#it's honestly a brilliant bit of 'i bet you have this figured out huh.. Wrong!'. otherwise tho yeah this is not a great film. also it's
Note
Congrats!!! I love your writing!! I’d like to request a blurb with #36 from the general list and #41 from fluf 💕💕💕
thank you so much! enjoy!
I don’t really like this piece too much, so please let me know what you think!
wc ↠ 1.7k
General #36 ↠ “Do you trust me?” “No.”
Fluff #41 ↠ “You say you hate him but your red face is telling me otherwise.”
Spencer Reid had hated her from the moment he met her.
Y/N was absolutely sure of it. When they met for the first time when she joined the BAU, he seemed polite enough. Though he just never let her in the same way he let in the other team members. She understood at first, Spencer had known the rest of the team for years at that point. She even found herself incredibly attracted to the young genius, developing somewhat of a crush on him. His reputation certainly proceeded him, particularly when it came to his issues with germs, so she kept to herself. She understood it would take him time to get used to her, but where the rest of the team warmed to Y/N and accepted her as a part of their family; Spencer never did.
During paperwork days when Y/N would get up to make coffee in the corner of the bullpen, Spencer would already be in the kitchenette, stirring his sugar in with intent. She’d always offer him a polite smile and some light conversation. However, it seemed that as soon as she started to speak, Spencer would pick up his coffee and head back to his desk. She let that go, thinking perhaps she was getting too much in his personal space, though it hung around in the back of her mind for weeks afterwards.
After cases when they’d get on the jet to go back home, she would take a seat opposite him, offer him a kind smile and then pull out a book to read, wholly intent on minding her own business. But Spencer, without even looking up at her, would simply get up and move to an empty seat at the other end of the jet.
Y/N exchanged a look with JJ, who had just shrugged in response. She couldn’t understand Spencer’s dislike for the woman who’d been nothing but kind, and who the team were all already incredibly fond of. She had good initiative, was brilliant in the field and had a capability to pick up on patterns earlier than the rest of them, sometimes even before the resident genius himself. The team suspected that Spencer’s supposed hatred for her was actually his poor attempt at disguising the fact that he was madly in love with her, but he never confirmed nor denied it.
Then somehow, as if she didn’t already think Spencer hated her enough, it got worse. Any time she made contributions to their group conversations, Spencer would cut her off. It was belittling, honestly. It made her second guess her intelligence whenever she’d pose a theory. Every time, without fail, Spencer would pipe up and say, ‘You’re wrong. It’s actually more plausible that—‘
One day, they were sat around the roundtable, having finished debriefing after a long case. The team exchanged murmurs of plans to head down to the bar, with Garcia smiling enthusiastically and insisting that the first round was on her. Y/N had felt pretty awful for the majority of the case, and to top it off she was sure she was coming down with a cold too.
“How about you, Y/L/N? You coming?” Morgan piped up, his usual smirk on his lips.
She forced a smile, scoffing. “No, I think I’m just gonna head home, but thank you.”
Morgan shook his head, determined. “Come on. Even Reid’s coming!”
Y/N looked over at Spencer then, who busied himself with packing away items in his satchel, although she didn’t miss the scowl that seemed to plant itself on his face. She looked back to Morgan. “Sorry Morgan, I’m just not feeling it.”
Morgan sighed, but still tried one last time, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “You sure? It’ll be fun, maybe you and Reid will finally start getting along after a few drinks.”
“Y/N bit her lip, shaking her head. “I’m sure there’s at least a hundred other people that Reid would rather spend the evening with.”
At that comment, Spencer threw his satchel strap over his shoulder and left the room in a hurry, a look on his face that seemingly resembled hurt.
Y/N swatted Morgan’s shoulder playfully. “Look what you’ve done now! You know how much Reid hates me.” She whined.
Morgan chuckled. “Please, Pretty Boy doesn’t hate you.”
“Uh-huh, sure.”
“It’s true! Don’t tell anyone I told you, but the team has an ongoing bet on when you two will finally admit your feelings for one another.” He leaned in closer to her. “And I’ve got $20 riding on it being in the summer, if you could help a guy out?”
Y/N groaned at that. “Well be prepared to lose your money, it’s never going to happen. Spencer Reid hates me, and do you know what? I hate him too.” She said defiantly, although it was all too obvious that she was lying through her teeth.
Morgan smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. “You say you hate him, but your red face is telling me otherwise.”
Y/N just waved him off, ignoring how he chuckled at how flustered she’d gotten, and that was that.
Reid’s quite frankly petty behaviour was really winding down on Y/N mentally, and although Hotch often told him off for his snarky comments or gave him the third degree for constantly trying to one-up her, Spencer persisted.
They’d been working on a new case for a week, and Garcia had just sent the team the location of where the unsub was holding his fourth victim hostage. Hopping out of the SUV’s, the team regrouped in front of the house as Hotch ran over the plan with them.
“JJ, Morgan and Rossi, you’re with me. Y/L/N and Reid will take the back. We take the unsub in alive if possible, understand?” He instructed, everyone nodding as they reached for their guns.
“Can’t you switch Morgan and Y/L/N over?” Spencer began to whine but was quickly shut down by Hotch shooting him a warning look. He scoffed, rolling his eyes in defeat. “Great.”
After entering through the back of the house, the two began checking each room they passed by. As they rounded a corner, stalking towards a closed door, Spencer moved so he was in front of Y/N, in what she noticed was an almost protective manner. He leaned closer to the door, listening intently for any sign that the unsub was inside.
“Is he in there?” She whispered, and Spencer looked back at her, nodding.
“I think so.”
Y/N closed her eyes for a moment in thought, running over the important details of the profile in her head. “Do you trust me?”
Spencer scoffed quietly. “No.”
“Well, you’re not going to have a choice.” She mumbled, and before Spencer realised what was happening, Y/N had burst open the door, her gun drawn.
*
Y/N was stood in the local police station’s conference room, collecting together files and taking down crime scene photos from the evidence board. The case had ended well. Based off of the profile, Y/N had decided that the best course of action was to confront the unsub head on- and it worked, too. Hotch had already told her that she’d done well that day, and that made her heart swell with pride. But Spencer? He hadn’t said anything on the ride back to the police station, busying himself with other things as they prepared to head back home.
Y/N sighed at the thought, looking up from the evidence board just as Spencer entered the room. He immediately turned around, heading back out the door when she called out for him.
“Reid!”
He stopped, turning back around. “What, Y/L/N?”
“What is your problem with me?” She asked, exasperated. She was so tired of just accepting his mistreatment, and she refused to do it any longer.
“I don’t have time for this.” He shook his head, turning to leave again.
“Spencer Reid! You’ve made my life hell since I first joined the Bureau and god help me, you are going to tell me what your problem is!”
“My problem?” He countered, his jaw clenched. “My problem is you! Putting yourself in danger like that without a second thought for the consequences.”
“The consequences? It turned out fine! My plan worked!” She bit back, voice rising.
“It was stupid and reckless, you know better than that.” He spat, making Y/N scoff.
“Why do you care?” She shouted frustratedly. “You can barely stand to be in the same room as me, and for the life of me Spencer I cannot figure out what it is that I did to make you hate me so much!”
Spencer’s defensive stance dropped, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find appropriate words. “Y/N, I know you think I do, but I don’t hate you.”
She gave a humourless chuckle. “Yeah, well you could’ve fooled me.” She sighed, hands running over her face as she attempted to calm herself down. “I don’t understand why me putting myself in danger bothers you so much-”
“Maybe because I love you!”
The silence that fell between them only lasted a handful of seconds. Spencer, prompted by the look of shock on Y/N’s face, scrambled to explain himself.
“I don’t hate you. I-I don’t really think I could if I tried.” He reiterated, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. “I’ve loved you since the day I first met you.”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly so dry. “I don’t understand-“
“I’m so sorry, I know how poorly I’ve treated you. The only explanation I can offer is that I was so sure you wouldn’t feel the same that I thought it would be better to push you away than face rejection.” He whispered, moving closer to her, shame in his tone.
“You love me?” She murmured in disbelief. The words barely left her lips, so faint and shaky that Spencer nearly hadn’t heard her.
He laughed quietly, as though he was laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “Yes, yes I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”
He’d moved to stand before her, the two of them looking at one another in absolute awe that they both felt the same way. Spencer’s eyes trailed down to her lips, moving back up to meet her eyes.
Y/N didn’t know how to respond, looking up at him incredulously. “Spencer..”
He bit down his lip, the words leaving his lips in a whisper. “Would it- would it be alright if I kissed you?”
She was nodding before she’d even processed his words, and when his lips met hers- it was euphoric. Like they were simply meant to be.
Perhaps Spencer Reid wasn’t that bad after all.
#kate writes blurbs☘️#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer x y/n#matthew gray gubler#matthew gray gubler x reader#mgg x reader#mgg#criminal minds
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You’re not my type [Hotch x Reader]
Summary: Reader is the new press liaison to the elite Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. A stray comment from her leads to a lot of questions from her teammates, especially her unit chief, Aaron Hotchner. When they’re thrown together on a case that hits close to home for Reader, will that comment tear them apart? Or will it bring them closer together?
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner / (Female) Reader
Rating: Mature
Category: Angst then smut, with plenty of fluff sprinkled throughout.
Word Count: 8.4k
Content Warning: This gets pretty angst heavy in places. The team is chasing an Unsub that’s a serial r*pist/mu*derer. Mentions of an attempted a*sault to someone Reader cares about. Providing comfort to victims of the unsub. It’s dark in places, but if you can stick with me, I promise I will mend the angst and take you to the land of smut and fluff. Because there is plenty of smut.
A/n: Have you ever had a story that just grabbed hold of you and refused to let go? This story was supposed to be half this length and pure fluff. Reader and Hotch dug their claws into me and made me tell their own story. I’m not mad at it, and if you give it a chance, I hope you love it as much as I do.
masterlist
y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized text = reader’s thoughts
--“You’re not my type” --
The clock was moving so slowly, I couldn't help but think it was moving backward.
Come on, hurry up. I wanna go home.
I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that it was going to be 4:30 pm for the rest of my life. I still had some files to hand out to the team; I usually do that part of my very glamorous job in the mornings, but since I had nothing but time now, I thought why not.
I had been a “sort of” member of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit for 5 months. Jennifer- wait, JJ, had the job as media liaison before me; she was the last person to officially hold the position. When she left the unit chief of the BAU, Aaron Hotchner, and the technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, had split the roll. That is until Chief Strauss had decided that she wanted the BAU to run more efficiently. Meaning that Hotch got less paperwork, Garcia got a break from talking about mutilated bodies, and I got shuffled around from the public relations office.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed working with the team, I really did, but I couldn't help but feel excluded sometimes. They're all practically a family. I didn't really have any sort of family anymore, just a best friend that has always felt more like a sister.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I made my way towards the bullpen, shoving the doors open to see the team sitting on various desks talking to each other. Loudly.
“Shut UP, man!” Derek Morgan’s voice was loud, but amusement was clear on his face. Actually, everyone seemed sort of amused. Rossi and Hotch were leaning on the railing near their respective offices, watching the events unfold with smiles on their faces.
Hotch smiles? Huh. Weird.
I quickly tried to make my way around them, hoping none of them would notice me.
“Okay, I know how we can settle this. Y/n!” Shit. No such luck. I turned to look at Emily Prentiss, with her long dark hair and angular face. Why is everybody here so fucking pretty?
I cleared my throat, trying to compose my face. “Yes?”
“Answer something for us.” Everyone seemed very eager for me to be a part of this now, which I didn’t think was a good sign.
“I’ll do my best.”
She smiled at me like she was sensing her victory. "If Morgan asked you on a date, what would you say?"
Oh, they couldn’t have picked a worse person to play this game.
I chuckled awkwardly, trying to appear calm. “Um…I’d probably say no.” Morgan took a dramatically loud breath before slapping his hand to his chest. “No offense,” I quickly added.
Morgan wasn’t giving up his dramatics that easily. “Damn, girl! You’re gonna cut me down just like that?”
“I’m sorry,” I said with an awkward laugh. “You’re just not my type.”
Garcia’s eyebrows hit her hairline. “Excuse me? He’s not your type? Tall, dark, and extremely well-muscled isn’t your type?” She scoffed like I was insane; I mean, maybe I was. Jury’s out. “What about that is unappealing to you?”
I couldn’t think of a believable lie, so I went with the truth. “The tall and extremely well-muscled part.” I shifted from foot to foot anxiously.
Emily blinked. “O-okay. Fair enough,” she laughed, looking at me like she’d never seen me before.
I was preparing to turn and make a very quick escape, but JJ had other plans. "Woah, woah, woah," the blonde hopped off the desk, walking a bit closer to me. "If Morgan isn't your type…who is?"
Fuck me running. “Um…” I trailed off. “I don’t think I really have a type, to be honest.”
"Do you like men," Morgan chimed in. "No judgment, little mama."
Not for the first time, I wished I was a lesbian. “I am sadly mostly heterosexual.” I was convinced no one could be completely heterosexual, it just didn’t seem natural.
Emily chuckled at that. “Okay then,” her hand moved up to adjust her dark bangs, something she did when she was thinking. “What if Hotch asked you out?”
“Okay, okay, don’t drag me into this,” the Unit Chef boomed out, much to Rossi’s amusement.
“…Um.” Why couldn’t I just die? “Sorry, boss, but no.”
Morgan crossed his arms over his chest. “Is Hotch also too tall and well-muscled.”
“Probably,” I answered without much thought. “I can’t comment on the state of his muscles. But he’s very…big. And he intimidates me.” I didn’t let my eyes stray to my boss; I simply couldn’t.
"Ah-ha. There it is!" Morgan slapped his hands together like he had solved some big puzzle. "You don't like men that intimidate you. So, if pretty boy over here asked you out, you'd say yes."
I didn't know a person's ears could blush until that moment when my eyes drifted over to Dr. Spencer Reid. The tips of his ears were bright pink and he was looking anywhere but at me.
I answered honestly again, I figured they’d know if I lied. Fucking profilers. “Yeah, I would say yes. But only if I didn’t know him.” Spencer’s eyes finally shifted over towards me. “You’re easily one of the most brilliant people in the world. You’d be bored to tears on a date with me,” I said, my gaze meeting his wide eyes.
The boy genius’s head tilted ever so slightly to the side, his lips moving like he muttered something under his breath.
Is it 5 yet?
JJ wasn’t totally prepared to let this go, because she asked, “Okay, so a yes to Spence, a no to Hotch and Morgan.” She tapped her chin with her index finger. “What about Will? You’ve met my husband, right?”
I had indeed met her husband with his Princess and The Frog accent. I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I met him the other day when he brought your son by. And…I don’t know, maybe him. He doesn’t give off an air of intimidation.” Which was the nicest way I could say ‘your husband doesn’t scare the shit out of me.’
I glanced down at my watch, seeing it was finally 4:55 pm. “Sorry guys, I need to get these files out before I go home.” With an overly bright smile, I darted away as fast as my uncomfortable shoes would let me.
My final stop was Hotch’s office, and I was so relieved that he wasn’t in it for once. I placed the file on his desk, looking at the pictures of a little boy, his son, I assumed, on his desk.
“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”
I'm not sure what I was more embarrassed by, the tiny yelp that escaped my lips or how I smacked my hand over my chest in such a dramatic fashion that I could have given Derek Morgan a run for his money. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hotch! You scared the shit out of me!"
His lips twitched in poorly concealed amusement, either at my reaction or my swearing at him. “Sorry, y/n. I didn’t know I needed to knock before I entered my office. I’ll try to do better next time.”
Oh, this guy has jokes now too.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at his dry humor. “I’m sorry. I startle easily. I didn’t mean to swear at you.”
“Y/n, I’ve been with the bureau for almost 20 years. Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”
I bet he has.
“Well,” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Alright then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”
“Of course,” he stepped out of the doorway so I could exit. “Y/n?” He said it like it was an afterthought. “Do you really find me intimidating?”
My eyes were wide as I looked all the way up at him. Really, what was the point in being that tall? "Oh, absolutely, sir." Then I hurried out the door, not wanting to see his reaction or lack thereof.
--
After stopping by my office, I was waiting for the elevator when I felt someone behind me; turning I saw the pretty boy himself standing awkwardly off to my side. I offered him a small smile before shifting my attention back to the bank of elevators in front of me.
The middle one opened first, Spencer waved me in first before he entered and hit the button for the ground floor.
He was clearly working up his nerves to say something, you didn’t have to be a profiler to see that. “Hey, um, y/n?” I turned my head in his direction, waiting for him to continue. “What you said back there…that you’d go on a date with me if I asked, did you mean that?”
There was that blush again, he really was adorable. “Of course, I meant it, Spencer.” He didn’t look convinced. “I mean, why would I lie? I turned Morgan down right away. And Hotch, who is my boss.”
Spencer let out a small laugh at that, unable to argue against my point. “I guess that’s true.” The elevator doors opened, he waved me out first, again, before exiting himself. “Do you really think that I’d be bored on a date with you?”
"I mean, you have 3 Ph.D.'s and a super high IQ." I waved my free hand around, gesturing to myself like it would help me prove my point. "And look at me. I'm smart, but I'm not that smart. I couldn't put you through a date like that."
He didn’t seem to appreciate my self-deprecating humor. I headed for the doors without giving him a chance to respond. “Have a good night, Dr. Reid!” I offered a small wave before I all but sprinted out the doors towards the parking garage.
Why? Just why?
--
“We have to catch him before this turns into a spree,” Hotch’s voice was grave, his face the same stern mask it always was. “Wheels up in 30.”
Taking that as a dismissal, the team rose from the table, hurrying towards their respective desks to get their go-bags. That was the part of this job that took the longest to get used to. I never traveled much in public relations; now I'm on a plane several times a week. That in itself wouldn't be so bad…if I didn't still get terrible motion sickness. I don’t know why I hadn’t gotten used to it yet, but I had to keep some non-drowsy motion sickness pills in my go-bag at all times. I tried to take them before I boarded the jet; it was probably silly, but I didn’t really want the team to know. They were all superheroes in my eyes; superheroes don’t get motion sickness.
I was the last one to board the jet today. I was usually one of the first onboard, but I got held up on my way here speaking to someone from my old office. When I came through the plane's doors there rest of the team was spread out. Dr. Reid was laying on the couch, book propped open in his lap. Emily and JJ were on one side of the table with Morgan and Rossi on the other. The only seats available were towards the back of the plane; I could have sat by myself…or I could sit in the seat across from Hotch.
I always get anxiety about things other people find silly. I’m a grown woman, I should be more confident; I’m a fucking FBI agent for god’s sake. Yet here I was, nervously trying to decide where to sit. It would be weird to not sit near him, I reasoned. Offering Hotch a tight smile before I stored my go-bag, I sat down across the aisle from him.
I fastened my seatbelt over my lap, taking deep breaths through my nose. I had taken my medicine, but take off always got me a little bit, no matter what. I never took a window seat either, sometimes I’d look out and see how fast the world was passing by underneath us and…I shuddered just thinking about it.
"Hey," the voice beside me called, his voice was so quiet I don't think any of the others could hear it. I opened my eyes and turned to face him. His dark eyes looked oddly soft like he was concerned about me. "Are you alright?"
I offered him a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m okay, Hotch.”
"Did you take your medicine?" At my puzzled expression, he clarified. "For motion sickness."
What in the- “How did you know I get motion sickness?”
The corners of his mouth quirked up. “I’m a profiler, y/n, and I’ve been one for a long time.”
A little chuckle left my lips at that, right as the plane started moving forward, gaining speed for takeoff. I closed my eyes, telling myself that it was the impending take off that was causing my stomach to flutter, not the fact that my boss, who I thought was always indifferent to me, noticed me more than I thought he did.
--
Cases with kids were the hardest, there was no question about it. For me, the second hardest cases were women who were assaulted. It filled my gut with such a heavy, boiling rage whenever I thought about it. These women were just living their lives, unaware of the danger that was hunting them. Some fucking monster decided that being a man in our society didn’t offer him enough power; he had to hurt women, try to take their power so that he could feel more powerful.
I had heard stories about Elle Greenaway, the agent that resigned under suspicion that she shot a rapist in cold blood. I never commented on it, but I can’t say as I blame her. That attitude is probably why I don’t comment on it, I thought dryly.
The unsub the team was hunting in Northern Texas was a serial rapist and murderer. He had claimed 3 victims in the past 2 weeks; the locals were concerned that his pattern and level of violence were escalating too rapidly. The BAU agreed.
They started piecing this monster together through the clues he left behind. A white male, mid 30's, has a high-power job, won't be able to have stable relationships with women. They were tracking his comfort zone, interviewing families, and canvassing for information.
My job was to warn the women of this small town that there was a monster lurking in the shadows.
The team was sitting around in a small room in the center of the police station that was crammed with evidence boards. Emily was leaned back in her chair, JJ's head resting on her shoulder. Dr. Reid was facing the map of the county like if he stared at it long enough and answer would just pop into his head. Morgan's head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Rossi and Hotch were talking in the corner, glancing around the room every so often.
Eventually, our leader cleared his throat. "Okay, lets head back to the hotel." At the groans of a few team members, he pressed on. "I know, I want to find this guy too. But we all need rest. We'll come back tomorrow with fresh eyes."
With that, we all headed to the black SUVs parked outside, ready to head to whatever hotel the bureau put us in for the night. The drive was quick, we all stood in the lobby while Hotch spoke to whoever was at the front desk. The conversation seemed to take longer than I needed to.
He walked back over, looking mildly uncomfortable. “There aren’t enough open rooms,” he said at last. “We’ll have to double up.” He held out his hand which contained 3 key cards.
…Wait a minute. “There are 7 of us.”
Hotch nodded. “Therein lies the problem. One room will have to have 3 people.”
I turned towards Emily and JJ, assuming I’d just room with them when Rossi interrupted. “No offense, guys. But…I’m old,” he laughed, his whole face lighting up. “I need my beauty sleep. I’m not sharing a room. I’ll go get my own.”
"They don't have any rooms, Dave."
Rossi looked at Hotch with a patronizing little smile that would have been extremely offensive coming from anyone else. “They don’t have any rooms for you," he clarified. "Not only am I old, but I'm also rich."
Sure enough, he walked over to the desk and spoke to the clerk for less than a minute before he was handed a keycard.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Morgan said with a laugh.
Rossi turned to us then, his eyes filled with poorly hidden mirth. “Sogni d’oro!” And with that, he walked towards the elevators.
“Huh?” JJ asked, her voice scratchy.
“Sweet dreams,” Reid and Prentiss supplied at the same time.
“Right.” Morgan shook his head. “Come on pretty Ricky.”
It hit me right then. Oh hell.
Hotch seemed to realize it at the same time Prentiss did. “Y/n, you room with JJ, I’ll stay with Hotch.”
Somehow this was more embarrassing than the conversation in the bullpen. “No,” I said quickly. “No, you guys go. I’ll room with Hotch.” I put a smile on my face, hoping I was convincing.
“Y/l/n, you just said that I intimidated you.”
Again, why couldn’t the earth just swallow me up? My laugh was forced, but hopefully, they hadn't heard my real laugh enough to know the difference. "Intimidated to go on a date with, Hotch. This isn't like that." Right? “C’mon! I’m sleepy.”
With that display of false bravado, I grabbed a key and made my way towards the elevators. I felt his presence behind me as we walked down the hall towards our rooms. I tried to control my heartbeat, calm my breathing the closer we got to the room. This is ridiculous, y/n. I had shared a room with Morgan before, no problem. I was comfortable around the team, I really was. Not for the first time, I wish I had the sense to not open my big mouth.
I reached for the door right when Hotch cleared his throat; I busied myself with getting into the room, ignoring him. Was it cowardly? Yes. Did I care? Not at that moment.
Until I walked into the room…and saw that there was one bed. Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me. “What is this, a rom-com?” I apparently didn’t mumble that part as quietly as I thought I had given the soft laugh I heard come from the man behind me.
“Y/n,” he said, his hand coming to my shoulder. “I didn’t realize there would only be one bed. Come on, let’s go down to Prentiss and JJ’s room.”
I let out a groan. “Hoooootch,” I whined. “All of this is just making me more embarrassed. This wouldn’t even be an issue if I hadn’t been a dumbass and opened my big mouth. This isn’t a big deal but going to talk to them will make it a big deal.”
He didn't look convinced, but I was so tired. I reached out and grabbed his arm before I could think better of it. "Aaron," my voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it was like he'd been struck by lightning. His eyes snapped up to mine, his lips parted slightly. It was then I realized I'd never called him by his first name before. "I trust you with my life. You'd intimidate me if I didn't know you. But I do know you, Aaron." My gaze never wavered from his.
“Okay.”
--
I laid in bed for 30 minutes pretending to be asleep. I listened to his breathing even out and I kept my back to him the entire time. I had tried to keep my bedtime routine brief, taking a quick shower and changing into my sleep shorts and a baggy shirt I’d had since college. My hair was pulled back so I wouldn’t get it wet in the shower.
The weirdest thing was seeing Hotch in normal clothes. In all the months I’d worked with him, I had never seen him not in a suit. He had a pair of flannel pajama pants on, a gray t-shirt stretched over his broad chest. He has really nice arms, I thought.
When I was sure he was asleep, I rolled over onto my back. My eyes had long since adjusted to the dark, allowing me to just stare at the ceiling.
“You’re thinking very loudly.”
I let out a squeak while my whole body jerked. "Goddamnit, Hotch!” That asshole had the nerve to chuckle. “Stop scaring me!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding even slightly sorry.
“I thought you were asleep.”
He rolled onto his back; I felt his eyes on my face. “I know,” was all he said.
I sighed, wondering how I had gotten myself into such a situation. “You really don’t intimidate me.” He made a noise which caused me to amend my statement. “Alright, alright. You do intimidate me. You’re just so…stern. And you’re so tall. What is the purpose of being that tall? It’s excessive. And I feel like your eyes can see through every single thing about me. I didn’t know you had muscles until today, but I always assumed you did. They’re very nice muscles-“ I cut myself off. Fuck.
That was the first time I ever heard Aaron Hotchner laugh. Not chuckle, not snicker quietly. He actually laughed. His laugh was a higher pitch than his speaking voice; it boomed out of him and transformed the whole mood in the room. That laugh warmed a part of my heart that I wasn’t comfortable thinking about. A huge grin broke out on my face. I made him laugh, and I was oddly proud of it.
“Thanks, y/n,” his voice was still filled with amusement. “I hadn’t known you were curious about the state of my muscles. You should have just said something.”
My head snapped to the side so my eyes could meet his. He was teasing me. SSA Aaron Hotchner, BAU unit Chief, was teasing me. I lifted my hand to his arm, giving him a shove. His bicep feels like granite. “Shut up.”
That asshat just kept laughing at me.
“Anyway, you do intimidate me,” my voice was soft again. “But I’m not afraid of you.”
Aaron regarded me thoughtfully. “So, it’s not that you’re not attracted to intimidating men,” he surmised. “You’re afraid of men.”
“Not all men,” I countered. “I’m afraid of men like you. Not you, but ones like you. You overwhelm me.”
He was quiet for a few moments. “Y/n…did someone hurt you?”
It was a natural question, a normal thought process; I should have expected the question. I felt tears prick the corner of my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered, feeling safe in the darkness of the room, safe but still so alone. “But not in the way you think.” I filled my lungs with a deep breath, hoping I would find some courage. It wasn’t until I felt his hand brush over mine, his calloused fingers brushing over the back of my hand, that I finally found it. I flipped my palm up and laced my fingers through his. He gave me a reassuring squeeze.
“I’ve had the same best friend all my life,” I began. “She’s marvelous. We’ve always been together; her mom said we were like peanut butter and jelly. I love her like she’s a part of me, Aaron.” I knew he would understand; I just knew it. “We were in college when it happened. We went to this frat party because I had a crush on some guy.” My voice was filled with venom and bitterness. “He was overwhelming, so tall, and so handsome. There was a darkness in him, but I was too young to see it. She did; my best friend could see he was a monster. I didn’t listen.” My breath was shuddering through me. “I didn’t listen to her, Hotch.”
He didn't say anything. He just shifted in the bed and pulled me to him, nestling me into his side, wrapping his arms around me while I laid my head on his chest. "I was so mad at her. So mad." The shame from all those years ago was still so fresh. "She took my drink and threw it on the floor. I told her she was embarrassing me… So, I went outside to get some air."
His arm tightened around me, his free hand coming up to stroke my hair. “You don’t have to-“
“I do,” I said, refusing to let another sob escape. “I came back inside and couldn’t find either of them. I thought maybe she was going to hook up with some guy…but she isn’t like that. She’s never been like that.” My stomach rolled at the thought; sometimes when I closed my eyes I could still smell the beer in the air, I could still feel the wood of the banister under my fingers. “I found them in a room upstairs. He had her pinned on the bed, he was-he-he was trying to take her pants off.” I didn’t deserve the comfort Aaron offered me in that moment, but I clung to him, grateful for it. “I screamed, and I guess I scared him. She kneed him and was able to push him off. We ran all the way home.”
“You saved her, y/n,” Aaron’s voice was so sure, so reassuring, no matter how hard I shook my head ‘no’. “You did. You could have just left; you were mad at her, but you still went back for her.”
I wiped my eyes. “You make it sound so simple.”
His lips pressed softly against my forehead, his hand stroking up and down my back. “That’s because it is.”
--
Things felt different in the harsh light of the police station than they had last night. Aaron was already in the shower when I woke up this morning. I fell asleep in his arms after I told him one of my darkest secrets. He didn't judge me; he didn't tell me I was a terrible person. He just held me; he offered me comfort and made me feel deserving of that comfort.
I dressed quickly and headed downstairs before he got out of the bathroom. My feelings were already swirling around in my head. It wasn’t that I wanted to be away from him, not at all. I just didn’t think it would help my feelings settle down to be confronted by a wet, hot, well-muscled Aaron Hotchner. It was an act of self-preservation if you think about it, I reasoned.
The next time I saw him was when the team was piling back into the SUVs to head to the police station. He offered me a small smile, and I think his eyes may have twinkled a little bit when I smiled back at him a little too brightly.
Profilers.
The team was as refreshed as they could be. Dr. Reid was looking at access and service roads on the map, trying to determine the route the unsub took to dispose of his victims. JJ and Morgan were out canvassing the women's neighborhoods. Rossi was with Prentiss in the sheriff's office speaking with the family of the most recent victim, Bethany Mooreland.
This was the hardest part of my job. I wasn’t a profiler. I felt like I had nothing to offer. I was fielding calls from the media, trying to organize a targeted strategy. The team thought that if the unsub saw that he was being mocked in the press, or his masculinity was called into question in any way, that he would act out more viciously. While acting out might cause him to make a mistake, we couldn’t risk another woman’s life.
The conference room doors burst open, Hotch storming inside with Morgan and JJ hot on his heels. “There’s been another attack.”
I felt my stomach drop. “Fuck.”
“Y/n, she’s alive.”
“…What?!”
The dark-haired man that held me in his arms last night only nodded. “She’s at the hospital. I want you to come with JJ and me to interview her.”
…Me?
--
Summer Webb was 25 years old; she was a customer service rep at a call center just outside of town. She lived alone, had a cat named Pringles, and was close with her family.
I held her hand while JJ and Hotch put her through a cognitive interview. I rubbed her back while she recounted how the unsub only left her because he thought she was dead. Tears ran down my cheeks when she described what he did to her.
Steel and ice ran through my veins when I looked her in the eyes and promised that we would get this monster.
I’d kill him myself if I had to.
Once her mother arrived at the hospital, we left, promising to call with any updates; uniformed officers were stationed outside her hospital door. Hotch spoke to Garcia, then to Rossi, then to Reid, then Garcia again on our ride back. JJ read over Summer’s statement, occasionally jotting down notes.
I was quiet.
Almost. Almost there. I walked into the station without really seeing it. I navigated my way down the hall on instinct. I pushed the door to the bathroom open, looked around to confirm I was alone…then I broke. I placed my hands on the countertop that housed 3 separate sinks, my tears ran down my cheeks and splashed on the fake granite.
I don’t know how long I had been there when I thought I heard a knock on the door. That didn’t make any sense, the door didn’t have a lock; there were multiple stalls in this bathroom.
But I had heard a knock. The door swung open and someone walked inside. I heard him whisper my name, the tone of his voice was so soft, so fucking sad, that it only made me cry harder. Aaron put his hands on my shoulders, turning me around to face him, then letting me collapse against him.
He murmured words I couldn’t understand against the top of my head, he wrapped his arms tight around me; I was sure I would have fallen completely apart if he wasn’t holding me together.
“You must think I’m so weak,” I muttered when my tears had finally slowed.
He stiffened, though his hands never stopped moving, stroking my hair and my back. "Just the opposite, y/n." I pulled back to meet his eyes; I saw nothing but honesty swirling in those dark brown pools. His eyes appeared so dark from far away, almost black. From this close, I could see the subtle shift between various shades of brown. They weren't cold like I had always suspected; Aaron Hotchner's eyes were warm and understanding. They were the eyes of a man who had seen far too much evil for one lifetime but refused to yield his fight for even a second.
I could fall in love with those eyes.
“You’re the furthest thing from weak I’ve ever seen,” he continued. “Your heart is so big that it aches for a woman you don’t even know. It’s alright to cry right now, it’s alright to let yourself fall down for a moment. But I know you, y/n,” he was repeating my words from last night back to me. “You’re going to pull yourself back together. And then you’re going to help us find that son of a bitch before he hurts anyone else.”
Maybe I could fall in love with more than just his eyes.
--
There are certain moments in my life that I will look back on and remember with perfect clarity. That night when I almost lost my best friend, the day I graduated from the academy, the first night I spent in Aaron Hotchner’s arms were just a few.
I would also remember when the call came in from Garcia; how Morgan and Reid ran into the room. How Hotch’s eyes shot to mine when we found out the monster’s name. I didn’t have to ask; he nodded at me, those warm brown eyes were hidden now, hardened by pure ice-cold rage.
I strapped on my vest and road in the back seat in the SUV Morgan drove.
Summer’s monster was named Jeremy Carpenter. Her monster was a white man with brown hair, brown eyes, with a scar on the back of his right hand.
None of us were sure how he knew we were coming, but he had already barricaded himself inside his house. We heard a scream when the first gunshot was fired. I wanted more than anything to bring Summer's monster in alive; I wanted to offer her the chance to face him if she wanted to.
Aaron didn’t ask if I wanted to go to the hospital once everything was over; he really did know me. He took me to see her, he kept his hand on my back while I told Summer and her mother what happened. What I will remember most of all is how her mother hugged me when I told her the monster was gone, that he would never harm anyone ever again. I hit him in his leg; he was in pain before our unit chief put a bullet between his eyes.
We had come to the hospital alone; the rest of the team went back to the station to finish up paperwork. I held his hand on the way back to the hotel; I held his hand while we walked to our room.
I offered him a small smile before I made my way into the bathroom, determined to wash the events of the day off of my skin.
He was gone when I came back out.
--
It goes without saying that I had doubted most men in my life, especially since that night all those years ago.
I never once doubted Aaron Hotchner.
I was sitting on the bed when he came back, staring at the TV without seeing.
“Hey,” he said softly. “I thought you’d still be in the shower.” He set two bags down on the only table in our room. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast. I thought-“
“Hotch,” he looked at me then, his eyes locking onto mine. “Thank you.” I didn’t need to specify for what. He knows.
He pulled our food out while I made my way to the table. I couldn’t hold in my chuckle. “You know I get motion sickness; you know my favorite foods…just how closely do you pay attention to me, Agent Hotchner?”
He didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. “More closely than I should.”
We sat together and ate in comfortable silence. The next time he spoke was to answer a phone call from Jack. I tried to hide my smile while I listened to his conversation. Unlike the rest of his team, I hadn’t gotten to see Aaron Hotchner, the father. What is it about men being good father’s that is so attractive, I mused. Is it biological? I made a note to ask Dr. Reid.
After we ate, he went to shower while I stretched out on our bed, scrolling through my phone. When Hotch emerged from the bathroom he was in another pair of flannel pants paired with a black t-shirt. I pursed my lips in both amusement and disappointment.
“What?” His eyebrow was raised quizzically. Why are his eyebrows hot?
I giggled. "Nothing." At his incredulous look, I amended, "it's nothing interesting."
He sat down beside me on the right side of the bed, his back resting against the headboard. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Hooootch,” I whined, covering my face with my hands. “I’ve already embarrassed myself in front of you enough for one lifetime.”
His hand came up to grab mine, pulling them down from my face. Any attempts I made to wiggle away from him were in vain. Apparently, those muscles aren’t all show and no go. My body had shifted down the bed during my halfhearted struggles, meaning Aaron was now propped up on his elbow, his body angled over mine. “Embarrassed? I don’t remember any embarrassing times,” he pretended to give this some thought. “Unless you’re referring to last night when you mentioned how much you think about my muscles?”
I tried to jerk my arms out of his hands, but he held fast, laughing openly while my face turned red. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you not talking about that?” He pushed my arms back onto the bed, rising to his knees, positioning his body over me, his face hovering over mine. “Then it must have been when you lied to the whole team a few days ago.”
I squeaked in outrage. “I didn’t lie about anything!”
He was so beautiful when that scowl left his face. “Yes, you did!” he insisted. “You said you wouldn’t say ‘yes’ if I asked you out. And, based on the evidence, I have to say I don’t believe that to be true.”
“Oh, I forgot I was dealing with a former prosecutor.” He nodded gravely, earning another giggle from me. “Okay, counselor. What’s the evidence?”
“The most glaring piece of evidence is you won’t tell me what you were thinking when you were looking at me when I came out of the shower.”
I let out a whine, accepting my fate. He’s literally on top of you, dumbass. Something tells me he’s gonna be receptive. “Okay, okay. I may have…hurried out of the room this morning while you were in the shower.”
Hotch quirked an eyebrow. “I know. Go on.”
“Asshole,” I muttered, delighted when he laughed. Hearing his laugh was one thing, but seeing it too? My insides were basically liquid. “I may have ran as an act of self-preservation. I was…worried that you’d come out of the bathroom in a towel. And you’d be wet, and hot, and I would…make an idiot out of myself, much like I am now.”
Aaron was delighted by how bright red my face turned; he made no attempt to hide his amusement. “So, just now, you were disappointed that I came out fully clothed?”
“Hotch,” I moaned out in embarrassment. He wasn’t making this easy on me.
My eyes were shut tight, my head turned away from him like this would somehow prevent him from seeing me. His left hand lifted from my wrist, his fingers coming to rest on my chin, turning my face towards him. "If you're going to moan my name while we're in bed, y/n, I'd prefer if you called me Aaron." My eyes snapped open. His eyes were still warm, teasing, but there was a certain heat in them I hadn’t seen before that made my lower belly flutter. He leaned closer to my face. “It would be hard for me to focus at work if you every time you said ‘Hotch’ I thought about you like this.”
I waited for a few moments for him to act before I realized Aaron couldn’t cross the line first. He wouldn’t be mean if I rejected him; that wasn’t the type of man he was. But the choice was mine; it had always been mine.
I lifted my free hand up to cup the side of his face, urging him closer to me. The first brush of my lips over his was so soft I wasn't sure it was even happening. It was so hesitant but so pure that it made me ache. Aaron pulled back to look at me; he was breathing hard like he had been running instead of just kissing me.
“Y/n…”
“Don’t profile me, Aaron.” I lifted my head, my teeth nipping at his bottom lip. “I want this. I want you.”
His posture shifted, he released my left arm to brace himself above me with his arms caging me in; he moved his legs, wedging one of his thighs in between mine. “I’m not profiling you. I can see how much you want this.” No need to sound so arrogant. “But I need to be sure…I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.”
My hands moved up to touch him, one hand feeling the soft hair at the nape of his neck that was still a little damp from the shower; my other hand gripped his bicep. “Then touch me, Aaron. Please.”
I wasn’t ready for the full force of Aaron Hotchner. He was the most intense man I had ever known, and that intensity didn’t stop in the bedroom. Aaron didn’t kiss me, he tried to consume me. His mouth moved over mine with a carnal hunger that made me throb, shifting against his firm thigh that was rested against me. I was desperate for any friction. I felt his hand move down from where it was cupping my face to rest on my collarbone, his thumb tracing over the base of my throat.
His lips moved off of mine to blaze a path down my jaw, his teeth nipping at the skin there before he moved back to my lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He pushed his thigh against the seam of my body, causing a whimper to escape from my throat. I didn’t even mind the smirk that covered his mouth. “We’ll get there. Just let me make you feel good.”
I opened my mouth to him; his tongue swirled around mine while the hand that wasn’t bracing him up moved to my hip. His fingers ran over the skin of my stomach that was exposed from my shirt riding up. I placed my hand over his, guiding it further up my stomach; how was I supposed to take my mouth away from his to tell him what I wanted?
Of course, Aaron knew what I needed; I was beginning to learn that he always did. His fingers trailed up my body until he got to the underside of my breast; the callouses that roughened his fingertips were heaven on my overly sensitive skin. My mouth broke away from his in a guttural cry when those fingers finally found my nipple. Aaron moved his kisses down to the side of my throat. I felt his breath against my throat when he murmured, “you’re so sexy, y/n.”
Raising up on his knees, he started tugging my shirt up; I lifted my upper body so I could slide my shirt off quickly. I heard Aaron groan when my chest was revealed to him, but I was on a mission of my own. Once I had his shirt pulled up over his abdomen, Aaron reached behind his back and pulled his shirt off at the neck.
My nails raked down the skin that covered his chest, reveling in the groan that left his mouth. He leaned over me again, his lips wasting no time before they covered my nipple. My hands tried to grip the short hair at the back of his head.
“Aaron,” I gasped out. “I need…more. Please.”
He started kissing his way to my other breast. “What do you need, sweetheart? Do you want to grind against my thigh? Do you need to use me to get off?” His tongue flicked over my nipple. “Or do you want me to use my hand? Is that what you need, Angel?” My heart stuttered at the sweet nickname just as much as it did at his filthy words. “Do you need me to put my fingers in your pussy?”
My thighs were shifting restlessly. “Yes, yes, please Aaron.”
When his mouth closed around my nipple, I felt his left-hand slide down into my shorts, then into my panties. He shifted his wrist, allowing his hand to cup me. He groaned against my skin. "I haven't even put a finger inside of you and I can already feel how wet you are. Your little cunt is just dripping for me.”
I didn’t have a chance to respond before he parted my lips, his finger ghosting over my clit, causing my back to arch off the bed. He smirked but didn’t tease me further; he slid his fingers down to my opening before pushing his middle and ring finger inside of me, using the heel of his hand to grind against my clit. I moved my hand to my mouth, having to bite on my skin to silence the scream that his actions brought forward.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He leaned back, never pausing the movement of his fingers. “Are you trying to be quiet? Do you not want everyone in this hotel to know how wet you are? How desperate you are to have my fingers inside of you?” All I could do was nod. “It’s all right, baby. Once we get home, I’ll hear you scream for me. But for now; be a good girl and try to be quiet. I’m the only one that gets to hear what you sound like when you cum for me.”
I was grinding against him, working my hips desperately, matching his rhythm. I was so close. “Aaron, NO!” was all I could say when he removed his fingers from inside me. The man just smiled at me, looking me straight in my eyes when he put his fingers in his mouth, licking me off of them.
He grabbed my shorts and panties at my hips, roughly jerking them off my body. “When we get home,” he said as he slowly started to push his own pajama pants down. “The first thing I’m going to do is lay on my back and make you put this pussy on my mouth. You taste so good, angel.” His cock sprang free; he was so much thicker than I expected. I was transfixed, just watching his fist pump up and down his hard length. “Will you do that for me? Will you ride my face?”
“Yes,” I was so desperate I would agree to anything in that moment. “I’ll do anything. Just please fuck me, Aaron.”
He used the fingers of his free hand to part my pussy lips again, rubbing over my clit. “I don’t have a condom, sweetheart, but-“
“I’m on the pill,” I reach out to grip his shoulders, pulling him on top of me. “I trust you. I trust you with everything. I need you inside me, Aaron.”
He shoved my thighs open, running the head of his cock up and down my pussy, coating himself in my arousal. He looked up at me again, giving me another moment to back out, before he slowly started to push inside of me. He stroked in and out of me, going a little bit deeper each time until he bottomed out. Aaron’s head fell to the dip of my shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking tight.” He started moving then. Slowly pulling out before he shoved himself back inside me. My hands were on his back, my nails digging into his skin. I wrapped my legs around his back, trying to draw him deeper inside me.
“You feel so good,” I whisper, biting his shoulder to keep my moans quiet.
Aaron raised up on straight arms, changing the tempo of his thrusts. “You’re not doing a very good job of being quiet, baby.” I whimpered; I couldn’t help it. “I think we might have to do something about that. He quickly pulled out of me; I didn’t have time to complain before he flipped me over, gripping my hips and lifting me up on to my knees. His hand palmed my ass cheek while he leaned over me, his breath hot on my ear. “This is how you need to be fucked.”
Raising up, he lined himself up and slammed inside of me. I bit my lip so hard that I could taste blood; Aaron tangled his hands in the back of my hair, pulling my head up while he set a brutal pace. "Quiet, baby. You don't want everyone to know what a dirty girl you are. Screaming for my cock, so wet that you're dripping down your thighs." His pace didn't slow down; I felt my orgasm rising up inside me. "Touch your clit for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you cum on my cock."
My fingers began circling my clit in a frenzy, causing my pussy to flutter around him. “That’s a good girl. Such a good girl for me. Can you be quiet when you cum? Or do I need to shove your face down in the mattress while I fuck you?” He gave a dark chuckle at my needy whine. “That’s what I thought.”
In the way that he knew everything, Aaron knew when my orgasm was peaking. He pushed my head down, never too hard, but hard enough. I bit the comforter in an attempt to silence my scream. I felt myself clamp down around his thick cock. My orgasm broke inside me so quickly. I screamed his name while I came; the comforter silenced some of it, but he heard it. That scream along with my pussy cumming on him was ultimately his undoing. He gave a few final thrusts before he went all the way, holding himself inside me as deep as he could, filling me with his cum.
I collapsed after that. I had never felt anything like this before. Aaron was there, knowing what I needed even when I didn’t. He held me for a moment until I caught my breath. Then he went into the bathroom, coming back with a damp washcloth to clean me up. He was so tender with my sensitive flesh; he didn’t say anything, he just focused on his task.
Once he was satisfied, he laid down beside me, drawing me into his side just as he’d done the night before. I couldn’t help the dry chuckle that left my exhausted body. Aaron made a ‘hmm’ noise. “I was just thinking about last night,” I said quietly, my voice raw from the screaming I had just done. “You held me like this last night. It was just 24 hours ago, but the whole world feels different.”
He made a noise in the back of his throat that I took as an agreement. After a beat, he said, "well, maybe you won't run out on me in the morning this time."
I looked into his eyes, raising up to press a kiss against his stubbly jaw. “I’ll never run again.”
And I meant it. I could face any monster, as long as Aaron Hotchner was beside me.
#aaron hotchner#Aaron Hotchner x reader#Hotchner x reader#Hotch x reader#Aaron Hotchner Imagine#Hotchner imagine#hotch imagine#Aaron Hotchner smut#Hotchner smut#hotch smut#Aaron Hotchner fan fic#Hotch fan fic#Hotchner fan fic#Aaron Hotchner x you#Aaron Hotchner x y/n#Hotchner x you#Hotchner x y/n#hotch x you#hotch x y/n#ssa aaron hotchner
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Lover Man, Oh, Where Can You Be
1940s Carhop Roswell New Mexico AU
Malex, with a hint of Kyliz
“A drive-in?” The look Alex gave her oozed sarcasm.
“Don’t judge me.” Liz told him. “The food is worth it.”
“The food at a drive-in is worth it?” Alex’s tone did not improve.
“Alright, so the food is terrible.” Liz confessed.
Alex reminded himself that Liz was one of his oldest friends, and the battlefield medic that had saved his life during the war, so there were legitimate reasons why he’d agreed to go to dinner with her. Even if he hadn’t felt much like going anywhere since returning to Roswell. "So why are we going to a terrible drive-in?”
“Because of their carhops.” Liz told him.
“Their carhops?” Alex gave her a suspicious look, as she pulled her car onto the next street. “So we’re cruising for guys?”
“No… yes. Maybe. One guy.” Liz finally settled on.
“Liz, any guy who’d turn you down would have to be an idiot. Besides, isn’t showing up with another guy going to make him less likely to think you’re available?”
“Our riveting conversation so far has centered around my dinner order, and medical school.”
“Your carhop that sends you is a fellow doctor? Does he just carhop in his off hours?”
“His father died during the war, his schooling was interrupted. He’s finishing his schooling now.”
“Who was his father? It’s a small town.” Alex was curious.
“Jim Valenti.”
“What?” Alex hissed, but Liz was already pulling into the parking lot.
“Take a gander and tell me you regret coming.”
“I do regret coming.”
“You didn’t look.”
Alex sighed, glancing around the parking lot, and pausing when he saw that the carhops were all males, dressed in white shirts, tight shorts, and wearing cowboy boots. Okay, there was something to be said for the aesthetic, he had to admit. His eyes were drawn to one of the carhops specifically - toned body, a wild disarray of curls. He’d even added a cowboy hat, which stood out among the others there.
“Now do you regret it?”
“I hate you.” Alex told her.
“I can tell.” Liz was grinning. “That’s Kyle over there by the blue Frazer.”
Alex took a moment to glance at the other carhop. He was also fit, and definitely good looking. “He’s kinda short.”
“Don’t be a crumb, Alex.”
“His mom is the Sheriff, you know.”
“So I won’t date his mom.” Liz rolled his eyes.
Alex decided not to go into why all the reasons dating Sheriff Valenti’s son was a bad idea. Liz would have already gone over all of them herself. She wouldn’t have asked him along if she hadn’t. “So what’s your brilliant plan?”
“Coming here until he notices me?”
“You’re a literal genius, and that’s the best you could come up with?”
“...Yes.”
“Can I take your order?” The drawling tone made them turn to where the curly-haired carhop had approached their car.
“Oh, we’re-”
“Absolutely ready to order.” Alex told him, ignoring the scowl Liz threw his way. She was the one who hadn’t thought this venture through properly. She could ogle the Sheriff’s son from afar for the night.
He really needed to figure out the guy’s name, he decided when he offered a knowing grin Alex’s way. He couldn’t call him “the curly-haired carhop” forever. “Great. My lucky night.” The words were drawled out again, and Alex swore he saw a hint of interest in his eyes. “What can I get you?”
“What do you recommend?”
“Honestly? Absolutely nothing. The food’s mediocre at best.”
Alex burst out laughing at that, and Liz even brightened up enough at the jest to grin. “I don’t suppose you sell many meals with that pitch.” Alex told him.
“You might be surprised.”
“The milkshakes are good.” Liz offered.
“There is that.” He nodded in agreement.
“Milkshakes it is then. One strawberry, one chocolate.” Alex ordered.
“Coming up.” He threw in a wink, before heading back to the building.
“Unbelievable.” Liz crossed her arms. “I come here to try to get a date, and you’re the one who gets made a pass at.”
“Nobody would be so obvious.”
“Don’t be sure - that’s Michael Guerin. Isobel Evans' cousin?”
The Evans were also a prominent family in Roswell, but the name Michael Guerin didn’t ring any bells. “And?”
“You’re hopeless. Maria gave us the whole dope on it. It was a huge scandal. She broke up with her fiance, moved out of her parents’ house and in with her long lost cousin? She owns this drive-in. Ringing any bells yet?”
“Pretty sure I tuned all this out.”
“This is why you need me to drag you out of your house every so often.”
“I thought it was so you could ogle Kyle Valenti while waiting for him to notice you waiting.”
“You’re a crumb.”
“You’re a chicken. Go chat the guy up already. He’s been staring at you for ten minutes straight.”
Liz glanced behind him, and the way she bit her lip told him she’d caught Kyle staring. “My hair look alright?”
“You’re a bombshell. Go get him already.”
“You’re the best. You know that right?”
“You owe me, you know that, right?” Alex teased. Liz shot him a grin before getting out of the car and heading over to where Kyle was waiting for another car to pull in.
“Where’d your date go?” Michael asked, reappearing with milkshakes and a set of fries Alex was pretty sure he hadn’t ordered.
“Not a date. Just an old friend.” Alex told him.
“Oh, she going fishing with Valenti, huh? Well, that won’t take long.” Michael glanced behind him, and Alex let himself take in the view of him up close again as he clipped the tray to hold their food on Liz’s side of the car. “Strawberry or Chocolate?”
“Chocolate.” Alex told him, and Michael leaned in through the window to hand him the drink. He nearly dropped it when he heard his next words.
“So sugar, are you rationed?” The drawl to his voice added a hint of a promise to the words.
“Say that to the wrong guy, you’ll get your ass kicked.” Alex told him. Nobody had been close enough to hear him, especially with him leaning in through the window, but it was still dangerous to be so blatant about it.
“Well, your eyes were glued to my ass since you pulled up, so I thought I was pretty safe.” Michael challenged him.
“Not always the truth.”
“I’d say it was worth the risk, but you haven’t answered my question yet.” The grin Michael gave him was less cocky now, and more uncertain but hopeful.
“I’m single.” Alex told him.
The cocky grin came back, full force. “Don’t bet on that.”
End
This was written for two reasons, because of a picture I saw from a 1940s drive-in, and because I found out, “Hi Sugar, are you rationed?” was the slang for “Are you single?” and I had to use it. I had too much fun looking up and using unnecessary old slang for such a short fic. I have no regrets. Also, here’s the picture in question:
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Hyperspeed - Re-Review #51
So, Scott’s back! He’s obviously been making the most of that vacation time Virgil mentioned, or maybe sorting out things for Tracy Industries? Who knows, choose what you like, but he’s back in blue!
And it’s another high-speed, runaway train (of sorts). He get all the best jobs, doesn’t he?
And hello to you David Tennant (aka Tycho Reeves, billionaire inventor), thank you for joining us in this great episode of TAG looking very like yourself.
Is anyone else getting 10th Doctor vibes? All we need now are his 3D glasses and the look is complete. Really though, they even put him in blue!
So this is the Hypercar - it’s like the next addition to the monorail or the underground (evolved obviously, the underground is redundant by 2060). It’s even faster than FireFlash apparently. That’s saying something.
Now, let’s meet Gertie Bunson - the next annoying reporter to grace TAG with her presence. Really, let’s just stop writing in reporters hey? That’s an idea right there.
“An excited crowds awaits the arrival of the very first Hypercar, which should be here any minute now! Isn’t that right Tycho?”
“Less than a minute in fact. We’ll be pulling to Nightbridge Station in sixteen seconds. Hmm, that’s two seconds early.”
A whole two seconds? To most people, that would go completely unnoticed. Two minutes on the other hand, that we tend to notice. Two seconds? I’m not a clock watcher.
“Here they come now! This is where Tycho and his guest will be arriving- whoa! Wasn’t it supposed to stop?”
Well, if you hadn’t asked that, Gertie, we might never have guessed that was the intention - you know, always try and cover your mistakes.
And then - in very 10th Doctor fashion - Tycho starts rambling on (like all great scientists apparently do) about the size of bugs. Oh, but, did we mention they’re still speeding up? Oopps.
Time to make that call, I think.
John is clearly taking his turn for vacation time now as Grandma’s at the desk doing a spell of monitor duty. At least it keeps her out of the kitchen!
“If anybody can catch up to you it’s us!”
Yep! Now we get to see them try. Love high speed chases me.
“Boys, sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep with an early morning emergency, but these people need help.”
“Time to fly.”
“And I’ll try to work out what has gone wrong with this amazingly brilliant design!”
Sleepy? Wake up as quick as you like, Scott, but ideally before you pilot One, and ideally before the Hypercar crashes. Gosh, really, what has that boy been doing since ‘Long Haul’?
“Closing in on the Hypertube now. Any luck figuring out what’s gone wrong Brains? Brains?”
“Uh, I think your friend may be a tad... starstruck.”
A tad? Brains is literally frozen starting with blinky eyes.
“I’m your number one fan!”
“Well Brains, if you ever want to meet Tycho in person, we better to figure out how to stop his car.”
And then Brains does the sciency bit with a whole lot of praise thrown in. It’s like the opposite of an episode featuring Langstrom Fischler, no negative vibes here please.
“I’ll be able to rescue you after the hypercar makes a water landing.”
“No!
“Absolutely not! We’re travelling in a vacuum.”
“Hitting the atmosphere at mach eight would be like-”
“-slamming into a brick wall.”
Nice try, Scott, but it seems like you’re on delivery boy duty. I love Brains and Tycho finishing each other’s sentences.
I can’t believe this screenshot is like nowhere over the internet! Seriously Gertie being blown away by Thunderbird One’s landing due to her own stupidity is absolutely class entertainment.
“We’ve been told to evacuate the platform as Thunderbird One lands, but we’re not gonna miss a chance to bring you this thrilling live shot of- whoa! Let’s move back a bit shall we?”
It’s like Ned Cook (TOS) reincarnated. Or maybe he finally married, or had a sister we never knew about.
He looks so happy! Honestly though, I would too if I could have a friend like mini-MAX. I want one.
“If you check your sash, you’ll find a new tool of your own.”
“Thanks Brains, but what does it- Whoa!”
“Meet Mini-MAX.”
“Brains, you always surprise me.”
“Just one question. How do you expect your hypercar to catch up with Tycho’s?
“I don’t expect to catch them. I expect them to catch me.”
“I’ve begun to question the merits of this plan!”
You and me both Tycho. I know Scott lives for a bit of speed and danger but this is a new one.
“You must go faster Scott!”
“Kinda already knew that Brains.”
Tycho is a smart man. I would have strapped in as well.
“Good job! How did you make it go faster?”
“I’m not exactly sure.”
“I’ll try and figure out what you and Mini-MAX did. It may lead us to the problem.”
Now look at Mini-MAX holding on for dear life!
Good idea Brains! Let’s check in with Tycho and the others in their Hypercar, shall we?
“Bet you didn’t know you’d be getting a demonstration of our Collision Protection System, ey?”
“I feel like a balloon animal.”
Where as I saw this, and instantly my brain went;
It’s the Michelin Man!
No, seriously, it is, and he says hello;
And during these testing times, there’s something for everyone. You can join his lockdown running classes;
Or something steadier and calmer, like his yoga classes;
Feel the zen!
Or there’s even dancing classes!
P.S. Wait until we get to the end of the review, I swear this is where Brains gets his moves from. You’ll see, trust me. (And if you’re new to the Re-Review Series, my brains wonders a lot so... and if you’re not new to it, you should have expected to see this).
Right, back to impending doom;
“Tycho, so nice to finally meet you! Virtually at least.”
“Oh, impressive invention!”
It’s like Brains gets to achieve his dream meeting! That little mechanical hand is never getting washed.
Mini-MAX is great, really, I want one, but I’m with Scott here;
“Uh, guys, sorry to interrupt but uh, imminent doom?”
I called that!
“Right.”
“RAD.”
“Tycho’s design appears to be perfect. So the problem must have been a manufacturing error when the car was built.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing. If the throttle is working, one of the plasma plugs must have machined improperly.
“Oh no.”
“Ah, a couple of bad plasma plugs should be pretty easy to fix.”
You obviously weren’t listening to Brains crucial “oh no” there Scott.
“Fixing them is the easy part, but reaching them is next to impossible.”
“The plasma plug assembly can only be accessed from outside the car. Specifically, underneath it.”
“Got ya.”
I love Mini-MAX clipping Scott to the train. I would trust Mini-MAX over my own self any day.
“Looks like a fun place to hang out.”
What is it with Scott and ‘hanging’ out? This does not look like my idea of fun, thank you very much. I would like to keep myself upright, and maybe in one of those comfy seats feeling like a balloon animal. That sounds appealing whilst the world falls apart... if you need me, I’ll be waiting out with the collision protection system and the Michelin Man.
Joke, I’ll be here working and writing the Re-Reviews! I would now like a balloon animal though...
“Dropping even a single bolt would be catastrophic!”
“I don’t think that’s going to be hard to remember Brains!”
At least we’ve graduated from ‘Runaway’ where Brains insisted Scott take notes. That would be a little impossible here, after all. The notepad would be blown away!
Borrowed just a few of Virgil’s power tools there, did you Scott? Best return them all in once piece or he might ruin your portrait too. I know he got Tycho’s from the control station, but I couldn’t resist the chance to reference ‘Inferno’ here. Whist we’re on the note of references, here’s another ’Brink of Death’ (TOS) situation.
I love our contest winners;
“That was Grandpa. He loves to go fast.”
“I do!”
“And you don’t?”
“Honestly, we’re just lucky I have thrown up yet.”
I’m with Tycho this time. Oh seems appropriate. I love that we’re breaking stereotypes here (something TAG have done pretty well at in general). You don’t have to be young to love a bit of speed.
“I probably want to replace these one at a time then huh?”
“Yes, and very carefully.”
Oh, uh, what were you saying about remembering? First the drill nearly went down and then- wait, down goes the plasma plug!
“Nice catch!”
Mini-MAX to the rescue.
“One more twist and we’ll finally be able to slow- down!”
Or not. You just had to say it.
I think Brains should have got on the phone to EOS - she knows all about hacking high-speed methods of transportation.
“Why would the speed increase at random like that! If the controls aren’t making the car go faster, then the only way it could be accelerating is... oh no! Tycho, one of your formulas has a small error.”
“Impossible! My calculations were perfect.”
“I thought so too.”
“No! That should be metres per second squared! Oh how could I be so foolish!”
“Even genius’ make mistakes.”
There goes that Scott Tracy trait of forgiveness and acceptance again. I do love it when they show moments like this. Of all the brothers, Scott is the best at staying calm and talking to people, reassuring them that things aren’t always black and white. These scenes were always building towards something, and we’re going to see the real test in the next episode. To do a job like this you have to be selfless, but Scott is almost self-sacrificing (well, the whole family is in a sense), but remember with Kat, for example, Scott had no reason to stay, but he did. It’s just him, and this is an excellent follow through.
“Yes, but my mistake is going to destroy us all! There’s no way for us to stop.”
“Let’s just take a breath and slow down so we can think this through.”
“Slow down...”
“Yeah, that’s the idea.”
“No, slow down! We don’t have to stop the car we just need to be in a slower vehicle that won’t vaporize when it’s hits the atmosphere! Oh, you’re a genius! Right the vehicle will need to be fast enough to reach us with enough thrust to slow down in time.”
“Brains, we need Thunderbird Four inside the Hypertube ASAP. And put it in there backwards.”
The man with a plan is on a roll again!
Cut back to Gertie Bunson reporting again, and a nice little reconstruction on Thunderbird Four’s traditional launch sequence, because Thunderbird Four has arrived! A submersible out of water.
And now we go from Scott Photo Central to squid screen time!
“Um, are we sure this is a good idea?”
Maybe not Gordon, but let’s launch before anyone answers you.
“Bad idea!”
And then you can answer yourself! Great times.
“You’re losing speed, Gordon!”
“Don’t worry, Brains. If I can see it, I can catch it.”
You know, I am jealous of how good an aim every member of this family has. I am rubbish at catch.
“Welcome aboard.”
Gordon steadying Scott is like brilliant. We need more moments of these two for sure.
“It’s working. We’re slowing down.”
“But will it be enough?”
And there go the hypercars... exploding.
“Virgil, they’re loading into Thunderbird Four, get ready to show them a way out.”
“FAB.”
And because you’ve got to get a daily dose of Virgil in there;
“Let’s hope you guys make a slower, gentler exit.”
“Hey, I’m nothing if not gentle! Brace for impact!”
We’ll ignore the oxymoron there.
“We made it! We didn’t burn up!”
Yeah, just give away to the poor civilians that you weren’t expecting to survive, Gordon. That’s really reassuring.
“Did you guys have a plan for how to land this thing?”
It’s Gordon and Virgil, Scott. There’s always a plan. Even if it’s a little improvised or thrown together at the last minute.
“Um, kinda.”
Just another mid-air catch of Thunderbird Four, nothing special to see here, folks.
Who am I kidding? Bring in the applause! We’ve seen this move in ‘Extraction’ and ‘Clean Sweep’ and Virgil never gets it wrong. Takes talent.
“Everyone ok?”
“Can we do that again!”
“No thanks.”
Yeah, I’m with Tycho again. Just watching it made my head spin.
“Big thanks to International Rescue for saving our lives.”
“And for the thrill of a lifetime.”
Nice to get a thank you in there for once.
More high fives! Is there a gif set of the TAG high fives yet? Keep them coming I like them. Nice happy moments, high fives. Brains has basically just got his dream come true!
Of this I have no wordable description, and it looks like Grandma doesn’t either.
Do you see?
Look at Mini-MAX! He’s like a robot version of a dog. I really want one, and I’m sad we never see him again! Bye Mini-MAX!
“I did - finally - get you to London.”
“Thanks, but um... how are we getting back to Tokyo?”
“Oh... yes, uh... Scott?”
Yeah, just turn to our ideas man. He’ll always come up with something. It’s a little like TOS ‘Cry Wolf’ here, where Scott lets Tony and Bob ride in Thunderbird One. He’s a crowd pleaser, this one.
“Want to go for a ride?”
“Wow!”
“Oh um, that would be great I guess.”
“Now, tell me about those engines.”
That smile of Tycho’s as they walk to Thunderbird One - goodness I love how much is contained in that single expression.
Oh, but don’t forget Gertie! Desperately trying to get her scoop - very Ned Cook. Maybe she’s his daughter? I don’t think I entertained that possibility earlier...
“Scott Tracy, any chance we can get a quick interview?”
*Engines start... deliberately*
“You know what? Nevermind. Another time. Maybe.”
What gave it away that he didn’t want to talk to you?
This ending scene is one of my favourite, little sweet moments. After an epic rescue like that, this was needed.
Well, let’s look to Monday for the final episode of Series 2! I can’t believe we’ve already made it this far. We can tell something is coming though - the end credit music had a slight variant to it. The musical score in this series really was on point.
#Thunderbirds are go#Hyperspeed#darkestwolfx#Re-Review series#David Tennant#10th Doctor#Doctor Who#BBC#ITV#CITV#Scott Tracy#Mini-MAX#Brains#Tycho Reeves#Geek Central#Gordon Tracy#Hyper car#Virgil Tracy#Grandma Tracy#Gertie Bunson#Speed#Support your fanfiction authors#Rasmus Hardiker#David Menkin#Kayvan Novak#Sandra Dickenson#TAG#TOS#Inferno#Runaway
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HARRY POTTER & THE GOBLET OF FIRE ( movie )
S E N T E N C E S T A R T E R S
✶ long post ahead !
✶ change pronouns / punctuation as needed .
✶ some quotes were altered for better context .
✶ some quotes may have dark undertones .
✶ SS. COS. POA. OOTP. HBP. follow for the rest of the series to come !
ϟ ❝ It will be done exactly as I said! ❞
ϟ ❝ I will not disappoint you. ❞
ϟ ❝ Step aside, so I can give our guest a proper greeting. ❞
ϟ ❝ When did you get here? ❞
ϟ ❝ Wake up! Wake up! ❞
ϟ ❝ Honestly! Get dressed! And don't go back to sleep. ❞
ϟ ❝ Where are we actually going? ❞
ϟ ❝ We don't want to be late. ❞
ϟ ❝ Get yourself into a good position. ❞
ϟ ❝ Why are they all standing around that manky, old boot? ❞
ϟ ❝ I'll bet that cleared your sinuses, eh? ❞
ϟ ❝ Get out of the kitchen! ❞
ϟ ❝ I love magic. ❞
ϟ ❝ Do enjoy yourself, won't you? While you can. ❞
ϟ ❝ He's more than an athlete! He's an artist. ❞
ϟ ❝ I think you're in love. ❞
ϟ ❝ Shut up. ❞
ϟ ❝ When we're apart, my heart beats only for you. ❞
ϟ ❝ Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on. ❞
ϟ ❝ We've gotta get out of here. Now! ❞
ϟ ❝ I've been looking for you for ages! ❞
ϟ ❝ You've been discovered at the scene of the crime! ❞
ϟ ❝ It's alright, I'll get it. Don't worry. ❞
ϟ ❝ Anything sweet for you, dear? ❞
ϟ ❝ This is horrible. ❞
ϟ ❝ It's hurting again, isn't it? ❞
ϟ ❝ Well, there's something you don't see every day. ❞
ϟ ❝ You idiot! ❞
ϟ ❝ My dear old friend, thanks for coming. ❞
ϟ ❝ You don't know what you're doing! ❞
ϟ ❝ End of the story, goodbye, the end. ❞
ϟ ❝ You need to know what you're up against. You need to be prepared. ❞
ϟ ❝ What are you laughing at? ❞
ϟ ❝ How do we sort out the liars? ❞
ϟ ❝ Stop it! Can't you see it's bothering him?! ❞
ϟ ❝ I want to show you something. ❞
ϟ ❝ We're gonna be late! ❞
ϟ ❝ That's why it's so brilliant! Because it's so pathetically dimwitted. ❞
ϟ ❝ Bottoms up! ❞
ϟ ❝ You want a piece of me?! ❞
ϟ ❝ Fight! Fight! Fight! ❞
ϟ ❝ Everything is a conspiracy theory! ❞
ϟ ❝ You seem to have given this a fair bit of thought. ❞
ϟ ❝ Put an end to it. ❞
ϟ ❝ You're being stupid. ❞
ϟ ❝ I don't want eternal glory. I just want to be — ❞
ϟ ❝ I don't know what happened tonight and I don't know why. ❞
ϟ ❝ Does courage lie beneath those curls? ❞
ϟ ❝ Who's feeling up to sharing? ❞
ϟ ❝ Everyone loves a rebel. ❞
ϟ ❝ Speaking of your parents, were they still alive, how do you think they'd feel? Proud? Or concerned, that your attitude shows at best — a pathological need for attention, or at worst — a psychotic death wish? ❞
ϟ ❝ Hey! My eyes aren't "glistening with the ghost of my past"!❞
ϟ ❝ We need to talk. Face to face. ❞
ϟ ❝ I'm not ready for this. ❞
ϟ ❝ You don't have a choice. ❞
ϟ ❝ Someone's coming! ❞
ϟ ❝ Keep your friend close. ❞
ϟ ❝ Who are you talking to? ❞
ϟ ❝ Maybe you're imagining things. Wouldn't be the first time. ❞
ϟ ❝ Please don’t make me say it again. ❞
ϟ ❝ I’m not an owl! ❞
ϟ ❝ Pay attention! This is important. ❞
ϟ ❝ What’s with the flower? ❞
ϟ ❝ You’ve combed your hair! ❞
ϟ ❝ I thought perhaps you had forgotten me... ❞
ϟ ❝ What is it you wanted to show me? ❞
ϟ ❝ It’s not like I try to blow things up. ❞
ϟ ❝ You’re a right foul git, you know that? ❞
ϟ ❝ I don’t give a DAMN what your father thinks! ❞
ϟ ❝ Technically, it’s a ferret. ❞
ϟ ❝ My father will hear about this! ❞
ϟ ❝ It doesn’t end here. ❞
ϟ ❝ You wouldn’t believe it if I told you. ❞
ϟ ❝ What are your strengths? ❞
ϟ ❝ Sorry, I’ll just go. ❞
ϟ ❝ What the bloody hell was that? ❞
ϟ ❝ This is going to be uncomfortable enough with you listening in. ❞
ϟ ❝ Oh, you've caught on? Took you long enough. ❞
ϟ ❝ Everyone was saying it behind your back. ❞
ϟ ❝ Brilliant. That makes me feel loads better. ❞
ϟ ❝ Who could possibly figure that out? ❞
ϟ ❝ That's completely mental. ❞
ϟ ❝ I suppose I was a bit distraught. ❞
ϟ ❝ I can't believe it! She's done it again! ❞
ϟ ❝ I'm not wearing that. It's ghastly. ❞
ϟ ❝ I expect you to put your best foot forward. ❞
ϟ ❝ Try saying that five times fast, huh? ❞
ϟ ❝ Will you join me, please? ❞
ϟ ❝ You're never going to let me forget this, are you? ❞
ϟ ❝ Why do girls always have to travel in packs? And how are you supposed to get one of them alone to ask them? ❞
ϟ ❝ If you can't get a date, who can? ❞
ϟ ❝ Now I'm really depressed. ❞
ϟ ❝ I won't be going alone, because believe it or not, someone's asked me! ... And I said yes! ❞
ϟ ❝ Look, we've just gotta grit our teeth and do it. ❞
ϟ ❝ I really am sorry. ❞
ϟ ❝ What happened to you? ❞
ϟ ❝ I couldn't help it. It just sort of slipped out. ❞
ϟ ❝ I'm not cut out for this. ❞
ϟ ❝ Murder me. ❞
ϟ ❝ You are very late. ❞
ϟ ❝ I don't think it was the books that had him going to the library. ❞
ϟ ❝ You're fraternizing with the enemy. ❞
ϟ ❝ I think he's got a bit more than friendship on his mind. ❞
ϟ ❝ Are you going to ask me to dance or not? ❞
ϟ ❝ He's using you! ❞
ϟ ❝ I can take care of myself! ❞
ϟ ❝ Next time, pluck up the courage to ask me before somebody else does! And not as a last resort! ❞
ϟ ❝ That's completely off the point. ❞
ϟ ❝ You spoiled everything! ❞
ϟ ❝ I'm scared for you. ❞
ϟ ❝ I'm sure you would have done the same for me. ❞
ϟ ❝ I must be out of my mind. ❞
ϟ ❝ I'm definitely out of my mind. ❞
ϟ ❝ No offense, but I really don't care about plants. ❞
ϟ ❝ I just wanted to help. ❞
ϟ ❝ You seem a little tense. ❞
ϟ ❝ Are you alright? You must be freezing! ❞
ϟ ❝ Personally, I think you behaved admirably. ❞
ϟ ❝ Even when you go wrong, it turns out right. ❞
ϟ ❝ To lose one's family... We're never whole again, are we? ❞
ϟ ❝ Life goes on. ❞
ϟ ❝ We're still a bunch of misfits. ❞
ϟ ❝ What did you say to me?! ❞
ϟ ❝ I believe this conversation is no longer private. ❞
ϟ ❝ You are no son of mine. ❞
ϟ ❝ Curiosity is not a sin. ❞
ϟ ❝ Every time I get close to an answer, it slips away. ❞
ϟ ❝ I think it's unwise of you to linger over these dreams. ❞
ϟ ❝ Don't lie to me. ❞
ϟ ❝ Believe me, I'm going to find out why. ❞
ϟ ❝ You could just lose yourself along the way. ❞
ϟ ❝ Get down! Get down! ❞
ϟ ❝ Get off me! ❞
ϟ ❝ I've been here before. ❞
ϟ ❝ Here you stand before me, as if it were only yesterday. ❞
ϟ ❝ I'd almost forgotten you were here. ❞
ϟ ❝ I can touch you now. ❞
ϟ ❝ I'm going to destroy you. ❞
ϟ ❝ Don't you turn your back on me! ❞
ϟ ❝ I want to see the light leave your eyes! ❞
ϟ ❝ Have it your way. ❞
ϟ ❝ Sweetheart, you're ready. Let go. ❞
ϟ ❝ This is not where you want to be right now. ❞
ϟ ❝ It's alright, I've got you. ❞
ϟ ❝ It was like I'd fallen into one of my dreams... one of my nightmares. ❞
ϟ ❝ It was you from the beginning. ❞
ϟ ❝ Now the deed is done. ❞
ϟ ❝ I'll show you mine if you show me yours. ❞
ϟ ❝ I'll be welcomed back like a hero. ❞
ϟ ❝ Personally, I've never had much time for heroes. ❞
ϟ ❝ Today, we acknowledge a really terrible loss. ❞
ϟ ❝ I think you have a right to know exactly how he died. ❞
ϟ ❝ Our hearts beat as one. ❞
ϟ ❝ I put you in terrible danger. ❞
ϟ ❝ Soon, we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy. ❞
ϟ ❝ Remember this: you have friends here. You are not alone. ❞
ϟ ❝ Everything's going to change now, isn't it? ❞
ϟ ❝ Promise you'll write this summer. ❞
#harry potter rp meme#rp memes#inbox memes#ask memes#roleplay asks#roleplay memes#indie hp rp#✉ series : harry potter .
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Story prompt: Video game protagonist develops free will, discovers cheat codes.
People always say that cheating takes all of the fun out of games. ‘If you don’t work for it the ending won’t feel earned!’ they scream from atop their high horses.
Well, she had worked for the ending.
She had spent years of her life working towards it, building up her stats, obtaining the best items, making friends with the best party members. She had narrowly escaped her and her friends’ deaths multiple times. She had finally bested the bad guy! The good times were in sight, in a few years the world would be a utopia!
ESC.
Her vision flickered blinding white for a moment and she brought her hands to her eyes. She gave a quiet whine, a little ‘Not again!’, before opening them again.
She was floating, weightless in a void. In front of her were words in a language she couldn’t comprehend, brilliant white against the nothingness, and an arrow pointing between what seemed to be two options.
She barely even paid it any attention. Why would she? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen any of this before. It had been a surprise the first time, and even the second, but now? Ah, it’s just a run of the mill Darkness. A monthly occurrence, really. It would be over in a few minutes anyway.
At first, she didn’t think much of how long she was there. When you’re waiting for something it feels like it takes longer, after all!
Seconds... fade into minutes... fade into hours... fade into days...
What is taking so fucking long?
She found herself staring at the back of the words, struggling to understand the weird text. What language was that in? It certainly wasn’t anything like she’d seen before, the words were so... defined. What kind of weirdos would have thin letters? Didn’t they know blocks were the way to go?
Maybe it was because she was looking at it from behind. Those letters looked so... ghastly, there was no way that they really looked like that.
She started to drift over and she frowned as she pressed a hand to the nearest... whatever that was. She had seen it happen before, the weird way it had shaken before bringing her back to the normal world, maybe if she just...
Fuck that’s heavy! She pushed against it with all her might but it wouldn’t budge.
Eventually, she slumped against the abomination, resting her head against it and closing her eyes (not that closing her eyes changed anything). She opened them again after she had caught her breath and looked around for something, anything, to do.
Her eyes found their way to the arrow. She floated over to it and poked it, expecting it to be just like the text, only to scream as it attached itself to her pointer finger. The sudden weight pulled her down a few feet before she regained enough thought to stop herself.
Her gaze found itself to the immovable object and she hurled the arrow -- and herself along at it -- in its direction. She wasn’t expecting much, maybe a collision to snap herself awake (because this must have been some sort of weird nightmare), so it was a shock when she saw the ‘words’ budge.
She shot out of bed, hitting the cold stone floors beside it. Guess she was right about the nightmare part. She winced and closed her eyes to let them adjust to the new light.
Her right arm throbbed where she had thrown it out to catch herself but it was still useful enough to push her back to a sitting position. She cringed at the hard floors, wondering just where she had managed to fall asleep this time, and she sleepily ran her hands over the cracks in the stone.
Wait, cracked stone?
Her eyes shot open despite the slight pain.
God no.
She was back in a prison cell. The guard she had befriended years ago was scowling at her from the other side, knocking his baton against it like he’d done every day. Had he regressed? Taken a plea deal to get out of charges? Wow, he’d even styled his hair back to what it had been when he’d been working there originally.
“Wake up, 1111.”
“I have a name, yknow!” She hissed. “It’s --.” The world paused around her. The person in the cell opposite hers stopped changing midstep, the guard caught mid-blink, the fly next to her nose hanging.
But even weirder were the white words in front of her face. She wasn’t in the void. Those weren’t supposed to be there.
She opted to ignore the words for now, because she honestly didn’t know what to do, and reached up her hand to catch the fly since she’d actually be able to.
It was here that she noticed her left hand had something attached to it. She stared at the milky white boxes with their weird abominations and narrowed her eyes. Maybe the arrow hadn’t faded from her hand like she’d thought, it had just gotten smaller?
She reached out and tapped a few buttons.
“-- DHSHT0! My name is DHSHT0.”
Wait, what? The world was working again? And why had she said that was her name? Her name is DHSHT0!
Huh?
She couldn’t seem to remember her name anymore, just that weird amalgamation of sounds.
“I don’t care,” her friend sneered. “Just get moving, alright?”
He was gone. She had a strange sense of deja vu.
She looked back at her hands and raised her eyebrows when she saw that the boxes were still hovering there, waiting for use.
Deciding to just accept that as a part of life. Best for her sanity.
She slowly walked over to get a change of clothes and her eyes widened as she saw a familiar set of tally marks on the wall. Sure, this was pretty standard, but...
She counted them out and, with a sudden temptation, reached a hand out to scratch a new line.
129 days and counting, she thought.
She knew that thought. She knew those tallies. And she definitely knew what was going on now.
No.
No no no no no no!
She ran back to the front of the cell, pressing herself flush against the bars to get a good look at her friend. He hadn’t just cut his hair back, no, it was back to being that way. From the perfectly cropped hair to the bleached blond roots.
She was back at the beginning of this whole mess.
Oh, fuck no.
She’d rather be back in the void, thank you very much! She looked down at the pad in her hand and began typing furiously. She’d figured out where the enter key had been when she’d typed out her name, so now she inputted random combinations then pressed enter. She wasn’t sure what would work, or what could happen, but she didn’t care.
She blinked and suddenly she was in red armor. Fear climbed up her throat. Did this mean she worked for Him now? She typed more furiously.
A different friend of hers popped into existence in the cell for half a second before disappearing. Oops. Wish she’d actually paid attention to what she was typing.
She leaned herself against the wall and began typing again, more slowly to actually note what was going on.
The wall disappeared from behind her and she fell through, landing in a meadow. She was walking with the guard, whose mostly brown hair was now past his shoulders. She dropped her hand in surprise.
He looked affronted at something she said. “Oh, DHSHT0, come on! You can’t say that! That’s blasphemy.”
She smirked, reaching up to pinch his cheek. “Really? Okay.” She raised her arms to the heavens. “If that’s blasphemy, then He will strike me dead right now.”
There was a pause and she barely managed to think ‘wait, what were we even talking about? What’s going on? Haven’t I already done this before?’ before she turned to him, her cheeky grin stretching even wider.
“Well? I’m waiting.”
She brought her left hand up and started messing with the keypad again. This was all so weird. She’d done all this before, she recognized what was going on, but everything was off about it. They hadn’t done this in a field, she hadn’t been wearing these clothes, and she certainly hadn’t ever had real-life pauses happen before.
Or, as she was beginning to suspect, not real-life at all.
She kept her hand up to pause time and started walking towards town. She needed to get to a library, she needed to understand what the hell had happened to her hand.
But she couldn’t get further than a few steps ahead of herself before she hit some sort of invisible wall. She leaned all her weight against it but, again, it wasn’t enough to gain any ground.
She slid to the floor and rested her head in her hands.
Suddenly, a friend popped in front of her. She glanced down at the keypad, frowning. Had she accidentally tapped something out with her head?
“Hey, DHSHT0, wanna talk?” They chirped in that same pleasant voice they always had but now their smile felt weird. It was too wide, too teeth-y, and definitely didn’t reach his eyes.
“Not really, Johnny.”
“So, you thought you’d be clever and hack the game, huh?” He said, squatting in front of her and steepling his hands under his chin.
‘Hack’ the ‘game’?
“Bet DHSHT0 isn’t even your real name. Bet your real name is something like...” He tilted his head as if listening to a distant song. “Danny?”
She gasped, though she wasn’t sure why. That sounded right, though, so maybe that was her original name.
“I’m right aren’t I?”
She started to bring her hand up to type, to get out of there because something was seriously wrong with her friend and she didn’t like it one bit, but Johnny pushed it back down.
“Now, now, don’t leave! The fun is just getting started! And you want to have fun, don’t you?”
She knew by his tone that whatever ‘fun’ he had planned, she’d want no part of. She pulled her knees to her chest to get as far away from him as possible.
He grabbed her left hand again, pulling it towards him and drumming his fingers across the keypad.
She fell out of bed again, screaming. Just a bad dream, the worst dream ever. She pressed her hand to the floor, moving to get up, and her eyes widened as they felt stone.
She opened her eyes and looked around the cell. Her guard was there again, yelling, “Wake up, 1111, 1112!”
She blinked at the additional number and turned her head to see him. He looked so innocent, bobbing up and down on the bed, but there was nothing innocent about what was going on.
He smiled. “Hiya, cellmate.”
“Can’t you just call me my name?”
“And what was that again?” He cooed.
She had learned a few times ago that, for things to start, you needed the weird line thing at the beginning, so now she pressed it and inputted a random string of letters.
The last thing she saw before she moved was his annoyed expression.
She stood at the base of the mountain. She knew Johnny wasn’t supposed to be a character here yet, so she breathed a sigh of relief, only to turn and see him standing among the two who were actually part of it.
“You know, you could just enjoy the game for what it is,” he said.
She brought her hand up and he lunged for her. She dodged his swipe by pure luck and started running up the mountain because she knew for a fact that she was able to. She was having trouble doing precision typing on the run but she hardly cared as she reached a for it and...
WWWWWWWWWWWWWW--
Huh? Why was her keyboard typing out that one letter so much?
“Having a little trouble typing and running?” Came his voice and she screamed as she ran into him. She hit the ground and winced as pebbles scraped her hands and legs. She dusted at the debris on her hands.
“You should be behind me!”
“And you should be back in your cell, playing this game as it was intended. Life’s full of disappointments.”
He reached for her hand but she was already gone.
She was standing with all her friends, beaming widely as she lifted the crown onto her head. Wait a minute, a crown? When did this happen? Wasn’t she supposed to get a medal for her service, and wasn’t someone supposed to put it on her?
She turned around and stared at troops upon troops of red-clad soldiers.
No.
Johnny clapped from his spot beside her. There was a loud bing from beside her head, a box with a crown and some more of that weird language, and then it was gone.
She was in a white room with Johnny. She looked down at her hand to plot yet another escape, only to find her keypad was gone.
“Congratulations, Danny. You’ve gotten the secret ending,” he said with unenthusiastic jazz hands. “You’ve gotten the secret, now play the game as it is intended or hit ESC and log out for good.”
There was a long pause. Her keypad was gone. Even then, she didn’t know what ESC was in that language. She didn’t want to risk getting it wrong.
“Well?” He prompted.
She stared at her hand, waiting for it to pop up.
“Well?” He prompted.
“I want my old life back! I want the good ending with everyone happy and on the right side and--!”
“Well?” He prompted.
#welllllll this was a concept#ive always thought games that call you out for cheating are a lot of fun#thank you for the submission!! it was a lot of fun and i hope you like it even if it wasn't exactly what you were hoping for#submitted prompt#writing#short story
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Falling | Carter Hart
Summary: While Carter Hart tries to teach your 2nd grade class how to skate, you try not to fall... flat on your face, or, for him.
Words: 2292 of 7433
Note: The request was for 1 imagine but I accidentally came up with a 3 part series... This is part 2. Read part 1 here.
The music is loud, way too loud, to even hear a single word of what your roommate Bella is saying. To be fair, it’s probably not very interesting anyway, cause she’s on one of her drunk rambles about her on again off again boyfriend, that didn’t text her back yesterday.
You hadn’t really wanted to go out tonight. Work had been a disaster today, with Fern throwing up and Rachel trying to drink finger paint.
At 7 years old, you’d figured they’d be over that, but you’d clearly been wrong.
But Bella had insisted, and eventually, you’d given in. Mostly because she started talking about you needing to get laid to get over Carter, which was ridiculous, cause you weren’t even into Carter.
Sure, you’d started watching Flyers games, but that was just cause you were getting into hockey. Not the #79 goalie that you definitely did not watch all postgame interviews of, that’s for sure.
“Are you even listening to me?” Bella yells then, and you blink a few times.
“Huh?”
“I said, if James shows up, I’m not talking to him! I’m not even gonna give him the light of day.”
You nod, but you’re not expecting that attitude to last very long. Bella is a beautiful girl, and she has many guys that would love to take her out, but she always goes back to James, who’s a no-good lowlife that is wasting her precious time. You’ve told her, time and time again, to just go for one of the guys that line up for her attention, but she always ends up back in the same place.
You wish you got that kinda attention from guys, but then again, you don’t look like Bella. She’s slim, with legs going on for days, long blonde hair and to top it of, she’s ridiculously charming.
You’re, well, you. A short, stubby girl who gets on with kids better than she does with guys her own age. Normally, you’re not really bothered about your appearance, but you can’t help but wonder, if maybe you looked a little more like Bella, a guy like Carter would look at you differently.
“Where is your mind, Y/N?” Bella says at that moment, frowning at you. “You’re literally not reacting to anything I say.”
You sigh. “Sorry, Bella. What were you saying?”
Bella rolls her eyes, then sits up straighter and points to the corner. “I said, a couple cute guys just walked in, and I wanna know which one you’re shotgunning so I can go for one of the others.”
Highly doubting you’re gonna be interested in any of them, you turn around in the direction she’d been pointing, and as soon as your eyes catch the group of guys that just came in, you feel the blood drain from your face.
You’ve only been watching hockey for a week, but you’d gotten to know the Flyers pretty well, and you know two of those guys. That’s Nolan Patrick and Travis Konecny, walking into your bar. Would that mean…?
You search the rest of the bar, but Carter is nowhere to be seen. You can’t help but be disappointed, but then again, that would’ve been too good to be true.
“I’m not interested, you go for whoever,” you tell Bella, slamming back your vodka soda. “I might go home in a bit.”
Suddenly, you notice Bella’s eyes widen, and then a wicked smile crosses her face. “No, you’re not,” she says, and just when you’re about to ask her what the hell she’s talking about, she speaks again. “Hello, cute boy.”
“Uhm, hey?” The voice sounds unsure and is hard to hear over the music, but you recognize it any way, and turn around so fast you nearly topple off your barstool.
“Carter?”
Catching your eyes, some of the tension leaves his shoulders, and he smiles. “Hi, Y/N.”
“Oh, hi.” You narrow your eyes. “You’re not legally allowed to be here.”
“God, Y/N,” Bella brings out in horror, but Carter just laughs.
“Are you supposed to be here?”
“I’m 21.”
“I’m with them.” Carter motions to Nolan and Travis and some of the other guys, and you figure that would get him into any bar he’d like to get into. Plus, well, he’s Carter Hart. He can probably do whatever he wants anyway. He casually leans up against the bar, points at your empty glass. “What were you drinking?”
You can’t help but laugh. “You’re not gonna be able to buy me one. Vodka soda.”
Now, his eyes are glistening with mischief. “Wanna bet?”
A little apprehensively, you nod. “On what?”
Carter seems to think about it, but then Bella pipes up. “If he wins, you can’t go home until I say you can go home!”
That will probably be at 6 in the morning, so you aren’t particularly keen on that bet, but Carter has already agreed and is waving over the bartender.
“Hey, man,” he says lightly, and you can almost see the moment recognition hits the bartender.
“Oh, dude, big fan!” he brings out, and that’s the moment you lose the bet. “What can I get you? On the house, dude, thanks for keeping the Flyers in the race.”
“Thank you, that’s so nice of you,” Carter smiles. “Can I have a vodka soda and a lemon tonic?” Of course, the bartender gets his drinks without hesitation, and a smug smile occupies Carter’s face when he pushes the vodka soda towards you. “Told you so.”
“Nobody likes a bad winner,” you grumble, taking a sip of your drink, and Bella claps her hands in excitement.
“That means you’ve got to stay!” She hops off her barstool. “You remember that bet, lady. I’m gonna go talk to your friend’s friends over there.” She confidently walks over to Travis and Nolan, and you shoot Carter a look.
“Does she have a shot, or should I be a good friend and go save her?” you ask him, and he laughs.
“I’d say she has as good a shot with them as anyone. And besides, they’re good guys. She’ll have a fun night either way.” He sends you a lopsided smile, and you feel your heart speed up.
Stupid heart.
“Besides, if she’s there, you’re kinda forced to hang out with me, and I like that.”
As if you need to be forced into that.
“Now, tell me,” he continues. “If you’re 21, how are you a teacher?”
“I’m not. I’m an intern at the school, and I was just accompanying the class to their field trip because their teacher was ill.”
“So you’re not the brilliant mind that made them write me those cute letters, huh?” He’s smiling at the memory, and you notice once again how nice his smile is; it lights up his face and washes a wave of calm through your body.
“Nope, but I helped the kids write them. They were cute, no?”
Carter seems to ponder for a second, before speaking again. “Moving to a new city, away from your family and friends, is always hard, and combining that with the pressure of wanting to perform well and give my team a chance to win, it was a hard first few weeks here in Philly. Those letters honestly came at the best time. I needed a pick me up, and they made me so happy.” There’s something vulnerable in the way he speaks, and you want to reach out and hug him. You haven’t quite consumed enough alcohol to be that bold, but you’ve definitely consumed enough to do something you wouldn’t normally do, so you reach out and quickly squeeze his hand.
“That sounds like it sucks,” you tell him truthfully, and he smiles at you.
“Not really. It’s been a dream come true. Just, all roses have thorns, you know? Sometimes you need to be reminded of the good parts of something.”
The fact that he hasn’t yanked his hand away from you gives you a boost of confidence and conversation flows easily after that, and somehow, your glass always seems to remain full. You hadn’t been planning to get drunk, but at the end of the night you nearly fall over when you get off your barstool, falling into Carter’s strong chest.
“You keep falling for me, huh?” Carter grins, locking his hands around your elbows to keep you steady. Of course, he hasn’t been drinking, and he’s infuriatingly sober, and infuriatingly handsome in the dim light of the bar.
“It’s not my fault I’m clumsy,” you tell him, and you don’t miss the irony of his statement. If only he knew how many times you’ve thought about kissing him, in the two hours that you’ve been talking, he wouldn’t joke about that. “I’m gonna find Bella, I don’t care about her stupid bet, I need to go home.”
If it was possible, you’d stay there all night, talking to Carter, but you’re drunk and tired and you have a feeling if you stay any longer, you’re just going to embarrass yourself more than you already have, and you’re gonna have to face him at school in a few days.
Carter seems to think about something for a while, but his hands don’t let go of your arms, so you just stand there and wait for him to speak.
“Can I bring you home?” he says finally.
Now, despite your worries, the prospect of getting a little more time with him has you smiling so big your cheeks hurt. “I’d love that,” you say. “Let me find Bella to tell her I’m leaving.”
After finding your roommate and telling her that yes, Carter was bringing you home, but no, it wasn’t like that, you leave the bar behind. Carter’s hand is warm on the small of your back and you’re not sure if he’s touching you because he wants to or because he’s worried you’ll fall on your face, but either way you’re not complaining and you mourn the loss of contact when he helps you into his car.
You watch his side profile as he drives, leaning your head back against the headrest.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with driving my drunk ass home,” you mumble softly.
He laughs. “Don’t worry about it. You’re much better company than the boys. I’m kinda the default designated driver with them, cause I can’t drink anyway.”
You notice the compliment, feel yourself blushing, but try to ignore it. “That must be annoying.”
Carter shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m assuming they’ll return the favor when I’m 21.” Then, he seems to think about something. “Except Nolan. He’s a horrible driver, I’d much rather get an Uber.”
You laugh at that. “Tell me more about the team.”
And so, he does. He talks, and it’s comfortable and just nice, and way too soon he’s parking in front of your apartment and you’re taking your house keys out of your jacket.
You would ask him to come in, but you’re pretty sure that’s against some kind of contract you signed when you accepted the internship.
“Let me walk you to the door,” Carter offers, and somehow he manages to get out of the car and around to open your car door before you’ve even managed to reach for the handle.
You giggle, as you take his hand and let him help you out of the car. “Afraid I’ll fall again?”
“Nope,” he says, and he sounds honest and not ashamed at all, as he continues: “Just wanna spend as much time with you as possible.”
Your face surely is on fire, and you can’t help but stop him before you reach your front door. “Carter, I…” When you started speaking, you were fully intend on telling him that you have to remain professional, with him scheduled to go back to school to teach the kids a PE class, but now he’s staring at you intently with those big blue eyes and you don’t even remember how to talk, let alone what you were going to say.
“Yes, Y/N?” he mimics your tone of voice, and his lips curl into a lopsided smile. He almost looks like he knows what you were going to say, and knows also that just his eyes staring into yours was enough to completely derail your trail of thought, and it’s for some reason the most amusing thing to him that you can’t think straight when he’s near.
And, maybe it’s because you’re drunk or maybe it’s because you’re so, so weak for him, but suddenly you find yourself stumbling forward. He catches you easily, circling his arms around your waist, as if this is something he’s been doing for years, and then his lips are on yours and the feeling is dizzying, the rest of the world completely fading away.
It’s maybe the best kiss you’ve ever had, and yet, as soon as he pulls away, all the thoughts from before come back in 100 miles an hour, and you step back.
“I’m sorry,” you croak out, and his smile immediately fades, a frown appearing in return. “But we probably shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why?” he questions, trying to reach out to you, but you take another step back. “Cause, you’re gonna work with the kids, and it’s not professional, and I could lose my internship if they found out, and…”
“Wait,” Carter interrupts. “I wasn’t aware this wasn’t allowed?”
You swallow thickly, trying to regain your composure. You’re not technically sure it’s not allowed, and deep in your heart, you know losing your internship isn’t really what you’re scared of.
Guys like Carter just don’t go for girls like you, and you’re scared of getting hurt.
“I’m sorry,” you whimper again. To Carter’s credit, he takes it in stride, and sighs, before nodding.
“Okay,” he says. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at school, then?”
You nod, and watch as he sends you another weak smile, then stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks down your driveway, back to his car.
You’d known you were going down a treacherous slope with this one, but you hadn’t expected falling would hurt this much, this soon.
#carter hart#carter hart imagine#carter hart one shot#carter hart fic#nhl one shot#nhl imagine#nhl writing#nhl fic#hockey one shot#hockey imagine#hockey fic#philadephia flyers#philadephia flyers imagine#philadelphia flyers one shot#philadephia flyers fic
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How to Survive a Factory Tour - Chapter 5
A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory FanFiction
PREVIOUS
----------
I am so fucking exhausted. And hungry. Well, I always am, but recently I’ve been more so than usual.
For the past few days, a lot of my co-workers have been off for Christmas. This meant little old me had to pick up god knows how many extra shifts. For the past few days, I’ve had to skip out on proper meals, only having a quick snack when I got home.
And, no, by snack, I do not mean the Wonka bar. Still haven’t eaten it. No one has.
Two days after Roman Prince won a ticket, I expect Remy to say the fourth ticket’s been won. You know, since there’s been a pattern of them being found every two days. However, when Remy comes in, he simply orders his drink, chats a bit and leaves. It’s honestly surprising, especially with the tour being in five days.
Anyway, I continue working for the next few hours, praying the tips at the end will be worth it. Then, finally, my manager comes out and dismisses me, but not before dividing my share of the money in the tip jar. I hang up my apron, pull on my hoodie and leave the shop.
If there’s one good thing about being poor in Florida, it’s that you never have to worry about freezing. With winters of 75°F, it doesn’t matter that my thin, patched-up hoodie is the warmest thing I own.
It doesn’t mean the walk home is perfect, however. My stomach’s being as loud as an earthquake. Shut up, will you. Just wait until Mom comes home and hopefully she brings some dinner.
I soon arrive at our little shack, gently opening the front door and stepping inside. “Thomas, I’m home!”
I pause, waiting for my brother to reply. There’s no response. “Thomas? Hello?” Nothing. “Thomathy? Thomas the dank engine?”
Still nothing. I feel my heart rate picking up. Oh god, what if part of the ceiling collapsed on him... o-or the lack of food in the house caught up on him and he starved...
All the worst possibilities come to mind. Thomas is supposed to be here, he always is when I come home. Something’s wrong, he’s hurt, I just know it. I can’t breathe. Everything’s going blurry. My heart’s thudding too hard.
Suddenly, everything’s black.
...
”Virgil! Virgil, wake up!”
I come back to my senses to find myself led on our lumpy couch, and someone leaning over me.
”Th-Thomas...? You’re okay?”
”Virge! Thank god you’re awake! I was so worried... What happened?”
I sit up, Thomas helping me adjust. “I... You weren’t home. I got scared something had happened, and...”
”Panic attack, huh?” Thomas asks. I nod. “I’m really sorry, Virge, I should’ve left a note so you knew I was heading out...”
It was only then I notice a shopping bag at Thomas’ feet. “What’s that?”
Thomas takes a deep breath. “I have a confession. While I have put most of the money you earned for me towards college, I’ve also been saving up for something else.” He reaches down into the bag and pulls out...
”A video camera? What do you need a camera for?”
”I felt bad that you and Mom were doing so much for me but I wasn’t doing anything in return. I’ve wanted to get a job for a while, but I didn’t know how to get one that fit around my school schedule. I decided I needed to do something where I can organise my own hours and I didn’t need to get a whole lot, so I figured maybe...I could do YouTube. I’ve got the camera, and Remy said I could record at his and edit and upload on his computer. Hopefully, I’ll get enough viewers to monetize and get some money to help us, all the while making fun content.”
”Thomas... that is fucking brilliant.”
Thomas smiles. “Thanks. But none of that matters right now. You literally just passed out, you need to get your strength back.” He gets up and leaves the room, heading to the kitchen. A few moments later, he comes back and pushes something into my hand. “Eat.”
I look down at the bar. “I... I can’t.”
”Why not?”
”The money was meant to be for you...”
Thomas rolls his eyes. “It’s okay! It was only a dollar or so for this. You deserve a reward for everything you’ve done for me. Now, open it and eat.”
I sigh, knowing Thomas won’t give in. He can be really stubborn if he needs to be. I start peeling back the wrapper.
HO. LY. SHIT.
GOLD. FUCKING GOLD.
Thomas and I both stare at the ticket. He breaks the silence.
”This is gonna make a great first video.”
I pause before holding it out to him. “You have it.”
”What?! No way in hell! You won it and bought it with your own money. And as I said, you deserve a reward.” Thomas pushes the ticket back into my hands. “Virgil, you’re going to Willy Wonka’s factory.”
-
”FOURTH TICKET!”
I practically slide into the room upon hearing Emile’s yell. I plop next to him on the sofa and watch the TV screen.
There are three guys there, and I can’t tell which the winner is. One is wearing sunglasses, a white t-shirt, a black jacket, black jeans, and has an arm around the shoulders of the person in the middle.
The one in the middle has brown hair, and is wearing a purple shirt, ripped black skinny jeans and a patched black and purple hoodie. He looks pretty uncomfortable at all the attention.
The third looks identical to the second. He looks more comfortable on camera than who I presume is his twin brother. He was wearing a grey shirt, an old brown jacket, and jeans.
As I watch, they’re revealed to be called Remy Sleep, and Virgil and Thomas Sanders. Virgil’s the one who won the ticket. He seems so shy! Well, I’ll make sure to make him feel welcome during the tour.
Speaking of the tour, Virgil lives in Florida, and in the same town as the Wonka factory! That’s awesome! He’s sooooo lucky. Imagine being able to buy Wonka bars nice and fresh. I bet they’d be even more delicious then.
Oh boy, four out of five tickets have already been won with five days to go! I can’t wait to find out who wins the last one!
-
It seems my predictions have been proven right yet again. The next ticket was found in Florida. Just the one in Australia left now.
There’s not much else to say about the ticket being won, really. Nothing worth saying. Robert still blames me, so some things never change.
Joan and Talyn have been trying to find a way to hide a camera on my person so they can see the factory for themselves. It’s rather funny to hear their extravagant ideas, though I doubt I’ll try any. They’ll have to settle with my explanation.
They’re going to be coming with me to Florida, though. Of course my family aren’t, but Joan and Talyn didn’t want me to be alone, so got tickets for the flight too.
I totally didn’t beg them to come because I have a fear of flying...
Okay, I watch Air Crash Investigation too much. It’s educational and very intriguing, if slightly anxiety inducing.
But the point is, they’re coming with me. We’re arriving the day before the tour and leaving the day after. Joan and Talyn are going to be heading up to Orlando the day of the tour to go to Universal Studios. They’re going to meet up with me once the tour’s over. Everything’s arranged, and I’ve even written up schedules for us all so no one will be at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Some may call it excessive, I call it efficient.
But I digress. The point is I’m fully ready and prepared...
To wipe this in my brother’s face.
-
Oh, how perfect! An emo nightmare just won the final ticket and is coming with us on the tour! How wonderful!
That was sarcasm, in case you couldn’t tell.
Call me quick to judge, but I’m not too fond of those edgy, melodramatic, dark emo types. They just seem to always bring down the mood. I’d rather my time at the greatest factory in the entire world didn’t be ruined by some moody, angsty, and by the looks of it, very socially awkward guy.
But I guess it’s too late now. He’s got a ticket, he’s going. Fun.
However, lets brush that aside for now. There’s more interesting stuff than ‘Virgil’ or whatever his name was winning a ticket.
The day after I’d won my ticket, my dads were out so I hosted a party at my place to celebrate my victory. It was great. We played spin the bottle and I got to kiss none other than school heartthrob Nate Christopher. It was probably one of the greatest moments of my life. Valerie even took a picture and sent it to me so I could “treasure the moment I could pretend Nate was gay and into me”.
Why are all the best guys straight? Let’s hope I’ll find the one in Florida and he’ll actually be gay, or bi, or pan, or just likes dudes in general.
Anyway, in the middle of the party, I got a call from Pa. He said he and dad had arranged, not just flights and hotels, but a two-week holiday in America. First, a week and two days in Florida, two days in the town with the factory, then the morning after the tour we’ll drive up to Orlando to go to Disney World. Then, we’ll fly up to New York, which is where we’ll spend the rest pf the two weeks, because Dad managed to get us all tickets to see Be More Chill on Broadway! I’m so excited, it’s going to be the best two weeks of my life.
----------
NEXT
Tags: @clone-number-1, @pumpkinminette, @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing
#sanders sides#thomas sanders#virgil sanders#sanders sides virgil#patton sanders#sanders sides patton#logan sanders#sanders sides logan#roman sanders#sanders sides roman#sleep sanders#remy sanders#emile picani#dr emile picani#sanders sides au#au#charlie and the chocolate factory au#fanfic#fanfiction#logicality#prinxiety#valerie torres-rosario#joan stokes#ts talyn#joan and talyn
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13 envelopes
pairing: reader x lin
summary: After graduating from UCLA, you would find any way to escape having to go back home. Lucky for you, your Aunt Jasmine Cephas Jones had organized a way for you to have the adventure you’d never gotten to have before. You’re ready to take her up on the offer.
warnings: rpf (naturally), mentions of teen pregnancy
tagged: @defenestrate-yourself-please@justabravelittleblogger@decayingtrash@andschuyler@linslovelylocks @elithepeali@sarahgurl09@fancy-fighting-name
a/n: We’re almost caught up with the original posting! I actually held off on posting this part until I finished the sixth part... so the fact this is being posted means part six is officially finished. That’s right! There’s a part six! It’s on my drive! I’m working on part seven right now. You can read the original part four here. I don’t know if this one got edited as much.
(part one) (part two) (part three)
Envelope #4
Ever since the MET, you couldn’t get your mind off how it felt in comparison to the trips to outdoor theaters in Los Angeles. Maybe Jasmine had the right idea about immersing yourself in a moment without technology. Maybe it was what you’d been looking for in ages. It forced you to write everything down – you’d filled at least three pages in your journal at this point. Envelope four held a new challenge - that much you knew. But upon seeing the three hearts drawn on it, you decided to put it off.
So instead of opening it the minute you got home, you spent the next day deciding what kind of new phone to get. You hadn’t had a new phone since you were sixteen – the same little first-generation iPhone you’d gotten for your sixteenth birthday. It had been a nice, solidly dependent phone for the past eight years but perhaps it was beyond time you got a new one. What you settled on was a gold iPhone 6s and a plan that guaranteed you unlimited data. To your great surprise, it only cost you five hundred upfront – you’d spent more last week on a single pair of shoes. That made it easier to justify the cost of the phone, really.
The fourth envelope couldn’t be put off forever as Hamilton was in the process of moving from rehearsals to previews, limiting your experience with the musical now. This made it harder to justify to putting off the envelope. Pippa was insistent that you wait until the premiere to experience it and Jasmine sided with her. Which meant the fourth envelope was now heavy on your mind as you entered week three of being in New York City. Whatever it was had to be faced soon and so you sat on the bed of the room you’d been given, steadying your breath. It can’t be that bad, you assured yourself.
Honey Bun,
So far you’ve done more than you ever thought you would do, huh? You’ve lived with a stranger (who I bet you’re already getting to know pretty well!), you’ve gone to the MET… and you’re going to do way more. I’ve laid out a few adventures for you, but one adventure you’ve gotta try is asking someone out. Guy, girl, whatever you happen to be into, you’ve gotta go and ask someone out. Why?
Well, in my personal experience, just going for it and taking a leap is easy when it just about you. Getting on a plane with only a backpack when it’s just being on your own is easy. It’s easy to take a leap for a career – moving to a new city to audition for a tv show? Easy. It’s easy to apply for a job knowing you might be rejected. It’s easy to apply for a new apartment and moving into that.
Putting your heart on a line and taking a risk that you might get rejected? That’s terrifying. Love is terrifying in that regard – you risk more than just pride when asking someone out. You risk a broken heart. And you need to take that risk at least once in your life. Ask someone out – take a leap of faith. Here’s to hoping it works out for you!
And if not, I’ve included five hundred dollars for you to take yourself out to a nice dinner anyway. Once you’ve completed this task, you may open envelope five. And to make sure you complete this task, Pippa’s going to bother you about who you plan on asking out once you’ve gotten to this point.
All my love,
Aunt Jas
Your heart stopped. Your aunt had to be joking. Find someone and ask them out? All because she thought it was easy to get on a plane with only a backpack and leaving behind all your electronics? You considered calling your mother and telling her you were coming home, calling the entire trip off. But then you remembered the invite to the premiere of Hamilton. At this point, you wanted to see the rest of Lin’s stunning masterpiece and how it’d look when it was on the stage. According the letter, Pippa was going to ask a lot of questions about who she planned to ask out. You briefly considered simply pocketing the money and going straight to envelope five. And as angry as you were at the suggestion that you had never asked anyone out in your life, you couldn’t find it in you to ignore the instructions in the letter.
Ignoring the instructions in the envelope and proceeding to envelope five without following through felt a bit like cheating. You’d followed every other instruction to the letter, so you figured what was the harm in this one? And you realized that there was someone you wanted to at least get to know better, though you’d never tell Pippa that. You had a feeling with all she pushed Lin on you she was on a mission to set the two of you up. Why, you couldn’t figure out. You were certain that eventually in time it’d make sense. How, you weren’t sure.
Still, you were nervous as you found yourself backstage before the evening show and wishing you’d at least also bought new jeans while Pippa had taken you shopping on fifth. You felt like a disaster in the old raggedy jeans, only grateful that at least you knew your face wasn’t a disaster. Suddenly a lot that could go wrong with this entered your head – he could have a girlfriend, he could be gay, he could have thought you and he were just friends.
It didn’t feel very brave, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. It didn’t feel brave when his dark eyes were on you, making you wonder if running was an option. “Uh, so… I was wondering if,” you said, the warmth in your cheeks making it very clear that this was a bad idea all around. At least it wasn’t obvious when you blushed. But you made it this far and you’d be damned if you didn’t see it through. You were stubborn like that. You owed your doctorate to that stubbornness. So you summoned your will power and stood straight up, looking him in the eyes. Oh. They were so very brown. So gorgeous. Like you were being pulled into a void and could never escape. “If you’d, er, like to go to dinner… with me. Like… as a date.”
You could feel the heat rushing up to your cheeks yet again as he seemed to look you over – was he trying to figure out the best way to let you down? The moment lasted far too long. A beat, a second beat. You wished his eyes would stop being so hypnotic, you wish you could stop noticing tiny details in his face. You wish you could also stop overthinking too. Every single second seemed drawn out, and it was like you could feel the clock ticking. Tick, tock, tick, tock. It dragged, and you could think of almost everything that could wrong. You weren’t expecting his answer.
“I was hoping you’d ask me out, honestly,” he said, and he sounded relieved to your great surprise. You could feel your heart soaring and the world felt so much lighter as a result. “I mean, I have a total lack of game, so I was worried if I asked you out, I’d freak you out and you’d… not want to go out with me.”
It was like your brain short circuited. For once, you were left at a total loss of what to say. For once your mind was clear from all the chatter in your head. If there had been one thing you’d been good at for the past six years, it was figuring out how to say something. But now there was no wit to respond to the idea that a very cute Broadway star who wrote the most insane, genius thing you’d ever heard wanted to ask you out. “Oh,” was your brilliant response. “So… that’s a yes?”
It seemed to dawn on him he never gave a yes or no answer to a yes or no question. “Oh! Yes, it’s definitely a yes,” he said, causing you to smile slightly at his blush. “However, can I make a request?”
“Cool,” you managed to get out, wishing you could think of something witty to say in response. Something charming that would leave him thinking about you. “Yeah, of course.”
“Can it be breakfast instead? An early one, at that? My nights have gotten a little hit or miss on availability.”
Breakfast. Nontraditional. “That would be nice, actually. I just got a new phone… if you’d like the number to help me break it in.”
His grin was more than encouraging. “Absolutely,” he said. “And I hate to go and kick you out after getting your number, but your aunt and Pippa will kill me if I let you see the previews before opening night so…”
Suddenly nothing in your backpack was right for the date. Everything was too casual or too formal and you absolutely needed to get a new outfit specifically for this date. The five hundred packed in the letter went straight to the new outfit. A simple dress and white converse to match – something that said “I just threw this old thing on”. At least, that’s what you hoped it said. You weren’t the kind of person who woke up at 4:30 am for breakfast, but because Lin’s schedule was as crazy hectic as Pippa’s was lately (you rarely saw her at the apartment anymore) you would have to make some sacrifices to your sleep schedule to keep the date. You were certain you’d have to sacrifice your sleep schedule further in the coming months just to get to see Pippa and Jasmine more too.
Monday was going to be exhausting for you, you could already tell as you pushed yourself out of bed and pulled the new yellow dress that complimented your skin tone nicely over your head with a big yawn. You didn’t want to fuss too much – it was a ponytail and tinted moisturizer with a light pink gloss kind of date you decided. Something that made it seem like you naturally woke up beautiful with little effort.
The last date you had been on when you were on had been three years ago and went horribly when you had told the guy you didn’t plan on sleeping with him. Which was at the front of your mind in worry. You were certain that Lin wasn’t that kind of guy, but it was still a worry. A bridge you’d cross when you get there, you decided. Besides, when you arrived at the diner and saw him you felt like your heart stopped. His shoulder length hair was up in a bun and he’d already ordered some coffee, it would seem. You slide into the other side of the booth with a bright grin. “So… hi there.”
Lin grinned upon seeing you and there it was again – your heart stuttering in instant reaction to him. You wondered how it was even possible he was on a date with you of all people in the world. Sure, you’d asked him out, but it just didn’t seem like he should have agreed to begin with. It didn’t make sense, it didn’t add up. But here he was. “Hi,” he said, and you realized you’d missed his voice already. “So. I’ve been thinking about that thesis of yours.”
“Oh,” you said, a bit surprised. He was thinking about you? A Broadway star thought about you? It certainly made your ego go up. “What were you thinking about my thesis?”
“I was thinking that you’ve got to let me read it,” he said, leaning forward towards you with his eyebrow quirked up. “Since Hamilton and In the Heights both revolved around representing communities of color, it’d be interesting to hear your own views on representation in media.”
“Well, they’ve grown a bit more refined since college,” you said with a light grin, the two of you ordering a crazy amount of food that you were certain neither of you would ever be able to finish. Which mean that at least you weren’t going to be hungry for a while. “But I suppose I could let you read the baseline thoughts on the subject. Though that’s just the first dissertation, actually. I had to write two. The first was for a media studies class, the second was for my creative writing class.”
“Oh, so you write too?”
You nodded, taking a sip of the coffee before slightly gagging – it was a bit strong, so you poured nine packets of sugar and five creams into your coffee. “Yeah, but nothing like you do. It’s just… for fun, really. I was more trying to do script doctoring back home. Or some other kind of editing job, actually. It’s easier to criticize than write.”
He laughed. “Easier to criticize than write,” he repeated with a slight grin. “I’m going to use that as a retort next time someone criticizes my writing. So what was the dissertation for your creative writing class?”
“It’s a great line… granted there’s a lot of great lines I come up with,” you said and realizing that the sleep deprivation was helping with the confidence. You supposed anything that helped you feel more on his level would help you out. “Uh, the creative writing dissertation was actually… about the world building of Harry Potter. Please, please don’t laugh at what a nerd I am!”
To your great surprise, his eyes light up and his grin seemed to grow even bigger if that was even possible. “You’re joking,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “Just when I couldn’t think you’d get any more amazing, you wrote a dissertation on the world building of Harry Potter! That’s… that’s literally the coolest anything anyone has ever done! You have to let me read that one too.”
And with that, the conversation flowed all the easier. From the minute he geeked out over you writing a dissertation about Harry Potter, all reservations you could have possibly had melted away. He was a geek in the best possible way. Which made it easier to dive into conversations about Doctor Who, Buffy, and various bits of literature that had been required in various classes. He mentioned that he went to Wesleyan, telling you all about how it was a university in New York City. He mentioned that he grew up in New York City and how his first musical had been based off his home neighborhood of Washington Heights.
The more the two of you talked, the more time got away from the both of you. It seemed like only ten minutes had passed since the two of you got to the diner but before long, his phone was ringing. His eyes went wide as he noticed the time as well. “Shit, that’s Lac,” he said as he hit answer on the phone. “Yes, I know. Time got away from me, I’m already on my way.” He hung up without letting Alex get another word in. “I’m… so sorry, I have to go.”
Lin waved the waitress over to settle the check. “It’s okay,” you said even though you really wished he could stay longer. “I mean, you are starring in a big Broadway show so you’re probably in high demand. It was… nice. This was very nice.”
He grinned at you. “Maybe we could do it again sometime,” he said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. You were too stunned to respond. “I’ll text you later.”
#lin manuel x reader#lin manuel imagine#lin miranda x reader#lin miranda imagine#lin manuel miranda imagine#13envelopes
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Snow Angels
This is my fydna secret Santa gift for @kourrais - I hope you like it!
“Hurry up, Miyuki Kazuya! We’re going to miss it!”
“What? We’re not going to miss anything, Sawamura, it’s still snowing.” Kazuya squinted, watching the dancing figure in front of him as he jumped around excitedly.
“It’s the first snow since I’ve been at Seido! We have to get to the field before it stops or someone ruins it!” Eijun insisted, still bounding in place.
Kazuya shivered. “It’s cold out here. Wouldn’t you rather go back to my room? I’ll make some hot chocolate and we can watch some of those American Christmas movies you love so much. What are they called, Hallway?”
“Hallmark.” Eijun corrected him. “They’re Hallmark movies.” He’d stopped jumping and was watching Kazuya through narrowed eyes. “You’re just saying that so we’ll go back inside. But you promised...”
“I know I did,” Kazuya said, hunching into his coat and trying to look as miserable as he could. “And I will. But I was just offering a possible alternative to freezing to death.”
“It’s not that cold out here,” Eijun said. “Nagano’s much colder, you’ll see.”
“I’ve changed my mind, why don’t we spend the break here?”
“Come on, Miyuki!”
“I’m coming, seriously. Don’t you see me following you into the snow like some idiotic yeti or something?” Kazuya sighed, resuming the trudge. “You know, you could lend me some of your body heat.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come here, walk by me,” Kazuya said, motioning him back. Eijun slowed, allowing Kazuya to catch up. Kazuya slid his arm through Eijun’s, pulling the suddenly tense boy close.
“But Miyuki—” he hissed, tugging at his hand.
“It’s fine, if anyone’s crazy enough to be out in this, they’re not going to notice us.” Kazuya slid their newly joined hands into his pocket. “I don’t really care if they know about us anyway.”
“That’s not what you said before,” Eijun said, with a frown. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know.”
“I didn’t, but I’ve thought about it and I don’t really care,” Kazuya said, slanting a look at the still confused Eijun. “If they think us being together makes me treat you differently on the field, let them. We’ll just have to prove them wrong.”
“Really? I don’t want to cause you trouble or embarrassment,” Eijun’s eyes darkened and his face fell, sadness washing across it.
Kazuya blinked, pulling Eijun to a stop in the middle of the snowy walkway. “Wait, where did this come from?” He grabbed Eijun’s other hand, turning to face him. “Eijun, look at me. Please?”
Eijun reluctantly raised his head, meeting Kazuya’s worried gaze with his darkened one.
“You’re not an embarrassment; I’ve never even considered you to be. Is that why you think I didn’t want to let anyone know?”
“Kinda?” Eijun shrugged. “I know I’m loud and sometimes I act like an idiot, you’ve got a reputation and your future to consider. You might not want to be associated with someone like me.”
“No, no. I am so sorry,” Kazuya pulled him closer. “I was just worried that people would think I was favoring you on the field. I’ll never be ashamed of you, ever. I’m not worried about my future, either. If they don’t want me because of who I’m with, I don’t want to play for them anyway.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to cause you any problems; I don’t want you to lose anything because of me.”
“I won’t, I promise. Not anything that’s important, at least.” Kazuya pushed Eijun’s snow-covered hair out of his face. “I am not ashamed of you and I really don’t care who knows about us. Our parents are the only ones who really matter, and they’re all fine with it.” He dropped one of Eijun’s hands, turning back towards the snow-covered fields. “Now, what was so urgent that we have to be out here turning into icicles instead of inside and warm?”
“Snow!” Eijun said excitedly. “Snow angels and snowballs and snowmen!”
“And you had to do it while it was still snowing?”
“Of course! We can’t make snow angels if people have been trampling it.”
Kazuya shrugged, conceding the point. “I guess.”
They continued down the path, Eijun’s hand tucked into Kazuya’s pocket.
“I don’t think we’re much of a secret, anyway.” Eijun said. “Kuramochi-senpai said something to me the other day about being safe and wearing a raincoat. I didn’t know what he meant so he glared and put me in a chokehold, muttering something about idiots and assholes.”
“He’s the one I’d expect to figure it out,” Kazuya said with a shrug. “I was serious, I don’t care.”
“Okay, I just don’t want you to hate me or something.”
Kazuya felt his heart sink, the insecurity in Eijun’s voice reminding him of the yips and the bleakness that enveloped them both during that time. They hadn’t been together then, but Kazuya had been so worried about him, unable to do anything but watch and hope that he’d find his way out. His gut roiled as he realized the damage he’d done to Eijun by insisting they keep their relationship a secret.
“Eijun, no. I could never hate you, never. I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you’re something I want to keep hidden away, that wasn’t my intention, I swear.”
Eijun looked at him, eyes lightening. “I know that’s what you said, I didn’t know if you were just saying that to make me feel better.”
“You should know me well enough to know that I’m not worried about making most people feel better by lying to them,” Kazuya said.
“True, you do have a terrible personality.” Eijun nodded sagely.
“Thanks, Eijun.” Kazuya said dryly. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have agreed to be with you if I wanted to keep it a secret.” He shivered again. “And why do we have to talk about this in the middle of a blizzard?”
“This isn’t a blizzard; it’s just a few inches of snow.” Eijun scoffed. “Come on, let’s go play for a little while and then you can make hot chocolate and we’ll watch Hallmark movies for the rest of the evening.”
“Hey!” Kazuya objected. “That was a one-time offer, it expired.”
Eijun’s face fell and Kazuya found himself talking without thinking. “But we can do that, sure.” The brilliant smile and shining eyes were enough of a reward for Kazuya, who resigned himself to an evening of sappy stories and sugar.
Eijun’s eyes softened and his smile gentled. “You’re really cold, huh?”
“Well, yeah. I don’t usually hang out in the snow unless we’re training. And then we’re moving enough that I stay warm.”
“I...that makes sense,” Eijun said. “Not everyone grew up where snow’s a long term thing. I just really want to do one thing with you, if that’s okay.”
“You dragged me out here, we might as well.” Kazuya snarked, reclaiming Eijun’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “What is it?”
“It’s something I never could get any of the guys back home to do with me, but I think you could handle it.” Eijun said with a grin.
Kazuya narrowed his eyes. “What do you think I’d be willing to do that they wouldn’t? They were raised in this stuff.”
“Catch my pitches,” Eijun said simply.
“What does that have to do with…?” Kazuya trailed off, eyes widening. “You want me to catch you pitching snowballs?”
“Yes! Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Isn’t that basically a snowball fight?”
“Kinda?” Eijun’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “But I won’t be throwing them at you, but to you.”
“I didn’t bring anything to catch with.”
Eijun’s shoulders slumped. “We didn’t, did we?” He perked up as he had a thought. “We can just play catch, not throw too hard.”
“Sure,” Kazuya shrugged, intrigued by the idea. “As long as I have to be out here, we might as well do something.”
Eijun grinned, bouncing on his toes. “We can go down to the field and see how far apart we can get and still be able to catch the snowball!”
“You really think it’s possible?”
“I don’t know,” Eijun admitted. “At home, whenever we’d try, the balls would break when they would try to catch them. The others would leave before we could figure it out or they’d get bored and start a real snowball fight. I thought we might be able to do it.” He started down the stairs, followed by Kazuya, stepping where Eijun had already been.
“Why did we have to come all the way out here, though?” Kazuya asked. “We could have done this in the courtyard or something.”
“I...I just wanted to do it with you, not with everyone.” Eijun said, stepping closer to him. “We don’t spend much time together with just the two of us and I kinda wanted it to be our memory.”
Kazuya felt his heart melt a little more. At this rate, he’d be a complete puddle before the end of the night. “That’s a good plan.” He closed the distance between them. “I like it.” He leaned in and kissed Eijun on his lips, quickly, before stepping back. “Now, how do you want to do this?”
“Okay.” Eijun moved about five feet away from Kazuya. “Make a snowball and toss it to me.”
Kazuya bent down and grabbed some snow, packing it loosely into a ball. He threw it to Eijun underhand, with as little force as he could.
It fell apart before it reached Eijun.
“Don’t you know how to make a snowball?”
“I just did, didn’t I?”
“It didn’t stay together, though.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious. Now, can you stop complaining and show me how to do it? It’s not like I grew up in the northern wilds, like some people I know.”
“You’re right. I’ll bet Furuya packs a mean snowball.”
“That’s not who I meant, idiot. Will you make a snowball before we all turn into ice?”
Eijun laughed and picked up some snow, tamping it together as hard as he could to form a firm ball. “It’s not that cold out here, Kazuya. You’d have to work at it to turn to ice.”
“I don’t think it’s wise to take any chances,” Kazuya argued.
“Fair enough,” Eijun conceded. “Here, catch this!” He lobbed the ball softly to Kazuya, who caught it without it breaking.
“We did it!” Kazuya said, eyeing the snowball with distrust.
“We kinda did, huh?” Eijun said. “Now, we should both step back a bit, and you throw it to me.”
They separated by a few more feet and Kazuya tossed the ball back. Eijun caught it and took another step back before throwing it back to Kazuya, who tried to catch it, only to have it fall apart when it touched his hands.
“That’s okay, we’ll just try again,” Eijun said. “You go ahead and make another snowball, just pack it together as tightly as you can.”
Kazuya did, pressing the snow together as hard as he could to form a ball. He passed it to Eijun, who caught it, crowing. “Good job, Miyuki Kazuya!”
That ball only lasted a few turns before breaking again. They continued to form and toss snowballs until they were about 20 feet apart.
“Now we can throw a little harder,” Eijun suggested, and that’s when things went downhill. As much as they tried, neither one of them could throw the ball much harder than a toss without it breaking. After several failures, Eijun noticed that Kazuya was looking miserable, even though he was trying to hide it.
“Are you okay?” He asked, closing the distance between them. “You’re freezing, aren’t you?”
“I’m okay, we can try again,” Kazuya answered, trying to hide his shivering.
“No, no.” Eijun rubbed Kazuya’s arms briskly. “We can quit. We tried; it’s not going to work. It was a stupid idea.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, you’re really cold; I didn’t think it was that cold out here.” Eijun slipped his hand through Kazuya’s arm, “Let’s go back.”
“Okay,” Kazuya agreed, leaning into Eijun, seeking warmth.
“When we get back, you should hop into a warm shower. I can make the hot cocoa.”
“You should take a shower too, you’re cold.” Kazuya insisted.
“I don’t know if we should be…”
“It’ll be fine.” Kazuya interrupted. “We’ve done it tons of times before.”
“But that was when the rest of the team was around!” Eijun exclaimed.
“I...I didn’t think about that,” Kazuya said. “But I think we’ll be fine if we’re careful. I mean, we’ve been taking it really slow, right? We’ll just keep it up.”
“Why don’t you hop into the shower first and I’ll go get our clothes and stuff, then I can shower.”
“Okay, then I’ll go make hot cocoa while you shower.” Kazuya said with a nod. “That should work.”
They’d gotten back to the dorms by this time and were heading across the courtyard when they heard someone call their names.
“Sawamura, Miyuki! Hey, you!”
They turned in unison to see Kuramochi hanging out of the door of his room and walked that way. “What are you idiots doing out in the storm?”
“Hi, Kuramochi-senpai!” Eijun said, grabbing his attention. “We went out to play catch.”
“In this?” Kuramochi looked at him incredulously.
“What he didn’t say was that we were trying to catch snowballs,” Kazuya explained.
“Yeah! We wanted to see if we could do it.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Kuramochi said. “Why didn’t you tell me about it? I’d like to have seen it.”
“That’s my faul—” Eijun started before being cut off.
“We wanted to spend some time alone together,” Kazuya interjected. “We don’t get much, so we thought it was a good idea to take advantage of it.”
Kuramochi raised an eyebrow at him. “Finally making it public, are we? It’s about time; this poor kid’s had a rough time of it, trying to keep a secret that makes him so happy.” He crossed his arms and stared down his nose at Kazuya. “You’d better treat him right. I know you, Miyuki, and I know what you’re capable of. Both good and bad.”
“I plan to,” Kazuya answered him mildly, glad that Eijun had someone who was looking out for his wellbeing. “I was just concerned that people would think I was favoring him on the field.”
“I understand that,” Kuramochi said with a nod. “But they’re just going to have to get over it. You can’t treat him like he’s something shameful, to be hidden. No matter how well intentioned the motivation. It’s not fair.”
“You’re right; I didn’t realize how much it bothered him until today.” Kazuya agreed with him, trying not to shiver too much in the cold.
Eijun noticed, though, and interrupted what was beginning to feel like an interrogation by a parent. “Kuramochi-senpai, we’re freezing, we need to get in a warm shower.” He tugged on Kazuya’s arm.
“I’ll bet you are.” Kuramochi eyed them narrowly. “Remember, we all have to take showers in that room, please don’t do anything gross.”
“We won’t.” Eijun nodded his agreement.
“I’m going to make some hot cocoa and we’re going to watch some of those hallway movies, if you want to come.”
“Miyuki Kazuya, you’re doing that on purpose. Hallmark. They’re Hallmark movies.”
“You’re making cocoa?”
“I am.”
“And watching those sappy things? On purpose?”
“I am.”
“Okay, I’ll be there. But you two had better not do anything that makes my head explode. In fact, you two need to not do anything at all, ever. I can’t think of you like that without getting a massive headache.”
Kazuya pasted a snarky grin on his face. “Of course, Kuramochi. We won’t do anything.” Eijun snorted a laugh, hiding his face.
“God. Go away. Didn’t you say you were freezing to death? Get out of my doorway and go get a shower. Alone.” Kuramochi stepped back to close the door. “I’ll see you upstairs in half an hour. Be there or be dead.”
“Of course,” Eijun agreed and they turned, arm in arm, heading towards the showers and warmth.
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MScale (Part 1)
A/N: Wow okay, so this is a Soul Eater AU set in the Psycho-Pass universe that I wrote but never posted, and honestly I don’t know why. I really dig the idea and direction I was going with it, so let’s see how this goes. This will be a multi-chapter work.
Summary: There’s no rest for the wicked (or otherwise) when Death City is crawling with latent criminals. It’s Maka Albarn’s first day as an inspector at the Shibusen Madness Scale Law Enforcement Department, and what a first day it is.
Word Count: 2511
Genre: Psycho-Pass AU; Action, Drama
Characters/Pairings: Maka Albarn, Death the Kidd (Dean Kiddenger), Black*Star, Soul “Eater” Evans, Sid Barrett, Myra Nygus, Crona Gorgon, Giriko Sawyer, Angela (mention of Mifune and Arachne)/None in this chapter
Warnings: Violence (threats with a knife and description of death by explosion [if you’ve seen Psycho-Pass, you know what I mean, if not, I don’t go into much detail, no worries]), minor character death, hostage situation
“Oh man oh man I’m going to be late!” A petite girl wove between masses of towering (over her, anyway) pedestrians; her blonde pigtails flew behind her when she finally broke free of the hoards and took off at a sprint. “Excuse me, pardon me, sorry-Whoa!!” Grabbing a pair of silver handles just before her face had an unfortunate encounter with spotless glass, Maka Albarn sighed with relief when big black characters declaring “Shibusen Madness Scale Law Enforcement Department” met her eyes instead. Righting herself, she threw the door open and attempted to speed through the lobby unnoticed, pulling up only when a skull-faced security droid requested her identification. "Oh, here-" She whipped out her newly commissioned PDA2400 and flashed her ID.
"Authorization Confirmed: Albarn, Maka. Your presence is requested in building 3, level 8, hall 5, security desk 12, belonging to the Enforcement of Autonomy through Technology Division."
"Thank-" She paused, realizing a drone likely didn't register appreciation, so she merely tightened her signature pigtails and pressed forward.
After nearly 10 whole minutes of wrong halls and desks, Maka finally strode toward number 12, trying to keep her assurance about her.
"Um..." Well, that went... "Is this the EAT Security desk?"
A raven haired man with brilliant golden eyes peered over his clipboard, his eyes narrowing as he flipped through the pages.
"You must be the new inspector....Albarn...Maka, correct?"
"Yes, Maka Albarn." She straightened her shoulders, declaring her name with a stable tone.
"Albarn, huh?..." He muttered to himself. It could be a coincidence... "Dean Kiddenger. You may address me as Inspector Kiddenger. Now if you'll follow me this way..." He gestured down the off-white hallway. Following him like a newly domesticated animal, she nearly bumped into him when he suddenly stopped in front of an automatic glass door. "This-" He withdrew an identification card from his pocket, slid it through the registration slot, and ushered her inside. "Is our headquarters, so to speak. At least, for our unit of The Enforcement of Autonomy through Technology Division. You, myself, and our subordinates will work here."
"Our-" Before she could get the question out, he was leading her to the side of the room.
"Your station is here." He pointed to a small desk with a flat screen computer. "Any and all assignments will be delivered to your desk or sent instantly to your personalized Shibusen messaging inbox. Assignment reports are due no later than 24 hours after the mission is completed and all Madness Scale Detection Guns are returned to their proper dock. Assignments that do not fit the proper formatting as outlined in form-"
"FID 1-M, Form of Inspector Duties, section one, subsection M, of the Shibusen Madness Scale Law Enforcement Division handbook."
He paused, his stare neutral as he observed her from behind his clipboard. Her mossy eyes glimmered, though she bit her lip a bit, realizing that she might have overstepped her bounds already...
"It's nice to find that the academy was successful in training at least one knowledgeable recruit." The faintest shadow of a smile nearly graced his lips as he continued. "Seeing as you likely know anything else I might tell you, I will save both of us the time and trouble. Now, we will proceed to-"
A screeching blare sounded from a black box attached to the man'a hip, prompting a frown from him and a grimace from his new charge.
"It seems we are needed. Kiddenger, Identification Code 4242564. Speak." Putting his ear to a small speaker, the elder inspector attentively absorbed the transmission, ending with a terse, "Yes, we'll be right down."
"It seems, Miss-....Inspector Albarn, that our assistance is needed in pursuit of a newly detected latent criminal."
"So soon? I mean, not that I'm not excited to jump into the job so quickly, I just....it seems so sudden."
"Yes, well, we are a bit short on manpower as of late. We don't normally commission new recruits so soon, but your scores and overall progress and knowledge seem to show that you are prepared. Now, follow me to the preparation quarters and we will do a brief run down before we meet the rest of the team."
~
"This-" Inspector Kiddenger placed his hands around a bulky gun, a large skull imprinted on the side. His eyes glowed white as the gun authenticated him. "Is your Madness Scale Detection gun, also called the “MSD” or “Demon” guns. They’re controlled by the Spartoi system. I trust you received lessons in the academy?"
"Yes...briefly, but I caught on quickly."
"Good. Now, as a reminder, the gun decides whether or not someone is a criminal to be subdued. The gun reads the Madness Scale of whomever it pointed at and will only unlock the trigger if the target is a latent criminal. The level of depravity determines the level of enforcement. Another reminder: Only Inspectors may use guns on Enforcers, not the other way around, because they are, in fact, latent criminals."
Her mossy eyes widened a bit as Maka pondered the implication. She knew, of course, what, or who, really, Enforcers were, but she never thought she'd meet them so soon, or that she would ever need to use a gun on one of them...
"Get your gun. The Enforcers should be here-" He was cut off as a massive shadow overtook the transparent door a few yards away. "Now."
The door slid open, and a group of five, led by a dark-headed woman with a bandaged face who must have been their supervising inspector, slowly filtered into the room and gathered their respective gear.
"These are the Enforcers." The lead inspector nodded to the silent woman, hardly bothering to lower his voice. "They are neither human nor animal, but some fine-line creatures that dwell in between. They are not as spotless as you or I, their Madness Scales having been thrown off balance long ago, but they have been deemed redeemable only through their abilities and knowledge, granting them whatever significant value to this system."
"I-I see..."
"Oooo Kiddo brought us some fresh meat!" A raucous tone declared. Maka soon identified the owner as an azure-haired muscle-head of a man; he approached her confidently, gun in hand as he looked her over. "Hmmm not bad, Kiddo, though she's a little...'small up north,' if you-OW!" He was cut off when another enforcer, a sizable man with cornrows, delivered a healthy slap to the back of his head, making him see stars.
"That's enough from you, punk." He grumbled. "Show the lady some respect. She's our new handler, after all."
"Indeed." Kiddenger broke in, shooting a disdainful glare at the loud mouth. "For today, Black*Star," He pointed to the now sheepish brawn for Maka's reference. "And Sid." He gestured to the towering figure. "Will come with me. Soul and Crona, you're with Inspector Albarn."
"All right, team, let's do this!!" Black Star thundered, pounding out the door as the other two men followed behind him.
"Well..." Maka turned, finding herself face-to-face with a set of the palest blue eyes she'd ever seen. "I'm Maka Albarn," She chirped. "And you're..."
"Uh...um, C-Crona G-G-Gorgon..." The robin egg irises shied from her gaze.
"And you-"
"Hey, Kidd and the others left like a full minute ago." A growling tone bit off. "We'll save intros for later, we need to get a move on." Silvery locks brushed past her, and she barely caught sight of flashing scarlet as the rough-throated figure breezed past her.
"Right, sorry....Soul?" She jogged after him, Crona trailing behind, his gun facing the floor. "So, where are we going, exactly?"
"Check your SPDA. You should've been sent the information as soon as we were assigned."
Flipping open her device, Maka found a briefing message awaiting her. Scrolling through, she picked out the general details and area of pursuit.
Target Name: Giriko Sawyer
Occupation: Pest Control Technician
Affiliation: Arachnaphobia Pest Control Services (Currently Under Surveillance)
Status: Targets condition detected by street scanners when he was on his lunch break. Never returned to his post. His last detection indicated that his Madness Scale Ratio was unbalanced at 30:70.
"The target's name is... Giriko... weird... okay, scanners not too far from here just picked up his readings. Let's go!" She took off at run, adrenaline feeding her elation as she lead her team to their mission field.
~
"Let's see..." Maka stood at the crossroads of two alleyways, trying to pinpoint which of her three options was their best bet. "Left leads deeper into the city...right leads toward the residential district...straight leads to the business sector...."
"He went right." Soul interjected.
Maka stalled. "How do you know?...That...natural instinct for sniffing out depravity?" She snuck a glance at the rather tall man poised in front of her; his face was stoic. Despite what the senior inspector had said, he looked pretty human to her...though his eyes...
He merely nodded to the right, indicating a discarded uniform hanging from a fruit crate. "Briefing said he works at Arachnophobia Pest Control, right?"
Blushing a bit, Maka followed the pair as they slowly moved forward. "Soul?"
"Yeah?" He grunted, angling toward her with a raised brow as they crept forward.
"What did it mean, in the mission update, when it said that Arachnophobia is under surveillance?"
"That place has churned out a handful of employees with MScale imbalances. Giriko is the third this year. Some team from Shibusen is keeping tabs on the place to see if they can pinpoint the cause."
"I see..." She started a bit when her PDA rang out with a mission update.
"H-he took a hostage." Crona stuttered out, his brows creased. "A k-kid...a little girl n-named Angela. What'll we do now, Soul?"
"What we're already doing. Track the guy down and wait for the Demon guns to tell us what to do with the scumb-"
A dark, lurching figure emerged from around an apartment building about a block ahead of them. A high-pitched little voice cried out indignantly. "You better let me go! You're gonna be sorry you took me! My daddy knows how to fight, and he'll kick your stupid butt with his big sword! He'll cut your guts ou-"
"Shaddup!" The man hollered, suddenly spinning around and pinning the child against the wall, a knife angled toward her tiny throat. "One more peep from you and I'll slice right through that windpipe of yours, ya hear?!"
The child's words clogged in her throat, her brown eyes wide in recognition. "M-Mister...Gir-?"
"Hey!" Maka cried, charging forward even as Crona and Soul grasped at her to keep quiet. "Let her g-"
"Stop right there or she dies!" Giriko demanded, pulling the child in front of him as a human shield, the knife still at her throat.
"Crap." Soul muttered from behind her.
"Hey, you! Alla you! Drop your guns, now! Or she dies!"
Throwing a glance behind the man, Maka slowly lowered her gun, signaling for the other two to do the same.
Detecting her subtle movement, the criminal peered over his shoulder. "The hell you-"
"AAHH!" Maka, her weapon raised and activated, charged at the man full force, gun pointed to his forehead.
"Target's MScale Ratio: 25:75. Now activating: sin erasing exec-."
"No you don't!" The man released the girl long enough to spin around and kick the gun from Maka's hands, a triumphant grin on his features. "Now you're in for it, Missy!" He bellowed, grabbing the girl in one arm and the inspector in the other. Laughing hysterically, he muttered, "There ain't no way I'm spendin' my life in one of those isolation rooms. I'm takin' both of you with me, and you'll be my pretty little-"
"-20:80. Now activating: sin erasing execution."
A roar shattered the air, and nothing was left of the man but scattered carnage and a pool of blood. Turning, Maka sighed with relief when she saw Kiddenger lowering his gun, Black Star and Sid looking on behind him.
Turning toward the little girl at her side, Maka started, "It's gonna be okay, swee-" She froze at the petrified look on the child's face; her tiny body trembled violently, her big brown eyes wide and watering. Bending down, Maka took the child into her embrace, rocking her as the girl murmured, "He…he w-worked w-with my d-addy...he...t-tried to k-k-" She exploded into sobs, gripping onto the woman as tears poured from her eyes.
"It's gonna be okay now, sweetie." Maka soothed, lifting the child into her arms as she turned to her team. "Everything's gonna be okay."
~
"H-How's she doing?" Crona asked a few hours later, coming up beside Maka as she watched the child from behind a two-way mirror.
"I think she'll be okay, eventually. Her madness scale took a hit after all that, but she's still a kid. They bounce back pretty well."
"I'll say...."
"Hey."
Soul poked his head in the door. "Kidd needs to talk to us."
In the conference room, Inspector Kiddenger and a spectacled lady Maka recognized as the Head Inspector, Yumi Azusa, sat at the head of a lengthy table.
"Inspector Albarn." Azusa began, her tone and her eyes the same cold steel. "Inspector Kiddenger has informed me that you took....unnecessary and highly dangerous risks during your recent mission."
"I-"
"You threw yourself at a latent criminal, allowed him to de-arm you and take you into his custody, correct?"
"Well, only-"
"Y-Yes, M-Ma'am,” Crona cut in, blushing when all eyes were on him. “Ah-she did, but-"
"She believed, though incorrectly, that her actions would allow her to free the hostage, even at a personal cost to herself."
"B-but-"
"Inspector Albarn, I understand that you are new here, but such actions cannot be taken. The risk posed to the hostage and to yourself-"
"But, ma'am, um...Chief Azusa,” Maka started. “We both made it out alive and safe, save for some blood stains, and my MScale was completely unaffected."
That froze the room for a moment.
Sighing, the other woman rose and assented, “Very well. Since you are new and your qualifications are exemplary, you will be pardoned with minor probationary action this one time. I expect a full and detailed report to be sitting on my desk by 5:30pm tomorrow, understood?"
"Yes ma'am."
~
"Wow." Soul deadpanned as the trio strode back to the observation room. "She's never gone that light on anybody. She must really be impressed with you."
Maka merely hummed in reply as she went in to interact with Angela.
"She's...different, Soul." Crona commented as they watched her bright eyes and sweet smile as she spoke with the recovering child. "I...I can't believe she wasn't tainted at all...even after that guy threatened her..."
Soul merely grunted in reply, his flashing gaze still locked on the outlandish inspector who was his newly assigned owner.
"B-but I'm glad she's here...A n-new face isn't s-so bad..."
"Yeah, let's just hope that we don't end up babysitting her more than she monitors us."
The older Enforcer turned on his heel, heading for his quarters to do a little investigating of his own.
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13 envelopes
pairing: reader x lin
summary: After graduating from UCLA, you would find any way to escape having to go back home. Lucky for you, your Aunt Jasmine Cephas Jones had organized a way for you to have the adventure you’d never gotten to have before. You’re ready to take her up on the offer.
warnings: rpf (naturally), mentions of teen pregnancy, swearing
a/n: so this chapter is the Best and y’all should appreciate it for the cutest ever
tagged: @defenestrate-yourself-please @justabravelittleblogger @decayingtrash @andschuyler
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 5)
Ever since the MET, you couldn't get your mind off how it felt in comparison to the trips to outdoor theaters in LA. Envelope four held a new challenge, that much you knew. But upon seeing the three hearts drawn on it, you decided to put it off. So instead of opening it the minute you got home, you spent the next day deciding what kind of new phone to get. You hadn't had a new phone since you were sixteen – the same little first generation iPhone you'd gotten for your sixteenth birthday. It had been a nice, solidly dependent phone for the past eight years but perhaps it was beyond time you got a new one. What you settled on was a gold iPhone 6s and a plan that guaranteed you unlimited data. To your great surprise, it only cost you five hundred upfront – you'd spent more last week on a single pair of shoes. That made it easier to justify the cost of them, really.
But the fourth envelope couldn't be put off forever even as Hamilton was in the process of moving from rehearsals to previews, limiting your experience with the musical now. Pippa was insistent that you wait until the premiere to experience it and Aunt Jasmine sided with her. Which meant the fourth envelope was now heavy on your mind as you entered week two of being in New York City. Whatever it was had to be faced soon and so you sat on the bed of the room you'd been given, steadying your breath. It can't be that bad, you assured yourself.
Honey bun,
So far you've done more than you ever thought you would do, huh? You've lived with a stranger (who I bet you're already getting to know pretty well!), you've gone to the MET... and you're going to do way more. I've laid out a few adventures for you, but one adventure you've gotta try is asking someone out. Guy, girl, whatever you happen to be into, you've gotta go and ask someone out. Why?
Well, in my personal experience, just going for it and taking a leap is easy when it just concerns you. Getting on a plane with only a backpack when it's just being on your own is easy. It's easy to take a leap for a career – moving to a new city to audition for a tv show? Easy. Putting your heart on a line and taking a risk that you might get rejected? That's terrifying. Love is terrifying in that regard – you risk more than just pride when asking someone out. And you need to take that risk at least once in your life. Ask someone out – take a leap of faith. Here's to hoping it works out for you!
And if not, I've included five hundred dollars for you to take yourself out to a nice dinner anyway. Once you've completed this task, you may open envelope five. And to make sure you complete this task, Pippa's going to bother you about who you plan on asking out once you've gotten to this point.
All my love,
Aunt Jas
Your heart stopped. Your aunt had to be joking. Find someone and ask them out? All because she thought it was easy to get on a plane with only a backpack and leaving behind all your electronics? You considered calling your mother and telling her you were coming home, calling the entire trip off. But then you remembered the invite to the premiere of Hamilton. At this point, you wanted to see the rest of Lin's stunning masterpiece and how it'd look when it was on the stage. According the letter, Pippa was going to ask a lot of questions about who she planned to ask out. You briefly considered simply pocketing the money and going straight to envelope five. And as angry as you were at the suggestion that you had never asked anyone out in your life, you couldn't find it in you to ignore the instructions in the letter.
Ignoring the instructions in the envelope and proceeding to envelope five without following through felt a bit like cheating. You'd followed every other instructions to the letter, so you figured what was the harm in this one? And you realized that there was someone you wanted to at least get to know better, though you'd never tell Pippa that. You had a feeling with all she pushed Lin on you she was on a mission to set the two of you up. Why, you couldn't figure out. You were certain that eventually in time it'd make sense. How, you weren't sure.
Still, you were nervous as you found yourself backstage before the evening show and wishing you'd at least also bought new jeans while Pippa had took you shopping on fifth. You felt like a disaster in the old raggedy jeans, only grateful that at least you knew your face wasn't a disaster. Suddenly a lot that could go wrong with this entered your head – he could have a girlfriend, he could be gay, he could have thought you and him were just friends. It didn't feel very brave, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. It didn't feel brave when his dark eyes were on you, making you wonder if running was an option. “Uh, so... I was wondering if,” you said, the warmth in your cheeks making it very clear that this was a bad idea all around. But you made it this far and you'd be damned if you didn't see it through. You were stubborn like that. “If you'd, er, like to go to dinner... with me. Like... as a date.”
You could feel the heat rushing up to your cheeks yet again as he seemed to look you over – was he trying to figure out the best way to let you down? “I was hoping you'd ask me out, honestly,” he said and he actually sounded relieved to your great surprise. “I mean, I have a total lack of game so I was worried if I asked you out, I'd freak you out and you'd... not want to go out with me.”
It was like your brain short circuited. For once, you were left at a total loss of what to say. If there had been one thing you'd been good at for the past six years, it was figuring out how to say something. But now there was no wit to respond to the idea that a very cute Broadway star who wrote the most insane, genius thing you'd ever heard wanted to ask you out. “Oh,” was your brilliant response. “So... that's a yes?”
It seemed to dawn on him he never gave a yes or no answer to a yes or no question. “Oh! Yes, it's definitely a yes,” he said, causing you to smile slightly as his blush. “However, can I make a request?”
“Cool,” you managed to get out. “Yeah, of course.”
“Can it be breakfast instead? An early one, at that? My nights have gotten a little hit or miss on availability.”
Breakfast. Non traditional. “That would be nice, actually. I just got a new phone... if you'd like the number to help me break it in.”
His grin was more than encouraging. “Absolutely,” he said. “And I hate to go and kick you out after getting your number, but your aunt and Pippa will kill me if I let you see the previews before opening night so...”
Suddenly nothing in your backpack was right for the date. Everything was too casual or too formal and you suddenly needed to get a new outfit specifically for this date. The five hundred packed in the letter went straight to the new outfit. A simple dress and white converse to match – something that said “I just threw this old thing on”. At least, that's what you hoped it said. You weren't the kind of person who woke up at 4:30 am for breakfast, but it turned out Lin's schedule was as crazy hectic as Pippa's (you rarely saw her at the apartment anymore) so you would have to make some sacrifices to your sleep schedule to keep the date.
Monday was going to be exhausting for you, you could already tell as you pushed yourself out of bed and pulled the new yellow dress that complimented your skin tone nicely over your head with a big yawn. You didn't want to fuss too much – it was a ponytail and tinted moisturizer with the butter gloss from NYX in vanilla cream pie kind of date you decided. Something that made it seem like you naturally woke up beautiful with little effort.
The last date you had been on when you were on had been three years ago and went horribly when you had told the guy you didn't plan on sleeping with him. Which was at the front of your mind in worry. You were certain that Lin wasn't that kind of guy but it was still a worry. A bridge you'd cross when you get there, you decided. Besides, when you arrived at the diner and saw him you felt like your heart stopped. His shoulder length hair was up in a bun and he'd already ordered some coffee, it would seem. You slide into the other side of the booth with a bright grin. “So... hi there.”
Lin grinned upon seeing you and there it was again – your heart stuttering in instant reaction to him. All of a sudden you wondered how it was even possible he was on a date with you of all people in the world. Sure, you'd asked him out but it just didn't seem like he should have agreed to begin with. “Hi,” he said and you realized you'd missed his voice already. “So. I've been thinking about that thesis of yours.”
“Oh,” you said, a bit surprised. He was thinking about you? A Broadway star thought about you? “What were you thinking about my thesis?”
“I was thinking that you've got to let me read it,” he said, leaning forward towards you with his eyebrow quirked up. “Since Hamilton and In The Heights both revolved around representing communities of color, it'd be interesting to hear your own views on representation in media.”
“Well, they've grown a bit more refined since college,” you said with a light grin, the two of you ordering a crazy amount of food that you were certain neither of you would ever be able to finish. Which mean that at least you weren't going to be hungry for a while. “But I suppose I could let you read the baseline thoughts on the subject. Though that's just the first dissertation, actually. I had to write two. The first was for a media studies class, the second was for my creative writing class.”
“Oh, so you write too?”
You nodded, taking a sip of the coffee before slightly gagging – it was a bit strong so you poured nine packets of sugar and five creams into your coffee. “Yeah, but nothing like you do. It's just... for fun, really. I was more trying to do script doctoring back home. Or some other kind of editing job, actually. It's easier to criticize than write.”
He laughed. “Easier to criticize than write,” he repeated with a slight grin. “I'm going to use that as a retort next time someone criticizes my writing. So what was the dissertation for your creative writing class?”
“It's a great line... granted there's a lot of great lines I come up with,” you said and realizing that the sleep deprivation was definitely helping with the confidence. You supposed anything that helped you feel more on his level would help you out. “Uh, the creative writing dissertation was actually... about the world building of Harry Potter. Please, please don't laugh at what a nerd I am!”
To your great surprise, his eyes light up and his grin seemed to grow even bigger if that was even possible. “You're joking,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “Just when I couldn't think you'd get anymore amazing, you wrote a dissertation on the world building of Harry Potter! That's... that's literally the coolest anything anyone has ever done! You have to let me read that one too.”
And with that, the conversation flowed all the more easier. From the minute he geeked out over you writing a dissertation about Harry Potter, all reservations you could have possibly had melted away. He was a geek in the best possible way. Which made it easier to dive into conversations about Doctor Who, Buffy, and various bits of literature that had been required in various classes. He mentioned that he went to Wesleyan, telling you all about how it was a university in New York City. He mentioned that he grew up in New York City and how his first musical had been based off his home neighborhood of Washington Heights.
The more the two of you talked, the more time got away from the both of you. It seemed like only ten minutes had passed since the two of you got to the dinner but before long his phone was ringing. His eyes went wide as he noticed the time as well. “Shit, that's Lac,” he said as he hit answer on the phone. “Yes, I know. Time got away from me, I'm already on my way.” He hung up without letting Alex get another word in. “I'm... so sorry, I have to go.”
Lin waved the waitress over to settle the check. “It's okay,” you said even though you really wished he could stay longer. “I mean, you are starring in a big Broadway show so you're probably in high demand. It was... nice. This was very nice.”
He grinned at you. “Maybe we could do it again sometime,” he said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. You were too stunned to respond. “I'll text you later.”
#lin manuel x reader#reader x lin manuel miranda#reader x lmm#lin manuel imagine#lmm x reader#13envelopes#mywriting#it's shorter than last time#but still pretty decently long i guess#but anyway#congrats i guess#love y'all#enjoy like it whatever you wanna do#glad we're at part iv
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35. “Dislocated”
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(from an ancient prompt list, takes place after “Gruff Around the Edges”)
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Hiccup heard the pained moaning almost before he got to the door of the Twins’ hut. He sighed in relief that they were at least back; the pair of them had all but disappeared after snatching their cousin to safety. He’d like to say he’d have done the same, but based on what Ruff told him about how Gruff always treated her brother . . .
The brunet shook his head, and lightly tapped on the door. Almost immediately, it was flung open by an exasperated Ruffnut.
“Oh, good. It’s you.” Without further ado, she grabbed Hiccup’s arm and bodily pulled him into their living space, letting the door fall shut behind. He gave a startled yelp, but Ruff ignored it, shoving him toward a mess of crates, nets and rope that was apparently one Tuffnut Thorston’s bed.
The male twin’s back was to both of them and he was curled on his side, making pitiful noises. Hiccup’s heart rate increased in concern as he approached, able to see multiple bruises. That had been a pretty vicious fight. Feeling awkward and out of his depth, he reached out to gently touch his friend’s shoulder. “Uh, hey, Tuff. What’s wrong?”
A whimper and Tuffnut’s good arm raised up, gesturing to his body. Hiccup sighed fondly. “Tuff, you just gestured to all of you. Come on now, where does it hurt?”
When her brother didn’t answer, Ruffnut threw back her head and groaned.
“His hip is still dislocated from being tied up in a cave, by guess who – and running into the wall a million times to get out of his ropes. Don’t know who told him that would work, but they’ve got a date with my fists.” She punched her palm for emphasis. “I managed to get his shoulder in, but now he’s being a total baby and not letting me do the rest.”
As frustrated as her tone was, Hiccup could hear the underlying worry in it. “You guys should have flown to Berk to see Gothi.”
She threw her hands in the air, turning to face Hiccup. “Wow! Brilliant! Why didn’t I think of such a great idea? Oh right, because it isn’t one! Have you ever flown to Berk for several hours with a dislocated hip?! I didn’t think so!”
Sometimes Hiccup deeply regretted being so sassy in his younger years. It had definitely been a bad influence on the twins. Oh well, imitation was the sincerest form of flattery . . .
“Fair enough. Well, let’s see how bad it is.”
With some help from Ruff, they got Tuff’s vest, tunic, and leggings off, despite the boy’s occasional noises of distress. His modesty was left intact by a loincloth, but nonetheless he trembled and kept his face hidden. Hiccup ran his hands over Tuffnut’s ribs, then felt up along his collarbone. Ruff hadn’t done a bad job with his shoulder, but Hiccup winced when he felt out Tuff’s hip. A gentle prodding revealed that the muscles were stiff and hot with swelling – which was not good.
There wasn’t any time to fly him to Gothi – Tuff’s joints and ligaments could be permanently damaged if this wasn’t tended to within a couple hours. He’d never walk the same again. “Tuff, how the Thor did you manage to fight Gruff so well, while in this much pain?”
Ruff answered for him. “Technically, you can kick someone’s butt with a broken leg if you’re mad enough. Lucky for me and our dragon, Tuff was pretty mad.”
“Oh, I bet he was, and he probably made things worse by moving around so much . . .” Hiccup bit his lip; if he’d known, he never would have taken Tuffnut with him. Toothless could’ve just snatched him out of Belch’s saddle and it would have been over with.
“Yeah, and by not letting me fix it as soon as we took care of our ‘heroic’ cousin,” Ruff grumbled, folding her arms and scowling at her twin’s back.
Tuffnut didn’t even bother to reply to that, still hiding his face under his arm and breath starting to hitch. Hiccup frowned reproachfully at Ruff as he heard the low sobs that Tuff couldn’t seem to stifle. Looking subdued, she sat down on the bed beside him. “Too harsh? Sorry.”
“N-No,” Tuff managed. “You were right, sister. I didn’t listen. Honestly, don’t bother fixing me at all. The constant pain will serve as a reminder to never trust that jerk again.” Hiccup sighed softly and rolled his eyes. Of course his friend would be melodramatic over this – it was Tuff.
“I mean, no matter what else Gruff’s done to me over the years, I’ve always completely forgiven him by the time he shows up again, right? Guess that really does make me the s-stupid twin.” Tuffnut reached up to wipe his streaming eyes, and then started to cry in earnest – the kind that couldn’t easily be stopped.
Hiccup felt his chest grow tight, wishing he’d gotten a few punches in on Gruffnut while he’d had the opportunity.
“Aw, bro, you’re not stupid,” Ruff sighed, pressing her forehead against his arm. “Just . . . trusting. You give people too many second chances and they walk all over you.”
“Is-Isn’t that the same as being stupid?” Tuff hitched, wiping his eyes.
“Of course it isn’t.” Hiccup walked around the bed to face him. “It means you’re capable of forgiveness. That’s not always a bad thing; it’s . . .” He struggled to find the words. “If anything, it just makes us all that much angrier at Gruffnut.”
“Yeah, bro. Whenever people take advantage of you or hurt you this bad, you gotta start letting us kill them,” Ruffnut soothed him, gently ruffling Tuff’s hair. Hiccup felt himself nodding, then startled.
“What? No –! I mean, we’re not killing anyone-“
“Oh, relax. I’m talkin’ collateral damage. Accidents do happen, my dear Hiccup,” She batted her eyelashes, in a parody of innocence.
Hiccup groaned, knowing she was mocking Viggo’s constant pet name for him. Right now, it was more vexing than funny.
“You know what, I’m not even gonna respond to that. Listen, Tuffnut, let’s get your hip back in so you can get some sleep. You’ve got your early morning show to do, right?”
Tuff nodded, not seeming too excited by the prospect. He let Hiccup and his sister arrange him on the bed so he was flat on his back. Carefully slow, Hiccup moved Tuff’s leg up, bending at the knee, and keeping a hand on the opposite hip to press his pelvis flat. He started to apply lateral force to the inside of Tuff’s thigh, pushing it open.
It was easy to do from the other side, but Tuff let out a wail of pain and tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down by his twin. “Yeah, I know. Allis’s Manuever wouldn’t have been my first choice either. Far too slow, and thus excruciating.”
“Wait, you know how to do this?”
“Duh. I was figuring you’d hold him down and I’d pop it back in. Hard and fast, that’s the way Ma always taught us.”
Shrugging in defeat, Hiccup switched places with her. Tuff immediately put his arms around the brunet’s neck, looking up at him with a breathless pleading whine. There were still bright tears in his eyes and he was shivering hard. “H . . . please . . .”
Hiccup hugged him, letting Tuff bury his face in his shoulder.
Ruff was indeed fast; there was a ‘clunk’ and Tuff tensed in his arms and screamed. He trailed off into sobs and allowed himself to be moved back on his uninjured side, refusing to let go of Hiccup.
“I – okay, hold on . . .” Hiccup quickly adjusted to lay down facing Tuff. His friend had an iron grip on him, and didn’t lift his head, desperately nuzzling Hiccup’s already soaked shirt. He looked at Ruff for help.
She did help, technically, by putting a blanket over the both of them, and neatly tucking them in. Hiccup glared. “Thanks,” he said, flatly.
“You’re welcome.” Ruff smirked and laid down to join the pile, spooning her twin and creating a ‘Thorston Sandwich’ that would likely last throughout the night. Well, Hiccup supposed he’d slept in worse places. Toothless would have to figure it out and either sleep here or stay at the forge.
He absently stroked Tuff’s hair, not finding it in his heart to be angry. In the twin’s defense, dislocated hips were said to be one of the most painful things a person could go through. Men twice Tuff’s size were usually sedated before Gothi did the job.
The gentle caressing worked somewhat; Tuffnut eventually lifted his tearstained face from Hiccup’s shoulder and loosened his hold as he relaxed. “You smell like leather and sweat,” he said weakly. “In a good way.”
“Uh. Thank you, Tuff. So, are you going to do your morning show tomorrow?”
“I guess . . . do you actually like it?”
“Sure, I think it’s a fun way to wake up. I was asking because you might need a little help getting up the ladder to the Thunder Ear,” Hiccup offered. Tuffnut nodded, looking a bit unsure and embarrassed. “You could always just say I’m a guest.”
Over Tuff’s shoulder, Ruffnut gave Hiccup a gratefully warm smile.
“Huh. I guess . . . you don’t mind, even if it’s totally not the truth?” Tuff asked.
“Come on, Tuff, what are best friends for?”
Tuffnut looked like he might cry again, and hugged Hiccup tightly. He chuckled and hugged Tuff back.
“Awww,” Ruff cooed.
It wasn’t long before all three of them fell asleep.
- END
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You’re Staring
by Inspector Boxer
Fandom: Supergirl
Pairing: Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer
Rating: T
Author’s Note: This is a prompt fill for an anon and @detectivdimples who asked for prompt #49, "You're staring."
Thanks as always to @zennie-fic for looking this over. If you haven’t read her Sanvers fics you’re missing out. :)
****
Maggie knew Alex Danvers was a badass. That had been well-established. Her level of badassery, however, had just soared to new heights.
“You’re staring,” Alex said casually, clearly confused by Maggie gaping at her from across the booth at the bar. “You asked me what’s the craziest thing I’ve ever done at the DEO. That’s it.”
“You just casually mentioned that you flew a spaceship. Into outer space.”
Alex hesitated, tracing the lip of her beer mug. “Technically. I didn’t really go that far past Earth’s orbit.”
Maggie’s mind boggled. Dates with Alex Danvers were never boring. She leaned forward so she wouldn’t have to talk as loud over the music thrumming out of the jukebox by the door. “I didn’t even know you knew how to fly.”
“I don’t… exactly. It’s not like I have a license.” Alex smiled the tiniest bit, faintly amused with Maggie’s shock and disbelief over her reveal. “But someone had to go, and I knew the pod as well as anyone. It was kinda like a big video game, honestly. A very realistic one.”
“You flew a spaceship… into space,” Maggie said again, because that sort of thing bore repeating.
“I did what I had to do to save Supergirl.” Alex shrugged like it was no big deal.
While Alex’s friendship with the superhero bothered Maggie at times, their devotion to each other was also sweet, although a bit of a mystery.
“Looking back, it was kinda reckless, but it worked.”
“Kinda?” Maggie blurted. She shook her head. “Jesus, Danvers. You know if you shared that story with the rest of the bar half the people in here wouldn’t believe you and the other half would want to go home with you.”
Alex flushed, gathering up the peanut shells on the table and sweeping them into a neat, tidy pile.
“Scratch that. The half that didn’t believe you would still want to go home with you,” Maggie added, smirking at her girlfriend.
“Stop it,” Alex huffed, but she seemed shyly pleased by Maggie’s teasing.
It made Maggie wonder sometimes. Alex was brilliant, kind, and beautiful. Praise should not be so foreign to her that she soaked up every scrap of it like a sponge, but Maggie found that was often the case. She was curious to know why, but part of her was reluctant to push for answers, suspecting the topic would make Alex uncomfortable. Instead, she settled for giving Alex all the compliments she deserved.
“So let’s talk about you. Craziest case as a cop.” Alex tried to turn the tables, but Maggie wasn’t done yet.
“Uh-huh. I want to know what it was like.”
“What what was like?”
“Going into space! Were you weightless? What was the launch like? And how did you get Supergirl back to Earth? Did she hold on for the ride or something?”
Alex snorted faintly at that image. “The ship was actually the pod Supergirl came to Earth in. We keep it at another branch of the DEO.”
“You have a lot of those?”
“More than you’ll ever know.” Alex winked at her. “It’s small. About the length of…” She searched the room for something comparable and gestured toward the bar, spotting Mon-El serving drinks and chatting up a small cluster of women. She frowned at him. “Not much bigger than the bar really.”
“But aren’t all the controls in Kryptonian? Kryptonese? Whatever you call it?”
Alex nodded. “I can’t speak it worth a damn, but I’ve learned some of it in written form.”
“Course you have. I bet you know Klingon, too.”
“I’m feeling mocked,” Alex murmured, a sparkle in her eyes. She flicked one of the discarded shells in Maggie’s direction.
“Nerd.”
Alex leaned forward now. “Why do I have a feeling, Detective, that if I said something to you in Klingon, you could answer me?”
Maggie stared at her. “Because you’re a very perceptive woman.” The satisfied smile Alex threw her made Maggie bite her lip. They hadn’t been intimate yet, although they’d come close once or twice. She was looking forward to putting that smile on Alex’s face more often.
“The launch was fine,” Alex continued. “The thing flies smooth as glass. Getting through the atmosphere sucked, though. It got bouncy as hell.”
“Were you scared?” Maggie asked, a little more seriously.
Alex dropped her gaze, her finger playing in the ring of condensation left over from her first beer. “Not for me. I was so focused on K… on Supergirl, I didn’t even think about my own life.”
Maggie wondered about the near slip, but decide to let it go. They were having a good time, and she wanted to keep it that way. It was best to keep her suspicions to herself for now, but she started to consider Alex’s experience from a different angle. “And what did Supergirl do when she saw you?”
Swallowing, Alex shivered unexpectedly. “She didn’t do anything. She was just… floating there. I thought…”
The mood at the table shifted. Maggie felt it happen like a physical thing. She dipped her head, catching Alex’s eye and wordlessly encouraging her to continue.
“I thought she was dead.” Alex held her gaze, her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears. “That I was too late.”
“Obviously, you weren’t,” Maggie said gently.
Alex shrugged. “It worked out.”
“But how did you get her back to Earth? Did you have to open up the pod and grab her like some kind of wayward satellite?”
Nose scrunching at the distasteful memory, Alex shook her head. “There was only room in the pod for one, and if I had opened it, we would have both died.”
Maggie blinked, realizing the only course Alex must have had available to her. “You didn’t.”
“What else could I do?” Alex asked. “She’s Supergirl. I knew she could physically withstand re-entry.”
“You pushed Supergirl into the atmosphere with her pod?” Maggie waited until Alex nodded, abashed, in confirmation. “So your pod was a cue stick and Supergirl was the cue ball?”
“That is a tacky way of putting it.” Alex laughed.
“Did you make your shot?” Maggie kept up the analogy. “Where’d you sink her?”
Alex started laughing harder, and her dark memories of the rescue seemed to dissipate. “That is so wrong.”
“Seriously. Where’d she come down?”
Clearing her throat, Alex bit her lip. “South Dakota. She took out some farmer’s tractor. Thankfully he wasn’t in it, but the DEO had to buy him a new one.”
Maggie brought her fist to her lips, trying not to laugh and failing miserably.
“She pulverized that John Deere, let me tell you.” Alex chuckled slightly. “Pieces of that thing probably wound up two states over.”
Shaking her head, Maggie smiled. “You live an interesting life, Danvers.”
“Yeah,” Alex admitted. “It’s gotten a lot more interesting lately.” She stared at Maggie, continuing to smile.
Warming under Alex’s gaze, Maggie dipped her head, blushing softly. No one ever made her blush like Alex did. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she liked it. “Supergirl was all right, I take it?”
“She slept for a day or so, but she woke up no worse for wear.”
“And how did you get back?”
“Set the pod on autopilot.” Alex shrugged again when Maggie chuckled. “I’d had enough excitement for one day.” She slipped her phone out of her back pocket and unlocked it. For a moment, Maggie worried she’d been summoned to work, but then Alex turned her phone around. “I did take one picture on my way back in.”
Swallowing hard, Maggie took the phone, staring at the curve of the Earth through the windshield of the pod. The first licks of fire from re-entry were visible along the edge, but the beauty of the planet was breathtaking. She looked up at Alex, allowing her awe for this woman to shine through. “I think I would have peed my pants, honestly.”
Alex laughed again, and Maggie cherished the sound as she handed the phone back over. “Doubtful,” Alex muttered. “Nothing scares you.”
“You do,” Maggie admitted. “But in a very good way.”
Alex stared at her a moment in disbelief, but then her smile softened in surprise and wonder, and Maggie mentally patted herself on the back for making her reluctant astronaut girlfriend smile like a lovesick fool. She suspected the smile on her own features was a mirror image.
“So going into space was the craziest thing you’ve done. What comes second? I want Alex Danvers’ top ten DEO adventures.”
Rolling her eyes, Alex took a sip of her beer. “Not even sure where to start. A lot of those ‘adventures’ are classified, and some of them honestly sucked.”
“Then tell me something else badass you’ve done.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s hot.” Maggie leaned back in the booth and took a sip of her warming beer.
Alex blushed again, but she held Maggie’s gaze. “Okay,” she drawled. “Did I ever tell you I taught Supergirl how to fight?”
The image that thought put in Maggie’s head was blistering. She swallowed, taking a gulp of her beer which did nothing to cool her off. “And how’d you manage to do that?”
“That’s a secret, but I wiped the floor with her quite a bit before she started to figure it out.” Alex grinned affectionately. “She can hold her own now. Even gets the better of me from time to time.”
“You sound proud.”
“I am. I told her I’d teach her to be better than me.”
Maggie gazed at her, enthralled.
“You’re staring,” Alex said again, but this time her smile was knowing.
“Get used to it,” Maggie answered. “Just trying to process how amazing you are.”
Alex fiddled with the peanut shells again. “So… the space story…” She took a breath. “Which half of the bar would you fall into? You don’t believe me or you want to come home with me?”
Maggie’s heart rate ticked up noticeably. “Why do you ask?” Her voice came out husky and hopeful.
Alex stood, tossing enough cash onto the table to cover their tab and a tip. “Thought maybe we could continue this topic elsewhere.”
“Yeah?” Maggie asked, hoping she wasn’t reading the look in Alex’s eyes wrong.
“I can tell you more about my adventures,” Alex promised. “Or maybe we could have a little adventure of our own.”
Maggie drained her beer and slipped out of the booth. “Never made out with an astronaut before,” she teased.
Alex narrowed her eyes before her fingers unexpectedly hooked on Maggie’s belt buckle. She yanked Maggie closer for a swift, hard kiss. “Then tonight’s your lucky night.”
“That’s every night with you, Alex,” Maggie promised her, sliding an arm around Alex’s waist and leading her toward the door.
“Something tells me you’re going to be my best adventure yet,” Alex murmured.
Maggie grinned. She was planning on it.
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