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emiewritesthings · 2 years

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spiderman ☆ jay halstead

summary: in which y/n has a fear of spiders and jay is always her first call

warnings: language, violence against spiders (rip lol)

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.” Y/n chanted to herself as the phone against her ear rang in search of a connection to the other line. Admittedly, her hands were shaking and each breath felt like a million tiny daggers poking in her lungs, as her eyes stared at the closed bathroom door.

“Y/n?” Jay’s voice finally shot through the ringing in her ears, and a relief filled sigh left her lips. Her want to jump for joy was ignored as she remembered that she was not on the floor right now, and in grave danger of injuring herself if she lost her balance. “What happened to ‘I’m never talking to you again, Jay Halstead’?” The man’s smirk was audible to the woman that couldn’t see his smug face, and as much as she wanted to check him for it, she also wanted his help and therefore needed to appease him with some kindness.

The words he’d reference had been spoken a couple days prior when the younger woman had a few too many and upon walking her home, Jay had refused her the opportunity to get a kebab. Although Y/n’s memory was a little pathy due to being the tester of Molly’s new cocktail menu, she did remember violently crying and declaring her hatred for the man that was keeping her drunk self away from her one true love.

“Ah, well, that was before satan decided to crawl into my fucking house.” She screeched as she thought about the beast she had encountered just moments before she’d ran into the bathroom following the release of a hearty scream. She had half expected her neighbours to come check if she was okay, or even ring the police considering the noise that echoed around her small apartment. But any such action was yet to be taken, as far as Y/n was aware.

“Satan, huh?” Jay looked over at Hailey who was driving silently, only being able to hear Jay’s side of the conversation, much to her dismay. The blonde didn’t fully understand the male detective’s knowing look, not having half the relationship Jay shared with the firefighter, but knew that the ‘satan’ in question wasn’t the red horned pitchfork sporting kind.

“Don’t fuck with me right now, Halstead. I am still recovering from witnessing it scuttle under my sofa.” She breathed out a rugged breath, wiping the back of her hand against her forehead where beads of fear spawned on her skin. Jay had to hold back his laughter, knowing that the woman on the other end of the line would undoubtedly get annoyed and hang up.

“So this Satan in question,” Jay swallowed his smile as he turned on the speaker, allowing Hailey a front row seat to the ever humorous Y/n y/l/n show. “Is it spider?” Snapping her head off the road for a second, Hailey mouthed ‘seriously?’ silently, cracking up so bad that Jay had to mute the call for a moment to stop her struggles to contain said amusement from floating down into Y/n’s ears.

“A spider the size of godzilla!” Y/n bit back, already not liking that Jay wasn’t taking her very real problem unseriously. Just at the mention of the culprit had her underarms sweating and a shiver slicing its way down her spine. The flashback made her try to take a step back, which in her current circumstance had her letting a string of curse words flow off her tongue as she grabbed onto the wall, preventing her fall. Hearing the commotion, Jay unmuted the call.

“Where are you right now?” Jay asked, knowing that from the way her voice sounded she certainly wasn’t lulling on her couch or even lounging on her bed. No, she sounded… echoey?

“Hiding in the bathroom, where else would I be?” She shrugged off the question in a whisper, as if the sound of the voice may lure the creature towards her safe haven and attack her. Which to a rational person was ridiculous, but to Y/n a growing fear. “I’m standing on the edge of the bath, just in case it gets under the door, you know?” Jay didn’t know, but imagining the beautiful young woman balancing up high scouring any slight movement lightened his mood considerably.

“How are you trusted to fight fires if you are scared of a mesley spider?” Jay snorted, knowing the horror stories of the disasters Y/n had quite literally ran into as part of her profession, and yet the thought of being face to face with a harmless eight legged insect kicked in her flight instinct?

“I do not need your sass right now, Jay. I need you to bring your gun.” She insisted with a stern tone, which soon softened upon requesting his services. “You think you could come get it for me?” She pleaded and Jay instantly could imagine her eyes large and doe like, a look that resembled the call of a siren, only at least the latter led a sailor to death, the former on the other hand just tortured him every living moment. Letting out a sigh in thought - though both of them knew ther

“If I show up and it’s just a bit of fluff again-.” Jay started, reminding them both of the time that the woman had called for help in the early hours of the morning, for the man to drive thirty minutes to find it was indeed just a black piece of fluff from her sock. Y/n cringed at the memory and the embarrassment she had felt towards the man that - at the time - she hadn’t known that long.

“You won’t, I promise.” The man knew she was crossing her heart - even if he couldn’t see it. Looking towards Hailey who just nodded, confirming she was fine making a diversion, Jay agreed reluctantly.

“I won’t be there for another twenty minutes.” Y/n let out a squeal of joy at her knight in shining armour, her arms wanting to wrap around his body and squeeze him had he been there and not somewhere else in the city. The sounds were infectious, both detectives sat in the moving black truck unable to stop their lips tipping at the sweet sounds,

“You are the best, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Saying their goodbyes and once again ensuring that he wouldn’t be long, Jay hung up the phone and relaxed into his seat. However, he was forced to take a break when he felt Hailey glancing between him and the road. Frowning, he met her gaze and instantly groaned at the look that rested there.

“Don’t you dare.” Hailey shook her head with a wide grin, as Jay turned to look out the window - internally grateful for the spider in Y/n’s apartment that had given him the perfect excuse to see her.

–

“Y/n?” Jay called from the doorway once the key - which Y/n had gifted to him once when he was plant sitting and never asked for back - had unlocked her front door. Jay’s eyes widened at the mess her living room was in, the coffee table flipped and the sofa on its side, signally Y/n’s messy escape.

Shaking his head in amusement, he stepped over a stray pillow, and headed straight towards the closed bathroom door. Approaching, he could hear her humming to herself, clearly having become seriously bored and in desperate need of some form of entertainment.

Bringing his fist up to the white chipping paint that coated the wood, he let his knuckles rasp against it a couple times, observing as the noise stopped and an ominous silence followed.

“Who is it?”

“It’s the spider coming to kill you, thought I’d knock to be polite,” Y/n rolled her eyes immediately, instantly moving to unlock the door and pull it open just a crack for her left eye to peer through.

“Real funny.” She scoffed, though internally she was glowing at her rescuer finally arriving to get her out of the miniature bathroom that definitely was running out of oxygen. Moving closer and leaning down so he was closer to the eye staring at him, Jay just grinned.

“Almost as funny as you locking the door to keep a spider out.” Staring at one another - well sort of - for a moment, Y/n wanted to argue her reasoning and maybe if she had one she would have, but alas she let it go. Grumbling to herself, she dropped the matter and moved on to the more pressing one.

“Did you get it yet? Did you kill it?” She begged, voice wavering to a point that Jay began feeling sorry for her. Sure, the whole Y/n and her eight legged kryptonite had been a running joke for many years - and a very funny one at that - he had become increasingly aware that for her there was no humour in the matter. It was a fear, a phobia, something that made her blood run cold and skin sweat. The feeling of being in danger was one like no other, and Jay would never ever wish that upon anyone especially not a woman like Y/n Y/l/n.

“Not yet,” Her sigh was deep, going to say something but Jay continued. “Thought it would be good for you to help me get rid of it. Exposure therapy or whatever.” The suggestion - to Y/n - was absurd. Instantly she had disappeared from the small space between the doorframe and the door itself as she backed up into the bathroom repeating ‘no, no, no, no’ over and over. Jay recognised the panic in her voice and began to think suggesting the idea was a mistake.

“I can’t, I just-” Y/n shivered. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Jay assured shortly, wanting to compel through his words that he had all the faith in the world in her. Sure, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that she always turned to him when one of the bastards was causing havoc around her place. He liked that she saw him as the saviour, as the one person that she could turn to and trust even on a matter such as spider catching. It made his insides glow, a sensation he’d become addicted to, but equally seeing her not almost fall deep into a pit of anxiety at the mere mention of a spider served him much better. “And you will.”

There was silence that followed. Jay didn’t think he could take any more of the guessing, as he pushed the door open further so - for the first time since his arrival - he got a good look at the woman. She was conflicted, that was the first thing he noted. Y/n Y/l/n was all around a confident woman, someone that carried themselves with an aura that made others see them as untouchable. But like anyone else she was still very much human, a being with feelings that for Jay were open to read any time of the day.

Not saying a word, the two exited the bathroom and suddenly the hunt had begun. Y/n grabbed a pillow that Jay had earlier hopped over, and held it protectively in the air, as she glued herself to Jay’s side. Her eyes darted back and forth, back and forth in search of the critter that had to be somewhere in this hell hole.

“Here, spidey spidey.” Jay called with a wide grin, a result of the contact of Y/n’s hand wrapped around his bicep and the humour of the tense environment that had formed. Sending him a quick glare, Y/n’s grip didn’t budge as the two finally approached the last place she had seen their target. Walking around the tipped couch, Jay kicked around a couple pillows and the splayed out throw, but still there was nothing. “Maybe it’s gone.” Jay’s optimism was a rare sight, but it was soon forgotten as Y/n let out a deathly scream.

“Holy fuck!” Releasing Jay, the pillow in her hand smacked down on the floor again and again and again, all whilst a scream of fear vibrated through her mouth. “Not today satan.” Lifting the pillow she clearly wasn’t satisfied by the dead still black dot that was smudged against the pink case of the pillow that she abandoned on the floor the moment she spotted. For soon her foot cast down against it one, two, three times.

With her hair having fallen out of the loose band that had tied it back and into her line of view from the violent act she just commited, the sigh of relief that she released blew the strands around. It took a few more seconds to realise what she had done, before she was suddenly turning towards the frozen in shock man.

Without warning, Y/n jumped into Jay’s arms, a squeal of excitement emitting from her chest as her arms squeezed around him tightly. The man was so confused as to what he had just witnessed that his hands barely moved to support her.

“I did it. Holy fuck, I did it!” Y/n wasn’t sure what made her do it. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the possible carbon dioxide poisoning from being trapped in the bathroom or maybe just the surfacing of years of repressed emotion, but her head was soon leaning forward and pressing a kiss firmly against the lips of Jay Halstead.

If he had been distracted before, he certainly wasn’t now. Jay’s attention was vacuumed up by the feeling of the soft lips that currently caressed his own. Her hand was behind his hair, gently strumming the hairs on the back of his neck with her fingers softly, gently, enticingly. Just as he felt he finally became conscious in his body again, Y/n had dislodged herself from the kiss and was staring at Jay in awe of her own actions.

“Oh- shit.” Awe soon turned to panic, as her mind caught up with her body and she thought over what she had just done. Her eyes blew up with uncertainty, desperately searching Jay’s that seemed to be untelling for once in their friendship. “Shit, Jay I’m so-.” But she didn’t get a time to apologise, before Jay was bringing her back and reuniting their lips and their feelings once more. The second time around the kiss was harder, more passionate as if both of them needed to prove to the other that the first was no mistake.

Pulling back, their foreheads were softly pressed upon the other’s, identical smiles on both their faces.

“Thank god.” Both of their smiles flipped, as the new voice was thrown into the touching moment breaking the thick adoring tension that surrounded them in their own little bubble. Not letting go of the woman that was pressed against his body, Jay turned both of them to look to the now open front door where the male detective’s blond partner now stood. “Could you two not have done this 30 spiders ago?” Shaking her head in amusement, Hailey let herself in and looked around with horror. “The spider really was godzilla, huh?”

#Jay #jay halstead #jayhalstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfiction #Halstead #CPD #chicago #chicago police #Chicago Fire #hailey #haileyupton #hailey upton #oneshot #One Chicago #chicago one #onechicago

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angelatmidnight1 · 2 years

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ok so👉👈 i used to do hip hop a couple of years ago, but while i did like that type of dance, i was also very, very shy, and I'd get nervous and a bit anxious whenever we would practice (it was a bit intimidating to have a lot of eyes on me). I would dance so much better if i was alone because I'd loosen up almost immediately. Oddly enough, I was able to loosen up just as much when we were performing on stage, go figure lol!

Anyway, if you're taking reader prompts, i thought it'd be nice if you wrote something like that, it doesn't have to be related to dance necessarily, it could be related to playing an instrument for example, or singing, some activity that the reader is kind of insecure and shy about, but then some legend (I dont know who exactly, maybe one of the girls?) would catch the reader doing said activity and would reassure them when they get all embarrassed and then would maybe tickle them until they promise to loosen up and smile more? i love your writing, thank you in advance!

Hips Don't Lie

You claim that you’re not a dancer, until Lifeline catches you grooving in the kitchen on a Saturday night. You stiffen up, embarrassed, and it’s up to her to get you moving again.

“Ku deh. Only one squad left.”

Lifeline spoke, pinging the last team in the upper buildings at the Swamps. You turned towards the location and peeked around a large rock. At first, you didn’t see anything. But then…

BANG!

You yelped. Whatever hit you left a big dent in your shields, and you immediately ducked back down. Pathfinder was quick to hand you a shield battery.

“Here you go, friend! That sounded like a Kraber. Let’s recharge your shields so you don’t die.” Pathy said. You nodded and fully patched up your shields…only to have him hand you another one right away. You gave him a questioning look, and he responded with a thumbs up. “Go ahead, have another one! I collected plenty from the friends we killed.”

“Oh. Thanks, Path.” You answered, giving him a small smile. You pocketed the shield battery and gently patted his hand. “Nice of you to watch out for me.”

Pathfinder’s monitor displayed a smiley face. “Of course,” he chirped. “Good friends always look out for each other, just like good parents!”

You heard Lifeline sigh heavily. You glanced at her, then back at Pathfinder. “What—”

Pathy moseyed on over to the medic, tapping the D.O.C. beside her.

“See? This is my son! Lifeline carries him for me, but I always make sure he’s kept safe and ready to help us.” He continued, proudly. He looked down at Ajay and cocked his head to the side. “Do you think I make a good daddy, Lifeline?”

“Yeah yeah, of course yuh do.” Lifeline answered; at this point, she thought it was easier to agree with him then re-hash the truth about D.O.C. “But let’s talk about yuh parentin’ skills later. We need to move to high ground.”

“Leave it to me!” Path lifted his head and scanned the area for a good perch. He pinged the one with the most cover and placed a zipline. Then, he zipped his way up, alternating between holding and letting go to avoid some bullets. “Woohoo! No place to go but up!”

You and Lifeline followed suit. Since Ajay was behind you, you fired some covering fire at the enemy squad to give her an easier time getting up. Ajay moved to thank you, until she saw the barrel of the Kraber pointing at you two and the person behind it: Vantage. She dragged you down onto the floor with her to avoid a hit. The shot narrowly missed.

“Damn, this new girl’s a good shot.” Ajay grunted. She pulled her 30-30 out of its holster and looked at you and Path. She made a ‘stay low’ motion with her hand. “Mind yuh heads, ya hear? We gon’ have to take this fight slow.”

You nodded, taking out your sniper class weapon. Pathy did the same. Then, the three of you took turns trading shots with the enemy squad, careful not to expose yourselves too much. You wanted to engage, but Lifeline was right; the other squad had the advantage, and the ring would decide your next move.

Soon enough, the final ring began closing, and both squads would have to jump down. The ring pushed both squads down within seconds of each other, and the battle was on. It was chaotic; people were knocked, revived, and knocked again. But, channeling that chaos, you laser focused onto Vantage, Ash, and Newcastle, mowing them down with your Spitfire. Then, right before the ring could catch you, you heard…

“We have our Apex Champions!”

You exhaled and put your hands on your knees. All of the lights and cameras turned to your squad. Path wasted no time in celebrating.

“Wow, look at that! We’re the champion squad!” He cheered. He did his Squats emote to flaunt the victory. “Go us!”

Lifeline followed it up with her Fancy Footwork emote. That left you standing in the middle. You faltered, feeling shy all of a sudden. You swore the camera flashes got brighter after every match. And, were there this many people watching last time? You awkwardly smiled and waved, taking a step back behind your team. Pathfinder noticed you first.

“Where’re you going, friend?” He asked, following after you. “You ended the match with the most damage. You should be first in line to dance!”

You chuckled nervously. Lifeline turned to look at you too, and you felt your cheeks flush. “Ah, it’s okay.” You replied with a dismissive wave. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

Ajay stepped forward and affectionately patted your arm. She smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Yuh still did great,” she complimented. “Yuh’ve made a lot of progress.”

That was a big compliment coming from your mentor. You thanked her, returning the smile, and resumed giving the cameras your attention.

But, the truth was, you weren’t honest with your squadmates. You actually loved to dance. But, all of those eyes made you nervous, and you got cold feet. It wasn’t until you were back in the dropship that you were comfortable enough to turn on some music, and let the rhythm move you.

It was a Saturday evening, but the night was young. Still, because it was close to 11pm, you opted to wear your Airpods, in case anyone was sleeping. You picked a playlist that Spotify curated just for you, shimmying throughout the kitchen while you prepared a meal. You have been listening to a lot of throwback songs lately, and this one in particular definitely got you moving. You rolled your hips side to side while you chopped vegetables, grinning.

I never really knew that they could dance like this,

They make someone want to speak Spanish.

You dipped down low to grab a pan, bouncing back up along with the beat of the music. Then, while doing some body rolls, you lined the veggies into neat rows.

¿Cómo se llama, bonito/a?

Mi casa, su casa.

When the chorus hit, and your food was in the oven, you were off to the races. You sang along, albeit loudly, and gathered what you needed to prepare the next part of your meal. While you were cooking, Lifeline strolled into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway.

Although it was late, Ajay hadn’t eaten anything yet. She crashed once she returned to the dropship and got some much needed rest. But now, she was hungry, and figured she could just throw a quick meal in the microwave. The last thing she expected to find was you grooving, especially since you told her you couldn’t dance! Chuckling, she leaned against the door frame, watching you. Then, when it wasn’t clear when you’d turn around and notice her, she strolled over to you. She gently tapped on your shoulder. You flinched and shrieked, whirling around to face the smiling medic.

“Ajay?!” You gasped. You were still speaking loudly, subconsciously trying to speak over the music playing in your ears. Lifeline chuckled again and motioned to your ears, and you took your Airpods out. Your cheeks flushed; how long was she standing there? How much did she see? “I--you scared me! How come you were just standing there?”

“I wasn’t, I just got here.” Lifeline answered. You weren’t sure if that made you feel more or less embarrassed. Ajay continued, “I see yuh got a lil’ rhythm in yuh after all, huh?”

“No!” You interjected, your face growing redder. “I just like the beat! I wasn’t…you know…dancing.”

“Then what’cha call this?” Ajay mirrored the last dance move you did, and you felt your blush crawl up to your ears. You turned away, unsure how to respond. Ajay’s smile dropped and she moved closer to you. She put a hand on your shoulder. “Hey now, I’m sorry. I ain’t tryin’ to embarrass yuh. Just looked like yuh were havin’ a blast.”

You shrugged, not ready to meet her gaze. “I…guess I was,” you answered, quietly. Ajay smiled softly and squeezed your shoulder.

“Then that’s all that matters, right?” Ajay encouraged, squeezing your shoulder again to prompt you to look at her. You hesitantly obliged and nodded. Lifeline wasn’t convinced that you were feeling any better, and she sighed.

“Tell yuh what,” she continued, nodding towards the food you were cooking. “How ‘bout I go get my music and we jam together? After yuh gwann and make me a plate of whatever yuh cookin’, that is. It smells delicious.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, thinking. Dancing was always more fun when more people got involved. Plus, Lifeline was both your mentor and biggest supporter in the Games. Surely she wouldn’t be a harsh judge, right? “Okay,” you nodded, “I can try.”

Lifeline cheered. “Perfect! I could use someone who can keep up with me on the dance floor. Silva’s all over the place.” Lifeline snorted. She exited the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back!”

You nodded and returned to cooking your food. You shifted on your feet, feeling both nervous and excited, while you waited for Ajay to return.

Turns out, it was much harder to dance in Ajay’s presence, no matter how supportive she was. You were stricken with stage fright and the more you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became. After messing up your steps for the fourth time, you let out an exasperated sigh.

“Dammit, I can’t remember the steps now.” You complained. You flopped into a chair and grabbed your fork, stuffing your face with food. Lifeline smirked, tsking softly, and sat down across from you.

“That’s cause yuh thinkin’ about ‘em too much.” she said. She brought her own plate of food in front of her to also eat. Then, once you were both finished, she hopped up first and strode over to you, taking your hands. “C’mon, show me again.”

Sighing again, you allowed her to pull you back onto your feet. She let you go, turning up the music, and you just stood there. Were you supposed to lean to the right, or the left? You couldn’t remember. Ajay’s eyes softened; dancing was supposed to be fun! She didn’t want to see you having a hard time. Then, all of a sudden, a mischievous glint shone in her eyes, and she maneuvered her way behind you.

“Here,” She started, her hands ghosting over your hips. “Lemme help yuh.”

“Help me h-ho-ww⎯” Your breath hitched as she gripped onto the bones, squeezing them. She guided them to the beat of the music. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

“This is how yuh were movin’ before.” she explained. You fidgeted in her hold, fighting back giggles. Lifeline’s smirk broadened, and she held on tighter. “Hang on now, I’m tryin’ to help!”

“Buhuhuhut thahahat tihihihickles!” You whined. You tried to grab her hands, and she avoided you by sticking her hands under both of your arms. You shrieked. “AHAhajahahahahahy!”

Ajay snickered. “What? Maybe it wouldn’t tickle if yuh weren’t so tense, hm?” she teased, scritching her nails along the center of your armpits. You let out a laugh and hugged your arms against your sides.

“Thahahahat dohohohesn’t mahahahke sehehehehense!” You squealed, hugging yourself tighter the more she tickled. When it still didn’t deter her, you squirmed with a renewed vigor, and wiggled yourself free from her hold. Lifeline followed after you.

“Yes it does!” She argued, moving to jab your side. You stepped away to dodge her, so she just poked your other side instead. You squealed and batted at her hand, backpedaling as fast as your feet would take you. The medic chuckled, continuing to pursue you at a leisurely pace. “How’d yuh expect to dance if yuh stiff and got yuh face all twisted up?”

You didn’t have an answer for her. You were still giggling as you, unknowingly, backed into the corner that she aimed to box you in. It didn’t take you long to figure out that you were trapped, and you yelled as the medic lunged forward.

“WAHAHAHAIT!”

Ajay hadn’t even touched you. You held one arm out to keep her at bay, keeping the other one tightly wound around your torso. She arched her brow, giggling along with you. “I haven’t even touched yuh yet.”

You sank down to your knees, panicking as the medic grew even closer. “I’ll loosen up! I promise! Plehehease dohOHOHOHN’T⎯”

Lifeline cut you off, dropping to the ground with you. She seized the arm around your torso and worked to pry it away. Then, with her free hand, she alternated between poking your sides and stomach. “I’m not sure. I’m convinced that yuh’ll just go back to frownin’.”

“Nohohohoho! No! I WOHOHOHOHN’T!” You protested, fighting against her grip. When it seemed like you’d get free again, Ajay focused on poking your stomach some more, drawing out squealing laughs. Your other hand flailed all over the place before it landed on her shoulder. You squeezed and pushed, momentarily stopping her. But it didn’t last; Ajay’s hands found your hips and she repeatedly pinched along the bones. “NAHAHA AJAHAHAHAY! STAHAHAHAP!”

Ajay refused to let up. She continued squeezing, making you flop around. She even had to duck a little bit to avoid getting hit. It took just a few squeezes more for her to take both of your arms and pin them against your chest using one arm. Then, she straddled your waist, still poking into your hips at random. You giggled loudly and bucked.

“Ajahahahahay, plehehehehease!” You begged, yelping when she suddenly pinched your hips. “I’m smihihihihling nohohohohow!”

“Mhm, so yuh are,” Ajay agreed. She wriggled her fingertips across your waist, easily keeping up with your movements as you squirmed. “But I think yuh can do better. I’ve seen yuh laugh harder at Elliott’s jokes…”

The blush returned to your face in full force. “Th-Thahahaht’s diffeheheheherent!” You protested. Ajay scoffed, snaking her hand up your side.

“Is it? Or are yuh sayin’ I’m not as funny?”

Your eyes snapped open and you frantically shook your head. “I’m nahahahaht sahahahahaying thahahaht!” You yelled, feeling her hand stray close to your stomach. You thrashed, fighting the grip she had on your arms. You didn’t remember Ajay being so strong…but, then again, she was a combat medic. Maybe you should’ve expected it.

What you weren’t expecting was Ajay changing course and sticking her hand back under your arm. You squealed and hugged your arms back against your sides, trapping her hand in place. It was getting harder for her to keep your hands pinned, so she pulled them above your head instead. This gave her more leverage, and more room to tickle.

“No no, save it. I see how it is,” she hummed, now wriggling her nails along the length of your armpit. You arched your back, your protests lost in all of your giggling. “And after all I’ve done to help yuh? That’s how you gon’ treat me?”

“NOHohohohohohohohohoho!” You yelled, now full-on laughing. You writhed in her hold, bucking your hips again to try and throw her off. Not only did she stay put, she tightened her grip on your arms and jumped to your other armpit. “AHAHAHA! PLEHEhehehehehehase stahahahahahahap!”

Lifeline ignored you, using her thumb to prod and really get into those ticklish nerves. It was something that worked wonders on Octane, and also did the trick for you. She laughed aloud as you almost threw her off of your waist.

“Oh please, I’m barely doin’ anything!” She snickered. She surprised you again by suddenly worming her fingers into the side of your neck. You sputtered and brought your shoulders up, laughing harder. “I dunno how you n’ Silva can stand it, being so ticklish.”

“I CAHAHAHAHAHN’T!” You yelled, your eyes shutting from the force of your laughter. Lifeline smiled. She continued to tickle along your neck for a few more minutes before she pulled her hand away. Then, she playfully poked your cheeks and nose, which did nothing to calm down your giggles.

“Breathe easy, I ain’t gon’ kill yuh.” Lifeline chuckled. She lifted a hand and lowered it towards your neck, as if she was going to tickle you again, but she stopped inches away. You flinched and instinctively yelped, making the medic laugh again. “See? Yuh gettin’ yuh-self all worked up over nothin’! All I’m tryin’ to do is get yuh to smile.”

“I am smiling! Look, look!” You, keeping your eyes on her hand, smiled the biggest smile you were able to muster. Lifeline hummed again and moved her hand, resting it on your side. There was a lull between you two, and just when you thought she’d let you go, you felt her hand snaking up your shirt.

“Nah, I still think yuh can do better.” She answered, prodding into your tummy with her fingertips. You screamed and jolted, dissolving into loud laughter. It was too difficult for Lifeline to keep your wrists pinned above your head with sheer will alone, so she let them go to focus on tickling. She hooked her thighs around your hips so she didn’t go flying off, continuing to tickle along the spot.

“NONONOHOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHA AHAJAHAHAY STAHAHAHAHA!”

Ajay tickled from one side of your stomach to the other, going back and forth, and she had to really work hard to not fall off of you. She laughed.

“There, that’s the smile I wanted.” She said, easing up on the tickling after a few minutes. By the time she stopped, you were a puddle of laughter, and remained sprawled out on the floor even after she climbed off. At first, Lifeline waited, only to then reach across and playfully nudge your shoulder. “C’mon, get up. I only put yuh through half of what I normally put Silva through.”

You exhaled, pushing yourself up into a seated position. “Half was plenty,” you whined, smoothing your shirt out. Lifeline tsked and gently poked the side of your neck, making you recoil. “Ah! Hey!”

“Uh-uh, don’t start whingin’. I did yuh a favor.”

You huffed and stuck your tongue out at her, squealing when she lunged towards you. Although you didn’t admit it, you did feel a lot better, and it showed in your next fluid dance moves. In fact, you and Lifeline came up with your own synchronized emotes for the next game, which definitely became a crowd favorite. But, after your next game, you had this burning question for the medic.

“Hey, Ajay?” You called while lounging in the common room of the drop ship. Pathfinder was seated beside you, intently watching the show you’d put on TV. His presence made the question that much more pressing.

“Mhmm?” Ajay answered from the corner of the room, scrolling through a few apps on her phone. She peered up at you to see you smiling. She raised a brow; you only smiled like that right before you said something silly. “What’s on yuh mind, (Y/N)?”

There wasn’t really an easy way to phrase the question, so you just spit it out.

“If Path thinks D.O.C. is his son, doesn’t that technically make you the step-mom?”

“...What?”

An exclamation point flashed on Pathfinder’s monitor, and he turned towards Lifeline. “Hey! I didn’t think of it that way,” he answered. Lifeline groaned and stuffed her phone into her pocket.

“He’s not, he ain’t even⎯now look what yuh’ve done, (Y/N).”

You snickered, turning back towards the TV. Path on the other hand, got up to meet Ajay halfway.

“Aw, don’t worry, new mom-line. I’d love to raise D.O.C. together!” He said happily, easily picking her up to hug her. Path had a lot of practices hugging the other Legends, and he remembered to be gentle first and foremost. But, Ajay looked less than enthused, and tapped on his metallic arm.

“Alright, alright, put me down.” Ajay huffed while leering at you. You gave her a small, cheeky smile, and hopped to your feet before Path could set her down.

“Hang on Path, Ajay doesn’t look too happy about this new parenthood thing, does she?”

Pathfinder looked at Lifeline and then back at you. “Um, I don’t think so⎯”

“Path,” Ajay interjected. “Put me down!”

You knew that Lifeline knew where your mind was headed, and you had to act fast. Pathfinder, on the other hand, was stuck between listening to Ajay and trying to figure out why you were smiling so much…

A/N: I hope you liked this! I’m pretty rusty, but I loved this idea and had fun writing it. I may try something similar with other Legends :D. But yeah, I hope you liked this story.

#apex legends #apex lifeline #lifeline apex legends #ajay che #ticklish!reader #lee!reader #ler!lifeline #apex legends tickle fic

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redux-iterum · 1 year

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Lynx’s Struggle Through Survivors - Now a Double Feature

Because I was busy in December with Christmas, I had to move my review to January. So here we are, a review of both The Broken Path and The Endless Lake. Read the previous stuff if you haven’t already. Let’s get down to business.

The Broken Path

I like the idea of the naming ceremony, nothing else to comment on it, save for the fact we seem to have timeskipped… some time in the future. I wasn’t paying much attention to what season it was before the timeskip. It was a little jarring, but necessary, I’d gander.

Unrelated, Whine frickin sucks. I want to punt the little bastard into orbit.

Okay, about Alpha, he’s really really indecisive. I’m really torn on this. For one, the main plot of the book is Fiery recognizing Alpha’s been sucking as leader and challenging him, only to get captured by humans and die. For one, how has anyone in this deluded pack snapped out of their delusion to recognize their leader’s been sucking? For another, how has Alpha allowed his pack to make decisions without his input if he’s trying to keep an iron-tight grip on them? I don’t know, he seems like he’s supposed to be an intimidating leader who’s trapped a bunch of well-meaning individuals in his control, but it seems something isn’t adding up and I can’t quite articulate how it’s wrong.

I think Fiery would fit better in the role of “Leader of the Alpha Sucks Club” who would reach out to Lucky when he sees he’s getting the ire of their leader. Fiery only joined this pack because Moon insists Alpha is a good leader and is mostly here to one day usurp Alpha when the time comes. Mulch would be another member of the club, as much as he’s kind of a turdgoblin. Fiery might suspect Sweet (the sleeper agent) is secretly against Alpha, but he’s not sure and she’s doing her best to avoid Alpha’s suspicion. Lucky would be the first outsider dog to join, followed by Martha shortly after adopting Lick, Grunt, and Wiggle. Bella I think should join later on; she detests Alpha both personally and on principle, but she’s got a strong Cain instinct that deters her from allying with her brother. Moon would join the club after Fiery dies and Alpha practically celebrates that he’s keeping his position.

Terror’s so strange as a minor antagonist. The Fear-Dog is a stupid concept on principle, but the dog pantheon is narrow enough that you can’t easily add a new god into the lineup. The more gods there are in a pantheon, the easier it is to slide a new one into their ranks and have others go, “seems legit”. Regarding Terror’s pack, I’m surprised his entire pack doesn’t just look at each other and go, “Hey, there’s a bunch of us and only one of him, let’s get rid of this thorn in our paws.”

Anyway, our baby girl has a new name, Storm. Time for her to join Firestar and Dovewing in the “our names are glaringly obvious hints for our role in a prophecy” club.

The Endless Lake

I really don’t have a lot to say here. This just caused a lot more confusion than necessary and everything went by so quickly.

I really feel bad for Lucky. He’s trying so hard to help these dogs out and they’re so insistent that tradition is the way to go. Alpha was abusing his position as leader and there was barely anything anyone could do about it within the dogs’ code of honor. His situation with Sweet kind of makes me think of a reverse Fireheart and Sandstorm situation, where Sweet’s barely giving Lucky any benefit of the doubt and you wonder how he still pines for her.

So Alpha died, but not really. Why did he ally himself with the Fierce Dogs? It doesn’t seem at all in his character.

The condition of Sunshine’s pelt really made me wish there was a nice human in that lighthouse who could take her in and shave her pelt off. She’s really hit-or-miss for me, but I’d be satisfied with seeing her end up in the care of a loving human.

I’ve been giving Dullard real-time commentary as I read the book, and a thought that came to me was what if Lick/Storm and Grunt/Fang were pitbulls instead of dobermans? And the entire Fierce Pack were a conglomeration of dogs kept for dogfighting? Their version of dog religion would be incredibly warped, and their poor treatment would be the blame for their behavior. Fang could take the classically antagonistic role of the pitbull archetype while Storm would take the modern sympathetic role.

Before we get to it next book, I gotta wonder. What. Is. The Storm of Dogs. I don’t understand how a brawl between dogs would be the end of the world to the dogs’ eyes? It makes little sense. I can’t figure out how to effectively polish it.

Combining Lucky’s affinity with a crow (which interestingly didn’t appear in this book as far as I can recall) and his visions with the Storm of Dogs, I gotta wonder if he’d be some kind of chosen seer for a god of death (even more interestingly, if it was Earth herself that was his patron god).

So both of these books were slogs, I really want Storm of Dogs to… at least kind of be satisfying. A little. Just a bit. Please no one pull a Scourge and have someone else kill the villains anticlimactically.

#book club #lynx #editor #readmore #survivors #the broken path #the endless lake

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cosmicangel888 · 1 year

Text

Healing Community Crime, At the Core, Wounding of Narcism, 5D EARTH

The truth has already been spoken,

I have been speaking nothing but truth for years, and only now all involved are getting it, like they all thought this was a sick playground game in which the bullies, the takers, the lunch-stealers, the king-playground kingpin thinks they own your world, your body, mind, and after years of mental manipulation, emotional puppeteer and the sick minded ness that the actual rules of Creation;

none have power, or control over any, none own any

none have any say over any other - all are liberated and all are sovereign

harmful and psychological damaging affects, long-term and not only short term can be extensive and full range within a multi-dimensional perspectives; one thinking, pressing, forcing their way be it vibrationally and spiritually, mind-scraping, cult-like activity by stalking, peeping, peering, copying, and harassing to a point in which the victim is forced to leave town, remove themselves, into self harm, and such insecurity for the intent from grandiose narcism, narcistic warrior leader is to do all possible to bring their victim down, for a win, for the proof they are in power, and contributes to much socio-pathy

youtube

~ most are higher intelligence and without proper direction, intention, nourishment of their energy field, psychic gifts, they turn to corrupt and underground activities due to the lack of stimulation in 'right conformed' social offerings

~ it is far more exciting to work out how to get around systems, beat the systems, beat others by them in the right, for it is a greater high and power for them to know they 'beat it' and then turning into violent or fight, flight when the game is not engaged, not being returned; energetically, or resources, or with emotional attention

For those of such, 'not my fault' disorders, have such deep wounds in which they had been abused, captured, their safety of their body, home was taken, stripped and no accountability was offered and no 'making right' on any end of the parent, home, environment-social and therefore the child never felt inner-outer justice or balance.

The imbalances of mental illness, sick underground community cult-like groupings that serve the inner wounding on one hand, but disrupt and destroy the community and thus; we return to the wound and the core of the wound for all multi-purpose and multi-dimensional healing of any, all crime, corruption, illness and disease of such mentally derived inner child wounding coupled with akashic gifts, skills, talents - misunderstanding of energy, the hierarchies of the heavens, and the universal laws that govern all laws; ©

Narcism can be healed; and requires a multi-dimensional approach and only when the person has come to a true 'pure of heart facing their actions, reflection of pain, suffering caused to others' - they live in a powerful projected state of being; and until it is embodied within, literally facing the destruction, or pain, through the activation of the heart only then can healing and reconstruction can begin; charka's, fields, and entity detachment, cleansing, detox will all be required in such healing programs;

Community service for the repair of damage done and rebuilding belonging in the community by creating systems of change, integration of the wounding done; their intelligence is far greater and why so many get bored into the temptation of the underground; it is immediate payoff - however it does immeasurable damage to the soul, those in the circle, community, and those they choose to target;

The sick mind-games, emotional games that heighten the amusement of narcists; the only way to get out is to not engage and not play;

Mind-scraping is a technique used by the leaders, and how they call in cult prey, recruit such, and prey on those in their own family to slowly manipulate and coheres false stories and narratives for their own 'winning' gaining of energy, sway of attention, voting power within the group, and to continue the veil within the community;

Why they can find it so easy to, with other community buy-in, help within the systems to commit a rich threading of crime in many facets of the social make-up.

youtube

They live a life in denial, deceit, self deceit to ride just under the radar and while continuing a semi-normal social role in the community, job, title, and use such to their advantage of their secret life and secret groups, to fulfill their innate need to control, to manage, what is not manageable - the outer perfection projection of what is not being attended to within; the ego becomes grandiose especially and even more dangerous if being combined with magic, occult abuse, crimes, and manipulation ~ such is the exact experience I left from.

Years of diving deep within the psychology, the wounding, the seer and conduit, downloads that spirit offers for me to heal; for there are no counsellors of 3D that have no clue about akashic readers, or timeline awareness, and how this directly relates to community flow, cycles of crime and corruption and linking to historical occurrences;

youtube

#calgarycrime #corruption #healingcrime #healingnarcism #healinghumanity #healingcorruption #healingourchildren #healingearth #newsystemsforhumanity #epidemiology

Crime, HARM, VIOLENCE, CORRUPTION IS NOT NECESSARY - ALL CAN BE HEALED; ALL CAN BE HEALED; IT BEGINS WITHIN ALWAYS,

#ASCENSION #ASCENSIONTOOLS #EARTHANGELS #HEALINGHUMANITY #ASCENSIONBOOKS #JOANNASBOOKS #GOD #SOURCECREATOR #UNIVERSALONENESS

#GOD IS NOT RELIGION - ALL ARE DIVINE, ALL ARE SOURCE, UNDERSTAND ENERGY, UNDERSTAND UNIVERSAL BELONGING, SELF-ACTUALIZATION, AND HOW WE TRANSCEND HARMFUL KARMIC SOCIAL CYCLES; EVOLUTION IS EVERYTHING

Blessings and light,

Joanna

[email protected]

#Youtube

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averycanadianfilm · 1 year

Text

Telepathy

From the second edition (1989): telepathy

Psychics

.(tɪ-, tɛˈlɛpəθɪ, ˈtɛlɪpæθɪ) [f. tele- + Gr. -πάθεια feeling, perception: see -pathy.]

‘The communication of impressions of any kind from one mind to another, independently of the recognised channels of sense’ (Myers Human Personality, Gloss.).

1882

Myers in

Proc. Soc. Psychical Research

I. ii. 147 We venture to introduce the words

Telæsthesia

and

Telepathy

to cover all cases of impression received at a distance without the normal operation of the recognised sense organs.

1888

Athenæum

18 Aug. 213/3 In‥after-dinner experiments‥telepathy, thought-reading, and hypnotism are trifled with as amusements.

1894

H. Drummond

Ascent Man

234 Telepathy is theoretically the next stage in the Evolution of Language.

So telepath (ˈtɛlɪpæθ) n., teˈlepathist, an adept in, subject of, or believer in telepathy; ˈtelepath v., (a) trans. to convey or transmit by means of telepathy; (b) intr. to practise telepathy; telepaˈthetic (rare), teleˈpathic adjs., pertaining to, of the nature of, or effected by telepathy; teleˈpathically adv., in a telepathic manner, by means of telepathy; telepathize (ˈtɛlɪpəθaɪz, tɪˈlɛpəθaɪz) v., (a) trans. to communicate with or affect (a person) by telepathy; (b) intr. to practise telepathy; (c) trans., to discern by means of telepathy. rare.

1907

Westm. Gaz.

9 Feb. 3/2 There is a pleasant mystery about the origin of the 9-in. shell which startled Selsey the other day.‥ It looks as though the *telepaths would have to be called in to account for its origin.

1886

Sat. Rev.

4 Dec. 751/1 Whether spooks are *telepathed about‥by promiscuous persons, or whether the Thibetan Adepts go spooking astrally through the world.

1891

Review of Rev.

15 Oct. 347/2 As soon as a man begins to speculate as to how he telepaths, he loses the power of telepathing.

1895

Edin. Rev.

Jan. 93 It may be that these communications have really been ‘telepathed’ from some living mind.

1892

Sat. Rev.

6 Aug. 157/1 Was there, then, some ‘communication’ of a ‘*telepathetic’ sort?

1949

Koestler

Insight & Outlook

ix. 119 The functional interactions of hypnotic and telepathetic rapports.

1884

Gurney & Myers in

19th Century

May 800 We hope to show that the lowest *telepathic manifestations may be used to explain and corroborate the highest.

1903

Myers

Human Personality

II. p. xv, Telepathic intercourse, if carried far enough, corresponds to possession or to ecstasy.

1884

—— in

Proc. Soc. Psychical Research

vii. 219 Drawing a picture which he feels to be *telepathically presented to his mind's eye.

1886

Gurney, etc.

Phantasms of Living

I. 111 His aspect‥is telepathically perceived.

1894

Westm. Gaz.

12 Sept. 3/3 Knowing myself now to be a *telepathist,‥I look with regret to the many opportunities I have missed.

1900

Pall Mall G.

31 Oct. 3 Mr. Andrew Lang discourses‥of three female professors of telepathy, concluding that Joan of Arc was a true telepathist.

1895

Funk's Stand. Dict.

1919

E. H. Jones

Road to En-dor

xi. 115 He had put me on parole‥not to telepathize with the good folk of Yozgad.

1941

Mind

L. 315 But this just is telepathy except that you have made the provision that it shall be done by having the same sensation as the person one telepathises.

1954

‘J. Christopher’

22nd Cent.

145 Did they telepathize our coming and retreat to some more civilized solar system?

1963

Jrnl. Soc. for Psychical Res.

XLII. 33, I have examined a subject telepathized in this way and questioned him.

1980

R. L. C. Fitz Gibbon

Rat Report

ii. 38 If the rat had telepathized once, then perhaps it would again.

#Telepathy #Oxford University #Oxford University Dictionary #Mind #Mind Matter #Quantum

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the-path-to-redemption · 8 months

Text

All jokes aside, I actually really liked that the weapons in RWBY can also be guns. It's creative, it's character building when used right, and I really enjoyed looking at how they would transform back and forth between forms during combat for some really fun action sequences.

I understand why they aren't that anymore; god fucking forbids RT pays the creatives enough for them to actually make up some more weapons-that-are-also-guns and use them in fun ways instead of just "swords again", or "just guns", or "really enigmatic thing on Vine's back that we never saw used", or "dog joke".

I wanted to see Clover's fishing rod turn into a semi-auto tbh. The...the chamber and shit is right there...on the reel seat...

I'm not even gonna talk about Robyn's. Nah.

#pathi's personal thoughts #rwde #rwby critical #anti rooster teeth #rip to the creative ideas #you could've been a hehe reference or even a love letter to anime #had the writers not been so fucking stupid

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kenjiro-kun · 1 year

Text

A New Target: Chapter One (Part 1)

Apex Legends

‼️ Fem Reader ‼️

Words: 989

---

Bloodhound sat with their axe laid on the table. It was told that the woman from before was a newly added legend, information about her was kept a secret for entertainment, and that almost ended her life. If it weren’t for Bloodhound and Anita being as great as they were, the little trick would’ve been only painful and in vain.

Bloodhound huffed, the mask muffling it to a silent growl. “Hey’o Houndy.” They found a great. . . friend of theirs causally enter their room with no permission. “What’s on ya mind?”

“Nothing to be concerned about.” They replied, hopefully it would end the conversation they didn’t want to indulge in.

“Sure, nothing, huh?” Fuse made himself at home, not like it wasn’t already a common occurrence for his presence. Bloodhound was used to it, sometimes they waited for it. “You may have been able to fool others, but me? I see all.”

“Is that so?” Bloodhound chuckled quietly. “What do you see?”

Fuse heard the small sound from them, but although his chest swelled, it wasn’t time to get overly excited about it. He took a seat near Bloodhound, resting his chin on his cupped hands on the neck of the chair. “It was quite a surprise to see someone fall from the sky--well not that much, but certainly during a game? I don’t know what to think, worse enough to deal with Maggie, but you saw that lady fall--know her?”

Bloodhound shook their head. “She is unfamiliar.”

Fuse groaned. “Figures.”

“Why are you interested in this woman?”

“I’m not the only one who is curious, this whole ship is! And now. . . a new planet location? I’m all in for the ride; I’d like to get a letter at least, heh.”

“She showed herself capable of holding her own.” Bloodhound traced their finger along their axe. “She won the game for us.”

“Yeah, she did! Made a lot of people angry too, but I guess they didn’t care.” Fuse laughed. “I wonder where she is, Pathy got her bad didn’t she? Sucks, I’d like to bloody meet her the minute she’s healed.”

“I know where she is.” Bloodhound said.

Fuse smiled. “Do ya now?”

“Ye--” The ship shook. “Another time then.” They took their axe, and hooked it to their waist. “We have some exploring to do, unless you wish to stay here.”

“I’m gonna get some shut eye.” Fuse stretched. “That battle made me sore.”

Bloodhound smirked. “As you wish.”

***

She didn’t know where she was, nor did she care enough to dwell on the thought. She could figure she was in a medical center by the atmosphere alone. She sat up, wincing, the faint throbbing sensation along her torso reminded her of the events prior to her injuries. She forced herself to the door, pushing it open and walking through. Everything was too true to be told, she wasn't gifted with the ability to watch the games, but stories from those that did, it was horrifying in person.

She stared deep through the window, past her reflection was familiar lands. Her home was being used as an arena, well a small portion. She continued her strain. She didn’t know her purpose here, was she another figure for entertainment? She didn’t want anything, the games gave her no reason, not like the others that fought day and night.

“You.” She turned her head to meet a familiar face. “Do you have a death wish?” Before the woman could speak, Anita took the back of her pure white hospital gown. “Ajay took her time to aid you, it’s best to not ruin that.”

“I don’t belong here!” The woman tried to pry Anita’s grip, but she was too strong and stubborn to let go.

“I don’t care where you belong, you want those wounds to open up? Keep walking.” Anita jerked the woman, walking past her with the same emotionless expression.

“Why are you people here?” Anita stopped. “This is my home.”

“And you are representing your home, by choice, or not.” She didn’t bother to stay any longer. She took steps back, meeting with the window again, she stood and watched.

***

Bloodhound wandered around. The cold and blinding snow gave them deja vu. Following their instincts, Bloodhound found nothing peculiar about the new planet, certainly nothing beneficial in terms of protection in a fight. Artur flew above, closely watching Bloodhound and the surroundings.

“Out and about, too, mm?” Loba stood on top of a snow mound, her body clothed to protect herself from the unwelcomed cold.

“It is wise to explore.” Bloodhound spoke.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Loba slid down the mound, her heels leaving two parallel lines. “Or did you want to escape such a confined space?”

“Haven’t put thought into it.” Bloodhound felt Artur land on their shoulder. “Just. . . wandering.”

“Is that so. . . That woman,” Bloodhound was almost done hearing about her. “You’ve probably already been bombarded with questions, Anita was with you, mmm, maybe in my dreams. Take care.”

Bloodhound felt a nagging sense at their neck, Artur along with them turned back to the ship to see the woman looking down at them with a sorrowful expression. Were they shamed, or afraid? Perhaps they were both. Loba was long gone now, and now it was their turn to return to the ship. With one step, they went forth, but in an instance their foot sept deeper than normal into the snow. They kneel down, digging to uncover a crack in the ground that led to a small fire at the bottom. They went back to recall the woman at the window, but she was gone from where she stood.

“Take note of this Artur.” They spoke. “I don’t think this is just a new location to fight, perhaps a big evil is approaching.”

They made their way back to the ship, a trail behind them that was soon covered up by a winter storm.

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outlustings · 2 years

Note

Can I get a male reader x Jeremy Blaire piece please? Like maybe he hires the male reader as a PA or secretary and starts get the 😜 mhmmmm feels. I don’t mind it’s nsfw or not.

(my non native speaker ass staring at the word PA for a solid 10 seconds being like: "pa....? paah?" also someone should probably sue blaire he's wildin with his secretaries whenever i write him - making out below the cut and also TOUCHING oh my GOD filthy!!)

Being Jeremy Blaire's personal assistant was tough. Not only did you have to play along with the nearly tyrannical way he ran the Mount Massive compound, but you also had to be very accomodating of whatever he desired. Mr. Blaire was very specific about his wants. Maybe it was out of spite, you thought as you thrummed your fingers on the espresso machine of the executives' breakroom that probably costed the company more than your monthly salary. Blinking lights flashed before your eyes as the machine churned out another double espresso. Another fancy drink, as if you had nothing else to do, what with running around the building collecting papers and sending emails like the world was ending.

You sighed, lifting the tiny cup of tar black liquid onto a saucer which rested on a small steel tray. Mr. Blaire was so busy these days. Something was going on in the basement again, something related to a great big project, and you had to run in circles with a blind fold on as no one in the whole building was really telling you what was going on. Ever. You were just an errand boy to these people. An errand boy with a name tag and the slowest laptop in the damn county. I should ask Park to check it out, you thought as you picked up the tray and marched to the door, pushing it open with your knee and began your lengthy exodus to Mr. Blaire's office.

After a few flights of stairs you reached the heavy wooden door, lifted the tray up to balance it on your forearm and knocked sharply with your free hand, leaning against the doorframe.

"Come in," you heard him call out.

Pushing the door open, you slipped in, the small pink cup rattling against its saucer.

Jeremy Blaire was sitting behind his desk, his legs crossed and his chin resting on his hand as he scrolled mindlessly through, no doubt, another research report. His face was taut, stern - yet he looked so bored, tired even. A purplish hue had settled below his blue eyes.

"Here's your coffee," you smiled, walking up to the desk and he raised his eyes from the monitor and smiled slightly, his face relaxing as he saw you. Weird, you thought, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his smile.

"Thank Christ," Jeremy sighed, straightening his back and rubbing the back of his neck, "I might have died from fatigue without my fourth espresso."

"Fifth," you corrected, setting the drink down.

"What, really?" his eyes widened before a grin settled on his face as he reached for the coffee, "I should quit, huh?"

You shrugged.

"Makes my work days less boring."

"What, my addiction?" he joked, turning his attention to the computer while raising the cup to his lips, taking a sip. His eyes skimmed over a few words and he seemed to frown for a fraction of a second before sighing and taking another, longer gulp of his coffee, "You're an enabler," he smirked at you.

"Isn't that part of my job description?" you chuckled, shoving your hands in your pockets. Jeremy only hummed in response.

"Anything else, sir?" you enquired.

"Yeah, come take a loot at this," he gestured towards his monitor, "I need some help."

You walked around the desk and bent down, eyeing the monitor. Bright, blurry light and that exceptionally boring font that the scientists of the facility all used - you'd seen enough emails from them to have noticed such a pattern. Random, thirteen-syllable words flashed before you. Lots of numbers. Neuro-something-pathy, maybe.

"What am I looking at?" you bent further down, closer to the monitor, leaning over Jeremy's crossed legs.

"They want more money, and they want it from international sources," Jeremy sipped his coffee, his brows knitted together.

"What, for tax reasons?" you turned your head to him.

Jeremy shrugged, a slight smirk tugging at his full lips.

"Probably," he sighed, "Lord knows what they'll do with it. This is all Greek to me."

"Yeah," you conceded, turning to the monitor, adjusting your legs slightly as your back was starting to strain.

Your leg brushed against his thigh.

"Oops," your eyes shot down and you felt yourself blush a little bit, "Sorry. Personal space."

You felt Jeremy's body stiffen, as if he was holding his breath. Then, after a silent, awkward moment, he lowered his cup and saucer onto his desk, quite forcefully. It made a sharp clink. Uh oh. You cringed internally, rushing to read the email again. Words seemed to make no sense, and Jeremy sat there, quietly. You could practically hear the little tick-tock of his Rolex, counting down your doom.

But you remained still, glued to the screen, your leg brushing against his again. This time, you said nothing. It felt good to be so close to him. You tried your hardest to focus on the text in front of you as you shifted your weight onto your other leg.

"So, what's this all-..."

You felt a tug somewhere near your hips and jumped, shooting your eyes to the waistband of your slacks and saw that Jeremy had hooked one of his fingers into your belt loop and was pulling at it gently but firmly enough to draw your hips into the bulk of his shoulder.

"Uh, sir?" your mouth felt very dry as you watched him smirk at you from his chair as he hooked his thumb inside the same belt loop and splayed his open hand on the harsh curve of your narrow hip.

"What?" he cocked one eyebrow at you and gave another insistent, almost yearning tug at you, and this time, you almost lost your balance, your thigh bumping into his arm.

Your head was spinning.

"What do you mean 'what'? Don't -..." you trailed off, your eyes stuck on his as he continue smiling mischievously, "Why?" you managed to get out, and swallowed thickly, feeling as if the all of the air in the room was gone and you were going to suffocate just looking deep into his icy blue eyes, those really dreamy eyes... Fuck.

Without moving his hand from where it now rested on your hip, rubbing soothing circles on the fabric, he rose from his chair. Slowly. Sensually, you realised. He was taller than you, his slim body nearly pressed against you as you craned your neck slightly upwards, looking up at your boss' face. This wasn't happening.

"Why?" Jeremy grinned, his white teeth glinting in the dim light as he eyed you up and down, then down again, "Can't take my eyes off of you, that's why."

That suave tone had a little crack in it. The softness in his eyes betrayed him. You felt him press closer to you, close enough that you could nearly taste the scotch on his lips and the musk of his cologne. His hand steadied itself on your hip, and moved to the small of your back, still pressing and rubbing tiny, burning circles on your skin.

"Just be still," his voice was low, silent. Then a more chipper tone again, mocking, dripping with mirth. He was toying with you.

"I could, of course, keep my hands to myself," Jeremy leaned close to your ear, his jaw brushig against yours and you shivered, feeling something shift inside your stomach as his hot breath ghosted over your ear, "But you don't want that, do you?"

You leaned back, your butt hitting the edge of his desk as you tried to look at him. There was something in his eyes again. Cold, steely blue had turned warmer. Hungrier.

"Yes, sir," you muttered, head empty, your eyes moving to his lips. You only now noticed how beautiful his cupid's bow was. His lips were so... so... close.

"What was that?" Jeremy grinned, "A little louder, please? I dare you."

You felt his other hand settle on your hip as he shuffled towards you, pressing his knee against your legs, trying to nudge them open. Your body felt oddly light and heavy at the same time, you realized, as you felt his hands skim over your ribs through your button-up. Soothing, gentle.

"No, sir," you felt him press against you, the very tips of your noses brushing against each other, "Don't keep your hands to yourself. I can help," you decided to test the waters, offering a smirk of your own, yet your words came out far more desperate than you'd liked. Everything was moving so fast.

"Damn right you can," Jeremy breathed out and leaned into you and caught your lips with his own, hungry and scorching hot. You gripped his collar, holding on for dear life.

You felt his slight stubble scrape against your skin and smiled into his mouth, as he caotured your lips in another searing kiss, your heads moving awkwardly, teeth clicking together as he devoured you, or what was left of you, after every single one of your thoughts was replaced with an animalistic need for his scent, his hands, his flesh against yours.

His hands roamed your body as you leaned against his desk and kissed him, feeling his tongue creep to your mouth and you couldn't help but moan at the lewd sensation of being so roughly kissed and taken by your own boss, by the notorious Mr. Blaire himself, who was indeed human underneath his steely exterior. His hands moved down to fondle your ass. You gasped into his parted lips and he grunted in response. He was so needy. So desperate. It was almost funny, seeing him like this, all but grinding against your thigh.

"Fuck," he grunted, moving away from your lips for a moment, gripping your chin and wiping stray saliva off with the calloused bad of his thumb, "The things you do to me."

"I'm trying my best, sir," you exhaled, a little laugh bubbling out from your chest as your hands roamed from his upper back to his shoulders.

His gaze was alnost adoring as he pecked you on the lips, black hair sticking slightly to his forehead. Then another, needier kiss, this time with tongue. It was a short and teasing one.

"God, don't think I can -..." he cleared his throat, "I don't think I can just go on with my work day after that. Jesus."

He pulled a few inches further away from you, still gripping your chin in an affectionate manner. His eyes were softer again, yet you frowned.

"Am I that bad?" you blurted out, clamping your fingers around his collar, pleading silently for more.

"You're a pretty good kisser, (Y/N)," he chuckled, straightening his back, sliding his hands to your front where he dug his thumbs inside the waistband of your trousers, pulling them slightly, nudging your lower bidy towards his.

"Pretty good?" you feigned shock, "Let me show you good," you licked your lips and kissed him slowly, softly, then moved down to his jawline where you peppered pulsing, tense flesh with small kisses and moved onto his neck, where you could see and feel his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed thickly. His skin tasted salty, slightly bitter, yet delicious when your teeth grazed against where his pulse thrummed underneath pale skin.

"Ah, careful, I don't wear turtlenecks."

"Then show my work off," you murmured, pressing your lips to his neck, tasting him with your tongue as he shuddered underneath your touch, your hands sliding up and down his chest, "Show off the things I do for you - to you."

You emphasized your point with an open-mouthed, wet kiss on his sensitive skin and Jeremy moaned underneath your lips. You might have to work overtime tonight.

#outlast #outlast: whistleblower #outlast x reader #jeremy blaire #jeremy blaire x reader #male reader #outlast fanfiction

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fandomsareforlife · 2 years

Text

B Is For Breakdowns

Note: So, it's April Fools Day, which means that it's officially been over a month since I posted anything. Here's a fanfic for y'all. Feel free to back out if needed.

Trigger Warnings: Panic Attacks, Sensory Overload, Toxic Family

Turner usually didn't have a huge problem with loud noises. He had trouble with really loud stuff, like fireworks, but most people didn't like the loudness of them. They were normally troublesome noises.

There were some noises Griffin should be able to tolerate. His 16th birthday party was one.

It wasn't like the party was humongous. It was only half of the invitees. about 200 people were present. There were fewer people than Zevon's birthday party, for there were over 300 people. There wasn't even that much noise. It was only slightly louder than his science class.

With all of these facts in mind, it was a baffling situation indeed. Turner should be able to handle the noise level.

However, Turner didn't think he was handling the noise very well. Unless ‘handling’ suddenly included 'being on the edge of sensory overload' in its definition.

It wasn't like this hadn't happened before. Noise bothering Turner was very common when he was younger. He was 16 now, though. And this had never bothered him before at his own party.

The only thing Turner could think was different was how much he was talking to people. Usually, his parents did all of the talking and greeting. This year was the first he had been expected to greet the numerous guests.

Turner almost groaned when he saw yet another group of guests he hadn't greeted yet. He had kept a running tally of who he hadn't greeted, and these were just some more to add to the list.

However, when Griffin walked to the group, he was pleasantly surprised that they were some of his actual friends. Granted, they were his parents' friends' kids, but they were all surprisingly close.

Walking up to them, Griffin felt a genuine smile slid onto his face. The group consisted of Neuro. Tox, and Pale. Unfortunately, no Chamille or Ash, but beggars couldn't be choosers. It made sense that they weren't invited, for they weren't considered proper company for a Turner.

"Griffin," Neuro greeted. He was, as per usual, the best dressed. He was wearing a black suit, with a gray shirt and nice shoes . That wasn't to say the others weren't dressed amazingly, but Neuro was the best dressed. That was like a fact. "Happy birthday. Lovely party I must say." With how he said it, it was clear Neuro couldn't hate the party anymore that he did. The thought made Griffin chuckle, but Turner knew he shouldn't.

"Hug?" Tox asked as she stepped towards Turner. It was only a split second before Turner allowed her to hug him. This wasn't something that Griffin had to say no to. She was a girl, and she was probably a good person for him to get into a relationship with. It's not like he was expected to find a nice girl anytime soon or something.

"Thanks for coming, guys," Turner thanked the trio. He was genuinely grateful that they decided to come to his party. It wasn't like they had a lot of choice in coming, but they at least pretended to enjoy a stuffy party. "If you guys want a good seat, you better get them now. They're filling up pretty quickly." Turner gave a grin as he planned his strategic escape. Whether from the conversation or the party had yet to be determined.

Unfortunately, Neuro tried to stop him, for he grabbed his arm. "No, you are not escaping your own party. If you do, I'm coming after you." Damn mind readers. Although it was sweet that he cared enough to chase after me...

Turner shook his head, and he tried to cool his face. Curse his ability to get embarrassed so easily. Great for getting girls, but it wasn't so great when he needed to actually do stuff like get away Neuro Pathis.

Griffin finally managed to wrestle his way out of Neuro's grasp and stalked towards another group of guests. It was clear that conversation wasn't getting him anywhere, so he might as well go somewhere his presence was just politely acknowledged and not poked apart.

Of course, this technique didn't last for a long time. Turner was already feeling bad when he saw the others, and when he left them his state didn't improve at all. If anything, it worsened.

It was fine. Turner just had to muscle the next hour or so before he could breakdown. He got this.

Unfortunately, Turner didn't actually get it. By the twenty minute mark, Turner could feel his breathing spike up at erratic times. His palms were so sweaty that the guests were calling him out.

This was somehow shaping up to be the worst birthday party ever. At least that was how Turner was feeling like it was. It would seem overdramatic, but Turner couldn't bring himself to care about that at all anymore. He just wanted to sleep.

He decided to take a break outside of the hall. It wouldn't be for long, but he needed time to just be.

"You seem like you want to die," a low voice came from behind Turner. Turner turned around to see Neuro giving him a raised eyebrow. His hair had gotten more than a bit tousled, but his attire still was flawless. It was just like Neuro always was. It was this fact which made Turner a bit more calm. No matter what, Neuro always looked so...

I did not just think my best friend was cute. I did not. I am just stressed.

Turner quickly gathered his wits back and gave Neuro a smile. "I always want to die. After all, wanting to die just makes me more prepared for when my time ends." Griffin really thought it was a good joke, but Neuro's face made it clear it wasn't. Griffin was focused on what to do next, so it made sense he didn't see Neuro coming closer to him. In fact, he only noticed Neuro when arms wrapped around him.

"You shouldn't want to die," Neuro mumbled into his hair, and Griffin wanted to cry. Rarely did people tell him to not want to die, and even rarer did they initiate contact. No, they were more than content to just see his dumb, goofy persona. Someone seeing him as him was uplifting.

"Why are you crying?" asked Neuro. Turner hadn't even realized he started crying, but there was moisture on his cheeks and aches all over him. Crying always hurts. "I'm not mad."

Turner leaned into Neuro's soft touch, and he wished he wasn't ruining Neuro's suit with his tears. However, he needed to cry, and Neuro wasn't stopping him. It was just too much. The sounds, the people, the lights. He was crumbling, and he wanted to soak up as much comfort as he could from it. If this all goes to hell, he would at least have the memories for a bad day.

Eventually, Griffin found the strength to pull away from the warmth. He could be strong, and he needed to show it. Neuro would probably think he was a crybaby, but Turner could salvage this situation. He could go to the bathroom, wash up, and he could fake being well.

"Are you better?" Neuro softly asked, and he dragged his hand over Turner's cheeks. The tears were rapidly drying, but Neuro's touch was grounding. It was probably the most tender thing someone had done for Griffin in a long, long, time.

Griffin forced a nod, and the words, "I'm fine." He felt shame building up in him. The implications of what had just happened crashed onto Turner. He had to do damage control, otherwise this whole situation could be even more disastrous than ever.

"You're not." Those two words weren't spoken accusingly, but Turner still shrank away from them. They threatened to destroy something that Turner wasn't sure was really there.

"I may not be, but I have to go back to my birthday party. Thanks, man." Turner tried to brush it off. It hurt, but it would be for the best. His family couldn't figure out what happened. They couldn't. He turned around, and he was fully intent on going to his party.

"Griffin. Wait."

Griffin felt himself pause, and he almost turned around. However, he forced himself to keep moving. He still gave a response, for he was a good person.

"It's not personal, Pathis. I just have to go." Turner had to drill into Neuro's head that he was okay. If he was still insisting on checking up on Turner, or had someone else try to, then a lot of things would be wrong. Including his already tenuous relationship with his family.

Quickly entering a bathroom. Turner realized two things. One, the makeup he had applied had become runny with tears. Two, his hair looked hideous. Thankfully, there was everything he needed to try and remedy this situation, but he needed to avoid any sort of pictures.

When Turner walked into the hall again, he was immediately reminded why he left. Just being in the hall was overwhelming, and this did not include talking to anyone.

Turner forced his thoughts to quiet down, and a fake smile on his face.

He had this. And if he had to sacrifice his friendships to keep the damage at a minimum, then that was the way the cookie crumbles. After all, it was just like his father said.

Sacrifices must be made.

#Not beta read #ninjago #ninjago ash #ninjago turner #griffin turner #ninjago neuro #this has 1 mention of an OC but he's not important to the plot #he's griffin big bro #funny story #but #formatting is annoying #i'll expand on this later #panic attack #sensory overload #dysfunctional parents #ask to tag

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perkwunos · 3 years

Text

If selfhood is achieved through self-control and if self-control at its higher levels consists in diagramming possible actions, formulating principles, reasoning, and forming signs of oneself, then selves have no existence apart from semeiotic processes of certain kinds. That is also how Colapietro understands Peirce’s theory. He proceeds to argue that the self thus understood is nevertheless an agent and a subject of thought and experience (1989, chs. 4 and 5). How is that possible? The air of paradox is removed, I think, by recognizing that the flesh and blood body remains at the bottom of it all. Selfhood or personality is an aspect of the organization of that body��s behavior. The organization in which selfhood consists is irreducible to the laws governing the operations of the body’s parts. But it is still the body that acts and suffers. Colapietro (p. 95) brings together a number of passages supporting this gloss, for example, ones from 1868 that refer to ‘a real effective force behind consciousness’ or ‘the physiological force behind consciousness’ (W2:226, 226n3).

The selfhood of selves, that makes animate bodies into persons, is abstract. It resides in signs that can be shared among individuals, and most of all in legisigns. A legisign can be replicated repeatedly and by different individuals. Feeling, too, is inherently sharable; though it is not abstract, it has another form of generality … Peirce appears to have thought of this doctrine as one whose truth is pervasively evident in everyday experience but distorted or obscured by philosophers’ theories. Thus he delighted in outr´e expressions of it, as if challenging the reader to ‘Deny this if you can!’: ‘the mind is a sign developing according to the laws of inference’; ‘What distinguishes a man from a word? There is a distinction, doubtless. The material qualities . . .’; ‘consciousness, being a mere sensation, is only part of the material quality of the man-sign’; ‘the word or sign that a man uses is the man himself’ (1868: W2:240–1). But even one’s ‘material quality’ is not absolutely individuating: ‘My metaphysical friend who asks whether we can enter into one another’s feelings . . . might just as well ask me whether I am sure that red looked to me yesterday as it does today’ (1903: 1.314). ‘Esprit de corps, national sentiment, sym-pathy [sic] are no mere metaphors’ (1892: 6.271). Peirce likened the individual self to a society and, conversely, a society to a person: ‘a person is not absolutely an individual. His thoughts are what he is “saying to himself,” that is, is saying to that other self that is just coming into life in the flow of time’; but, by the same token, ‘the man’s circle of society. . . is a sort of loosely compacted person’ (1905: 5.421). He called the philosophical theory of egoism, ‘the metaphysics of wickedness’: ‘your neighbors are, in a measure, yourself. . . . the selfhood you like to attribute to yourself is, for the most part, the vulgarist delusion of vanity’ (c. 1892: 7.571).

… The importance of Colapietro’s 1989 book, which is about Peirce’s semeiotic theory of the self, is to have shown how anti-egoism may be reconciled to ideas of personal autonomy and of the ‘inwardness’ of experience. The key is Peirce’s account of self-control as depending, in its higher grades, on feeling and, especially, on experiments carried out in the imagination. The feelings are those in which images and fancies and unspoken discourse consists; they are signs. Colapietro writes, ‘This capacity to withdraw from the public world is, at bottom, the capacity to refrain from outward action. . . . [I]nward reflection is the indispensable instrument of human rationality . . . voluntary inhibition is the chief characteristic of human beings’ (p. 115). He quotes Peirce’s 1907 remark (from the MS318 of which we have made so much) that ‘Every sane person lives in a double world, the outer and the inner world, the world of percepts and the world of fancies’ (5.487). Later in that passage, Peirce wrote that ‘fancied iterations’ in the inner world ‘produce habits’. Inwardness is a semeiotic phenomenon.

T.L. Short, Peirce’s Theory of Signs

#t.l. short #c.s. peirce #vincent colapietro

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shigsapologist · 3 years

Text

The empathy of Tanjirou Kamado

DISCLAIMER: I WILL NOT BE PROOF READING OR EDITING THIS AT ALL. THESE ARE JUST MY THOUGHTS. LIKE A DIGITAL DIARY.

SPOILER WARNING.

sympathy | noun: feelings of pity and sorrow..

empathy | noun: the ability to understand and share the feelings of another .

Let me start this off by stating— tanjirou is best boy. Caring, loving, understanding— all the traits of a loveable mc. Now, we can all agree that its mad annoying when a main character let’s an antagonist live simply because they feel bad. It’s unrealistic and paints a picture that everyone deserves a second chance. True antagonist deserve to reap what they sow and oh boy does Gotouge do such a great job at having them reap.

If you are here, you’ve watched/ read ‘Demon Slayer’. The way that the antagonist are written (apart from Muzan) is absolutely beautiful. The creator does such an amazing job of showing how fear can strip away the humanity or any trace of humanity from a person. The demons under Muzan are simply scared and feel they have no choice but to be evil.. which makes it even easier to pity them. I remember when I first watched Demon Slayer I was soooo upset when we saw the sad ass backstory of one of Muzan’s followers— yet they still died. After a while I Realized— my temporary pity was not enough to atone for their sins. I also realized how unfulfilling it would have been if Tanjirou just said “oh you had a sad life? i’ll let you go and say fuck those poor humans”. It’s unrealistic in a negative way.

For now, i’d like to focus on the deaths of Rui and The mother spider demon. The mother spider demons death always brings me to tears from the animation to the emotion it’s just AGH. Tanjirou is immediately ready to end her life with no second thought but, as soon as he notices her willingness to die— he takes a moment to show mercy.. to display empathy. Even without hearing a word from her, he can sense that she is nothing more than a pawn in the twisted game that Muzan is playing. When this scene happened I truly thought that he would let her live lmao. But in all honesty, him simply changing the movement of his sword was even better. In that moment, he realized that pitying her wasn’t enough. Allowing her to continue to live would do nothing more than leave her with trauma from that entire experience for all of eternity. She was no longer who she was before the mutilation.. so what was the point? Death was her freedom and he understood that and that’s fucking beautiful. He got all of this without her speaking a single word dude like come on he has such a strong intuition and uses it in the best way.

With Rui, when his headless body started crawling to Tanjirou and Nezuko I broke. down. Once again, Tanjirou understood that Rui was no longer the innocent child that was trapped inside but, he also understood that Rui was nothing MORE than a child. The animators do such a good job of showing the pain in Tanjirou’s eyes as the bodies fade. He has such a good balance of thoughtfulness while also stripping away his mercy just enough. I’m just so happy that demon slayer isn’t fueled by the power of friendship.

#demon slayer #anime #demon slayer tanjiro #tanjirou kamado #anime analysis #shigsapologist #muzan kibutsuji

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nevaryadl · 3 years

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Day 3 of the 31 Days of Apex: Quest

"I'm sorry Cry bro, I really don't know."

Crypto grunted, but could not find it too surprising that Mirage did not really know anything that Gibraltar wanted. Gibraltar was an open book and friends with most of the Legends, but weirdly enough no one really knew what material stuff that Gibraltar wanted. And now that the big man's birthday was coming up, Crypto found this weird facet to Gibraltar impeding his self ordained quest to get Gibraltar the best birthday present that he could physically get him. So Crypto had resorted to talking to the people that he knew Gibraltar usually talked with regularly in hopes of at least getting a hint of what to get him.

But no such luck so far and he was beginning to worry a bit. Sure, Gibraltar was a selfless guy with a heart of gold, but most everyone wanted something. Even something like clothes. But Crypto was kind of getting something more fun for Gibraltar, it was his birthday after all, the man deserved to have a fun treat for his birthday.

"It is fine," Crypto sighed.

"Uh, you try Ajay yet?" Mirage offered as he kept wiping down glasses behind the bar counter. Crypto had made the wise decision to catch Mirage after a shift at the bar to avoid the crowds and avoid the majority of Mirage's 'crowd attitude'. He liked Mirage, he actually did, but not when he was preening and acting for attention. The side of Mirage was just a bit much for his taste.

"Yeah," Crypto grunted. "She suggested clothes, but that is not... fun."

"Hmm... Octane?"

"Yeah. Tickets to a band that Makoa apparently likes, but I know Octane's ADHD makes his memory spotty, so I am keeping that as plan B."

"Pathfinder?"

"... No, actually."

"Be-believe it or not, Pathy pretty good with gifts, give him an ask," Mirage grinned.

"Okay, I will. Thank you, Mirage."

Crypto left to find Pathfinder. Thankfully, unlike some other hard to find out of games Legends (Bloodhound, Revenant, Caustic, Wraith, etc) it was actually pretty easy to find Pathfinder.

Pathfinder was tending to a greenhouse when Crypt managed to track him down, and it was as Crypto was let in by a cheery and dirt dusted Pathfinder, that he realized while looking around that this had to be Pathfinder's own greenhouse. The building was well cared for and well maintained, but obviously not some commercial greenhouse or communal one either. For a robot to willingly maintain on his own time was... strange. Perhaps there was a lot more personality, thought and soul to Pathfinder that Crypto had never really thought about. He filed that under 'I was wrong about a coworker, time to re-examine my opinion of them' as Pathfinder used a cloth to clean off his hands, screen and face before addressing him.

"Hello friend, how can I help you?" Pathfinder chimed cheerily.

"Uh... Makoa's birthday is coming up, Mirage told me you would probably know a good gift to give him," Crypto said.

"... Oh! Yes! I do actually!" Pathfinder said, bouncing once out of sheer excitement. "My friend Gibraltar always said that he wished another man would give him flowers!"

"... Huh, really?" Crypto hummed. Actually, now that he thought about it, flowers were always a great gift. And it really was not surprising that Gibraltar was the kind of man that liked (even specifically wanted) to get flowers as a gift. The man was just such a big sweetheart.

"Yes! He was quite specific in saying that," Pathfinder said before suddenly walking away.

Crypto thought that was a rather rude que for him to leave but was willing to take it regardless, but Pathfinder called out for him to stay and wait 'just one moment, friend!'. So Crypto waited, taking his coat off as the humid heat of the greenhouse got through his layers and made him sweat. And after about fifteen minutes of stifling humid heat, Pathfinder came back with a near full to burst pot of a rather beautiful spray of colors to it.

"Hibiscus, Shasta daisies, Coneflowers and Sweet Peas," Pathfinder rattled off, pointing a finger at each different flower of the bunch. "All very pretty, very hardy and very easy to take care of. They make a very pretty gift."

"They do... Pathfinder how can I ever repay--"

"Tell me if Gibraltar likes them? I would like to start giving gifts of flowers to my friends, because I love flowers and they are nice and I wish to share that with my friends!"

"Of course, thank you so much Pathfinder."

Now Crypto just had one last thing to do in his quest... give the gift to Gibraltar. So, he managed to get in touch with Gibraltar and set up a meeting, which ended up being at a local park. The sun was shining and kids were running around and it really was a perfect day out, even if he was keeping his face tucked within his jacket to avoid too many eyes on it and secretly pecking away at a hand-held to hack into local cameras to scrub his face from their feeds. Paranoid? Perhaps, but his life was on the line still. He would only risk exposing himself this way for Gibraltar. Only him.

Gibraltar showed up on time like a gentlemen, grinning broadly at him. Crypto was glad to see he was wearing casual clothes too, a nondescript t-shirt and jeans. He looked good, he looked happy, and Crypto smiled at the sight.

"Hey Cry, what's up?" Gibraltar beamed.

"Uh... happy birthday, Makoa," Crypto said, holding out the pot with the flowers.

Gibraltar seemed surprised, blinking owlishly as he looked from the potted flowers to Crypto. And then he just smiled this soft smile as he gently took the pot and held it to his chest tenderly, his face lit up with pure joy and his eyes soft.

"I love it, Cry."

Crypto just smiled back. It looked like he had accomplished his quest with flying colors.

#Apex Legends #Apex Fics #makoa gibraltar #crypto apex legends #Tae-Joon Park #long post/

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