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jacktoria4ever · 1 year

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Tornado Warnings. Part one???

Rafe Cameron x kook!!fem!!reader

A/n:I wasn't really sure the lyrics of this Sabrena Carpenter song in the first place but I did some research and I'm so glad one of recommended this. Thank you!!! And if you want more just tell me

And I do not proofread so I'm sorry in advance about the grammar and yes English is my first language but I'm just lazy.

Warnings: fluff, Rafe being cute and drunk at the same time, nice Rafe 🥵🥵, swearing. not much more💙💙💙

Staring off into space wondering what you should say sucks sometimes because you want to tell your therapist about the last time you saw him but...you don't instead of telling the truth and saying "We might have kissed." You say "I haven't seen him since the break up." Still wondering if you should say his name knowing if his name is brought up by either of you you would start crying your eyes out.

"Are you sure?" Your therapist says definitely not believing your last statement.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You say getting defensive at the question. Of course you don't want to tell your therapist that you hooked up with your ex who you've said you hated since you broke up.

She raises her eyebrow at the statement not knowing what to say next because she knows for a fact you will deny every accusation directed toward you. "Y/n, you're going to need to put Rafe in the past soon."

Y/n, getting ready to fake cry to make it seem like she cares but knows that she could just stop talking and leave anytime. "I-I don't know if I'm ready for that." You say completely faking but your therapist certainly can't tell and you can see that from her attentive look you are still trying to read because she makes this face so much amd you still don't know what I actually means after 4 years of weekly therapy.

You sit in uncomfortable silence for a while until her alarm goes off telling her that your appointment is over and it's time go get ready and go home. You've never stayed that late but today felt different. You leave the building and climb in your car and the first thing you do is check your phone and as always there is a text from Rafe saying "when do you get home? I want you."

You drive away smiling at the message when your phone dings again. This time it's a text from your best friend JJ Maybank saying "I just saw Rafe at the Club are you okay if I tell you what he said?" Looking at it wondering "what the hell?" But you can't respond because you're driving you decide to call JJ instead. "Hello?" JJ says in his goofy voice he uses when he talks to you. "Hi...?" You say unsure as to why you really HAD to call him.

"So do you want me to tell you what he said?"JJ asked truly curious.

"Uhh...I guess?"You say still confused. "You better hurry up. I'm almost home and I'm having some people over for dinner" you come up with quickly not knowing if he believes it you're still proud of yourself.

Oh okay...anyways he said and I QUOTE drunk off his ass "I miss y/n" Like What the actual hell does that mean? Right?" He says in disbelief.

You just having to go along with it say "yeah that is really weird" dragging your words for a little bit before you get to your front soon and start grabbing your keys from your backpack. "Okay I have to go guest's will be here soon and I still need to clean up a little bit byeeee"

Okay. I love you by-" he says as he gets cut off by the beep telling him you hung up in a rush.

As soon as you hang up you text rafe to hurry up because you're finally home amd he quickly jumps in his truck and speeds across the two block between your houses wondering why he didn't just run he knocks on your door and as he waits impatiently for you to open the door he starts yelling at your camera you have by your front door "Hurry up! I need to touch you!" He says with his words slurred and stumbling just a bit. And as you open the door you see him almost fall on top of you.

"What the hell, Rafe?" You say truly worried.

"Heyyy babyyyy! How wass youur dayyyy? Sluring every other word unknowingly. You sit him down on the bottom step of your stairs in the foyer to your house.

"Hey, hey, hey. What happened handsome?" You say absolutely confused but also happy that JJ knew exactly what happened.

Rafe shocked you called him handsome looks at you in complete adoration and love "HI Beautiful...nothing happened I just had.......a lot of tequila." He says while counting on his fingers and raising all of them to show you he doesn't know how many.

"Babe! You can't do shit like this to me and forget to mention it." you say sternly so he knows you're talking to him.

"I'm sorry baby! I just wanted to say I loved you." He says trying to sober up a little bit so he can smile without the influence of alcohol.

You laugh at his attempt at charming you. "It's okay. Hey, let's get you washed up and in bed. Okay?" You say softly knowing how bad of a headache he'll have in the morning.

"Okay." He says already drifting off to sleep.

"Nope! Come on Big Boy! You need a shower first and then we can cuddle and watch movies all day tomorrow." You say knowing neither of you have work or school tomorrow.

He smiles and nods his head in response because he is wayyy too tired to answer as of right now.

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed. You get up and slowly and quietly walk down the stairs, turn into the kitchen and lean on the doorway to the attached dining room just staring at the bare back facing toward you.

You can't help but just stare for a few minutes blacking out shortly after and you come to your senses with Rafe standing in front of you with his arms wrapped around your waist. "Good morning, Beautiful." He says with a sleepy smile.

"Hello. Why are you up so early?" You say with a quizzical look on your face.

"Sweetheart, it's 2pm." He says wondering how long you were awake last night.

"Oh, well, Good Morning to you too." She says with a small still half asleep smile. "What are you making for breakfast?" You say needing answers as to why your ex boyfriend/little hookup is snooping around your kitchen cooking you breakfast after he came to your house drunk last night.

"I wanted to be nice. Is that so bad Pretty Girl?" He asks truly curious. You stare off not knowing what to say.

"Sorry, I know your trying to get better but why were you so drunk last night?" You ask wanting to know what happened for him to leave his 2 months of sobriety for a whole night of drinking just to be happy the next day and act as if nothing happened.

"I don't know. I think it was about you not answering my text last night, maybe." He says ashamed at his prior actions.

"Babe, I was at therapy and didn't see your text until I was home. Okay?" You say with a tad of empathy in your eyes but then again he is a legal adult and should know better.

"Oh, sorry." He says asking himself why he did it mumbling to himself so fast not even an auctioneer could tell what the hell he just said. You walk over to the cabinet above your dishwasher to grab a few plates from the top shelf and when you seem to struggle you feel a large set of hands on your waist lift you and place you about a foot away from the cabinet. He reaches up and grabs the plates. And slowly inches you toward the dining room so you still don't know what's for breakfast.

He brings in a large stack of Chocolate chip pancakes and a bottle of syrup. When he sets everything down he walks away back to the kitchen doing this all while being completely silent and when he walks back in he's holding a large bowl full of your favorite mix of fruit (you can tell me which fruit you want and I'll eventually make a little run down of EVERYTHING about y/n if you just dm me or send me an ask about it I will do all of it if I see yours first like favorite color fruit etc.) When he sats down the bowl in front of you he places a slight peck to your forehead and you act like you pass out to cover the fact that you're blushing at the action.

"Princess, Are you okay?" He says truly worried about your head being stuck down because you refuse to look up at him.

"Fuck!" You say looking up terribly red. He just smiles at you realizing why you're bright red.

"I'm sorry, Beautiful. I didn't realize that's why you suddenly became so shy." He says attentatively toward you.

"It's okay I just wasn't expecting that kiss. Thank you for breakfast by the way." You say genuinely grateful.

"Brunch, Beautiful. It's brunch." Rafe says Matter-of-factly. You look at him and roll your eyes sarcastically.

"Fine! Brunch!" You say enunciating oddly.

"That's better. How was therapy yesterday?

You look at him with an awkward smile "it was..." You stop wondering what the hell to tell him "It was therapy for sure." You look at him after saying that with the most uncomfortable, disappointed 'why did you ask' kind of stare.

"Babe...what does that face mean?" He asks genuinely curious not knowing what to say next.

"I...I don't know, honestly." You say absolutely positive you DO know.

"Okay...hurry up and eat. I want to watch a movie." He says urgently.

"Which movie?" You say really scared as to what movie he has chosen to make you watch.

"Mmm" He says to think for a little bit longer not expecting such a fast response to his statement.

"Mmm what? What is happening in that odd brain of yours?" You say quietly after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

"I know what movie we're going to watch." He says suddenly. Acting weirder rhan normal.

"Okay...?" You say after wondering what kind of weird-ass stuff he's doing.

Sorry it's a little bit everywhere didn't really know what to do bc this was my first story so...yeah! If you enjoyed please let me know and do the same if you want more too. I was kinda throwing this together over the span of like...4 days? Idk. Hope you liked it bye<333

#rafe x y/n #Adorable rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron

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sinsiriuslyemo · 4 months

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Omg just saw your answer on Sirius 😍 it's amazing! Now that makes me want to ask about If Only She Knew 🤔 also Game of Veils and Just Once, what are their fandoms?

So, full disclosure, all of these are Sirius Black fics. Still waiting for the inspo bug to hit me for Drexyl because I need to write that filthy animal 😆 and eventually, I may do a Gordon one too, but as the oneshots I've done have basically followed the same reader, I may just stick with those for now until a bigger idea strikes.

As for the other fics:

We'll start with Game of Veils since that one will be a crossover with Game of Thrones. It'll take place after Sirius goes through the veil and lands in Westeros. I'm still debating on whether I want it to be a Sirius/Robb Stark pairing or Sirius/Daenerys Targaryon.

If She Only Knew may end up being a mini fic and will follow Sirius after he escapes from Azkaban. That one I just have general notes for:

Sirius Black has just escaped from Azkaban. Tired and weak from his journey to Surrey, he ends up in the care of a young muggle woman who nurses him back to health. She decides to keep him after her vet finds no chip in him, and Sirius decides to stay until he's strong enough to go and find Harry. The woman is a historian, and after seeing a news segment about the escape of Sirius Black is haunted by his image so much so that it makes her want to know more about him. Meanwhile, for her job, she has been interpreting an ancient text found (where?) that so happens to be a magical artifact. Sirius sees it as a way to buy his freedom, only he's begun to fall in love with the muggle.

Just Once is another Sirmione fic where they hook up one night and agree it'll just be the one night, but they keep hooking up again and again, even though they keep saying "this is the last time". This one might be posted out of order because that one also started as an odea for a one shot that was one such time that they hool up again, but then I wanted to write the whole relationship arc 😭 Here's a snippet from the first one I started writing (not the first time they hook up)

"Let's go on holiday, she said. It'll be fun, she said. Let's leave our wands and do it the muggle way, she said." There was a scowl that had formed on Sirius' face as he recited the last quote he'd been mocking. "Piss it, I say. Now we're stuck here, no wands, and snow coming down like a unicorn stampede! Can't get out! You've really done it now, Love."

Hermione rolled her eyes; after a long talk with her therapist, she'd decided to plan a family holiday. "For one, we needed a holiday, it was fun and we didn't need wands to have fun! All we need to do is make it through the night and they'll dig us out in the morning." She looked up at him incredulously. "Honestly, Sirius, it was your bloody idea to stay an extra day."

#game of veils #just once #if only she knew #askbox #wip tag

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drunk-on-starlight · 5 months

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Do you have any evidence that Vanessa is just being manipulated? I’ll admit no one knows exactly what’s going on, but I feel it’s pretty clear there’s at least something similar to mind control present. If the encyclopedia is still valid, it says she was corrupted and then freed from his influence.

As much evidence as anything in this franchise has.

I'm assuming by "Mind Control," you're referring to literal control over mind and/or body? Apologies if you meant something else.

Gonna start with Jeremy (Help Wanted edition), since he's the first "glitchtrapped" character we learn about.

Here's a few choice quotes

"I think it's made worse by the fact that Jeremy tried to tell us something was wrong."-Tape 3, HW

“Jeremy complained of nightmares when he came in this morning. He wasn't talking about it like someone telling a friend about his dreams though. He was pale...looked like he hadn't eaten in days." -Tape 7, HW

"He just stands there like he's talking to someone. Sometimes he [just] rocks from side to side"-Tape 7, HW

"I think Jeremy was too far gone to consider that option though.-They just knew he'd seen something. They needed to discredit him.”-Tape 8, HW

These collectively establish that Glitchtrap (Known here as the anomaly) had clearly gotten his hooks into Jeremy, right? And yet, he was able to injure himself enough to make Glitchtrap back off. Furthermore, Glitchtrap is talking to him in Tape 7. Not only was Jeremy able to legitimately do something Glitchtrap didn't want, he wasn't able to stop him.

Now, to Vanessa. The first relevant quote here; "So, the word compliance by itself isn't going to set off any red flags, but the sentence how to induce compliance in human subjects, and how to induce self-compliance(?)"-"Did you search for 'help' by itself?"-December 2, 2019.

"I was a little worried maybe something is going on with you? One day you're researching flowers and the migration patterns of bees (fascinating, right?) and the next day you type in 'How far can a human being be cut in half before losing consciousness'."-Dec 4, 2019

At the risk of assuming too much, I don't think someone who is mind controlled would need to find a way to induce "compliance."

Then you have "I came by your desk to say hi today and I don't think you even heard me. You had your face so close to the screen"-"I waited for a second to see if you would turn around, but it was like you were in another world. It must be useful to be able to shout out the world and focus like that, I wish I could do it. I thought you were on a conference call at first because I heard voices."-Dec 9, 2019.

Much like Jeremy, Glitchtrap needs to talk to her. If he could just control her, I don't see why he'd need to audibly speak to her(1)(2), or why he'd let her type out help. Or frankly, why he'd let her Google all the other cutsey stuff. Furthermore, she wouldn't need to search how to induce "self-compliance" if he was already controlling her.

Finally, Security Breach's Retro CDs. First up, CD 1-7139

"Yes, of course, you do. Your performance reviews are good, but a routine check of your online history has revealed that you spend quite a bit of time with someone in an encrypted conversation. We have transcripts, and I’ve read them, but it’s not clear what you’re talking about in these conversations. I can’t make sense of it. You must be getting something from these that I’m not getting. Right? Who are you talking to in these?"

Again, a conversation, one in which the therapist here says "You must be getting something out of these."

Next, CD 3-7140. This is where her dad, a guy named "Bill"(3) is first mentioned, along with this "Your dad made you follow instructions, didn’t he? I’m talking about the custody battle between your mom and your dad. Your dad didn’t play it fair, did he? He used to make your mom look bad in court. I’m so sorry that happened to you. Do you want to talk about how that felt? and "He manipulated you. It wasn’t your fault." Keep that last bit in mind, it's not the first time manipulation gets brought up.

CD 5-7141 "Apparently, the IT department has put together a pretty lengthy report chronicling non-job-related communications that have been coming to your computer"-"but what bothers me about what I read is that the messages you're getting seem very manipulative in nature. Do you know who I'm talking about?"

Again, they reiterate Glitchtrap needs to communicate. Further, the messages are described as manipulative. Why would a mind control entity need to do that? And to tie into the previous tape, the therapist says "What you might not know is that this person who's been sending you messages has been hacking into your personal files too. These are the same files I have here. These files are full of details about your life."

The same files the therapist said showed her father being manipulative. In response to being told this person knows a lot of her personal info, Vanessa says "Lots of people know more than I do. Sometimes I need to listen."

Now, CD 11-7145 is where Vanessa says "I can't talk about this. He said he would always be watching. He could be here or there or anywhere in between." to which her therapist responds "Are you talking about your dad?," directly comparing Glitchtrap to her manipulative father. Vanessa also says that Glitchtrap told her that he could be anywhere, which means he's not always with her, and he'd kind of have to be for mind control.

Security Breach itself seems to support this, to some degree. Vanessa makes her entire hunt a game; She presumably knocks Gregory out and locks him in Lost and Found, only to return after dressing up, she skips around the Pizzaplex. She swaps back and forth, none of which is necessary and of which she probably wouldn't do if controlled.

If we look back at Help Wanted, she specifically says (in another example of the one sided conversation) that she can hear him, there's no miscommunication, she understands and that she made the mask herself. She also says "I think you would like it,""I'll be ready" (That she needs to make herself ready is another tally against the mind control) and that "It'll be fun." Honestly, she reads as far more of a daughter figure in HW than anywhere else.

Maybe I'm misreading all this, but it doesn't seem like mind control. It seems like a young woman had serious childhood trauma that left her open to being taken advantage by an experienced manipulator.

#fnaf #(1) This is different in “The Monty Within.”#(2) Or threaten her. This is a personal theory but a few of the emails make more sense as threats than anything.#(3) I want to be clear and say that I think Bill is legit a different character and is her father.#But the Movie did make her actually Williams daughter. Interesting choice considering the name.#A reluctant follower #Sorry this is like a week later. Had to reread a bunch of stuff.#This isn't very polished either. Might redo this post in a bit with some more shine.#(Tag) a reluctant follower

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pynkhues · 1 year

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Ik this is kind of an impossible question lol but in your opinion top 5 succession episodes or top good girl episodes. Episodes that you would rate a 5 star ⭐ or eps that you'll never get tired of rewatching

Ooo, I've done Good Girls a few times, so let's go Succession. Honestly, I think I've rewatched every episode a zillion times at this point, and it's so hard for me to not go with real 'event' eps like What It Takes, DC and Argestes where the show's firing on all cylinders politically, but at the end of the day, I'm here for the family drama, so my Top 5 are going to be centred around that.

Also let's not include s4 since it's so recent, annnnd let's go with them in chronological order as opposed to fave orders, because that might literally be impossible for me, haha.

1.07 - Austerlitz

I've talked about it before, but the one-two punch of 1.06 and 1.07 is really what hooked me on the show. I'd been enjoying it, but these two episodes are such a perfect bait and switch and an incredible encapsulation of what it is that makes the show so good. While I love the absolute heart pounding anxiety/adrenaline rush of 1.06, nothing beats the family therapy episode for me. It's got everything - Connor's house in the desert, forced family bonding, subterfuge, relapses, collateral damage in the shape of famous family therapist's teeth, Shiv cheating on Tom, Shiv calling Logan out on leaking stories about Kendall, Roman picking Kendall up, Kendall defending Shiv, the reveal of Logan's own physical abuse. Literally a perfect episode of TV, I love it so so so much.

2.01 - The Summer Palace

I wasn't sure whether to put 1.10 here, which is absolutely showstopping, jawdropping TV, but if I only have five slots, I think The Summer Palace slightly ekes it out for me? I think I've rewatched it more at the very least, and in particular the scene with Logan and Shiv where he picks her is one of my favourite of the entire show. Sarah and Brian are both just on fire in that scene, and for a moment - just a moment - you can see them both really believe that she's it. The thing about the show, is that I really think one of the reasons it works is because Logan himself believes his bullshit at least some of the time, and I know there are people who disagree, but I do think he loved them, and this episode reveals both the highs and the lows of that love for all four kids.

2.04 - Safe Room

The show always balances humour and tragedy well, but I don't think it ever balances that in one episode as well as it does here. The fallout of a gunshot in the office is the sort of catalyst moment Succession's always done well, but seeing Greg and Tom scrambling (Greg's 'An attack child!" line is maybe the funniest he's ever been to me on this show), contrasted against the very human drama of Logan clearly worrying something's happened to Kendall, and Shiv not understanding the full implications, are just the best sorts of human family drama to me. Also Roman's management training is one of my favourite B-plots the show's ever done. Also-also, we've had a few great hugs on this show now, but Shiv and Kendall's in this episode is literally everything to me.

3.07 - Too Much Birthday

Look, I don't make it a secret that I'm a Kendall girl, haha (although I really do love all four of the Roy sibs), plus a group sibling scenes fan, plus a big fan of Lorene Scafaria's directing, so this ep was pretty much tailor-made for me. The art direction, the pacing, the energy, the - to quote Jesse Armstrong - straight line down of it all is pretty much pefect, with the golden trio all being their ugliest, messiest selves in the way they only truly are with each other, even or especially when they're on the outs. It just gets to me in all the best ways.

3.09 - All the Bell's Say

Literally an episode of all time for me, of any show. I don't think I've ever experienced the level of catharsis from tv that I did the first time I saw Kendall tell Shiv and Roman what he'd done at her wedding in the s1 finale, and I think I've watched that episode, and that scene, a million times at this point. It's etched into my brain, it's everything to me, and I know we're in for a bumpy ride this season, but as I keep reminding myself, we'll always have Tuscany.

Ask me for my Top Fives

#thank you!#i'll probably change my mind on some of these tomorrow #the whole show is just amazing #and these were just the five that immediately fought for real estate in my head #now i'm curious what other people's favourite episodes are haha #top five ask game #hbo succession #welcome to my ama

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eriellesudario · 7 years

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The Loneliest Girl In The Universe // A Space!Au of our lives

While I was at Melbourne for Vidcon Australia, I’ve decided to go to a bookstore before watching The Book of Mormon at the Princess Theatre with the family. We passed by the Hill of Content Bookstore at Bourke Street and whilst I was looking around, one book caught my eye and it’s called ‘The Loneliest Girl in the Universe’. I picked up the book and read the blurb in the back and what caught my attention was this quote at the top:

I immediately posted this on Snapchat (? Cutiejea) and read it a week later after Vidcon.

I got the book because after reading the description at the back, it talks about online friendships/romances and may depict some themes of depression, mental illness, and what it’s like to be alone and isolated. Plus the title relates to me at some personal degree.

On the 15th of September (a week after my purchase), I’ve decided to read it and after finishing the book just recently, I have to say…. I quite enjoyed it. But what I liked most about reading the book is how much I could relate to the protagonist and how the way the two characters interact via online means of communication is fairly accurate to what I’ve experienced in the past.

And now… I’m writing my thoughts on the novel.

About the Novel

The Loneliest Girl in the Universe is a book written by Lauren James who resides in the United Kingdom. The book is her first standalone novel, published in September 7 2017, and it was inspired by a Physics calculation that the author was assigned when she was at university (Source: Godreads). The author has studied Physics and Chemistry at University of Nottingham and started writing fictional stories whilst she was in her secondary education.

The book follows Romy Silvers, the 16 year old commander and the only survivor of The Infinity spacecraft. Her parents died whilst she was 11 and she has 20 years to go before she arrives at Earth II. She talks to her therapist Molly, via email and audio transmissions, to help her cope from her loneliness, anxiety, depression, and the nightmares she’s been receiving. Before things got bad back on Earth, a second ship was sent to connect with The Infinity, the Eternity. In it was a passenger named ‘J’ and the two talk to each other via email communications about their concerns about Earth and their journey to the new planet. But as time passes, Romy begins to fall in love with this online stranger and wonders what would happen when they meet in real life.

The way the book it’s structured, some chapters are long, like your average 8 – 10 pages; but a majority of the book are at least 1 – 3 pages long. This kinda made me upset but knowing on what the story is about and how each events play out as the chapters are set up in days and hours, it makes sense.

One of the things that I enjoyed about the book is the email exchanges between Romy and J and Romy’s thoughts during the wait before each message arrives. You’d get invested to what they say to each other and you can see how much Romy needs J in order to fight her demons and nightmares. But you also worry for her since her entire reality is based on fiction. She was born in space, hence everything she knows is based on what her parents taught her and what she sees in saved videos and other forms of media in her hard drives.

This book is a Sci-Fi romance novel and I have to admit, this was the first Sci-Fi book I’ve ever read. I’ve read a handful of YA romance books in the past such as The Fault in our Stars, If I Stay, and a few manga series as well such as Fruits Baskets and Full Moon O Sagashite. It didn’t turn me off knowing that the story would be set in space, but what concerned me is that I might not get the terminology used. Luckily, the terms are easy to understand and you wont get lost in the terminology

How this book can relate to us (WARNING… SPOILERS)

When I first got this book, I though it would be just an interesting read as I just got hooked by the title and blurb alone. But once I got through a few chapters, I felt like we can all relate to Romy and her journey in The Infinity, as well as her interactions with J.

Romy Silvers

Romy in the book has an interest in writing fan fiction to cope with her loneliness as well as to bring her thoughts to life through text. She writes down how she’s feeling in forms of fiction and it helps calm her down.

It’s also mentioned in the book on how she created this mini dream life through food packets about the life she wishes to have. She she lives through this exaggerated idea about how her life would be like if she wasn’t alone and makes sense since her only life revolves around the ship. I know I can’t speak for everyone, but I know there a few fan fiction writers out there who write stories of their favourite characters as a way to experiment with certain ideas. I’ve met a couple of fan artist who make art as a way to cope with whatever what’s going on with their reality.

If I could quote Dan Howell, ‘Fan Fiction is a creative hobby. Would you rather let your child do drugs or write?’.

Online Communication

One of the events that occurred in the book is when both Romy and J have their first audio call. Everything that occurred in that chapter is fairly accurate. Being nervous and speechless due to joy and excitement, I guess first calls aren’t something to be very excited about. But if the person on the other side is someone you’ve been talking to for quite some time, then those feelings could appear during the anticipation.

Does this scenario sound familiar to you:

You sit on front of your computer screen or mobile phone. You log in to Skype, added the person and press that phone button that says ‘Start call’. Time slows down between the connection time and ringing. In your head, it’s filled with both excitement to hear this person for the first time, but also fearful as well since you don’t know who’s at the other side. Once the first person says ‘hello’, you’re smiling and covering your mouth. You grin so widely and/or your heart begins to beat really fast due to sheer excitement.

Then there is the email communication. Romy uses it in order to contact people and she cherishes each message she receives since they take months before the messages arrive from point A to point B. It allows her to be in touch with the people she finds comfort with. Let’s change that with DM’s over on Twitter or Facebook messenger. We all talk to random strangers on the internet to seek comfort when life gets rough at home or at school. You do it to connect with people with similar interest and stories as you.

The idea of loneliness and isolation

One of the things I enjoyed reading in this book is how the author talks about the idea of being alone and isolated. People have different experiences when it comes to this but at least half of whats’ depicted in the book, we could somewhat relate to it… mostly the ones involving love and romance.

For me, I will not explain a lot for this part since it’s gets really personal. All I can say is that, yes, you do invest a lot of time when it comes to love and romance and currently for my experience, it did lead to a lot of pain.

Other forms of loneliness depicted in the book is being literally alone in one small area (as Romy is the only survivor), survival (since her actions will determine if she lives or dies), and a few others that I won’t go on with. Up to you to find out for yourself.

And this is just some of the few ways on how this book could relate to you. We have experienced some of these things at some point in our lives and the way it’s described in the book, it’s close to how it actually happens in real life, to what we have been through… but set in space.

Definitely a Space!Au of our reality.

Overall thoughts

The book was quite enjoyable and I recommend you guys to read it. The plot can relate to those who made online friendships but it also explores the ideas of trust, loneliness and mental illness. This story takes the Science fiction genre and mixed it with your usual YA romance novel.

Think of it as Full Moon O Sagashite mixed up with Star Trek.

If the author ends up seeing this review, I want to say that I almost cried when I was reading this as past memories started to play in my head every time I read the email exchanges between Romy and J. It’s similar to what I’ve sent in the past, hence why I enjoyed it.

I made a Spotify playlist filled with songs that could relate to the story in the book. I recommend listening while reading if you want to get fully invested to the story.

I give it a rating of 4/5. It’s a good start for those who wants to try to get into the Sci-Fi genre without getting lost with the terminology, but also want something that hits close to home. It’s a story that we as readers could relate to, but feel like we’re part of this space adventure with Romy.

#2017 #review #the loneliest girl in the universe #book

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weaselbeaselpants · 4 months

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Cont. my point from my last rb:

If you want a case of genuine RED flags about people given how they consume fiction/bark about it, I have more than a few anecdotes:

My sister had a co-worker who really liked to hook up but was also SUPER judgmental and sl*tshammy of woman in relationships when she wasn't in one. She outright admitted she wouldn't watch/read something "unless there was a love story" in it and unironically quoted LadyGaga "when it's love if it isn't rough it isn't fun"/"Belle and Beast ended happy too" in regards to her many broken one-off relationships. It was...uncomfortable and it was made all the worse by her not caring about other people's boundaries while she did that.

E.L. James snapping at a r*pe survivor about how there was "No Rape in Fifty Shades". You're into noncon fiction, E.L. Just admit it and leave the BDSM communities alone. Also don't write. You suck at it.

Ben Shapiro (need I say more?) making comments about other people's sex lives and happiness based on their media input. Especially when anything dare be about non traditional sex in marriage or about a woman's enjoyment of sex DEAR GOD

Everything about Poppy from ZenaandPoppy. A PROUD proshipper+therapist who also likes kink art, none of which is a problem. Except when it comes to flashing her roommates and demanding that they accept it and shaming them for their "asexual shit", posting nsfw art everywhere, and most importantly saying there's nothing wrong with real-life incest outside of "breeding"; to the point that Poppy even tried to convince an incest survivor to enjoy incest porn in order to not "see it as a bad thing".

Lily Orchard just REALLY wanting to talk about incest and happy incest and how games that feature incest don't feature "consensual" incest more often and how it's actually technically pure just WEEKS after her sibling came out and accused her of sexually abusing them into their teens. Lily Orchard saying those accusations are false because said sibling is "not fuckable" to her. Lily Orchard still not apologizing or really doing anything other than deflecting onto others when it comes to shipping Elsanna and HARD and insisting it is/should be canon in a Disney movie.

Cosmodore trying to excuse his abuse of an underage victim with the anime he was reviewing being about redemption and 'forgiveness' and overall just being a LITTLE too eager to mention age-of-consent laws in other countries. Bleh.

And so many more I skipped out on.

By all accounts there are worrisome things consumed and argued that tell you a lot about the person doing the consuming. But, unless you have some idea of any of that or the thing being argued for is unambigously wrong, I think it's really heinous to make assumptions like that.

People can write about the happiest, healthiest wish-fufillment things and be terrible to partners; people can write about weird or awful things happening in the world but be committed and good partners. I think it's really vile to imply otherwise unless you've actually seen some red flags about them personality-wise.

#vent #media analysis

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absolutesort · 1 year

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FRANKIE & JOSH— DAY THIRTY-NINE.

location : gym.

time : josh rips frankie a new one (diet version)

featuring : josh / @graftisms

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨.

“i feel like such a cunt, josh,” frankie states, fists punching on the out breath, bag swinging back at her with every smack of her right hook. it’s pretty clear she’s going through it today, kinda wishes she could punch herself in the face with the power that she’s hitting the heavy bag. “like i want so badly to be a good person for him but i just keep fucking it up!” fists start whacking against the heavy bag in power-punches, sweat beading on her brow, before the timer on her phone goes off, signalling a thirty-second rest. heaving out a sigh, frankie reaches for her water bottle. “how did you get naomi back? like, after casa. i guess it was different for you. you didn’t like, have feelings for mali or whatever.” groaning, she crosses to the bench press where josh is and picks up her towel, wiping herself down as she drops back into the grass. “this is so stupid. like when i came back from casa and saw she had someone new i was genuinely so happy for her, i was like, get it, girl, looks like we both moved on!” she’s fed up of talking about callie all the time. they’ve got closure, and callie doesn’t resent her any more, which is great, but somehow the ghost of her is still messing things up with miles. although frankie can’t really blame callie for them taking a step back, when it’s a direct result of something she said. well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of her own actions. “why is all this shit just cropping up now when me and miles were like, really good. he says he’s ready to be all-in with me and i pull this crap? what the fuck is wrong with me, dude.” she should probably be having this chat with cheryl, but apparently she’s occupied with jenny.

𝙟𝙤𝙨𝙝 𝙫𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙨.

they've been working out for fifteen minutes together, and in that time frankie's managed to pretty much sum up everything that had happened between her and miles last night—unprompted, josh might add. sometimes it's hard being the friend of two people who are together, because he's so used to talking to miles about frankie that the opposite feels a little wrong, even if it's not like he's new to hearing frankie talk about him, either. "yeah, that's what miles wants. a good person," josh snorts from the place he's lifting weights. in all honesty, it could be something he wants. the way frankie said it just sounds so ridiculous, as if anything in this villa has to do with being a good person. "well, i'm no therapist, but maybe you should start thinking about how the shit you say or do affects the relationship you're not directly talking to right now," he offers, with only mild attitude. it's hard to fault frankie when being in the hot seat in a relationship is something that's just so josh—and it's not like he hadn't just told miles to keep his options open. "look, i hate to break it to you, but there's nothing really you can do. you made your bed, now you gotta suck it up and let him pretend that he wants to get to know other people. you and i both know it's gonna last, like, two days tops." who could be possibly be interested in, dante? be serious.

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨.

still lying in the grass, swigging from her sports bottle, frankie’s slightly taken aback by josh’s tone, her expression flashing briefly between puzzled and irritated before returning to its resting face. “wow. okay,” she exhales, lips pursed, sucking on the sour taste of her own medicine. “yeah, okay i deserve that.” despite quoting the sonic kid meme on the reg, it’s still tough for frankie accept that her actions have consequences. “i just struggle with object permanence, y'know. it’s like i can only focus on what’s immediately in front of me.” not that she views miles as an object, except for in the situations when it’s obvious he wants to be objectified by her. god, he’s so fit. “but i am trying to be better, josh. to put him at the forefront of everything else i do and not be so 'in the moment' that i like… neglect my responsibilities as a partner.” if she convinces josh she’s serious about this, maybe some of that wingman energy he was sporting to pitch miles as a viable partner to frankie in casa will rub off on him again, and he’ll slip in a few kind words about how truly sorry she is, and how down bad this ‘step back’ has got her. maybe the situation with callie was the ‘big oof’ she needed to help her see how her decisions affect others, how it can’t just be an all-you-can-eat buffet of romantic possibility if she wants to find a meaningful connection. on the outside, it can work like that, but in here things work differently, and she still feels like everybody else has studied a rule book she’s never even read the blurb of. if only she’d watched a season of the show before the one she’s now in…

“fine. two days. but if he fucks someone else i’m walking.” a threat she’d probably go back on if it actually came to it, and miles decided she was still it for him. “what was going on with you and adela in those clips? i mean, that’s not a thing, right?” because frankie’s pretty sure adela spent most of casa trying to pull her. or chirpse, or whatever the word adela says in her cute british accent is.

𝙟𝙤𝙨𝙝 𝙫𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙨.

"object permanence," he repeats with an immediate laugh, stopping what he's doing to look at her like she has three heads. "there's no way that shit is real. if naomi—" he starts, before remembering him and naomi aren't speaking right now, and it's not something he wants to talk about. "if i said that to any of the girls i was dating," he restarts, "i would immediately get slapped. that sounds, like, a half-assed excuse to cheat." maybe josh should file that one in the back of his head for later, just in case. not with naomi, but if things with naomi go as south as they felt last night in bed alone, and he has to go back to the kind of dating he'd been doing. "object permanence," he mutters to himself with a snort, going back to his reps. she can say she's doing better at much as she'd like—and josh does believe that she wants to make it work—but it's hard to take that very seriously after everything else she's said today. "you're not walking," he rolls his eyes. "and he's not fucking anyone else. you know i like you both together, but if i had to guess who was going to fuck someone else right now, i'd bet on you. spend the next few days proving me wrong, yeah?" the mention of adela is such a complete 180 from the conversation that he has to glance back over at frankie on the grass, giving her a look to show just how absurd her question is. "do you think adela and i are actually a thing?" honestly.

#still pissed i didn't get time to do this reply #all that's in my notes is 'oh. wow. fuck me i guess'#frankie & josh.#⥂ frankie castro. ╱ threads.#frankie & josh 009.

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nony-bear · 2 years

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Matched (Part I)

This blog and ALL posts are for people 18 + ONLY.

I do not give permission for my works to be re-uploaded or copied in any way or form including translations.

Photo Found Here // Banner Made By Me

Dividers Found Here & Here

Parings: Alpha Bucky Barnes X Omega Reader

Warnings: ABO dynamics, slight medical speak, doctors office, blood tests, therapists / therapy mentioned, angst maybe?

Word Count: 1562

Summary: This is part one of the series Matched. Bucky Barnes always dreamed of settling down with a mate but after decades of trauma leaving him a grumpy old man with a robotic arm he’s convinced no one could love an alpha like him. Begrudgingly he follows his therapist advice and enrolls in the Swan Program a mate matching program offered but the new aged bio-tech company Mate-Tech.

A/N: I cannot believe I actually am finally doing this. I have had this idea for a series since even before I started writing on Tumblr and it feels so surreal now that I am fully bringing it to life. I’m incredibly nervous about sharing it with everyone because of how close it is to my heart. If I am being honest at the time of posting this I am going through quite the rough patch but I’m hoping finally doing this will help me through. It has already brought me so much joy already and I hope it can bring some of you all a little bit of happiness too. Any likes and reblog or sharing of any kind would be greatly appreciated but as always this blog and all of its content is for people ages 18 and up and never do I ever give permission for my works to be re-uploaded or copied in any way or form including translations.

Series Masterlist

Part II

Bucky stares up at the building in disbelief. Was he really going to do this? Just last week, he thought this was the stupidest idea he had ever heard, committed to rejecting it the second his therapist brought it up.

"James, you want to find a mate, you've said so yourself, what's stopping you?" Dr. Douglas, who Bucky most commonly referred to as Marie, asked as she sat in her usual armchair, glasses sliding down her nose and right hand twirling her pen, no doubt about to write down notes about whatever his answer may be. Bucky didn't mind, though; he liked therapy oddly enough. After a whole life spent unable to talk about his feelings, there was something comforting in a specified time and place each week to do just that.

"I've already answered that question," Bucky grumbled, shoving his hands further down into his pockets.

Marie's lips pursed together, matching Bucky's annoyance. "Well, you must be holding back something because, to my knowledge, you have an excellent solution to all your worries, and yet you haven't taken it."

"Sorry if I'm a little hesitant about some 21st-century AI-technological-mate-matching-bullshit." He responded with a subtle eye roll.

"So you at least read some of the pamphlet I gave you?"

Bucky huffed. "Yeah, I read it."

"So what's the problem? Why are you… hesitant?" Marie asked, adding finger air quotes around Bucky's words.

"Stuff like this didn't exist in my day. There weren't places you could just go and be hooked up to some machines, answer a few questions, and then a compatible mate be hand-selected for you. You had to go out there like a real alpha and find your mate yourself."

"And how is that working out for you, James?" Marie asked skeptically. "You've been in here for months now lamenting over never finding a mate, whether it be due to your past, or your arm, or whatever may have you. You said you don't feel like an Alpha because you don't feel in control…. So take control.

Bucky now repeats those words in his head over and over again. Take control.

He nods to himself and walks into the building with a deep breath.

Inside the door, he is met with a large reception area, white, sterile, medical-looking, and doing absolutely nothing to calm his nerves.

He walks to the large desk in the back center of the room framed by elevators on either side, leading up to what looked like dozens of floors on the outside and two betas working behind it.

"Um, excuse me?" Bucky asks once he's approached the desk.

"Hi, is there something I can help you with, sir?" The taller of the two betas asks, standing up from her chair at her computer. She's pretty, all soft skin and bedroom eyes, but Bucky doesn't quite notice due to her overbearing scent filling the space between them.

During his time with Hydra, they did everything they could to prohibit him from smelling or being smelled and anything else that left him more than a weapon of flesh for them to use. Now even the tiniest bit of unpleasant notes within someone's scent slaps him in the face at first whiff.

"Uh yeah, I have a consultation for uh…." Bucky stumbles over his words, half embarrassed to admit what he's here for. "The swan program…."

The beta smiles almost as if she wants to comment on a man like Bucky seeking out such a service. "Of course, can I have your name please?" Of course, someone like her wouldn't understand. She looks perfect, like one of the women on the pamphlet Marie gave him. Bucky wonders if she would still be so confused if she saw his arm or realized who he was.

After getting checked in, the beta sends Bucky up to the 3rd floor to begin his consultation and officially start his matching journey.

"Okay, Miss Y/L/N, we have all the paperwork you submitted before coming into today, but I just need to double-check some things before we get started, okay?" The technician, Anne, asks you as she rolls her wheeled stool over to her computer.

"Sure, of course." You agree, smiling but also nervously picking at the paper sheet between your body and the muted teal examination chair.

"Great!" Anne replies before going over our full name, age, date of birth, blood type, allergies, and the rest of your vital information. "Okay, and we have your designation as omega, and your preference for matches as alpha males unless there are stronger results for beta males, is that correct?" You nod, and she continues down the list inwardly, cringing at yourself, feeling quite vulnerable as you're broken down into a bulleted list. "And we have that you are available for the next available program, which is this weekend, is that correct?"

"Yes, this weekend works great." You nod.

"Great, thank you!" Anne says, typing something on her computer before standing up and putting on some examination gloves. "Okay, so now we can get to the more bio-med-tech part of the consultation. And don't worry, I promise to tell you everything I do before I do it, and none of it should hurt, except maybe a pinch when I take your blood."

"Sounds good." You smile, albeit slightly nervous, as she begins walking you through the process of taking your blood.

"So, do you have any questions about the program?" Anne asks, trying to distract you.

You look away from her and the procedure at hand. "A lot, actually. The program is a little secretive. I'm not really sure what to expect." You confess.

Anne chuckles and finishes, placing a bandage on you and turning to her medical equipment on the desk. "That's understandable, but don't worry. Once you get back here on Saturday, your program guides will tell you everything you need to know. The secrecy is only to prevent other companies from copying our program. It's not scary at all."

"Have you been through the program?"

"Not the Swan program exactly, but I was a volunteer in the trial runs. It's where I met my wife." She smiles. "Okay, now I'm just going to place these little pads attached to these wires on your temples and the scent glands on your neck and wrists, okay? Again it shouldn't hurt at all."

You allow her to place the sticky pieces of plastic onto your skin, calmed by her explanations of each step and openness about the program. "Wow," you smile, "That's wonderful."

"Thank you." She smiles. "Now lie back for me." She guides you to recline in the chair. "Perfect, now you just lay there for the next 15 minutes, and I will be back to unhook you and send you off with all your paperwork."

You lie there looking up at the clouds and scenery painted on the sky, purposefully placed for you to look at during this part of your consultation. You worry about the weekend and all that is to come for you. And after years and years of trying to look for a mate, being largely unsuccessful, and the glimmers of hope turning into hard, bitter memories, you hope this will be it.

At first, the thought of a mate matching program felt ridiculous, perhaps even pathetic, but the more you researched, the more you couldn't deny your interest. With scientific backing and thousands of 5-star reviews late one night, you took the plunge and submitted an application. And now, here you are at your consultation, your last step before entering the official program.

You've completed pages and pages of paperwork outlining your medical history, the details of your personality, and your hopes and dreams of the perfect mate. The consultation you were currently at was to check your vitals to match your profile and collect samples of your scent. Although you didn't know a ton about the actual program, you knew that the company prided itself on its scent technology and data analysis software. Not that you really knew what any of that stuff really meant.

After Anne comes back in and removes the pads from your skin, making sure to take all the sticky adhesive with them, she gives you all of your paperwork regarding what time to be back here on Saturday, where to go, what to bring, etc. before sending you on your way.

You walk out of the examination room and down the hall of the 3rd floor towards the elevator, pushing the button and waiting for the doors to open.

When they do, you step inside and press the down button. You can't help but to notice the lingering smell of an alpha in the small compartment and blush to yourself, thinking that if half the alpha's in the program smell this amazing, you'll have nothing to worry about.

Bucky, who just exited the elevator moments ago, sits patiently awaiting his turn for his consultation with a technician named Anne.

Are you looking for your true mate?

Consider Mate-Tech's newest mate matching program - The Swan Program!

In just one weekend, find the mate you've been searching for using our most successful techniques and cutting-edge technology.

A one of a kind program open to anyone 18 and older, all designations welcome!

Call XXX-XXX-SWAN or go to matetech.com/swan today for more information.

Mate-Tech: Where bonds begin.

No Pressure tags of some friends who might be interested (If you don’t want to be tagged no worries just let me know!): @dadplease // @lavendercitizen // @marc-rogers // @starksbabie // @honeychicana // @mianorth // @the-soulofdevil // @purple-babygirl // @sweet-dreams-steve // @slutforstevie // @stevesbestgirl // @donutloverxo // @hannahshattuck // @selfcarecap // @worksby-d // @saiyanprincessswanie // @tuiccim

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 3 years

Text

An Inconvenient Affection [Chapter 2]

Summary: When a couples’ therapist is suspected of murdering his own patients, Y/N and Spencer must go undercover as a feuding married couple to draw him out.

Chapter Summary: Spencer and Y/N try to prepare during their last week before the mission

A/N: Thank you so much for the incredible response to chapter 1! I love every last one of you! I’ve added everyone who asked to the taglist, I hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: NSFW language, sexual themes, language, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 4.7k

Previous Chapter -- Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

The credits roll at the end of the episode and Y/N makes a move to grab the remote to put on another before Spencer reaches out his hand to stop her.

“Wait Y/N. Have you thought about it?”

“What?” one of her eyebrows hooks as she turns to him.

“Uh, what Derek—” he takes a moment, “What Derek was talking about?”

She knew what he meant, realistically she knew he was going to ask her the second she’d answered Derek’s question. The problem was that she didn’t have a real answer.

“Oh, the whole, ‘our sex lives’ thing?” she puts it in air quotes as she forces herself up from the deep sofa. He just nods in return, somehow both eager and apprehensive all at once as his doe eyes look up at her.

She circles around the sofa to line herself up behind him, her hands making their way to his shoulders instinctively, thumbs digging into the muscles around Spencer’s shoulder-blades harshly. Whether he knows it or not he lets out a deep sigh in response, humming ever so slightly, like he always does when she rubs his shoulders like this.

“By now you’ve gotta know I’m always one step ahead” she jokes, leaning down just a little so she can whisper it to him like it’s a secret. He lets himself drift just a little, the tiredness and the sensation of her fingertips digging into his shoulders relaxing him so steadily that he might fall asleep then and there.

“Wait,” he jolts, “have you?” he reclines his head, resting it on the back of the sofa and looking right up at hers, albeit upside down.

“Well, I’ve thought about it.” She hums, which isn’t strictly a lie, “How about I type up the details and I’ll give you a hard copy in the morning?”

Her hands leave the tense muscles and drift upward to rest on either side of his face. “But for now I think you might need to get some sleep, I ought to head home”

“You can stay here” he says, it’s low, almost to the point that she shouldn’t be able to hear it. She’d done it before, slept on his sofa, it wasn’t a big deal before, why should it be now?

“Pfft, I’m like 10 minutes away” she waves off the gesture, “Plus you’ll be sick of me by next week Mr. Green” she jokes as she heads for the door.

“Never Mrs. Green”

— — —

There was something that felt perverse about typing up a detailed document about her faux sex life with her friend/colleague/husband. By its very nature it felt like an invasive task, made all the more worrisome by how much she found herself imagining the scenarios she was detailing.

How early in their relationship the sex had been nonstop, they could barely keep their hands off each other, but over time things changed etc. Y/N decided she could have a little fun with their fake dynamic, the second bullet-point on the page reads:

I’m the dominant one

And it feels silly, but it feels right at the same time. Spencer had always followed her lead, she was the one that had to invite him to hang out for almost the entirety of the first 3 months of their friendship. Spencer’s never been the ‘take charge’ type, but that’s one of the many things Y/N liked so much about him.

We do still have sex occasionally, but it’s less passionate, less frequent, and less satisfying

She knew that a progression like that could happen in a marriage but it felt almost wrong to think that she would ever tire of Spencer if they were really married. Just imagining him beneath her, hands laced in his fluffy brown curls, was enough to send her into a daze. She had to snap back to the task at hand.

Spencer’s job had gotten more demanding, and I didn’t feel like I was getting the attention I deserved so I looked for it elsewhere

That was believable, well it better be.

— — —

“I’m the dominant one?” He corners her at the coffee machine, placing the file she’d given him down on the granite countertop.

“Mmhmm” she nods, stirring her cup with a thin wooden stick, stifling a smile at what was either annoyance or confusion from Spencer.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He huffs, trailing behind Y/N as she walks away, sauntering to the conference room for a more private place to have this discussion. Placing her coffee down on the round wooden table she leans back against it, bracing her hands on the edge to steady herself. Spencer follows behind, shutting the door softly.

“What it means dear Spencer, is that I’m the one on top” she tries to say it in her best sultry voice but it just comes out as a sort of low giggle.

“I know what dominant means in this context Y/N” he rolls his eyes back and huffs out a short breath, “What I’m confused about it why you get to be the dominant one?”

She almost lets a laugh escape before thinking the better of it, “Why do I— Spence? C’mon!” she can’t really fathom what he’s trying to suggest.

“Are you trying to insinuate that you, Spencer Reid, would be the dominant one in the sack?” she crosses her arms over her chest defensively as she says it.

“Don’t call it that” his face scrunches up but he takes a step closer to her.

“What ‘the sack’?” she lets a small laugh escape this time, “You’re such a softie” her face relaxes as she looks up at him, his expression still hardened, trying desperately to put up a tough exterior. “You’re the type to call it ‘making love’ and it only happens on high thread count sheets by candle light” she jokes.

“Well, what are you then, the type to call it ‘fucking’ and it only happens in the back seat of a car?” he moves right in beside her now, his lips just teetering against the edge of her ear, “or bent over the conference room table.” it was so low it was almost a whisper, hushed and gravely as the words passed his lips.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever even heard Spencer curse before. Even if he was quoting an unsub he’d usually skip over the curse words. It stopped her in her tracks, she almost forgot she’d been trying to tease him, not the other way around.

“I—” her breath was caught in her throat as he pulled back, eyes locking with hers after taking in her flustered face.

“If it’s really that important to you I can change it” she rushes out as she tries to get the rhythm of her breathing back under control.

The corners of his mouth lift up in a smile, not smug, but soft and almost sweet. “That’s alright, you being the one in charge makes sense for our backstory, and I’m sure it’ll agitate Dr. Harris all the more.”

She takes a moment to process the whiplash of the conversation before speaking.

“So why the fuss?” she peers over the top of her coffee mug, taking a prolonged sip.

“I just didn’t know that’s how you saw me is all” he shrugs moving to open the door once again. She couldn’t help but blurt out the question that was dancing on the tip of her tongue before he left and the moment was lost.

“Is that how you see me?” turning to look at her she almost looked worried, and she sort of was, she was playing the part of someone who would cheat on a guy like Spencer but that couldn’t be further from how she actually felt. “As someone who has sex with no emotional attachment?” she elaborates.

His brows furrow with confusion, “God Y/N I never said that!” it comes out soft and soothing as he walks back towards her. “I was just trying to get a rise out of you, I didn’t mean that.” he coos as he wraps her in a warm hug, a gentle hand rubbing up and down her back.

“I didn’t mean it either” he could hear her mumble into the fabric of his shirt, “I was messing with you I’m sorry” she pulls back a little so she can look up at him and her wide eyes were enough to make him melt.

“No need to apologize.” he chuckles, “You were sort of right anyway, I do like soft sheets.” she lets out a proper laugh at that.

They just manage to pull away from each other as Penelope peers her head through the door and rolling her eyes.

“There you are! Hotch has had me running around the office looking for you two newlyweds. He wants to talk in his office, like 10 minutes ago!”

Both of their eyes bulge as they look at each other. No matter how long you’d been at the BAU there was still an ever present fear that came with an invitation to Hotch’s office. They both give Penelope a thank you and race down the hall together, steeling themselves in anticipation of whatever news awaited them behind the door.

“Take a seat” Hotch says as he beckons them in, sorting through a stack of files on his desk before even looking up at them.

“Knowing what we know about this unsub and his propensity for stalking his victims, we think it would be safer and more appropriate if you stayed together in a new location.” he says it so plainly that she’s not sure she’s even understood.

“A new location sir?” she leans forward a little in her seat, and he pushes a small file across the desk, Spencer grabs it first without really thinking about it. He’s pretty sure he already knows what’s in store but it’s got his stomach in knots already.

“We’ve rented an apartment in the city for the two of you to stay in for the duration of this case, fully furnished and stocked. We thought it would be safer in the eventuality that he does watch your movements.”

As Spencer thumbs through the file, memorizing the alarm codes, the street names, he sees something that confirms his fears, ‘one bedroom’. He doesn’t say anything about it as he hands the file over to Y/N for inspection.

“It’s also walking distance from the bar you’ll be working at Y/N, which should give him easy access to your movements when the time comes that we need to establish your infidelity.” Hotch explains, but none of it seems to want to stick in Spencer’s brain, it just floats in one ear and right out the other as he thinks about what the apartment must look like. How small it probably is, how big could that one bedroom possibly be, would there somehow be two single beds, or perhaps they’d thought about it and there was a pull-out couch? He gulps down the lump in his throat as he tries to force the thoughts out of his head.

“When— uh, when do you want us to start staying there?” he asks, his tie feeling suddenly very tight around his neck.

“As soon as possible agents. You should spend some time becoming acquainted with the space and the area, pack up some of your own belongings and get settled in there. We don’t want our unsub to think that anything is out of the ordinary with your living situation.”

“Of course sir, we can start this evening” She says, closing the file and laying it in her lap. It takes everything Spencer has not to snap his head to look at her, she seemed so calm at the proposition. That just made him feel worse, of course she wasn’t thinking about it like that.

— — —

She waits on his sofa, rereading through a hefty file about this unsub, almost absentmindedly taking in the information at this point. Spencer had been rifling through his wardrobe for what felt like hours, packing up a suitcase with his ‘essentials’.

“We can always find a way to get stuff from our apartments if you forget something Spence, it’s not the end of the world” she calls out to him, not looking up from the pages in front of her. “It’s not like it’s going to take months, well, probably not.” she sighs. Something about the idea of being trapped in an apartment with Spencer for months on end sounded both like ecstasy and torture all at once.

“I know, I know!” he groans, dragging his suitcase out into the living room, “I just don’t want to be the one to mess this up, y’know?” she looks up then and he’s towering above her, his hair a mess at the top of his head like he’s been tugging at it for the past hour. But when she grins up at him his frustrated expression softens.

“You’re not going to mess this up, I promise” he nods his head at her reassurance, but it still doesn’t satiate him completely.

“C’mon, let’s get you ‘home’. You can get a start on unpacking while I go and grab my own stuff, sound good?”

He nods again as she places her hand on his back, gently guiding him out of his apartment. He doesn’t even think about it until the door is closed behind him, but that might be the last time he sees his home for weeks.

— — —

“Honey, I’m home!” she calls out into the apartment to no response. Gathering her bag up further from her slipping grip, she kicks the door closed gently with her foot. Dumping the bag on the sofa she roams around the apartment and its precious few rooms. She can hear nothing, but Spencer was here, she’d seen him walk inside.

Before she can think she pulls her gun from the holster hidden on her ankle. Her mind beginning to race at the scenarios that could’ve transpired in the time she’d been gone. What if they’d been followed somehow and she’d just left Spencer all alone. She pushes the thought down deep as she nudges open the bedroom door. It lets out a small whine in the process. There’s no-one there. Walking with achingly soft footsteps she moves toward the bathroom door, before she can reach it the doorknob twitches and the door swings open.

Y/N grips her gun, ready to point it straight into the perpetrator’s face. But instead only a half-clothed Spencer Reid is in her line of fire.

“Jesus Christ!” he yelps at the sight, “Put the gun down Y/N! What are you doing?!” he raises his hands up in defense. He looks ridiculous, a towel wrapped snug around his hips, his saturated hair dripping down his neck and shoulders.

“Y/N quickly discards her gun on the bed rushing towards Spencer and pulling him into a tight damp hug. His hands hang confused in mid air for another moment before coming down to rest on her back.

“You scared me!” she huffs into his ear.

He pulls back in disbelief, “I scared you?! You scared me!”

She just bursts out laughing, “God I’m an idiot” she confesses, “When I came in I called for you but no one responded, I knew you were home but I was scared we’d been followed or something. I thought you were in danger.” she rambles, trying to trace back her own train of thought.

“You thought I was in danger?” his eyebrows furrow together.

“But you were just in the shower” she waves her hand up and down, gesturing to the sight of him.

“Well actually, the bathroom is the most dangerous room in the house! Of the thousands of bathroom-related-injuries admitted to the ER every year, over two-thirds of them are attributed to the bathtub or shower. But good to know that if I’d slipped and fell you would’ve— uh— shot me?” He’s got a cocky expression on his face now, he knows he’s probably pushing it but it might help calm Y/N’s nerves, or at the very least make her laugh.

“Haha, very funny” she balks, stifling a genuine laugh in the process, and snatching her gun back from the bed to tuck it into it’s holster. “Put on some clothes before you catch a cold”

Y/N stumbles out of the bedroom, softly shutting the door behind her to give Spencer his privacy. She lets out a pent up deep breath that had been lingering in her chest since she’d seen his bare torso, and his shaggy wet hair. Her heart was beating faster than she’d like to admit but she could pin that on the seemingly stressful situation right before if Spencer said anything. He had a strange habit of counting her resting heart-rate. She didn’t know how he was that perceptive, but he was.

Y/N took the opportunity to get changed into some sweats from her bag. She took off her ankle holster but brought her gun back towards the living room with her, leaving it on a side table, just in case.

“Still on edge I see” Spencer wanders into the room in his pajamas rubbing a towel against his curls before tossing it into a laundry hamper behind him. “You’re probably not going to need that anytime soon, this guy won’t try to hurt either of us before abducting us, it would break his pattern.” He was trying to comfort her, in a strange role reversal, and it worked a little.

“You’re right, I know you’re right” she nods. Standing up off the sofa to put her gun back in her bag. Telling him she was going to relax.

“Dinner?” She asks.

“You order, I’ll fill the team in” Spencer grabs his phone and settles down into the sofa to make the call.

——

“Do you even know how to bartend?” Spencer pipes up as they finish their food.

“What?” Y/N responds, leaving her empty container down on the coffee table to stretch out along the sofa, letting her legs drape over Spencer’s lap. He gladly accepts them, leaving his own container to one side so that he can rest his hands on the soft cotton of her sweatpants.

“That’s your cover, is that something you know how to do or are you gonna have to learn on the job?”

Y/N sits up a little, propping herself up on her elbows defensively. “Hey I’ll have you know I’ve got plenty of bartending experience” One of his eyebrows quirks up, responding just as antagonistic.

“Well then how come I’ve never heard about it then?” he teases. She swings her legs down, off his lap this time so she can stand up off the couch.

“It was back in my counter intelligence days, it was an old cover I used a few times. If I told you any more about it, I’d have to kill you”

He stands up with her, picking up their containers to bring to the kitchen. “I don’t know if I believe you” he giggles.

As he throws away their trash Y/N starts to rifle through the kitchen cabinets, standing up on her tippy toes to look thoroughly at all of the shelves she can reach.

“What are you doing?” he catches her reaching up for a bottle tucked away on one of the top shelves. He reaches up to pull it down for her, it’s an unopened bottle of gin.

“I didn’t think they’d have the place stocked with any alcohol?” he muses, studying the label, “Maybe they’ve used this place for missions before?”

She snatches the bottle off of him before he can linger on the thought, they were off the clock this evening. There’d be plenty of evenings spent very much on the clock in this apartment, and she wasn’t about to waste this one.

“If you don’t believe me I’m just gonna have to show you” she states like it’s obvious. “Have they got anything else knocking about?” she places the bottle on the countertop, rooting out some glasses from another cabinet.

“Um I think I saw a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator. I don't know how old it is though?” he digs for a minute before he finds the aforementioned bottle tucked in the back, presenting it to her.

“Oh perfect!” she examines the bottle before grabbing a lemon out of the little fruit bowl. They must’ve stocked the place in anticipation of their arrival. “Okay, I’m gonna need a bit of sugar, some ice, and I’m gonna assume they don’t have a cocktail shaker laying about for us?”

He shakes his head, “You assume correct”

She pulls a large glass and a plate from his cupboard and examines them for a moment. “This’ll have to do for now, help me bring all this in” she scoops up some of the supplies in her arms and waits for him to follow her back in the the living room where she's left them all on the coffee table, kneeling down on one side of it.

He joins her, an apprehensive look on his face as he sits on a cushion on the floor opposite her.

“Welcome to my bar” she says, gesturing to the coffee table between them, “what can I get for you sir?” she jokes.

He plays along, looking contemplatively at the few ingredients in front of him before clicking his fingers. “I know, I’ll have whatever your favorite is.” he smiles up at her.

“Excellent choice sir” she begins to assemble the ingredients in her make-shift shaker. Dumping the gin, lemon juice, and sugar in on top of the ice and shaking it gently. She spills a little on the coffee table pouring the mixture between 2 wine glasses and then tops them off with the champagne.

Spencer makes move to grab one of the glasses but it’s only met by Y/N swatting his hand away. She cuts a small segment off the lemon, separating the flesh from the rind and twisting it into a neat spiral, perching one twist on the rim of each glass.

Then she takes one glass and hands it to Spencer, picking up her own and clinking the glasses together. He takes a small tentative sip and his eyes go wide.

“What is that?” he asks, despite the fact that he saw everything that went into it. She takes another swig from her own glass before responding.

“It’s called a French 75, or just a ‘Soixante Quinze’ in French” she explains, “It’s more of a brunch cocktail, and you’re supposed to serve it in a champagne flute, not a wine glass, but you do what you can with what you got” she shrugs.

“Well it’s delicious, maybe I should doubt your skillsets more often” he says thoughtfully, taking in another sip.

“Well making drinks isn’t the only skillset a bartender possesses” he looks at her quizzically. “You gotta be able to talk to people, or let them talk to you I guess. It’s part of the appeal, getting people to trust you, to like you, and maybe a few drinks in you get them to confide in you, slip up and spill something if you’re lucky” she explains.

“You really have done this before” he raises his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“I told ya so, and on that note, tell me what’s on your mind, what brought you in here this evening?” She takes a dishcloth and begins to wipe up the little spill on the table. Spencer just lets out a small chuckle but stifles it when she looks at him. Her eyes are trained on his, awaiting his response.

“Oh! You’re serious.” He takes a beat, “Well, um, I guess my wife and I have been going through a bit of a rough patch lately” he tries his best to make it sound genuine, but something about the bubbles in the drink and Y/N in her sweats opposite him has him feeling a little giddy.

“Oh that’s terrible I’m sorry to hear that” she sympathizes quickly, encouraging him to keep talking.

“Yeah she’s been sleeping around behind my back, should’ve seen it coming really” he takes a long gulp from his glass, staring into the fizz at the bottom.

“What do you mean?” She probes, “Was she the town bicycle before you got hitched?” She says it as a joke but Spencer’s head just snaps up to look at her with confusion.

“What?”

“Everyone got a ride?” She wiggles her eyebrows as she explains and he can only roll his eyes in response, his face screwing up a little with distaste.

“No, nothing like that” he shakes his head, “It’s just something that would happen to me, I’ve never had much luck in that department” he confesses, and it even catches him a little off guard that he says it.

“What do you mean?” she takes a small swig from her own glass and leans in. He seems reluctant to talk at first but after a deep breath he forces himself to continue, this was just a game, it didn’t have to get serious.

“Nothing really, I think it’s just this job, or maybe it is just me, but I can never seem to keep anyone around for very long. Something always gets in the way.” he sighs, taking a large gulp from his drink this time in an attempt to wash the taste from his mouth.

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you” she says, breaking the facade. Reaching out a hand to touch his arm, resting it there gently. As much as he wished it didn’t, her touch soothed him so easily.

“I know this job is stressful, and strange, and takes up a lot of our time, but that’s not going to be an obstacle with the right person”

For a second he wants to tell her that it’s not true, that it really doesn’t feel that way to him. But he pushes those thoughts down. Maybe she could be right, eventually.

“Yeah, I guess so” is all he manages to say though.

“I’m serious Spence, I know the feeling. Like the person who you’re supposed to be with doesn’t— might never come along”

Despite the sentiment she looks at him with a soft smile, “But we gotta hold out hope, don’t we?” he nods at her then, because if he opens his mouth he wont be able to stop himself from telling her how he really feels. And then that would be the end of all of this. And for all of the agony of it, he’d still rather have her as a friend than as a stranger.

“I think it might be bedtime?” she asks, pulling her hand away from his so she can stand up. And his eyes can’t help but watch her as she gathers up the things from the coffee table, bringing them back to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water for each of them.

She moves through the space like she’s already lived there for years, making it her home so quickly. And it makes him think of how this would feel if it were their home. But it’s not, and he’s painfully aware of the double bed that’s waiting for them on the other side of that bedroom door, and he’s just not ready to face it quite yet.

“I think I’m gonna do a bit more reading, make sure I’m ready for our appointment tomorrow” he says, reaching for the stack of files he could pretty much recite at this point.

“Oh, okay.” she doesn’t contest him, she can tell from his body language that he’s a little uneasy, and she can piece together why, she just hoped he wouldn’t stop to think about it.

“Well, come join me whenever you’re done out here, we should be well rested for tomorrow”

“Yeah, of course” he nods, and she knows it’s a lie.

“Night Spence”

“Goodnight”

——

Let me know what you thought about this chapter here <3

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Text

bahamas (i)

ok wasn't gonna post but here we go to set the scene.

wordcount: 2.7k

“What days do we have the Bahamas house, Rafe?” Sophie asked from the opposite end of the couch, her feet in his lap as he watched One Tree Hill. It was a guilty pleasure show she’d introduced him to, and now he was hooked and had knocked out an entire season in a week. She wasn’t paying attention at all and was researching for their vacation, trying to decide the scheduling of everything.

“What do you mean, what days?” He cocked her head at her.

“Isn’t it a rental? I’m trying to figure out flights, what we need to set up.”

“Um...no.” Rafe laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “My family owns it. I figured we could go whenever we wanted, we have the whole week off for break.”

“Right.” She tried her best to ignore the small twist she felt in her stomach - she’d tried over time to just compartmentalize any money talk into thinking it was just his dad’s money, and Rafe just happened to get an allowance sometimes.

It never worked. She had dreams sometimes that involved her checking her bank account, and getting a notification that she overdrafted it by thousands of dollars, just so she could finance a suitable lifestyle to keep up with Rafe so he wouldn’t divorce her in dream-world. She always woke up just before he was about to confront her about money, and every dream involved a different way of her trying to secretly pay things off.

“Yeah. And, uh, I got the plane for us. So we don’t need to book a flight. I thought I told you that back in August.”

She closed her laptop slowly, rubbing her temples. “Right, sorry, I remember.”

“Look, it’ll be cheaper for all of us and we’ll all get there at the same time, it’s kind of dumb not to use it, you know? Plus we can drink on the plane…” He grinned, sliding a hand up her calf. “Join a club on the plane…”

“Rafe.” She fixed him with an unamused glare and he slid his hand back to her ankle, shrugging.

“I’m just saying.”

“You’re really suggesting that with all our friends around? Isn’t this plane kind of small?”

He smirked. “We could test out your exhibitionist kink.”

She snorted, kicking at him. “That sounds like yours.”

“That’s not what you told me when you were drunk last week and trying to get me into the bathroom at Varsity Club. You said, and I quote, ‘we’re both hot, so if someone walks in on us they should be grateful.’ I swear.”

Sophie blushed, covering her face with her hands. “And you still came into the bathroom with me anyways.”

Rafe grinned, leaning over to kiss her. “That’s besides the point.”

She ducked away before his lips could meet hers and threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him back a little. “You’re sure you want to do all this? Instead of just booking a flight, not having to deal with your dad?”

He scowled, leaning his head into her hand instinctually. “Yes, he’s been putting me through hell at work, so it’s fine. I promise, you’ll like it. We can bring all the snacks you want, pack a bag of alcohol for the house instead of having to buy it there. It’s great, promise.”

She frowned, scratching his head lightly. “That’s what you’ve been working on this week?”

He rarely told her about his work with his dad, and tried to let on as little as possible that he was still handling some of the marketing and calling clients for him on the side. He did it when she was in class or in the studio, so she wouldn’t see him working on any of it. Not that it was a secret, but he knew she’d make it a bigger deal than it was to him, turn it into something about him standing up to Ward - something he didn’t have the energy to deal with at the moment. If it made his dad happy, and Rafe got told good job every month or so, that was enough for him.

“Yeah, just some big project I’m helping out with. Not a big deal.” He dismissed it, closing his eyes as he leaned more into her hand.

“Okay…” She let it go, sounding extremely skeptical. “Have you called the therapist Colin’s mom recommended yet?”

“No. Got busy. I will.” Rafe tried to keep his face neutral, then reached out for her as he opened his eyes. “Watch One Tree Hill with me.”

Sophie moved to lay down, letting him lay on top of her with his head rested on her chest. “I think it’d be a good thing for you, baby.”

He hummed in satisfaction, curling one hand around her hip. “Yeah, probably. Dunno, I gotta talk to Colin about it a little bit more.” He laughed quietly, trying to crack a self-deprecating joke. “M’ not the best at sharing my feelings with strangers.”

“I’d go with you, if you want. Or we can, like, practice or something. I don’t know. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.” She encouraged, tracing small circles on his back with her nails.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” He closed his eyes again, despite his request to watch the show. “I’ll do it.”

“Okay.” She dropped the topic, sensing how uncomfortable he was - as soon as she did, he relaxed, almost melting into her. She loved when they were cuddling in this position, but she could usually only get him to do it in the comfort of their rooms when he was a little more vulnerable, a little more clingy. He was heavy and warm, like her own personal weighted blanket with a sleepy, soft smile. “When do you want to leave for break?”

“Might as well on Saturday, if everyone else can?” He mumbled against her chest, sounding sleepier by the second. “We can get back on Friday, so you have time for your lesson plans or whatever. I know you like to chill after a trip.”

“Alright. I’ll ask the girls.” She started playing with his hair again, watching the tension fall from his body. “Go to sleep, baby.”

He just grunted in response, curling his hand a little tighter around her.

_________

Later that day, Sophie broke the news to the girls as they were all cooking dinner together. Once a month, they had a roommates’ dinner with just the three of them, an opportunity to all cook together and catch up. (Rafe had tried crashing the second one, but was promptly kicked out by Julia with a promise of him being allowed to eat the leftovers.) They’d all planned to go to the Bahamas together with Rafe and his friends back in August, but no one had finalized anything yet.

“Wait, seriously? We get to take the private plane to his fucking beach house in the Bahamas?” Julia asked, grinning ear to ear as she sliced up some meat in between sips of wine. “God, I love your rich boyfriend.”

“Please never call him that again.” Sophie winced, clearly a little uncomfortable at the whole notion. “It feels weird.”

“It’s only because you’re not used to it. I’m sure when you’re married, you’ll be -”

“Hold on, when I’m what? Do you know something I don’t?” Sophie asked with wide eyes.

“He’s not proposing, Soph, chill.” Allie chimed in with an eye roll, sliding a frozen loaf of garlic bread into the oven - she wasn’t allowed to do much else in the kitchen after she’d accidentally burnt their lasagna to a crisp once. “Look, I understand it was stressful when you first dated but it’s almost been a year. He has money, get over it.”

Julia snorted at Allie’s frank attitude. “She’s right, babe. You know the drill by now. Look pretty on his arm, let him buy you expensive things, convince him to donate to your favorite charities. Save the world or whatever.”

“He said he wanted to do that as part of my birthday gift, actually.” Sophie confessed, leaning up against the fridge. “Any charity I wanted, preferably one that’ll make Ward’s head spin.”

“See, you’ve got it down.” Julia grinned. “Just think of it this way. When you do get married, you’ll have the coolest bachelorette out there. We should go to Aruba or something -“ she gasped, getting a sudden burst of inspiration. “Destination wedding! Italy!”

“On the coast?” Sophie questioned, like she’d already thought about it (and okay, maybe she had. Once, or twice, or maybe there was an entire Pinterest board set to private. Maybe).

“Yes, oh my god, it’d be perfect.” Julia clasped her hands together as she beamed, excited. “If you break up with him before this happens, I’ll kill you.”

“Jules.” Allie chastised with a roll of her eyes, arranging a platter of cheese into place.

“Why is it me breaking up with him?” Sophie asked with a hint of a grin, reaching over to steal a cheese cube off the plate.

Allie raised her eyebrows as she swatted her hand in reprimand. “Have you seen the way that boy looks at you? I think he’d kiss the ground you walk on if it was clean enough.”

“Sure, okay.”

“No, she’s right.” Julia agreed. She bumped Sophie’s hip out of the way so she could arrange the prosciutto onto the board just the way she wanted, the makings of an enviable Instagram story. “He’s so in love with you, he’s not letting you go any second. I honestly thought he was depressed when we saw him over the summer. But I’m not sure if that was before or after that bitch tried to mack on him -”

“Jules -”

“We agreed not to talk about it -”

“What!” Julia raised her hands in defense as both Sophie and Allie started arguing with her. “I thought we agreed that was her nickname! You said if you got into Columbia, you didn’t want to have to think of her every time you went to Brooklyn.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “That’s fine, but I don’t want to talk about her ever.” She paused, knocking back the last of her wine and helped herself to another glass. “Did I tell you guys she’s in a group project with him this semester?”

“For Professor Nguyen?” Allie asked. She was taking the same class as Rafe, just scheduled at a different time. “We got partnered for that a few weeks ago. Did he not tell you?”

“Not at first, I had to find out through a fucking text that popped up on his phone. And then I was too nervous to ask.” Sophie sighed in annoyance, thinking back to that confrontation. She’d worked up the courage to ask who ‘BR’ was in his phone after she saw another notification from her on his phone in an unlabeled group text, and he had hurriedly explained that they were paired with two other girls in a group project for a couple months, but that they met in the library during peak hours every time they had to, and it was really a low-effort project anyways. Sophie wasn’t happy, of course, but what could she do?

“Fuck her.” Julia proclaimed, grabbing the bread from the oven before it started to burn. “You have nothing to worry about, Soph. I swear. I’ve never had trust in a man until I met Rafe.” She joked, making the girls giggle.

“Colin? James?” Allie questioned.

“Yeah, they’re a package deal, they came after.” Julia dismissed. “Okay, now that we have dates and everything, I need more clothes. Can we go online shopping after this? I got a discount code with Princess Polly again, I want to post a try-on haul.”

“You need more clothes like you need a hole in your head.” Allie quipped, taking the wine bottle into the dining room along with the charcuterie platter. “But yeah. I want a new swimsuit, or three.”

_______

By the time they were all ready to get on the plane, Colin and James had pregamed ahead of time and were halfway to drunk, James a little more so. They rolled up in the Uber with Rafe in the front seat and the two boys leaning on each other in the back, giggly. The girls were already waiting at the airstrip, with Julia sitting on top of her suitcase and picking at her nails, already bored.

“Ladies.” Rafe acknowledged the three with a grin, tucking his arm around Sophie and kissing her temple. “I see y’all made it.”

“Yeah, we’ve been waiting for you.” Julia stood and extended an open hand to James. “Give it.”

He huffed but dug a couple shooters out of his pocket. “Tito’s or Bombay. Take your pick.”

“Fuck you, where’s the tequila?” She accepted the Bombay Sapphire with a scowl, uncapping it and tipping it down her throat.

“That’s my fault.” Colin grinned, pulling an empty bottle out of his pocket. “Rafe said there’s alc on the plane though.”

Allie and Sophie watched the whole exchange with raised eyebrows, unsure. “It’s literally one pm, guys.” Allie said, not withholding the judgment from her voice.

“Whatever, it’s vacation.” James waved her off. “I’m going for the full experience here. Rafe, do we have snacks or something?”

Sophie fished out a grocery bag from her backpack, holding it up. “We’re prepared.” As if on cue, the plane rolled up on the airstrip in the distance just beyond the gate. Rafe beamed, while Sophie resisted a scowl.

Allie gave her a knowing look, but Sophie just avoided her gaze. Rafe frowned, observing the interaction and just squeezed Sophie’s shoulders.

“Ready?” James asked, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder. The rest of the group nodded, strolling toward the plane like it was an everyday occurrence, while Sophie lingered back for a moment.

Rafe followed her cue and glanced over her body language, her slumped shoulders and the way she chewed anxiously on her bottom lip. “Hey. You’re good, baby, it’s just our friends.”

“Yeah, I know, just.” She gestured helplessly toward the plane. “I don’t know. I’m overthinking, sorry.”

“Yes, you are.” He placed both hands on her shoulders in a reassuring gesture. “There’s the pilot and one flight attendant, that’s all, and then we have the whole house to ourselves. My dad’s not on the plane.” He joked, trying to get her to crack a smile.

She gave him a small smile, rolling her eyes. “Okay, okay, quit.”

Rafe beamed and fished a mini bottle of Fireball out of his pocket. “Saved this for you.”

“Aw, how sweet.” She accepted it and took the shot, wrinkling her nose as it burned her throat.

He grinned, taking her suitcase. “Atta girl. C’mon, your plane awaits.” He took her hand, walking up to the plane with her.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group was settled into their seats already, a set of cards spread out on the table ready to play a game of Circle of Death. “You know... this is kinda the ideal situation for joining the mile high club.” James quipped with a teasing grin. He was four shots in and feeling goofy, making a joke about every single thing possible on the plane.

Colin narrowed his eyes, pointing accusingly at him and Julia. “I swear - if you guys hook up again, that is going to ruin our friend group.”

James gaped in faux shock. “But Rafe and Sophie are hooking up!”

“They’re the reason we’re all friends and I don’t think you can call it hooking up!” Colin snapped back, shoving James’ shoulder. “Besides, you said you’d be my wingman at the clubs.”

“What’s going on?” Sophie strode onto the plane, introducing herself to the conversation. “Who’s hooking up?”

“No one!”

“You and Rafe.”

Colin and James spoke at the same time while Julia looked on with an amused glance. “I’m not involved.”

Sophie narrowed her eyes, glancing between all of them. “No sex on the plane.”

“That goes for you too.” Julia smirked, wiggling her eyebrows at Sophie.

She blushed in response, unaware Rafe was right behind her. “We’re not having sex on the plane.”

He looped his arms around her waist, making her flinch in surprise, and rested his chin on her shoulder. “We’re not?”

“Ew, don’t.” Allie interjected and sat next to Julia, setting a bag on the table in between the seats. “James, I brought the rest of the shooters like you asked, but I’m beginning to think you don’t need any more.”

“No, no, here.” He dug a handful out and handed one to everyone, holding his up. “A toast. To the best fucking fall break yet.”

The group all uncapped their bottles, clinking the plastic together. “Cheers!”

taglist: @drewstarkey @lemur46 @jjmaybanksbaby @edgeofgr8 @quxxnxfhxll @obxtess @hoodpankow @vtgirl802 @outerbankies @messagesinthesky @nicolecarsley @svechnikolan @ilovejjmaybank @obxtess @abbyj1822 @oopsiedoopsie23 @g4bster @jjmaybankzz @freddymaybank @dontjinx-it @illbesafeforyou @moniamaybank @tovvaa @jailcalledlife @sunshineitsfine44 @randomficsandshit @outerbankspreferences @outerbanksbro @karsinner @kkmaybank @whoeveniskendall @lemur46 @outerbankies

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #obx fanfic #rafe x sophie #mine

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we-are-inevitable · 3 years

Note

Not really a question but I hope you are doing okay- I didn’t know I needed a football au until now and i’m already hooked! I saw the Davey post for the au, do you have one for Jack that you might want to share?

so i'm assuming you're talking about this post right here, and i would be more than happy to talk about Jack!!

im not rlly gonna talk abt anything that's already said in the au, but i do have a few things that are mentioned and i want to expand!!

alright first of all: latino jack. enough said

at this point everything i write is latino jack but still

ANYWAY he was adopted by medda around the age of 8!! i imagine he went into foster care around ,, age 7, and medda was probably the second foster parent he had. reunification with his family wasn't possible (jack isn't sure who his father is and his mother has passed), and jack seemed to get along well with medda, so she decided to adopt him pretty soon after he came into her care.

life wasn't that easy at first, and he did go to therapy for a while- from age 9 to 11! just to make the transition from a shitty life to a stable life easier, and to give him an outlet. since he was so young, a lot of it was just like,, sitting on the floor and coloring/drawing with his therapist while they talked about how he was feeling.

eventually, though, Medda takes him out of therapy- after talking to his therapist, of course- and signs jack up for the football team as a way to teach him to control all of his extra energy.

obviously this works in his favor, so from 6th grade on, he plays football! he has a lot of wins under his belt!

we all kind of knows what happens when he gets to high-school; the davey rivalry, meeting all of his friends, etc.

he comes out as bi during the summer before senior year, after his mutual breakup with kath.

that was a rlly big step for him, and after that he kind of? opens up more, both in terms of sexuality and not being afraid to be seen as "gay", i guess

i'd be glad to talk about him anytime !! and as for now, here are a few jack-related quotes!

tw: sex mention (in joke form)

Jack shrugs and stuffs his phone in the pocket of his hoodie, though he’s itching to respond to the message. “Nothin’,” He says, then pauses and clarifies, “My ma sent me a text.”

“I don’t know anyone who smiles like that when they get a text from their mom,” Race teases, and nudges Jack’s knee with his foot. “You got heart eyes, Jackie.”

“Did not!"

***

“I don’t want to fuck you, Albert,” Jack says with a sigh as he rubs his forehead, then takes his phone out of his pocket to send a quick little text- just to tell David he’s down to hang out. “And I don’t want to fuck David.”

“Oh, so, you want him to fuck you,” Race concludes, much to Jack’s annoyance.

Jack rolls his eyes, cheeks aflame. “We’re literally just gonna hang out. Might hit the gym, I dunno yet. Maybe go to the field and throw a few passes.”

“Please don’t have sex on the football field.”

“Albert.”

“I have good memories on the football field.”

“Albert.”

“Do not tarnish the football field.”

“I’m not going to have sex on the football field.”

***

His observation comes to an end, though, when David says, without opening his eyes, “I can feel you staring at me.”

Jack’s eyes widen, and his face flushes- he prays it’s not noticeable. Thank you, Mami and Papi, for not being white. “I- I, uh- I just--” He stammers for a moment before shaking his head and abruptly sitting up. “I’m sorry, I just--”

He’s cut off, though, by David’s hand wrapping around his wrist.

“It’s okay,” David says with a light, airy laugh, and a smile so wide his eyes crinkle up a bit. Jack sees how rosy his cheeks are, too, and something tugs in his chest. “You didn’t have to run away like that.”

Jack swallows, his throat dry. “Would you believe me if I said I just… spaced out for a sec, ‘nd started thinkin’ about somethin’ else?”

***

#jack kelly #newsies #football au #davey jacobs #david jacobs #javid #javey #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #ask a jac !#jac writes #jac's sneak peeks

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duelistkingdom · 3 years

Text

you’d come back to me

chapter three: anew

[first chapter] [previous chapter] [master list] [next chapter] [read on ao3]

Summary: Seto Kaiba has been presumed dead for four years after the events of Dark Side of Dimensions. His return causes both unresolved feelings of grief to be brought to the surface and the past to be dragged right back up. In hopes of helping Seto move on and reintegrate back into society at large, Mokuba asks Yugi to work on Spherium II with Seto. Never one to leave a friend hanging, Yugi agrees. Over the course of the project, Seto and Yugi both come to terms with their mutual grief and grow towards a better understanding of each other.

Rating: T

Ships: Yugi Mutou/Seto Kaiba, Mokuba Kaiba/Rebecca Hopkins, Katusya Jonouchi/Mai Kujaku

Warnings: aged up characters, grief, references to suicide

consider supporting me on kofi

“I sold the mansion.”

That was the only explanation Mokuba gave when they drove the wrong way home from the hospital when Seto was eventually released. He supposed as far as explanations go, it was a good one. “Then where do you live?”

“In a one bedroom apartment in downtown Domino,” Mokuba said, texting someone. Whoever it was was labeled as ‘loml’. Who was Loml? The person’s grasp on Japanese was shaky and substituted English words in quotes, leading Kaiba to believe Loml was probably foreign. Mokuba had texted that he had picked up Seto. Before Seto could read further, Mokuba pulled the phone out of his line of sight. “Stop reading my text messages or I’ll drop you off at a hotel.”

“Maybe I’d prefer a hotel,” Seto grumbled. He was annoyed that it had taken so long to discharge him. He wasn’t sure why they felt the need to keep him for observation for almost a month. “I don’t see why I have to sleep on your couch.”

“The doctor thinks that you would heal better under supervision from family, since your concussion didn’t heal as well as it should have,” Mokuba countered, exchanging a glance with Isono briefly. Seto still thought the doctor had been off base for insisting that his concussion was still persistent. As far as Seto was concerned, he’d already healed. He felt great. He was certain Mokuba was keeping something from him, but he didn’t know what. “Plus… I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to be alone.”

“And as for why I can’t drive?”

“Your license expired while you were gone,” Isono interjected, another shared glance with Mokuba that frustrated Seto. “You will need to get a new one, Mr. Kaiba.”

“Things like that tend to happen when you’re gone for four years, bro,” Mokuba said, the word “bro” sounding a little strained. Seto hadn’t wanted to notice before that Mokuba seemed a little stiffer than he used to. He noticed now. It was impossible to not notice the way Mokuba was trying so hard to pretend like four years hadn’t disappeared. Every time the missing years were mentioned, Mokuba tried to change the subject. Mokuba forced a grin. “Means you got a lot of catching up to do!”

He didn’t know how to respond to that so he didn’t.

The apartment complex Isono drove them to was clean and modern. It was also a lot more vertical than he would have thought when Mokuba had mentioned living in a one bedroom apartment. He wasn’t certain what he’d expected, but the building looked more like a skyscraper than a place of residence. “I’ll take care of making sure Mr. Kaiba’s things get here,” Isono said to Mokuba. “For now, you should make sure he gets settled.”

Mokuba nodded. “Thank you, Isono,” he said as Isono parked the car in front of a set of elevators. “Come on, bro. The elevators will take us right outside my door.”

“Is that safe?”

Mokuba laughed as he pulled out what looked to be a key card. “You can only get to the floor if you have a key,” he said. “I’ll have Isono get you a key later.”

The elevator doors slid open and Seto was taken aback by how industrial it looked. He followed Mokuba’s lead, though. It was strange to think of Mokuba living in a place like this by himself. Why did he sell the mansion? Was it just too tied to bad memories? Had he always wanted to sell the mansion? A bunch of questions that Seto had no answer for and had no intention of voicing aloud. Mokuba swiped a card that had “home” written on it in someone else’s handwriting and pressed a button for the fifteenth floor. That was high up. It was also… Seto pushed the thought aside.

The entranceway to Mokuba’s front door was grandiose, too. A couple of plants surrounded them on slick marble tiles and a picture of the Golden Gate bridge existed to his left on linen white walls. To his right, a bunch of pictures of various horses were all over the wall with gold placards underneath that he didn’t bother to read. He noted the source of light - a glass chandelier with gold trim. A couple of photos of Mokuba with Yugi and his friends, a couple pictures of a blonde girl that looked a lot like Rebecca Hopkins with her arm thrown around Mokuba… though… When did Mokuba start to like horses so much? Has he always liked horses? He didn’t have long to process the photos when his brother opened the door to the foyer. Natural light from the windows drifted right into the foyer, illuminating that the place was spotless.

It opened right into the living room, which had a massive L shaped couch in front of a large TV. The TV had a lot of game consoles hooked up to it, Seto noted. Another thing he noted was that it seemed like the place was designed to entertain guests. The foyer opening into the living room was just the start of it. The only thing that separated the living room from the kitchen to the left was a bar that had fresh cut flowers and bar stools lining it. Wine glasses hung above the bar and seemed to have a lot of light sources. There was a spiral staircase by the kitchen that led right up into a lofty area above them. “The room’s upstairs,” Mokuba said quietly as he hung his key on a rack. “There’s a guest bathroom over there,” Mokuba remarked as he pointed to a hallway to the left. “But it doesn’t have a shower, so you’ll have to use the shower in my bedroom. Don’t use the bathtub.”

A strange request but Kaiba felt no need to pry. “So you don’t often have people stay the night?”

“Wouldn’t say that,” Mokuba said. “C’mon, I’ll show you where the shower is.”

Once again, he was following Mokuba. There was a series of framed photographs on the wall on the way to the bedroom. One appeared to be a picture of Professor Hopkins and Sugoruko Mutou but… maybe a few years younger? Why would Mokuba have this? A photo of Mokuba with Rebecca Hopkins from the KC Grand Prix was prominently framed in the center of the hallway. In fact, it seemed like all the photos were designed to draw the eye to this one photo. Perhaps his friendship with Rebecca was much closer than Seto had originally thought. Then again… he hadn’t really been paying attention.

Mokuba opened the bedroom door and once again, natural light streamed everywhere. An ornate desk sat in front of the windows with a stack of engineering books and sticky notes that seemed much taller than he would think possible. A bookcase was next to it with thick, heavy textbooks that had pieces of paper sticking out of each of them. One of the shelves had multicolor binders in no particular order that Seto could see. In the middle of the room was a large, ornate, king sized bed with two oak nightstands on either side. One was just as messy as the desk, with a leather bound journal resting on top of the mess with a cup of pens near it. He was surprised the lamp on that nightstand hadn’t been knocked off by the mess. The other was neat with a single lamp on it. Seto frowned as he noted the size of the bed. “Why would you need a bed this size?”

“I mean,” Mokuba said, looking a little awkward before turning away to lead Seto towards another door, “it’s not just me sleeping there.”

Seto frowned, following Mokuba through the new door into the bathroom. Once again, it seemed a little bit much. Two sinks. One sink free of clutter, the other with a toothbrush, a hairbrush, and an eyelash curler left out. “Who else would sleep here?”

“My girlfriend,” Mokuba said as he gestured towards the shower. “Here’s the shower. Towels are in there,” he remarked as he pointed towards a plain white cupboard. “There’s also extra toilet paper. Don’t use her towels. You’ll know they’re hers because they’re all monogrammed with her initials.”

“Right. Those photos of that Hopkins girl.” Seto frowned. “It must be serious if she’s living with you.”

“It is rather serious.” Mokuba seemed on the verge of saying something else but shrugged it off. “Rebecca’s rather finicky with her things. Don’t use them. Anyway, I'm going to leave you to take your shower cause I should get back to work. Isono will be around to check on you and Rebecca should be home when she’s done with her classes. Be nice to her.”

“I see you decided to come back.”

Seto glared at Dr. Reiki. It wasn’t that Seto had decided to come back. “My brother seems to think that before I can be cleared for work, I need to attend these sessions,” Seto said, crossing his arms and glancing out the window. This time, he did not care about whatever game Reiki was playing. He wanted to make it as clear as possible that he did not want to be here. “Thus, here I am.”

“So the only reason you are here is to be cleared for work?”

Once again, the doctor had taken to making this seem like a game. It was impossible for Seto to tell how Dr. Reiki felt about his statement. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond. “Tch,” Seto said as he looked away from the therapist. “I suppose so.”

“I see. If that’s the case, then tell me about your relationship with Mokuba,” Dr. Reiki said, leaning back in his chair. Seto hated that Reiki always seemed so at ease within these four walls while Seto struggled to find his footing. “I know I’ve spoken with Mokuba already but…. I am curious as to how you’d describe it.”

Seto arched his brow at the doctor. “Fine,” he said, carefully choosing his words. “When our parents died, we were shuffled around from relative to relative. None of them wanted extra mouths to feed. They were more than happy to spend our inheritance, however. They kept that but dumped us at the orphanage. I knew it was my responsibility to look after Mokuba because no one else would. I… made mistakes in raising him. I know that now. I regret how harsh I was. I… only meant to protect him.”

He cut himself as he registered Reiki taking notes. Reiki looked up when Seto stopped talking. “Don’t worry about the notes, Seto,” he said. Kaiba squashed down the desire to demand that Reiki be more formal. “This is part of the standard procedure to clear any patient to return to work. Please, continue.”

“Right,” Seto said, glancing up at the degree that Reiki held again. It was from Harvard. He supposed it made sense that Reiki went to a western school for this line of work. This did, in fact, relax Seto a little bit. At least his therapist was the best. “It was just Mokuba and I after my adoptive father died. Only Mokuba really knew the truth of what happened while everyone else…”

“Everyone else…,” Reiki prompted when Seto trailed off. Seto glared at him and glanced around. “This is a safe space, Seto. Nothing you say will leave these four walls.”

“Everyone else believes I killed my adoptive father,” Seto admitted, leaning back, leaving out the fact that there were days when he wished he had. He doubted that would help in his quest to be cleared to go back to work. “Mokuba knows that isn’t true. Still, he knew it was true that I could be, can be… Ruthless. Some people considered me to be cold and calculative, so the rumor persisted. Still persists, truthfully.”

Seto trailed off again, wondering if he was saying the right things. It was difficult to strike a line here. He still had no idea what Reiki was after to clear him for work. The therapist offered no hints.

“It makes sense that you were ruthless. Public record states that you became president of Kaiba Corp when you were only 15,” Reiki remarked. “You must have had to be cutthroat. I would imagine there were plenty of people seeking to take advantage of your youth and naivety - something you more than likely couldn’t afford. Tell me, how did you feel about those rumors?”

For a moment, Seto was dangerously close to answering. Before he admitted to anything, Seto caught himself. “What does this have to do with me getting cleared for work?”

Reiki’s mouth twitched into a smile. “In order to be certain you’re ready to return, I need to get a feel for what your work history is. How you see the company and how it affects you,” he said and Seto resented that he sounded like he was trying to coax a deer to him. “After all, the concern is that work might do more harm than good right now.”

Seto considered this for a moment. Finally, he gave a soft “tch” before crossing his arms. “I didn’t appreciate them,” Seto admitted. “It seemed like everyone was more concerned about the potential soap opera than the fact that I’d been orphaned again. My adoptive father was not a good man and do not misunderstand me, I am not saddened by his death. However… no one seemed to care that I was fifteen and without a father again. That left me, to be a CEO and president of a multi billion dollar corporation, and a father to my younger brother.”

“You considered yourself to be the parent?”

“I had to,” Seto sniffed. “There was simply no one else who would. So I had to step up to the plate to make sure Mokuba was taken care of.”

Reiki frowned as he glanced over his notes. “I will admit that makes sense as a motivation,” Reiki said slowly. “What I’m having trouble understanding is why did you abandon him for four years if you felt that it was your duty to be a father Mokuba? Could it be that perhaps you were following the only model for a father you had?”

Seto bristled. “I did not intend to leave him for four years,” Seto hissed. “That was the result of an error in programming. I was supposed to return mere moments after I left.”

The therapist nodded again and jotted something else down. Again, Seto longed to know what the therapist was writing. He badly wanted to correct anything Reiki may have misunderstood. “Well. I think we have made some decent progress today,” Reiki said. “How about we meet again in two weeks?”

As much as Seto wanted to argue, he wound up agreeing instead.

Yugi had been staring at the code for the AI for the past few hours now. He’d clipped his hair up earlier in a desperate attempt to keep his bangs out of his face. They still liked to land in front of his face. He’d figured it was safe to work on this project now because Mokuba was out picking up Seto. From what, Mokuba never said. He wasn’t expecting Mokuba to come back to work.

It’s why he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard, “So you know about the AI project Seto was working on before he left.”

For a moment, he wanted to ask how Mokuba knew about it. It was a stupid question. Obviously Mokuba knew more about what Seto had been doing before he left than Yugi ever did. Yugi sighed and nodded. “I stumbled across it a few weeks ago,” Yugi admitted, leaning back in his chair. The code was more complex than he was used to. “Why did Kaiba make it so you have to duel it to leave that room?”

Mokuba sighed, resting against the wall. Yugi thought it was greatly unfair that Mokuba shot up to six foot while Yugi was still stuck at five foot eight. He remembered when Mokuba was only barely shorter than him by an inch. Then again… he also remembered when Seto was willing to die for Mokuba. Willing to traumatize him to save Mokuba. It seemed to Yugi that a lot had changed in Seto. “He was obsessed,” Mokuba said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to shut it down… it was the last thing Seto made before…”

When he trailed off, Yugi couldn’t fault him. Mokuba had managed to deal with the fact that Seto had vanished off the face of the Earth for the past four years. The cracks in Mokuba’s facade were easy to see through but Yugi didn’t want to press. As much as Yugi wanted to help, he knew that it would be better to let Mokuba come to terms with his feelings before unpacking them. “It’s okay,” Yugi said. “I imagine it wasn’t supposed to be easy to find.”

“You know, all the people that had been working on it thought it was supposed to be of you,” Mokuba said suddenly, a light smile as if this was deeply hilarious. “One of them asked me why he didn’t just go down the street and ask you for a duel. Another asked if you were actually that ripped.”

Yugi laughed, shaking his head. “I mean, if they want to believe I look that good,” Yugi said, trying to keep the conversation light. “I was just… noting the differences between how the AI acted and how Atem… actually acted.”

“Seto insisted it was perfect,” Mokuba said, folding his arms over his chest and closing himself off. Turns out, there was little difference between the Kaiba brothers when they were distancing themselves from him. “It was based on his memories of how the Pharaoh acted.”

“Atem,” Yugi corrected, a knee jerk reaction. “That explains why it’s not… it doesn’t act like Atem,” Yugi said with a sigh. “Kaiba never saw Atem outside of a Duel. I did. He… he was conflicted. Complex. He carried a lot of guilt with him. He…” Yugi trailed off as he noted the look on Mokuba’s face. While there was little chance he’d shown his hand, Mokuba still looked sympathetic. Yugi’s face burned as he realized that no matter how much he moved on, the fact remained that he still loved Atem and it must have shown in how he spoke about Atem. Yugi was certain that some part of him would always love Atem. It was unimportant to this conversation, however. “It was just a lot to see something look so much like Atem and almost act like him but… not quite him.”

“You could fix it,” Mokuba noted, a cautious note in his voice. The statement hung in the air before Mokuba added on, “However.... It would be smarter to just leave it, right?”

Yugi nodded thoughtfully. He could, indeed, work with Mokuba and learn the coding behind the AI. He could certainly adjust the AI so it acted more like Atem. All these things were absolutely possible. However… “If Kaiba duels this AI again,” Yugi said slowly, an idea forming in his head, “I could change its deck. I mean, it’d be more like Atem in that sense. Atem and I always built our deck together. So the real way to start fixing how the AI acts is… for me to build it a new deck. Right?”

A grin split across Mokuba’s face. “Yugi, are you suggesting that we fuck with it?”

Yugi turned to look at the AI’s code before nodding. “I am absolutely suggesting that we fuck with it.”

Seto was trying to figure out what he should do since Reiki had refused to clear him to work again. He browsed a few Dueling sites to kill time. He knew that things had to have changed since he left. He knew that the meta for Duel Monsters most likely was different and if he wanted to keep up, he’d have to look into the new strategies.

This was, of course, just a distraction. He didn’t want to check his email. His old burner account had to be worthless by now so he set up new burner account. He was annoyed to discover the user “saggithedarkclown” was taken and the person who owned it wouldn’t give it up without payment.

After a minor argument with himself, he bought the username while mentally cursing them for taking the username in the first place. He supposed the real joke was on him for actually paying for it, though. From there, he was able to poke around at the current meta and see what had changed.

As much as the format of the game had changed, it would seem that Yugi was still the undefeated champion. Still the King of Games. There were a couple photos of Yugi at previous exhibition matches with similar determined expressions and the same leather pants he remembered Yugi wearing at Battle City. Or well… the other Yugi, anyway. Additionally, it seemed like people now paid money to view Yugi’s various decks. Seto didn’t know how he felt about that.

He noted the new support cards for his deck and was disgusted to see that Pegasus had reprint the Blue Eyes White Dragon cards during his absence. It felt almost mocking. As if the minute he turned his back, Pegasus took advantage. He knew it was a ridiculous reaction. They were, after all, the intellectual property of Industrial Illusions and Pegasus was free to reprint whatever he saw fit. It still did not make Seto feel any better about it.

There were also new methods of summoning. He’d found a couple videos of Jonouchi, Yugi, and Mai all using the new summoning methods. He’d have to figure out how they worked. Synchro vaguely reminded him of ritual summoning so that might be the easiest to pick up. As for XYZ and Link, however, Seto couldn’t exactly figure them out. As far as he could tell, special summoning was now a major component of the game.

The deeper he dove, the more he learned about tournaments in the previous four years. It seemed that somehow Jonouchi managed to become a competitive giant. Another thing Seto didn’t know how he felt about. Jonouchi, when Seto had left, was merely a mild irritant who was not as good as he or Yugi. He’d missed seeing a former annoyance climb his way through the ranks. It was a strange thing to realize.

He also noted that Yugi’s last real tournament entry was two years ago. His victory was a surprise to no one. Seto noted that Yugi seemed a little distracted when he won. He wondered what Yugi was thinking at that moment.

Seto was fixating. He wanted to know why Yugi had stopped entering tournaments. Did he think himself too good to Duel? If Seto entered a tournament, would Yugi enter? Did Yugi feel he had nothing left to prove? That would make sense, after all.

A ping pulled him out from his distraction. A message from someone using the handle “kc_blimp” was left on one of his posts about wanting to get back in the game after a three year break . He was surprised to see that the user had left a long and in depth explanation about the new summoning mechanics. He’d have to test them out himself. He was also surprised to see the user noted that Duels tend to be faster with ten turns being “long duels” by modern standards and to expect stall techniques to not work as well as they did four years ago. How much had the game changed in his absence?

Unfortunately for him, there was only one way to have some of his questions answered. He sent the user a private message,

He got a phone call from Pegasus, which he ignored.

For the past few months, Seto had not once seen Rebecca. He knew she came home occasionally because every single time Rebecca had been in the apartment, there would be a messy table left behind. Rebecca had no concept of how to keep a room clean and it was slowly driving Seto crazy.

The door unlocked and Seto expected to see Mokuba enter. He was not expecting to see a blonde woman that was wearing a denim skirt, a bright blue shirt, and a blue headband walk in. She seemed to be carrying dozens of paper bags and had a heavy looking backpack slung on one shoulder. “Oh, hi, Seto,” she said, kicking the door closed with one of her sharp looking heels. “Are you going to just stand around or are you going to help me with the groceries?”

At first, Seto was appalled by the gall of this woman to just walk into the apartment and address him by first name. It took a moment for him to realize that yes, this was indeed Rebecca Hopkins. She… expected him to help? “Why didn’t you get Isono to take care of that?”

Rebecca sighed as she dumped the bags on the dining table and tossed her backpack right at him. It hit him in the stomach and he nearly doubled over. How did she carry this? The bag felt like it weighed as much as she must. “Unlike you, I do not expect others to take care of me,” she said as she began unloading one of the bags. He was surprised to see so many processed snacks. There was no way Mokuba ate that crap, right? “Seriously, are you going to help or what?”

“Why did you buy so many chips,” he said, alarmed as he set the backpack down then headed over to examine the groceries. At least one bag had vegetables and another had fruits in it, thankfully. The next bag was full of sweets, however… “You don’t need this much sweets.”

“How the fuck do you think I’m going to get through this bitch of a thesis paper,” Rebecca retorted, looking at him as if he’d asked her if Luster Dragon was a normal monster. “Not all of us get handed a company at fifteen, you know. Some of us actually have to work for what we get.”

He was surprised at how blunt she was. This was the girl that Mokuba was dating? She seemed a little rude. No, that was putting it too nicely. Rebecca Hopkins was an absolute nightmare. Had she always been like this? He answered his own question when he remembered that of course she was nasty - she was American. He was surprised at how well she spoke Japanese, however. “Since when did you know how to swear in Japanese,” Seto asked. The last time he’d seen her, her go to choice of swear words was ‘goddamn’ in English peppered into badly spoken Japanese. “Why are you here in Japan?”

“I’m getting my PhD in Engineering from the University of Tokyo,” Rebecca said, rolling her eyes as she put the chips in one of the cupboards.

Seto had never opened any of the cupboards in the kitchen. He was surprised to see they were organized. He was even more surprised that Rebecca was following the system the kitchen had.

“I have to know how to speak Japanese in order to attend,” she went on, “considering all my professors speak it. And Mokie taught me.”

Mokie? Did she refer to his brother with a cutesy nickname? Seto was appalled by her. “Sorry, did you say your PhD?” Seto asked as realization set in “Aren’t you nineteen?”

“I started college when I was thirteen.. And I’m actually twenty, so show some respect,” she said, her bright blue eyes glancing up at him sharply and rather dismissively. “Seriously, if you aren’t going to help put things away, why are you here? The meat goes in the fridge, the sweets go in that cupboard, the dips go over there, the wine goes in the wine cooler. Hurry up!”

Since she clearly wasn’t going to let this go, Seto took the bag full of fish, chicken, pork, and what appeared to be a well-marbled steak. Did she cook? She didn’t seem like the kind of person who cooked. He opened the fridge for the first time and noted it was neat. Considering how Rebecca’s desk and nightstand looked, Seto could only deduce either someone was hired to cook or Mokuba cooked. He didn’t know if Mokuba could cook. How could he not know if his brother cooked or not? He made a mental note to avoid mentioning this to his doctor during his next check up, lest they subject him to more tests again. “You do all the grocery shopping?”

“Sometimes Mokie does it since he does all the cooking,” Rebecca said as she started putting away the wine. “But since he’s busy with work, I thought I’d make life easier for him and pick up the groceries. Plus… his birthday’s coming up! I wanted to do something nice for him.”

Mokuba’s birthday was coming up? Had he been back in this world for that long already? He hadn’t bothered keeping track of the days. If Mokuba’s birthday was coming up soon enough for her to be thinking about it… it would have to be June, right? He didn’t want to ask. “So what are you doing for his birthday?”

“Don’t worry about me, worry about you,” Rebecca said, her hands planted on the table as she glared at him. “What did you get him to make up for what you did?”

Seto was taken entirely aback. He wasn’t expecting to meet Rebecca today, much less be confronted about what he’d done. He was nervous now. Were Rebecca’s eyes always this icy? He didn’t know it was possible for one person to look this cold. “Er,” Seto said, stumbling over himself. He looked away from her harsh gaze. “I didn’t get him anything.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “You can pick up the cake, then,” she said, as if it wasn’t up for discussion. He certainly wasn’t about to interject that he didn’t know how to pick up a cake from a bakery. He always had Isono deal with that sort of thing. “I’ve been planning Mokie’s birthday for the past three months and you are not about to ruin it by showing up empty handed. I’ll email you the information about the bakery and where to go.” With that, she’d finished unpacking the rest of the groceries. Seto had barely helped at all but that didn’t seem to matter. She picked up her backpack, tossing it over her shoulder, and moved toward the stairs. “I’m going to go do my homework. Don’t bother me.”

He wouldn’t dream of it.

For the most part, Mokuba really was okay. He swore it up and down to anyone who asked. But there was a strange feeling in his heart when he looked at his brother. It was like he was being ripped apart to see him looking exactly as he did four years ago when he told him “you’re in charge, Mokuba” before leaving him. He wiped away the tears.

He was okay. He would make himself be okay, he thought idly as he glanced at the mirror in the private bathroom attached to his office. Kaiba Corporation CEOs did not cry, he reminded himself. They did not let things like this tear them down. He held himself high, adjusting his tie.

He knew what Yugi would say.

That it was okay to cry. That it was okay to be upset. Well, Yugi was wrong. Mokuba couldn’t let anyone see that this rattled him. He’d seen how Kaiba Corporation CEO’s were supposed to act and he would follow it to the letter even as it ripped him apart. He left the bathroom, striding with purpose. Showing weakness would be the same thing as death.

Rebecca knew something was wrong. She always seemed to know when Mokuba wasn’t okay. Thankfully, her classes kept her busy and he never had to face how he really felt for too long. If she was around more often, she might have demanded that he actually go see a therapist again. He’d been doing so good that he hadn’t needed it. Though, to be fair, he’d already insisted prior that Kaibas don’t go to therapy. He almost grinned thinking about how she’d reacted to that.

Despite this, when Yugi had discovered the AI, it changed a lot of things. For one, he now spent extra time trying to pick apart the code with Yugi in Yugi’s office. It was far more complex than anything he’d ever seen and he was amazed Yugi could even keep up.

Yugi had already proven himself an intuitive coder, though. He supposed it would make sense that Yugi would be smart enough to figure out the strange lines of code. “I think this right here is supposed to be based on one of the Battle City duels,” Yugi said with a frown as he examined a complex string of code that seemed to be its own thing. “Kaiba doesn’t like to organize his codes, does he?”

“I think it is organized,” Mokuba said, sitting down in one of the chairs in Yugi’s office. He ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to work through lines. The flags for the reactions seemed to change on their own, as if the code itself was alive. Or maybe Mokuba was finally going crazy. He and Yugi had already spent so long trying to figure out how to adjust just one facet of the AI’s personality that Yugi had noted was off. “It’s just in a way we haven’t figured out yet.”

“So the solution is to think like Kaiba,” Yugi said with a defeated sigh. Mokuba didn’t get why that seemed to be a problem for Yugi. There was once a time when Yugi could easily dissect his brother and accurately deduce what he was thinking. Unless… unless maybe he was mixing up Yugi and Atem again. “If I were Kaiba and I wanted to build a complex AI that could think for itself while dueling… I might…” Yugi’s brow furrowed. “Hm… what if the reason that’s off is because…”

Yugi did something and strangely, the code jumped down several lines in response. Mokuba sat up straighter as he examined the new spot they were in. “He attached that reaction to that,” Mokuba remarked, a little stunned. “Why would he do that?”

“Same old Kaiba,” Yugi remarked. “I think he may have put a lot of important flags behind the Dueling operation. He really did only intend to use this as a Dueling simulator, huh?”

“Before he left, he was planning on creating a virtual world in which Duelists could enter and challenge virtual Duelists. The project was basically complete but never went past the beta stage,” Mokuba remarked, fiddling with the code just a little bit more. He didn’t know if what they were doing was wise but he knew that if they could make improvements… maybe they could follow up on a project Seto left behind. “A way for everyone to enjoy the game and get better at it. Do you think that it might be a problem if we…”

“Probably,” Yugi said with a shrug. “But if we’re going to give it new decks to play against Kaiba, we need to make sure that the AI can play them optimally.”

“And you don’t think this code could do it?”

He felt offended on behalf of his brother. Yugi had to know that Seto had poured everything into this program. It was supposed to perfectly replicate Seto’s memories of Atem. He was annoyed when Yugi shook his head. “This code’s missing what made Atem such a good Duelist,” Yugi said, a light grin across his face. “A bit of me.”

“This code is designed to perfectly replicate Atem as Seto remembers him and Duel with his exact strategies,” Mokuba said, well aware it wasn’t the best defense of the code. After all… he had to admit that no one knew Atem like Yugi did. “Are you saying Seto doesn’t remember how Atem duels?”

“No,” Yugi said, an odd look crossing his face. “Kaiba dismissed me as a potential rival, remember,” Yugi said, and Mokuba vaguely remembered that. “He probably didn’t think that I contributed much to those Duels, I guess. But we can fix that.”

Mokuba figured that if anyone could fix the AI, it would absolutely be Yugi.

#fic: you'd come back to me #sorry i fell asleep instead of posting the next chapter on time #but hello it is here #rivalshipping #rivalshipping fanfic #myfanfic

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kewltie · 4 years

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cosplayers bakudeku, where katsuki is famous for his really flashy, overly detailed and complicated cosplay at cons and izuku is a nsfw cosplayer who doesn't do cons but is super huge online. katsuki snubs that kind of low level cosplay bc he thinks it’s trashy and beneath him. then their fandom collides at the biggest con in japan bc izuku promised once he got 5mil follows on twitter he'll do a meet up and katsuki who plan to have the most intricate and best cosplay that year at the con... completely got upstage by a bunny boy in skimpy costume and he's FUCKING PISSED.

despite the fact that Izuku mainly produce is lewd and suggestive content in his cosplay, izuku rarely show his face in his photoshoot except only to his highest tier patreons. he often comes off as bold and confident on camera but irl izuku is a mess of anxiety and insecurity. heavily bullied growing up, he came to hate himself and his own skin bc he never felt good on it. his therapist suggested he start taking photos of himself daily to boost his confidence bc if he's able to take control of how he look and present himself to the world it's a first step.

it started small. just a casual selfie each day as soon as he wake up, no prep and no care. he just want to get it out of the way. then he started to rearrange outfits to go w/ his photos. he moved to posing next and then he bought an expansive camera just to take photo of himself. izuku's insecurity didn't get overcome overnight but lil by lil the boy in the photo blossomed from a gloomy unsmiling face to a handsome bright young man. that was how izuku fell in love w/ the camera and the boy in the photo bc he might not love himself yet but he love the *him* in those photos bc they don’t feel like it’s actually him.

once he got into it, he was hooked. he wanted to take better photos of himself, in outfits he normally doesn't wear (a lil more showy and skin), and in setting outside the walls of his bedroom. he wanted to look good bc it made him feel good about himself. it made him come alive. so he set himself up to learn everything that can help him get better photos of himself. like, he cant keep buying and reusing old clothes in his photo so he learned how to sew. and he knew nothing about how to do make up so he took to watching makeup tutorials!! izuku wasnt interest in styling or makeup previously but in the pursue of the perfect photo of himself he actively consumed every piece of knowledge that came his way. that's eventually how he stumbled upon momo's cosplay youtube chn, watching her tutorials on how she went from the start to finish with one of her more famous cosplays.

that vid opened up a whole new world for him, that there are ppl out there dedicating their time and energy into making elaborate costumes and props just to be someone else, something other than themselves and they were all so beautiful. at that moment izuku realized he could just be someone else for a change--boy, girl, monster, alien, animal, doesn't matter who it is as long as the person isn't him. it was ok. NOT THE MOST HEALTHIEST mentality but it worked for izuku. he followed all of momo's tutorials and started to get into cosplay. it was just something small to help him work on his anxiety and insecurity, but it warped into something that consume him bc cosplay empowered him to do more. TO BE BETTER. be brave in the way he doesn’t quite feel yet.

it started as something mainly for himself and his battered self-confidence but one day momo made a comparison tweet about her earlier cosplay and her current one, how ppl improve everyday and that they shouldn't be afraid to push the envelope and try new things!!!! so izuku, feeling strangely brave for once, bit the bullet and post a single photo of himself in one of his selfmade costume of him in his now (INFAMOUS) bunny ears boy in short. his twitter had no post before the photo and he only followed momo's acc. it was completely barren.

he wasn't even anybody noticeable and momo had MILLIONS OF FOLLOWERS so izuku won't even register on her radar at all. he went to bed that night a lil happy w/ himself for being that brave but then he woke up the next day and his phone LITERALLY BLEW UP bc momo rtwted his photo.

now izuku's amateur photo got exposed to millions of ppl and gained several thousands new followers literally OVERNIGHT. izuku's nerves went haywire at the thought of everyone looking at his photo and seeing the cracks, his flaws, all over him. he couldn't bare the thought of ppl judging him but momo not only followed him but even said: "you looks so cute and sultry<333! wonderful cosplay work!" and the comments he received from her fans where all kind and encouraging and they want to MORE. izuku never felt so out of place and yet so strangely right where he should be.

this was his turning point. drumming up every drop of courage he has, he'd dm her and they started a friendship that launched izuku's career as pro cosplayer. w/ momo careful guiding hands, izuku learned the trade by a senior in the industry. the kinds of photo he take didn't start as uh, nsfw, but it kinda end up that way?? bc the photos he take are THE TOTAL OPPOSITE OF WHO HE IS—it makes him feel strong and confidence in a way that he doesn't always feel irl like the person in the photo is just a little braver to show a sliver of skin, to pose suggestively, and to make that kind of sultry face in front of the camera. THAT PERSON IS HIM BUT ALSO ISN’T HIM.

cosplay is similar to a theater, when izuku wears his costume he is shedding his own skin and donning a mask to be someone else. that person is the person he wishes he can be, the person he potentially can be if only a little bit. and w/ cosplay even if it's just a moment, just a flash of the camera and only in the photos he take, he can live on unafraid and untouched by reality of his anxiety and fears.

KATSUKI on the other hand started bc of mina. she was big on cosplay and harassed him to make her props for her bc he's v v clever w/ his hands and he likes making shit lol. the more demanding her request were he became the more obsessed to making it RIGHT AND PERFECT. he wanted to be an engineer bc nothing is cooler than building things and taking it apart. cosplay w/ all the things you have to create bc it doesn't exist anywhere else, so he has to start from scratch but he loves a good challenge. it's a great training ground of his career lol

he never intend to be part of MINA'S COSPLAY project but for her bday she requested that they collab and that he would appeared in a photoshoot w/ her. mina doesn't make bday's wish lightly so katsuki found himself cornered like trapped rat. he begrudgingly complied bc they been friends long enough that she can guilt trip him like NOBODY ELSE but katsuki can’t halfass it. if he's doing it, he's putting 10000% into this and be a fucking boss and OUTDO HER IN EVERY WAY so she can regret inviting him. so katsuki ofc picked the most elaborate, technically complicated, and time consuming cosplay. there were lights, electrical works, armor sets, etc, katsuki had to build them by hand to create it. he DEF show up her up at her own photoshoot and stunned every fucking person there.

for someone who has LITTLE TO NO INTEREST IN IT, katsuki went all in and more. ofc that photoshoot blew up on social media and ppl just hammer for more, wanting katsuki to make their costumes and props but he aint anyone's peons!! if he's going to put time and effort into making cool shit like this than he's only making it for his friends or himself. esp now that he saw how ridiculously hard and annoying it could be and that made him loves it all the more. so that's HOW KATSUKI GOT INTO COSPLAY.

after so many yrs of mina dragging him to cons to showoff his cosplay and w/ all the efforts he put into it, it always stunned the crowd. he even win awards after awards for his cosplay, firmly establishing his presence as one of the BEST IF NOT THE BEST IN the community!! so now he came to the biggest con of the year and is prepped for the show of his life. his costume is a dragon w/ glowing lights, functional mechanical wings that flap and even retract to his back!! it's kick ass and he poured hundreds of hours into it.

his legion of fans have been waiting for this project to bear fruit for months since the first sneak peak. the rumors churn around fandom that once again bakugou would place first again w/ his outstanding crazy out of this world dragon cosplay. nobody can top him, right????? when he arrives at the con w/ his new fucking showy cosplay, there as a blitzkrieg of photos ops and fan signing. everyone wanted to talk to him about his cosplay and then,,,,, someone SCREAMS DEKU and the next thing he knows he's left in the dust over some other cosplayer.

katsuki would be lying if he say he didn't know deku. deku w/ over 5 mills followers on twitter and 10 mils on instagrams, he's recognizable name in the community but for all the wrong reasons katsuki thinks venomously, deku who takes skanky photos of himself and call it cosplay bemismirching real hard works of other more serious cosplayers. it IRKS HIM SO MUCH that deku and his kind get the fame and recognition for wearing less, popping a collarbone and showing off his upper thigh in a photo and his fucking fans EAT THAT THIS RIGHT UP. fucking horny ass fuck ppl ruining everything and deku who catered to that shit.

while katsuki had spent months working super hard get this his dragon cosplay ABSOLUTELY PERFECT, nearly burnt his hands trying to get the wires correct, but all deku needed was put on some makeup, smile to the camera, and flashed his killer thighs and everybody THINK IT'S AMAZING. katsuki, in not one of his most brightest moment, decide to quote rtwt one of izuku's photos op w/ a comment: "you must have work reaaaaaal hard to look that good, huh. just making our community proud w/ that shitty ass effort." TO HIS 3 MILS FOLLOWERS bc he's an ass.

his followers immediately jumped on that tweet, blasting deku and his fanbase for calling it 'cosplay' but all it is is just deku w/ revealing clothes and in sexy costumes and OFC DEKU'S FANBASE DOESN'T GO DOWN QUIETLY, attacking back about their elitism and slutshaming. a war was started bc of a single tweet by katsuki who rarely keep his opinion to himself and he didn't know what he unleashed w/ that tweet. the majority of the community immediately side w/ katsuki who thinks that izuku shouldn't take all the attention from other hardworking cosplayer, blasting Izuku and his fans and all the other lewd cosplayers for not being *serious* enough but katsuki had no clue about it bc he just went there to vent and shut his phone after that bc otherwise he get so mad and break something if he think about it.

he got a competition to win!! which by everyone standard he's a shoe in to win first place again but just HIS FUCKING LUCK bc deku has the audacity to enter the same competition as him like he's gonna win at all?? in his skimpy boyshorts and bunny ears and FUCKING HUGE EYES AND RED CHEEKS AND, AND—. fuming, katsuki has every intention to destroy deku in the competition.

just before katsuki head off on stage for his number being call next, deku suddenly approaches him, eyes downcast and strangely shy in a way he didn't think deku who takes spread his thighs ON CAMERA, tells him with a tremble voice, "good luck, bakugou-san, im rooting for you!"

katsuki is kinda ?????!!! but he has no time to think about it bc it's his turn on stage and as soon as he step up, the crowd roars and he basked in the all their screams bc he knew he fucking got it. this is his stage, his world and deku is fucking dirt on the road. after he is done, he went offstage and waited for all the contestants finish and deku is apparently the last but the moment he on stage the crows is on their feet and clapping so loudly as though DEKU HAD ALREADY WON IT. they scream his names and lay their adoration at his feet.

for the first time in a v v v long time, katsuki felt unsure as though his first place wasn't a guarantee, but when it was time to announce the winner: it's his name that they call. which means all right in the world BUT lol deku is the one who won the audience's favorite award. katsuki won the judges' recognition but deku is the one whom the audience love the most and it's just hurt his ego so much bc he never lost anything in his life but this ??? fucking BRUTAL esp when deku is blushing as he hold his trophy but keep glancing at katsuki while at it.

after the contest end, katsuki broke away from his crowd of fans to stalked over izuku's own group, anger licking at his foot and his tongue sharpens for a battle. he is gonna end deku's entire fucking career right here and then.

just as katsuki makes his way through the crowd, he hears a soft and surprise, "ah, bakugou-san! congrats on your win!" deku says earnestly. "i knew you would win! your dragon cosplay is just out of this world and i'm just so floor , so can I-um, would you mind signing for me?"

katsuki stops. his brain freezes up and he lets out an intelligibility, "huh?" as deku stares up hopefully at him and his crowd of fans titters anxiously w/ worried whispers like they thought katsuki came to start a fight... which HE DID, but deku had surprised them all.

"i dont have a pen," he says, like a total IDIOT against deku's wide earnest eyes bc the image he has of deku doesn't MATCH at all with the sweet shy young man in front of him now. the deku he had seen was confident, sultry, and knows how to fuck you up w/ a curve of his lips but the deku he sees now is like a completely different person who doesn't seem as bold and daring as the deku who took a photo of himself in foamy bathwater and a teasing leg poking above the water that PROVOKED ALL KIND OF INCINERATING IMAGES. it's just--DOES NOT COMPUTE!! FUCK

"oh," deku replies, completely crestfallen like his heart is shattered bc of katsuki inability to acquire a pen. "but i-i, think i have something for you to use," he says, looking down at his chest and feels around for something it AS KATSUKI'S EYES BULGE OUT.

pulling out a pen tucked b/t his tight corset, deku looks on happily. "i got one!" and then hesitantly. "um if you don't mind."

katsuki just stares at him, not knowing if DEKU WAS FUCKING W/ HIM AT ALL OR is this actually real. like, is he that much of a fucking ditz and it's not like the fans DON'T HAVE A PEN but they're kinda too focus on watching this hilarious shitshow go down. some of them want to see katsuki blow up, others stand there protectively around izuku, but most just here for the drama after seeing the twitter fallout.

blankly, he just take the pen from deku. "where do i fucking sign?" he grunts.

"Um, my, um," deku goes bright red suddenly, "my chest--well i mean no wait, uh, my arm if that's okay with you? i didn't bring anything w/ me for you to sign. im so, so sorry for the inconvenience!"

katsuki can feel a headache coming on. "Are you fucking with me?!" he hisses. this is clearly some sort of a fucking joke. deku prob plan to set this up w/ his fans to mock katsuki. that lil shit.

deku's fans titters anxiously as deku's eyes widen shock hurt. "i wouldn't--!"

deku in his dolled up face, bunny ears, corset and fuckING TINY SHORTS w/ white fur linings meant to incite you and fuck w/ your heads but katsuki looks at deku's wounded eyes and he knows, somehow, he's FUCKED UP. this isn't the face of manipulative conman. he's fucking real.

katsuki sighs and drags a hand down his face in defeat. "fine," he says, and grabs deku by the arm to the gasping crowd. he quickly writes his name over deku's bicep as his other hand steady his brushstroke, fingers pressing down soft flesh and it sets off fireworks in his head. deku doesn't even move in the slightest, holding his breath the entire time as katsuki's finish writing his name. when he step back, deku looks at the writing on his arm and traces a finger over it, carefully and reverently.

YEA, katsuki thinks, he'd really, really fucked up.

katsuki isn't known for his mistakes, but even he now knows that he had deku wrong all along bc of his egoism and elitism, he'd almost destroyed deku w/ it. fuck, he messed up but, he's not just going to let that sit. he'll fix it. delete the tweet and apologize to deku.

first though gritting his teeth, he asks, "if you're not doing anything else now," stopping for a moment, he cringes at his pussy ass wording, IT DOESNT SOUND LIKE HIM AT ALL. HOW IS HE EVER THIS HESITANT. FUCK. he coughs and looks away. "walk with me around the con."

deku immediately lights up like a fucking lighthouse. katsuki's eyes are nearly blind with how incredibly happy he looks. "oh-oh, really? can i really go with you, bakugou-san?" he asks, excitement and worry warring on his face. "you won't mind right?"

katsuki huffs. "I fucking told you we're going together, why would i take it back then. im not some shithead that would go back on their words," he snaps.

for one fucking dizzying moment, deku's lips curve upward into a slow and blossoming smile and katsuki is knock breathless. he turns his head away, feeling a strange heat rising in his chest. fuck. this is not good, he thinks as he hurriedly walks off, leaving deku behind in rush. he hears deku yelling at his back to wait for him as his heel clicks and clicks in rapid succession trying to catch up.

katsuki slows his step enough for deku to finally be in line of him, who is a bit breathless having to run in his heels. "t-thank you," deku says, sounding grateful for the FACT THAT KATSUKI SLOW DOWN FOR HIM EVEN THOUGH KATSUKI IS THE IDIOT WHO RAN OFF IN THE FIRST PLACE.

Grimacing, "my fault," he grunts. it's not an outright apology but it's enough trigger another smile on deku's face. katsuki is starting to realize that deku is all nerves and hesitation but for every moment of boldness he manages to sum up and is rewarded for it, he's happy. it's such a small and insignificant thing to be happy about but deku takes it like they're gifts and abruptly all katsuki wants to do is be the one is give it to him.

they both go quiet as they continue move around the con, posing for photos and signing things for their fans. their hardcore group of of fans trail them from a careful distance. he recognizes the trouble but confused expression on deku's circle of fans and then there's katsuki's fan who are all looking at him like HE'S INSANE for shitting on deku one sec to now buddying up w/ him.

katsuki feels like he's insane too since meeting deku his emotions had been running amok on a cocktail of anger, confusion, and an undecipherable emotion he's afraid to give a name to. this is all deku's fault. but mostly it's him--his for being such a prejudiced asshole. if he didn't win that audience's favorite award is only bc he WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH not bc deku cheated his way to that win. if ppl like deku better it's bc deku is sweet and GENTLE AND GOOD and katsuki is an idiot for assuming what he wear and how he present himself say otherwise.

he thought mina had beaten these alpha male elitist preconceived notions out of him but the thought of losing to deku had hurt his pride and he lashed out in all the fucking wrong way like a total bludgeoning idiot. he's gonna have to apologize eventually. he knows it. one step a time though.

it's summer in tokyo which means it blistering hot so the AC been blasting nonstop at the con. katsuki with his punk dragon cosplay got his studded scaled jacket on and also he always run a lil hot so he doesnt feel it. deku next him though is trembling a little under the chilly air. he'd been touching himself more, hands running down his arm to warm up everytime they get a break b/t fanmeets and photos but the moment their fans arrive, his hands drop to his side and he put on a profession front.

after the fifth time it had happened, katsuki can feel the throbbing annoyance growing in the back of his head. "cold?" he says.

deku stops. "uh, no."

"so you're not cold in those clothes?" he asks, brows furrowing skeptically. "really? not even a lil bit?"

deku quickly shakes his head, looking down at his outfit. "this is my armor," he says, smiling softly. katsuki doesn't know what to think of those words but with the way deku have been more than sincere w/ him throughout their entire meeting he believes it, believes him.

katsuki frowns, running scenarios in his head and then says fuck it. he cast off his jacket and throws it at deku. "wear it," he orders. "i dont want you catching a fucking cold next to me or your rapid fans are gonna eat me alive." he shoot a glare at them for equal measure.

"oh," deku breathes, hush and so delighted that he's bleeding happiness. "thank you. you're so kind bakugou-san." he pulls the jacket over his body and it nearly swamp him with how big it is, but fuck deku in katsuki's jacket with bare legs poking through is a FUCKING MASS WEAPON.

He realizes in that heated moment why deku is so much beloved by his fans and it’s partly the long pale legs, the bright green eyes, constellation of freckles, and soft, coy smile but really it’s just plain old awkward deku that they all fell for. He sees it all now, and bitter regrets for his past actions hit him like a goddamn truck and he want to knock some sense into his past self right now. Fucking damnit. If deku who smiles sweetly at him now and who think Katsuki is this amazing ,kind person before him realize what kind of ugly monster he had made of himself earlier on twitter against deku… then that smile will no longer turn toward him anymore and that somehow hurt more than the lost of his trophy.

#bakudeku #not!fic #cosplayers au #sorry i've been busy working on the next part of social media au #and currently working on the regecy abo au again so /o\

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lils-writes-stuff · 4 years

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New Beginnings

Spencer Reid x reader

Best Years Season 2 part one | season one

summary: Readers first day back on the job is a lot different then she expected.

warning: normal criminal minds things, mentions of suicide, fluff at the end (such cute fluff)

A/N: based on season 8 episode 1; so um, the ending is really cute.

“I must say, Agent Y/L/N, I wasn’t expecting this to be the answer,” Strauss said with a disappointed look as she closed her leather folder.

“You’re asking me to leave the BAU, how did you expect my answer to not be no,” Y/N said with furrowed brows.

This is not how Y/N wanted to be welcomed back after her leave. She was gone two months and in that time Strauss decided she wanted to move her to a new unit. That was flat out disrespectful.

“Well with Agent Prentiss’s move, I was expecting you to want to be reassigned,” Strauss said, folding her hands on her stomach. “You have made progress here, and other units have seen that and want you on their teams.”

Y/N looked at her knowing that wasn’t the full truth, Strauss had something to do with this also. She always did.

“And I also believe that your time in BAU has been paid and it’s time to do greater things. You could be one of the best fugitive task force agents, your skills I’ve seen are-”

“I appreciate that Strauss, really I do, but I’ve made a home at the BAU-” Y/N stood up from the chair- “And I have no plans on moving anytime soon.”

With that, she walked out of the office and towards the elevator. The hum of the elevator was quiet and it only boiled her rage. Strauss wasn’t an all-around terrible person, but when it came to work, she always had to have what she wanted. Everything had to be tip-top and work out in her favor, and Y/N guessed Strauss forgot what it’s like to be in the field and work with a team.

When the doors dinged open, Y/N swiftly walked out and into Hotch’s office. She didn’t bother to knock, she just opened the door and stood in front of his desk.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork with a confused look. “Please, Y/N come in.”

She huffed, “Sir, do you think that my time has been paid at the BAU?”

He raised a brow as he looked at her with a confused gaze. “No?”

“So you would agree that Section Chief Strauss’s opinion to move me to a new unit is unprecedented?”

Y/N’s announcement took Hotch by surprise, clearly, he didn’t know about this. He set down his ink pen, signifying his full attention was now on the conversation.

“Do you want to be moved?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Hell no,” she responded quickly. “She thinks that because Emily left, that ‘I would want to move’-” she used a mocking tone with quotation marks as she quoted Strauss- “Said my skills would be of good use in Fugitive Task Force.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I will do everything I can to not have you moved, Y/N.”

His words were comforting, but with what happened with JJ a couple of years ago, she wasn’t sure. But that was the state department, this was still in the FBI, so maybe it wouldn’t turn out so bad.

Thanking Hotch, she walked out of the office and down the stairs to the bullpen. When she came to the door, she was met with Penelope and Derek. Penelope holding many nick-nacks from her visit to London with Derek to help Emily settle into her new life there.

“Garcia, you guys were talking yest-” Penelope cut off Derek as she saw Y/N approach.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed trotting over to Y/N in her heels to hug her. It was a difficult task with her bag filled arms. “Oh my gosh, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” Y/N pulled away from her hug and reached over for Derek.

“Hey, Wonder Woman,” he said, giving her a squeeze.

“Were you one the last case?” Penelope asked.

“No, actually today is my-”

“Wait, where is everybody else? Don’t tell me they’re still in Seattle,” Penelope interjected when she noticed the empty desks in the office.

“I just saw Hotch.” She turned to look at all the empty desks in the bullpen. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

“Well actually,” Derek said pointing behind Penelope to JJ and Spencer as they entered.

“Hi, you guys are back!” JJ said walking into the office clapping her hands together.

Y/N’s face lit up as she saw Spencer. She hadn’t seen him in what felt like forever since he left for the case in Seattle. Her mandatory leave allowed him to come over to hang out with her in a stress-free environment. But then she realized that with the emotional trauma she thought she buried had now bubbled back up, she couldn’t be alone. Her therapist recommended for her to live with Spencer. So when she brought it up with him, he was very enthusiastic about the idea.

“Oy, mates! Give me a squeeze,” Penelope said with a fake British accent.

JJ hugged Penelope then moved to Derek.

“Y/N, how have you been?” JJ asked moving to give her a hug. She hadn’t seen her in a while from her busy life at work and at home.

“Good, better now that I’m back at work,” she responded with a giggle.

Spencer then moved to hug Y/N after doing his odd handshake with Derek. A week and a half was too long without seeing her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and swung her in a circle and pecked her cheek.

“You would think they don’t live together or something,” Derek laughed as the happy couple reunited.

“Right?” JJ agreed with a laugh.

“How’s Emily doing?” Spencer asked once he set Y/N down and turned back to the three beside them.

“Brilliant and Lovely.” Penelope continued her accent.

“Her apartments off the chain,” Derek said.

“You mean her flat,” Penelope corrected his terminology. “You have to take a shaky old lift to get to the top, but the view is brilliant.”

Once she finished her statement, she did her excited little gasp and began to pull presents out of her bag.

“For my favorite bloke.” She handed Spencer a mug with the British flag on it.

“Hey, I love it! Thank you!” Spencer responded gratefully.

She handed JJ a little double-decker bus for her desk, which she thanked her for.

“Oh and Y/N, I thought you would love this.” Penelope then pulled a snowglobe the size of her hand out of a different bag.

It had Big Ben in the middle, surrounded by the streets of London with little people and cars filling them.

“Oh my gosh, this will go perfect with my collection.” Y/N smiled at Penelope and thanked her. She had made it a point when she first joined the team to, if possible, get a snowglobe from every state she visited. She had a lot now, almost all fifty, and an international one was a great thing to add to her collection.

“Hey, Morgan, how was temporary duty?” Y/N asked, peeling her eyes off of the beautiful snowglobe.

“Oh, it was around the clock,” Derek responded. “I thought I’d get a little more of a vacation, but…”

“Did you watch the Olympics at all?” Spencer asked.

“I did see a little track and field, but the queen bee here-” he gestured to Penelope- “She saw everything.”

“Hey, me too, that’s all I got to do during my sabbatical, besides talking to my therapist.” Y/N giggled high-fiving Penelope as she related.

“Emily is, for real, hooked up over there. She sends her love, and tea of the month starts next week,” Penelope said, her eyes bouncing between the three who weren’t with her.

“Oh, I miss her,” JJ said staring absently at the floor behind Penelope.

“Me too,” Y/N agreed.

“Don’t even get me started,” Penelope said shaking her head. “Hey, how’s the new? Is she nice?”

Penelope was referring to the new team recruit, who had joined during their time in London, and Y/N’s leave.

“Yeah, she is,” JJ answered sincerely.

“Y/N, have you met her?” Penelope turned to Y/N who was standing next to Spencer.

“I have yet to meet her, but Spence has told me about her,” Y/N responded.

“I’m just asking. Reid-” Penelope whipped her head to make eye contact with Spencer- “Do you know she was recruited when she was 24?”

“I’ve guest lectured in her forensics linguistics class before,” Spencer said.

“Of course you have, cause she's a professor and an agent, which is so impressive,” Penelope muttered.

“No, really, she’s great,” JJ said trying to convince Penelope that this change was good.

“Mm-hmm, and driven, clearly. Berkely grad, double major, bureau star of the Unabomber case, and she teaches at George town,” Penelope said, reciting everything she knew about this woman from her research.

“When she’s not doing that, she’s SSAing at the Washington Field Office. And she has her PhD. does that mean I have to call her doctor?”

While Penelope continued her spew, the four in front of her just looked at her with a ‘really?’ look. Y/N just let out a chuckle, missing Penelope’s sass.

“What?! I did some research on her cause I couldn’t sleep on the plane,” She defended herself. “And my point is, clearly, she is smart and capable but is she nice?”

As Penelope finished her question, Derek, JJ, and Y/N cleared their throats to stop her as SSA Alex Blake walked up behind her.

Y/N let out a giggle as Spencer moved away from his spot beside Penelope as if trying to get away from the situation.

“Oh dear god, this is happening. Where I talk and the person is behind…” she trailed off as she turned to be met with Blake. “Me.”

“The origin of ‘nice’, is twelfth-century Middle English, meaning foolish or stupid,” Blake said as she met Penelope’s eyes. “I hope you’re referring to the modern use of the adjective.”

Y/N let out a muffled laugh into her hand that covered her mouth, not being able to keep it in any longer. Derek smacked her arm but was also smiling as he was struggling not to laugh.

“You must be Penelope,” Blake concurred once Penelope stayed in a silent, embarrassed state. “I’m Alex Blake.”

“Nice to meet you. Really, actually nice in the nicest of ways nice,” Penelope said quietly as Derek placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m Derek Morgan,” Derek said, shaking Blake’s hand.

“Welcome back,” she responded.

Y/N then stepped up to introduce herself.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” she stuck her hand out.

To her surprise, she smiled adoringly at her. “Welcome back to you too, Dr. Reid mentioned you the last time he guest lectured to me.”

Y/N giggled and glanced at Spencer who had a shy blush on his face. “Good things I hope.”

“Of course.”

“How was Seattle?” Derek asked Blake.

“The unsub made Ridgway look like a saint. He even used his own kid to bait his victims,” Blake responded.

“Mm, those aren’t fun, we’ve seen them before, and no doubt will see those again,” Y/N said with a grimace.

Blake nodded and was about to respond but Rossi walked in quickly.

“Don’t unpack,” Rossi said as he walked past quickly.

“Garcia, the files,” Hotch said as he also walked past.

Penelope nodded, muttering some words under her breath, embarrassed by her whole encounter as she walked away.

The team made their way up to the round table room swiftly.

“A few hours ago there was a prison transfer to the county hospital in Abilene, Texas. The Ambulance crashed and the prisoner escaped.” As Hotch began the case, Strauss entered with files and handed them to everyone.

“He’s wearing the EMT uniform, and he’s armed with the guard’s weapon,” Strauss continued.

“Aren’t the U.S. Marshals on this?” Derek asked.

“Yes, they are, but they need your help because this is what they found inside.” Strauss grabbed the remote and pulled up a picture of the victim.

“The EMT and the driver died in the accident, the guard, however, suffocated,” Strauss continued as they saw the Guard laying on the table in the photo. The EMT laid in the back in only his underwear and a white T-shirt.

“What’s on his mouth?” Y/N asked as she noticed the guard’s mouth had something on it.

“It was sewn shut,” Strauss responded.

“So the prisoner in the silencer,” Blake said as she remembered the signature.

“Or this guy’s a copycat,” Rossi countered.

“Forensics confirmed it’s the same unique double-knot ligature he used in all three murder,” Hotch said, debunking the copycat theory.

“His last known victim was in 2004 and he was never caught,” Spencer reminded everyone.

“So he didn’t go dormant by choice, he was locked up,” JJ concluded.

“Well, why not just escape? If he hadn’t sewn the guard’s mouth shut, we would never know it was him,” Derek said.

“He wants us to know he’s back,” Rossi replied to Derek’s statement with more clarity.

“We’ve got his face, what’s his name?” Blake asked Hotch.

“John Doe,” Hotch answered. “He was pulled over in ‘04 for a traffic violation, no registration, no tags, he carried no I.D.,” he continued.

“No way he did eight years for that,” Y/N said, confused as to why this man was in prison.

“They searched the car and found a gun with a silencer,” Hotch replied.

“A silencer, he was practically telling them who he was and no one made the connection,” Rossi stated baffled.

“It’s a federal offense, carries a 30-year minimum sentence, but it was actually what he did inside that guaranteed him life without parole,” Hotch finished.

“He killed two men while inside,” JJ said reading the report in her file.

“And never said a word,” Spencer added.

“Mm-hmm, he spoke with his fists,” Blake corrected as she looked at the report of all the fights he had been in.

“Remaining silent for 8 years takes a hell of a lot of self-restraint,” Derek said.

“Maybe it was a conditioned response,” Spencer said looking back at Derek.

“Garcia’s gathering all the files from ‘04, we’ll catch up on the plane. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch picked up his file and nodded his head to dismiss everyone.

Y/N walked out of the room with Spencer trailing behind her closely.

“Hey,” he said, catching up beside her while she was at her desk. “How was your meeting with Strauss?”

Y/N just looked at him with an annoyed look, hoping that would tell him how she felt about it.

“That bad?”

“Oh yeah, but we’ll talk about it when we get back.” She pulled her duffle over her shoulder and laid her coat across her arm.

Spencer nodded, grabbing his own bag, and led the way out of the office.

----------

Everyone sat in silence on the plane, looking over the files in hand. It wasn’t awkward, but it was filled with the stiffness you get when everyone’s minds are busy at work.

“Did any of you work on the Silencer case?” Blake asked, breaking the silence in hope to relieve the tension.

“That was during my extended sabbatical,” Rossi answered.

“I was still in college,” Y/N also answered.

The air became stiff again as Y/N mentioned college. After many times of telling the team, she was fine, and most of her trauma was gone, they still avoided the topic of college memories. She appreciated the fact they didn’t want to trigger any unwanted trauma, but she hated the fact that they walked on eggshells about the topic.

“We all consulted, but nobody made the trip to Texas,” Hotch said, answering for the rest of the team.

Blake looked up confused as to why they didn’t make the trip. “Why not? Three women in four months, it’s textbook kill rate, an undeniable signature, obvious surrogates.”

She let out a scuff of confusion.

“We weren’t invited by local police,” Hotch responded, disappointment that they weren’t invited evident in his voice .

“Aren’t you tired of that?” Blake said, annoyed that was the case of their help not being there.

The team chuckled, all silently saying ‘we know it’s annoying’.

“Welcome to our world,” Y/N giggled along with everyone else.

“The women he killed were beaten and left in open ditches. That physical representation of his anger is missing this time around,” Derek said as he switched the subject to victimology.

“He must do something else that satisfies him,” JJ said.

“The signature is the same, but his victimology couldn’t be more different,” Spencer began answering JJ and Derek’s statements. The guard was clearly a victim of necessity, but if he’s in need-driven behavior, such as sewing the mouths shut, how can he control that and only do it to the guard?”

“Maybe he just ran out of time,” Y/N said, answering Spencer’s now posed question.

“Or he could just want the guard to suffer in silence,” Derek argued.

“Literally makes his victims shut up,” Rossi agreed with his own twist on the argument.

“It seems obvious, but, uh, there may be something to it,” Hotch said, turning his head to Spencer for confirmation.

Spencer nodded his head.

“Then the question is why?” Blake asked.

“Morgan, you, Y/N, and JJ go to the M.E., Reid, you and Dave check out John Doe’s cell, and Blake and I will head to the U.S. Marshals,” Hotch said.

------------

Y/N hated the M.E., it smelt weird to her. She could deal with dead bodies, sure, but it was the smell of all the sterile equipment and the LED lights that gave her a headache.

“The suture is 6-zero nylon, P-3 needle, 13-millimeter long, ⅜ circle. A dozen of these would come in a box,” The M.E. said as she walked over to JJ, Y/N, and Derek who were beside the body.

“The suture drawer was empty on the ambulance,” Derek said.

“Then he’s got a lot more,” the M.E. concluded.

“His techniques aren’t like a mortician,” JJ said as she examined the mouth.

“It almost looks like the stitching is strictly through the lips,” Y/N agreed. She crossed her arms over her stomach as she leaned down closer to the face of the body. She turned her head to look at the stitching that almost looked like something from a horror movie.

“It’s rather crude what he’s done,” the M.E. added then pointed to the lips of the guard. “You see how the nylon is stretched? The victim struggled, which says the prisoner did it while this guy was still alive.”

“Torture, just like his first victims,” JJ said, concluding that this was the torture for this victim like how he did with his others.

“Well, now that you’ve seen his handiwork, I’ll open his mouth.” The M.E. picked up a pair of surgical scissors and cut the nylon suture.

When the nylon was cut, the M.E. used her hands to open his mouth. As she did so, the four saw an orange bag folded up in his mouth.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked as she peered at the object closer.

As the M.E. opened the folded bag, they saw the note written inside.

“ ‘Gazing through to the other side’,” Derek read aloud.

“That’s not much of a taunt.” JJ’s face contorted as she thought about the note.

“Maybe it’s not for us?” Y/N posed as she looked at the two agents.

“Then who?” Derek asked.

--------------

“He literally put words in the guard’s mouth,” Y/N said as her, Derek, and JJ walked into the conference room of the U.S. marshall’s precinct.

When they walked in, it looked like Spencer and Rossi had also just arrived and been telling Blake and Hotch of their findings.

“That’s new,” Rossi stated.

“Well, we think this is what we were missing, the words give him the pleasure the beatings used to bring,” JJ relayed what they discussed on the car ride there.

“Maybe we had this wrong, what if the ritual is sewing the mouths shut?” Spencer posed, which everyone gave him slightly confused glances as a response.

“His signature used to be the beatings, but now it’s putting words in their mouths,” Spencer clarified what he meant.

“Yeah, just when you think a signature doesn’t get more solid than that,” JJ said, agreeing with Spencer.

“What did he write?” Blake asked Derek, who was holding the note in the bag.

“ ‘Gazing through to the other side’,” Derek read the note again. He held it up to show it to the group.

Blake gave a confused face as she tried to think if she had heard the words before.

“It’s not an anagram,” Blake deciphered. “Is it a phrase in anything you’ve read so far?” She looked at Spencer who had a pile of notepads in front of him.

“No, it’s not a well-known literary reference either,” Spencer answered.

“Well, the words mean something to him, otherwise he wouldn’t share it,” Blake said as she pointed down to a notepad she was holding.

“It’s gonna get dark soon, he’ll be on the move.” Hotch’s statement was more of a spoken thought.

“You want us on the roads with the marshals?” Derek asked Hotch.

“No, I think we should concentrate on remote locations,” Hotch answered. “He’s not just escaping detection, he’s a recluse. He’ll be attracted to isolated locations.”

As the day went into the night, the team had sent out marshals to cover some areas they thought the unsub could be based on a geo-profile Spencer and Y/N made. They got an unfortunate hit at a local, isolated gas station. The owner had been killed with his mouth sewn shut.

Spencer, Y/N, and Blake stayed back at the precinct to help develop more of the profile and hopefully decipher more of the note.

“Blake,” Blake said as she answered her phone.

Y/N and Spencer could hear the faint voice of Derek on the other side.

“Did you get another note?” Blake asked. Derek responded with a ‘yep’ then Blake asked, “Can I put you on speaker?”

Assuming he said yes, she pulled the phone away from her ear and pressed the speaker button.

“ ‘Waiting on the taste of honey...the smell of summer,” Derek read.

Y/N thought for a second, then looked between Spencer and Blake hoping they knew what it meant.

“ ‘And the sight of the other side’, three of the senses,” Blake said as she pieced the notes together.

“Then we’re only missing sound and touch now,” Y/N said as she could now understand more of what the unsub was doing.

“This guy’s like Jekyll and Hyde writes a decent thought and then sews it in the mouth,” Derek said with slight irritation in his voice.

“Whatever he is, he’s romanticizing the hell out of this, thank Morgan,” Blake said, hovering her finger over the red hangup command.

“Sure,” he responded then Blake hung up.

“ ‘Gazing through to the other side, waiting on the taste of honey, the smell of summer.’ Do you think he’s telling us about a place?” Spencer asked as he said the whole quote.

“That’s what it sounds like,” Y/N responded.

“But…” Blake said and glanced back at the board and then walked to it. “Where?” She drew out the word with a sigh as she looked at a map.

-------------

“We can’t tell you exactly where this unsub’s going or what he’s thinking, but his actions will betray his intentions,” Hotch said as they began this odd profile.

“And how’s that?” Tilghman, the captain of the marshals, asked.

“Earlier tonight at the gas station, he could have stolen money, but the register wasn’t empty. That tells us he’s not planning a long road trip,” Hotch answered.

“And yet he’s logical enough to be in survival mode,” Y/N added.

“So logic tells him to escape, I get that,” Tilghman said then continued to ask a question. “But what the hell makes him sew mouths shut?”

“It’s a compulsion over which he has no control,” Hotch replied.

“So how do we stop him?” Tilghman asked.

“Well, truth shows itself through actions,” Derek began. “What’s this guy’s truth? He feels silenced. Agent Hotchner has a theory that he had a speech impediment that made him embarrassed to talk. He may have been relentlessly teased because of it.”

“His prior victims tell us a woman, likely a mother figure is to blame,” JJ said.

“Chances are she was abusive and convinced him that whatever words he had were worthless,” Y/N continued.

“This guy hasn’t spoken a word in eight years, could he have been mute?” Tilghman asked.

“Definitely not,” Blake answered.

“You sound pretty damn sure,” Tilghman challenged.

“He refers to IPA in a few of his personal writings,” Blake responded.

“What’s IPA?”

“International Phonetic Alphabet. It represents only those qualities of speech that are in spoken language,” Blake answered.

“It’s proof that he’s able to hear, which means most likely he can talk but chooses not to,” Y/N said as she could add onto Blake’s thought.

“Then what’s he using it for?” Tilghman continued his questions.

“He uses multiple languages to communicate. IPA is an interesting choice, I’ve found that those who understand something as detailed as that are also proficient in sign language,” Blake concluded.

“So these words that he’s leaving in these mouths are directly taunting us?” Tilghman asked what Y/N hoped was his final question.

“Those messages--”

“Have not been analyzed yet,” Blake interjected Y/N with a lie.

Y/N looked at her confused why she would do that then to Derek who had tapped her leg and gave her a confused look. Y/N simply shrugged at Derek answering his glance.

“You know, not to change the subject,” Spencer said, clearly changing the subject, hoping no awkward tension would come from the interjection. “But he’s incredibly well-read, which tells us that he grew up in isolation with literature being his only escape. His own writings are not as profound and despite his reading comprehension, we don’t think he’s had an extended education.”

“Everything about his psychosis says the spoken word has value, it also greatly angers him,” Rossi said.

“And if he was yelled at or made to feel stupid, he held onto his anger until he snapped,” Hotch added.

“So why hasn’t he fled the area?” Tilghman asked. “He knows there’s a manhunt going down, wouldn’t he want to get as far away as possible?”

“Well, he could be on a mission. We just don’t know if that mission includes a person or a place, but we do know his target is close to here,” JJ answered both of Tilghman’s questions.

“Thank you,” Hotch said, dismissing everyone.

When they stood up to leave the room, Derek tapped Y/N to get her attention.

“You want to talk to her about that?” He asked, referring to Blake cutting her off.

“Want to join me?” She responded which Derek nodded to.

“Hey, Blake,” Y/N said, making the dark-haired woman turn to her. She really didn’t want to piss this woman off, but she needed to know why she dismissed that part of the profile.

“Wouldn’t you say that those messages are related to the profile?” Y/N asked, wringing her hands together nervously.

“To a degree, yes,” Balke answered.

“A degree?” Derek questioned her response. “He basically signed his name to the murders.”

“He’s never left words before, that’s a significant change of behavior,” Y/N added onto Derek’s statement.

“But you completely dismissed it,” Derek finished. Those are the words Y/N was afraid would piss off Blake.

“Because the Marshals have their own agenda,” Blake said in a whisper. “And will believe it’s a taunt no matter what we tell them. We don’t need to give them any more fuel.”

Blake was right, Y/N and Derek knew that, but she should have brought that up with them before delivering the profile.

“If the unsub needs to get his thoughts out, it’s like he’s reminding us of something, and until we know what that something is I’m not comfortable speculating in front of them,” Blake finished expressing how she felt about it.

“Well, how about the rest of us?” Y/N asked. The question came off as defensive and that was not her intent.

“Dr. Reid and I are coming up with theories-” she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly- “you two are welcomed to join us.”

Derek looked at Y/N. She was pressing her thumb across the top of each of her fingers, pushing hard as a way to express her anger.

When Blake had walked away after Derek had given her a response to do so, Y/N let out a breath.

“Do you think she’s intentionally trying to make us feel inferior?” Y/N whispered to Derek, who let out an agitated sigh.

“Come on, let’s at least join her and boy wonder to give her a chance.”

-----------

The next morning, Y/N, Hotch, and Blake rolled up to the sight of the crime scene. The morning was cloudy and almost seemed dull. Appropriate for the circumstance of the child in his carrier left under a tree.

“Marshal, where are the parents?” Hotch asked Marshal Tilghman as they got closer.

“Father’s in the stall dead, no sign of the mother,” Tilghman responded. “He stole the victims I.D.’s so I have no idea who he is, or what kind of vehicle we’re looking for.”

“Was there another message?” Blake asked.

“They're checking right now.” Blake nodded and walked to the shed where the body was.

Y/N squatted down in front of the baby in the carrier. He was sleeping peacefully, a blanket laid carefully on top of him, his pacifier on top of the blanket, and his bottle beside it. That was odd because this baby was only a few months old.

“This baby is only a few months old, he’s too young to hold the bottle himself.” Y/N gestured to the bottle.

“Maybe the father fed him,” Tilghman said.

“You wouldn’t take the baby out of the safety of your car in the middle of the night.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of the unsub touching this poor little guy. A sudden motherly feeling overtook her and all she wanted to do was hold this baby.

“Then you’re telling me this guy killed a man then came out here for the baby?” Tilghman was confused by the theory.

“That’s exactly what he did,” Hotch answered solemnly. “He stayed with him while he slept and then gave him his pacifier.”

“Well then, maybe he’s not that far away,” Tilghman said then walked away.

As he walked away, Blake walked over and replaced the spot he vacated.

“There were no words left in the mouth this time,” Blake said as she got close to Hotch.

“I think caring for the baby is his message,” Hotch said as he looked down at the child.

“Then he must relate to the child,” Blake concluded.

“Maybe he’s obsessed with nature he didn’t get,” Y/N said. Her focus never left the baby though, she was too worried about him waking up and crying for it to be diverted away.

“Or simply wanted him to be quiet,” Blake added.

“He’s telling us he has boundaries?” Hotch wondered.

“He’s too unstable for that, I’d say he’s lucky,” Blake said as she gave a tight-lipped smile to the baby.

Y/N then looked to the side of the carrier, her hand reached under the blanket to move it off the ground. When she did so, an orange biohazard bag revealed. She picked it up and stood up from her squatted position to show Blake and Hotch her findings.

When they saw what she had, she opened the bag to see what was inside.

“Scissors...suture kits...medical tape.” She listed off the items she saw in the bag to them.

“What’s he trying to tell us? That he’s finished killing?” Blake asked.

“He left his tools behind. That usually means you’re gonna call it quits,” Y/N said as she agreed with Blake’s question.

“He didn’t leave the stolen gun,” Hotch reminded them of the item. “He’s not giving up.”

With that, the three finished up at the crime scene and headed back to the precinct to rethink what his next move will be.

“Okay,” JJ began with a sigh. “So he leaves words until today, maybe he’s closer to what he’s looking for?”

“He could have already found it,” Derek said, answering JJ’s questioned theory. “If he feels satisfied, he may disappear.”

“Mm, we’re too close to let that happen,” Blake said with her hands pressed against one another in front of her face.

“All right, then we go back to the first kills; three women, late forties, all working class. Mothers, brunettes, beaten and left in a ditch. That was his message, he hated them,” Hotch said trying to give a new train of thought for everyone.

“Maybe he’s not targeting women anymore because he already killed the person he blames,” Y/N proposed. She had been looking down at her journal in her lap, when she looked up, she was met with Spencer’s gaze.

She blushed, even after a year of dating, his gazes of adoration still give her butterflies.

“Most likely his mother,” Blake said, agreeing with Y/N.

“We should have Garcia run all the victims’ names again,” Hotch said, pulling over the conference phone, dialing Penelope’s number.

“At your service,” Penelope said, answering the phone after one ring.

“Pull up the ‘04 victims,” Hotch ordered.

“Done.”

“All right, we need a list of their children,” Hotch continued his orders.

“Okay, next of kin, state welfare, give me a sec…” Penelope’s voice trailed off as she searched then a ping was heard. “Gotcha! Okay, some were put into foster care after their moms died, runaways, truancy, not good.”

“Any incarcerated?” Hotch asked.

“A handful, do you have any more parameters?” Penelope asked in hopes of getting a hit.

“Uh, not yet, just send us the list,” Hotch answered.

“Comin’ at ya now.” Penelope hung up.

“All right, let’s start with the first victim.” Hotch pulled the list up on his phone.

“Julie Myres.” JJ pointed with her pencil to the victim on the board.

“Three boys- Mark, Greg, and John, born ‘70, ‘72, ‘74, history of truancy. Child services lost track of them.” Hotch read from the list, only hitting the highlights and not going into the full detail.

“Is there any family history of cajun French?” Blake asked.

“Yeah, Julie Myres was born in New Orleans,” Hotch answered as he read the bio of the victim.

“Could Explain his interest in the language,” Y/N posed with a shrug.

“Let’s jump ahead to his most recent behavior-” Derek grabbed a bag with the evidence Y/N found by the baby- “He leaves all of this behind. Is it his version of surrender?”

“What’s the medical tape for?” Rossi nodded to the tape in the bag. “He didn’t use it on any of the victims.”

“Yet it was important enough for him to steal from the ambulance,” Derek said as he gestured to the item in the bag.

“Maybe he’s using it on himself.” Y/N leaned forward on the table. “We said he may have some kinda nerve damage, if that’s the case, his eye won’t shut by itself.”

“So he would have to tape it down,” Derek said agreeing with Y/N’s statement.

“It’s his left eye, the same where the recent scars are,” Hotch added.

“Under his ear,” JJ said, remembering the scar in the picture. “What if he was trying to stop from hearing.”

“That’s pretty severe, taking a knife to your own head,” Rossi said, not sure if that would be the case.

“He may have had an implant, the electronic pulses enhance natural sound. If all he wants is peace, an implant is like having a speaker that goes to eleven,” Blake said.

With this new theory in play, Hotch hit the redial button to call Penelope back.

“That was fast,” Penelope said when she answered.

“Do any of the children have a cochlear implant?” Hotch asked, hopeful for a yes.

“Uh, 1988, John Myers,” Penelope responded after a small pause for her searching.

“He was fourteen at the time,” Hotch said looking at his birthdate.

“Yeah, his mom was paid six hundred and fifty bucks for the medical trial,” Penelope said as she did some more digging.

“Was he deaf before that?” Y/N asked leaning closer to the phone.

“Had to be in order to participate,” Penelope answered. Her fingers typing on the keys could be heard through the call as she pulled up more of the trial. “Yikes, it was a highly experimental procedure. It was rested on humans, not animals-”

Everyone’s eyebrows shot up in shock at her words.

“Caused quite the controversy.”

“So mom gives him the gift of hearing and it turns out to be a curse,” Rossi said as he came to a conclusion for a motive.

“Spent his first fourteen years in silence, gets lost in the world through books, learns languages-- anything to escape,” Spencer said.

“He’s content, and then his mom gets paid to use him as a guinea pig and now he can’t turn the noise off,” Blake said as she thought more into his motive.

“He blamed her and he wanted her to suffer,” JJ said, agreeing with Blake.

The team kept working, pulling different theories and piecing together scenes.

Y/N tried to focus, but she was having a hard time. Spencer was focused with Blake on trying to decipher the two notes, and she really couldn’t follow what they were saying. All she could think about was that poor baby.

“Hotch, I’m going to get some air.” Y/N stood up from her chair.

Hotch nodded his head, and the rest of the team watched as Y/N swiftly walked out of the room and out the doors.

When the air hit her, she felt capable of breathing again. She laced her fingers together and placed them on top of her head. The sun was warm on her face and she felt like her head was clear for the first time in hours.

Her arms fell down to her sides when she heard the front door open. She expected it to be Spencer, but she was surprised when she was met with Blake.

“You okay?” She asked sincerely.

Y/N took a breath in through her nose, no tears came from her eyes, but the breath was shaky like she was crying.

Running her hands down her face, she let out the breath she took in. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” She looked at her with a tight-lipped smile.

An awkward silence fell between the two as Y/N was still trying to compose herself and Blake was trying to from her words.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. I should’ve talked to the team about the whole note thing before we delivered the profile,” Blake said with an apologetic tone.

“I understand.” Y/N really didn’t want to get into the fact that Blake made her feel inferior, so she opted to just let it go.

With a grateful smile, Blake gave a simple nod and opened the door for Y/N. She smiled and walked in to head back to the conference room.

----------

Y/N stood in front of a whiteboard. The two phases of the notes he left written out on it. Her eyes darted between the words and the pictures of the victims, not even knowing where to start to figure out where the words could take them.

“If they aren’t his words then who’s are they?” Derek asked as he walked away from the board to sit down. He was annoyed that they couldn’t figure out what they were.

“We need to find out who his neighbors were in prison,” Blake said as she thought of where they could start.

“He spent more time in solitary then he did in his own cell,” Rossi stated, not knowing if what Blake was asking for would help.

“It’s total darkness but not complete silence, the inmates can speak through the walls,” JJ said.

“Let’s see which fellow inmate did time in solitary when he was there.” Rossi pulled out his phone then walked out of the room to make the call to the prison.

“I can’t really imagine an inmate thrown in solitary would be telling campfire stories to other inmates in solitary.” Y/N spoke in a monotone voice, her eyes still trained on the board.

“Some inmates get put in there for their own protection,” Derek reminded her.

“That’s true, we should start with those prisoners,” Hotch said, agreeing with Derek’s statement.

“Hold on,” Blake said, bringing the attention to her. “See how he wrote ‘Waiting on the taste of honey’, it’s got Southern U.S. roots, but more specifically it’s Texas south. A sub-dialect of southern English found in the north-central part of the state.”

She looked back down at the notes then saw another thing. “Right here-- you wait for something that hasn’t shown up, you wait on something that’s nearby.”

“The taste of honey would be close,” Spencer said as he understood what Blake was saying.

“Yes, and the storyteller is probably from north of here.”

“Fewer were thrown in the hole than you think,” Rossi said when he stepped back into the room, then set his phone down on the table. “Go ahead, Garcia.”

“Our unsub was the MVP of solitary. He was in there more than any other prisoner,” Penelope said as she relayed what she told Rossi to the rest of the team.

“All right, we’re looking for somebody who didn’t belong in jail. His offense would be minimal, he might even be in there for his own protection.”Hotch gave some parameters.

“Uh-huh, I got a few,” Penelope responded when she got a hit.

“Can you read off the hometowns?” Blake asked.

“Sure, Beaumont, Edinburgh, Sweetwater--”

“Sweetwater, who was that inmate?” Y/N asked as the name perked her ears. She turned away from the board and stood next to Blake.

“Danny Tucker looks like he was only in for two months,” Penelope answered.

“Well, that’s long enough to tell stories to John Myres,” Hotch said.

“Hey, his family owns property near where you are. It’s really secluded, too,” Penelope said as she found out that information.

“With local honey, by any chance?” Blake asked.

“They are known for it.”

“That’s where he’s going,” Y/N said looking at Blake next to her who nodded in agreement.

“Garcia, is it private property?” Hotch asked.

“It was, but it’s been sold. They’re building a housing development.”

“So it’s not the hideaway he’s hoping for,” Y/N said, looking to Hotch.

“Where would he go?” Blake asked.

“He might blame Danny for lying to him. Garcia-”

“Danny’s house is down the road from the development, I’m sending his address to your phones now.” Penelope beat Hotch to the punch.

“Dave, You, Reid, and Y/N go to the site, the rest of us will go to the house,” Hotch said, sending everyone off.

------------

That evening, the team arrived back at Quantico. Sadly, John had ended up taking his own life, but Danny and his family were saved.

Rossi led the pack of Y/N, Spencer, JJ, and Blake through the office doors.

“Don’t tell me there's another one,” Rossi said as he was now face-to-face with Strauss who had been waiting for them.

“There’s always another one,” she replied.

“I told you we should’ve just gotten into our cars,” Rossi said as he regretted not doing so.

Y/N rested her head on Spencer’s arm. She really wanted to go home now, even after being stuck there for so long, she just wanted to go home and cuddle with Spencer.

“Where are we off to now?” JJ asked.

“Home,” Strauss responded. “You need to spend at least one night in your own beds.”

“Bless,” Y/N said, grabbing Spencer’s hand and leading him to the elevator.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Rossi said following close behind.

“Yeah, me too,” JJ said as she also followed.

When Y/N walked through her and Spencer’s apartment door, she let out a loud, exaggerated sigh of relief. She held both her arms out as she basked in the feeling of being home.

“I thought you said you were done with being stuck at home,” Spencer laughed as he set down his go-bag.

“I say some things that I don’t mean later.” Y/N set her go-bag down by the couch and walked into the bedroom, flopping onto the bed.

The nicely made bed, now looking a little disheveled from the impact, surrounded Y/N. The comfort it gave relieved her back pain from the lousy hotel bed she had slept in.

Spencer followed closely behind, and unlike her, carefully climbed next to her in the bed.

“You want to tell me about that meeting now?” Spencer asked, grabbing her hand and giving it a kiss.

“Ugh.” Y/N groaned as she scooted closer to Spencer. She kinda hoped he would forget about it, but that would literally be impossible for him. “She asked me if I wanted to move to the fugitive task force because Emily left.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said no, obviously.”

She had her head laying on his chest but then lifted it up to look at him. Her head rested in her hand that Spencer wasn’t holding, his thumb rubbing back and forth across her knuckles.

“She should know I wouldn’t want to move, I told her when I joined the BAU it was my dream,” Y/N said with her voice rising with irritation. “And it was super annoying, she acted like she was surprised that would be my answer. I don’t want to end up like how JJ did where she had to move to state by force. That was stupid. I just, she thinks she can have everything she wants-”

Spencer’s laughter cut her off.

“Why are you laughing?” She asked with furrowed brows.

“You’re overreacting, if you said no then nothing will happen, JJ’s case was special,” he told her with a reassuring look. “And also you’re just cute when you’re irritated,” he shrugged.

Her eyebrows raised in question. “Oh yeah?”

She let go of his hand and quickly reached for a pillow behind her head. She sat up on her knees and smacked him with the pillow.

“Am I cute now?” She giggled and waited for his reaction. He wrapped his arms around her waist and tackled her down to have him laying on top of her. That was enough of a distraction for him to grab his own pillow and smack her with it.

“Very.”

She sat up again and the two had a flat out pillow war. Not a fight, a war.

Eventually, Y/N ended up on top of Spencer, straddling his torso. Her hands grabbed his sides as she tickled him relentlessly.

“Okay, okay, I surrender!” He panted with laughter.

She stopped her assault and moved to lay on him.

“Yay,” she pecked his lips and moved off of him to cuddle into his side.

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