and raw in a way neither of you were used to—but as it stood, all he could have done was bare his heart to you like this.

You were silent as you laid him down on his bed, mumbling more to yourself than to anyone else, "You need to drink water, Kaeya."

The silence between you hung heavy like a body on the gallows. 

"I really loved you, you know."

Another pause, then, and then the soft caress of your palm against his cheek, and the lightest brush of your lips against his forehead.

"...Good night, Kaeya."

The next day, Kaeya woke up with the worst bitch of a migraine he's ever had in his life. As he rose to get a glass of water, he suddenly became aware of several things: firstly, the fact that he was a fucking idiot; second, the fact that he needs to get black-out drunk less often; and third, the fact that you were lying asleep on his couch, your journal in one hand and your other arm hanging off the side.

He sighed, placing down the empty glass, and walked over to you—and with your same gentleness from the night before, Kaeya brushed aside your bangs to press a kiss to your forehead.

—

"Snrk—you what?"

"Oh, yes, and then after that Jean said—"

You cut off the rest of his story by shoving a piece of meat in his mouth, and when Kaeya managed to swallow it he was met with the sight of your smug smile and your eyes still bleary from laughing. 

"There's no way all of that happened because of a rabbit," you said, to which he laughed good-naturedly, followed by a sip from his glass of wine.

"You'd be surprised what kinds of things Klee can get herself into."

You laughed again, and he took another drink of wine. Ah, he missed this, he thought. Missed the way the breeze here at Windrise smelled of asters, missed the way the moonlight trickled down through the leaves of the giant tree. 

(Most of all, he missed the little way your nose would crinkle when you laughed, but he'd prefer not to say that aloud, lest he be hit over the head with the wine bottle he brought along today—amnesia or not, he knew very well it was still within your strength to do so.)

Kaeya watched as you closed your eyes to enjoy the evening breeze, your hair like a wildfire in the breeze. You looked at him then, your eyes heavy with a certain lucidity that he couldn't name, but still managed to shake him somehow.

"...I'm in love with you, Kaeya."

When he smirked and said, "So I get to brag that I made you fall for me twice?" he was met with the same indignant, doe-eyed glare from all those years ago.

"I'm being serious!" you exclaimed, but he only laughed again, and covered your mouth with the palm of his hand. Before you could protest again, he kissed the back of his own hand and pulled away, a cheeky grin on his lips.

"Where'd all that bravado go, Mr. Casanova?"

Kaeya was hit with a pang of nostalgia, then. He looked at you, cheeks lightly flushed from the cold breeze and embarrassment alike, and his smile only widened further.

"Hmm? Think you can do any better, dearest?"