#also... someone on here mentioned how matt pretending to be able to see is so much fun to watch

[anna-hawk]

S3 Matt Murdock deserves a slap and a hug... But gotta admit that he's also *chef's kiss* delicious.

[chvoswxtch]

Hi! I’m really sorry to keep requesting this but could you write about blackwidow!reader being on a mission to kill Matt/Daredevil and that she ends up getting close to him just because of the mission but it could possibly end with a happy ending?

please never apologize for a request! you have no idea how beyond flattered I am that you come to me with your ideas & trust me to bring them to life. I am having so much fun with all of these matt x black widow reader requests, so thank you! ❤️

warning: some swearing, slight mentions of violence word count: 2.2k

we can do this together.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to hesitate. You were never allowed to question a mission. And up until now, you never had. But he made you question everything.

“You don’t have to do this. I know you don’t want to.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know everything about you. You lied about a few things, yeah, but nothing that mattered. Everything else you told me was real. Listen-“

“Don’t move.”

You aimed your gun directly at Matt’s chest, pausing his ascension forward. He quickly brought his hands up in surrender, the sides of his mouth turned downwards in a slight grimace. 

“Y/N, you’re not gonna shoot me.”

Even though half of his face was covered, you could see the betrayal written on his features clear as day beneath the glowing moonlight. You could practically envision the hurt permeating his golden honey eyes, and that image in your head punctured your heart like a jagged, rusty blade. The effect of your treachery was evident in his voice, but you had to remind yourself why you were here. You cocked the hammer of your gun as you clenched your jaw, noting the way his lips parted slightly in response to take in a breath.

“No?”

At this point you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince more; him or yourself. 

Your grip on the handle tightened as you struggled to compose yourself. 

He’s just another mission. You’ve done this a thousand times. Just pull the trigger.

Matt swallowed thickly as he took a cautious step forward, shaking his head slowly as he spoke.

“No, you won’t. You won’t hurt me.”

You fired a warning shot by his foot, causing him to freeze immediately. He turned his head away from the sound of the bullet ricocheting off the concrete of the rooftop, wincing as the sound pierced his sensitive ears. Matt’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, letting a frustrated sigh escape his mouth as he focused his head in your direction. The disappointment was practically radiating off of him, and it made you sick to your stomach. 

“Stop pretending like you know me. You only know the version of me I wanted you to see. Manipulation and deception are our greatest strengths, Matthew. It’s how we bring down empires.”

Matt scoffed as he let out a humorless laugh, instantly dropping his hands by his sides and clutching them into tight fists as he shook his head defiantly and took another bold step forward. 

“No.”

Goddamnit Matthew, stop. Quit being so fucking stubborn.

“It’s not up for debate.”

Deep down you wanted him to run. He was quick and stealthy, you knew that. He could disappear before you even had a chance to track him. That would give you more time. To do what, you weren’t sure. Delay the inevitable? Hope they pulled you off this task and assigned someone else? Runaway yourself?

But Matt wasn’t a runner. He was just as combative outside of the courtroom as he was in it. There was no changing his mind once it had already been made up, he was too tenacious.

“It’s bullshit. I know when you’re lying. I can tell by your heartbeat. You can lie to everyone else, but you can’t lie to me.”

Matt’s confession stunned you completely. He was blind, you knew that for a fact. But he was also the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. You hadn’t quite figured out how he was able to do the things he did, but it wasn’t important to your assignment, so you weren’t allowed to test your curiosity. Get in, get what you need, eliminate the threat, and get out. Those were the rules.

None of this matters. He’s a mission. Just complete it. 

Sensing a falter in your facade, Matt took another cautious step forward, and you reflexively aimed your gun directly towards his face. You never had an issue completing an assignment before. Every target you were assigned to take out was a threat. It never bothered you before, because each of them had things far worse than skeletons in their closets. Some of them had committed sins you didn’t think any God could forgive. The world was better off without them. 

Why was this time so hard?

Because it was Matt. Matthew Murdock that let his clients repay him in banana bread for helping them get justice. Matthew Murdock that gave his literal blood, sweat, and tears every night for a city that would never thank him or even know his real name. 

Because it was Matt that stopped by your apartment randomly and asked you to accompany him to do mundane tasks like go grocery shopping, or claiming he needed feedback on his closing argument with an elaborate ruse. He always had an excuse, but it was simply because he knew you didn’t have any family either, and sometimes felt just as alone as he did. It was Matt that remembered how much you loved pickles and always offered you his even if he wanted them. It was Matt that walked you home every time you went to Josie’s, even though you lived 2 blocks away, because he wanted to make sure you made it home safe. 

Because it was Matt, and he wasn’t really the threat; Daredevil was. Because Daredevil was dangerous. Because he was too good at what he did, and was getting too close. Your other targets were more competition than threats. But him? He was a threat. They had every right to be terrified of him. They should be.

The only advantage you had at the moment was that you hadn’t reported that you figured out Daredevil’s identity. They didn’t know about Matt. But if you were able to figure it out, you knew another widow could too. Matt was only safe the longer you dragged out this assignment, and you were running out of time.

“Sweetheart-“

“Don’t.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to focus. It felt like you were spiraling in a haunting kaleidoscope of guilt and fear, anxious as to where you would land. You were fighting against every single code of your programming. Everything you were trained to do. Everything you were molded to be. Matt had unlocked something in you, and you were struggling to keep it contained.

“Put the gun down.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Just-“

“You don’t understand.”

You didn’t even try to mask the vulnerability in your voice. Part of you knew Matt was right. Your mission was to get close to him, but either consciously or subconsciously, you’d also let him get close to you. You had told him things, real things, that no one else knew. You tried to convince yourself that it was to draw him in closer, to make him trust you so you could take advantage of him. But the more you were around him, the truth became harder to deny. Matt Murdock was like gravity. You were drawn to him, like everyone else around him, and he grounded you into a space that felt secure. 

“Then help me understand. Please, sweetheart.”

“I can’t just walk away. One of us isn’t leaving this roof alive.”

“I don’t believe that. I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t fight you.”

“Then you’ll die.”

Matt charged forward until the barrel of your gun was pressed directly against his sternum. The action surprised you and caused you to stumble backwards, but Matt gripped onto your wrist and forced you to keep the gun in place. The way his chest was heaving had your hand almost shaking, and you grit your teeth in annoyance at his persistence. 

“Then shoot me.”

“Goddamnit, Matthew. I’m not what you think I am.”

“I know you’re not what they made you.”

Your fingers trembled slightly around the handle of the gun. Emotions were something you were trained to let go of. They were never supposed to get in the way or compromise a mission. But a piece of you refused to accept the truth that was gnawing at the pit of your stomach; you couldn’t pull the trigger. You knew that. He knew that.

“I can’t walk away. You don’t…you have no idea what…what they’ll do to me.”

A shudder raced down your spine at the thought. You knew what happened to widows that couldn’t complete a mission. They were tortured if they were compromised, and only granted the mercy of death when their body finally gave out. A low growl ripped through Matt’s chest as he tore the gun out of your hands, throwing it behind him as he grabbed onto the back of your neck with his other and pulled you flush into his chest.

“They are not going to touch you ever again.”

“Matt-“

“You are not what they made you.”

“Stop trying to save me. You don’t know what I’ve done-“

“I don’t care.”

“You should-“

“Whatever you did, it was against your will. They didn’t give you a choice. But you have one now, Y/N.”

You didn’t deserve his forgiveness. You didn’t deserve his understanding. Whatever light he saw in you had to just be a reflection of his own. Why did he have to be so good? Matt had found a loose thread in your being, unraveling everything you thought was real, and had you now completely wrapped around him. Ever the good Catholic boy, here he was still trying to save you, even when you had pointed a gun in his face and threatened his life. 

Matt quickly pulled off his helmet, tossing it carelessly to the side as he cupped your jaw delicately in his gloved hands like you might shatter any second. The anguish shadowing his beautiful face made you wish he had kept the fucking thing on. You couldn’t handle the look in his eyes.

“Come with me. Let me help.”

“You can’t-“

“I can. I can help. I have friends that will help. We can take them down together, sweetheart. You don’t have to be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. No one is ever going to hurt you again. We can do this together.”

Matt pressed his forehead to yours, reaching for one of your hands to hold against his chest. He gave your wrist a light squeeze, gently nudging your nose with his own.

“I know you, honey. I’ve heard your heart, and I can feel your soul. Please come with me.”

“Matt…if anything happened to you-“

“Nothing is going to happen to me. Nothing is going to happen to you. We can protect each other. We can do this, sweetheart. I know we can. But I need you to trust me.”

Something about Matthew Murdock made you feel like you knew who you were outside of the Red Room. Who you really wanted to be. You’d felt the spark the first time you met; something pure and light like you’d never felt before. Every second you spent with him, you felt like pieces of you were being healed, so much so that you hadn’t even realized some parts weren’t broken anymore until you noticed they stopped hurting.

There had to be something good still left in you. If Matt believed you could find redemption, it had to be true. He was the first person you felt like you could actually trust, and that was terrifying. But despite everything, the heartbreaking truth he had learned about you, the revelation of lies and deceit, he was still here. He was offering you his forgiveness, and his hand, but more than that, he was offering you something you hadn’t felt in a lifetime; hope. 

“I…I don’t know how this works, Matt.”

“We figure it out together, one step at a time.”

“I don’t think I’m worth all this trouble.”

“I do.”

Matt’s face had softened as he pulled back slightly, blank eyes darting back and forth as they burned with recognition. There was a melancholic smile tugging at the corner of his mouth while he nodded his chin in your direction. 

“I know that darkness you feel. I know you think there’s something inside of you that can’t be fixed. And…maybe it can’t. But I do know that you and I are a lot more alike than you think. Our broken pieces…they fit, Y/N. I think you feel that too. We fit together, sweetheart. We can do this. We can take them all down, together.”

It was hard to argue with the confidence and conviction in Matt’s voice. You could feel his own heart beating strongly against your palm through his suit. It hadn’t faltered once. You couldn’t tell if it was because he really believed that, or if he refused to believe anything else.

This decision would alter your life forever. There would never be any going back, and it was quite literally life or death. But you had never been more sure of anything in your life. 

“Where do we start?”

Matt let out a deep exhale of relief, his entire body visibly relaxing as your words hit his ears. His mouth parted into that dazzling smile that made you dizzy, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and leaning in to carefully brush his lips against yours.

“How about dinner?”

[okimargarvez]

ABOUT TIME

Original title: About time

Prompt: what if after 16x9.

Warning: spoiler for 16x9.

Genre: romantic, angst.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, (Tyler Green, Tara Lewis mentioned).

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 87 in Garvez collection. 

Legend: 💏😘. Song mentioned: E ti vengo a cercare, Tiziano Ferro (Franco Battiato).

GARVEZ STORIES

ABOUT TIME

I should change the object of my desires, not settle for small daily joys

I'm standing outside the hospital where Tyler Green has spent the past two weeks, teetering between life and death. But today something finally moves. We took Sicarius and saved Rossi.

I know perfectly well that I shouldn't be here, that I'm making yet another mistake, but my feet, my heart, my mind... Everything led me here, to her. As soon as we were sure Dave was safe, she ran to Tyler. Just because she felt she owed him, so she told JJ. That she would have closed, or at least stopped their contact, certainly for the time of the trial. And about after... Who knows.

The thought of them not being able to be together didn't make me feel any better. I don't think I have a chance, but if I did, I would never want to be picked because my rival isn't available. Winning because the opponents have all withdrawn. No, I would like Penelope to choose me because she wants me, she loves me. But the thing is, she's falling in love with someone else and that has changed her. I can't say for the better, although she has always been a goddess to me.

But she is no longer the same woman I fell for. The fault, if any, is not only Green's, but also the pandemic. In those three years after our one date, we saw very little. When the world seemed to go back to normality, we started dating a little more... but only for Sergio. And so, I found out I'm allergic to cat dander. Would it ever stop me to start a lifetime with her? Rhetorical question, since antihistamines exist and even if they didn't… no.

It's really absurd, how many times have I fantasized about her coming to my house, to keep Roxy company, maybe while we were out on a case? And I came home and found them hugging each other, asleep on the sofa. Undecided whether to wake her up or stay to contemplate her all night, until the last moment, before the sun made its appearance. And sometimes I would go further, dreaming of her eyelids lifting, a few seconds to focus on my face, an embarrassed smile that suddenly turned malicious, as she placed both hands on my neck, dragging me down, me happy to please her.

But I don't even know what her lips taste like, and I can be sure that I will never find out. Perhaps I should have been more proactive enterprising during our date. Not in words, but in gestures. I should have kissed her right under her house when I picked her up. Make it clear how things were, what was at stake on my part. Instead of letting things go, and pretending that I was okay with hearing her imagine meeting her soul mate, who knows when, who knows where.

I don't know if it's Tyler and if she's already thought that. I can only speak for myself. And as far as I'm concerned, I should have told her explicitly that there was no point in looking for my twin soul, because I had already found the right person and right at that moment she was in front of my nose. And it will stay that way, no matter what. In these three years I have never even made an attempt with another woman, although I have had some opportunities. But for what? To treat her like Lisa? No, better to be alone.

It hurts to see how strong JJ and Will's love is, I don't mean I'd rather think them apart, I'm not at that level. But that's exactly what I want, what I feel is missing in my life. What Tara and Matt, with whom I'm in constant contact, didn't understand (given the amount of people who tried to get me to know) is that I don't miss a woman by my side. But one in particular. And it's her or nobody.

A few days ago I had the umpteenth proof of it. If I haven't stopped loving her while she's been telling me unwanted details about her sex life with Tyler, when will that happen? I no longer hope for it, on the contrary, what am I saying, liar! I never believed it. I never even wanted to. No, I like to wallow in my grief, complain to Roxy about how unfortunate I am. Poor Luke. Too bad the only one I would like to console me is always… her. Penelope Garcia.

And it wasn't just for cowardice that I didn't venture further three years ago. No, it was because I can't lose her at all. Even as a friend, or whatever role she puts me in. I can't imagine my life without her, it takes my breath away just thinking about it. Yet despite all my efforts, despite all the bitter pills I've swallowed, I'm still losing her. She stopped responding to me, flirting with me, snapping back, which is kind of the same thing. She said, in that restaurant, that she finds hard to talk to me without using the provocation filter. And it’s half bullshit, because in these seven years we have had several profound conversations, I was the first one she told about her stalker. Maybe I'm still the only one, knowing her...

But that's the problem. I don't recognize her anymore. The Penelope I love is the one who was super nice to Lisa, despite the embarrassing situation (because even then a little cloud with all the unsaid was hovering between us). The one who always worried about her absence, partly because she loved her, directly to her, partly because, I'm sure, she thought about how it could reflect on me. Current Penelope, on the other hand, didn't give a damn when I tried to tell her to stop talking about her and Tyler; she ignored my pleading tone, my watery eyes, whatever. I didn't think she could ever be that selfish.

She killed me. And that hasn't changed anything, in what I feel. It hasn't wavered my love for her even for a second. It is always there, that proudly stands as one of the 300 before facing the Persians. Like I know I will still love her when she gives in and accepts Tyler's proposal, and I will try to endlessly dilate the one dance she'll allow me, during their wedding.

How much bullshit can be processed in a few minutes outside a hospital. Actually, it must have been at least half an hour and I can't figure out why the heck I haven't entered yet. What's the point of staying here? I should go home. Both Simmons and Tara would recommend it to me. I had the opportunity to really let off steam and I threw it away. I told Dr Lewis everything but being careful to avoid every detail that could give a face to the mysterious woman who had stolen (and broken) my heart. She probably understood, since she's not just a profiler… but maybe not, because her condition wasn't the usual one. Even her heart was in a thousand pieces that evening. We both got really drunk. It hasn't happened to me since… before entering the academy, I think. I hope it worked at least to her.

I look at my cell phone, hoping what? A text from her now? That a new case arrived? Neither option is realistically possible. I sigh, pulling it into my back pocket and making a decision at the same time. At least one. I turn around, and head to my car. I tried. I gave her half an hour, perhaps I should say that I gave fate, rather than her, the opportunity to prove something to me. But nothing happened, and Penelope will never know that I stayed outside the hospital where Tyler is being treated, completely alone, in the cold, hoping to see her appear.

And then, then what was I going to do? Stupid dilemmas that no longer make sense to wonder. I reach the car, but precisely because of my fingers are numb from the low temperature, my keys fall out. As I bend down to pick up them, I hear the sound of heels on the asphalt. I don't want to delude myself. Too late.

I carry on as if nothing had happened, ignoring that perfume which, although mixed with anxieties and fears, remains unmistakable. -Luke?- she called me by my first name instead of my last. This is already a victory, I can say I am satisfied, thank you very much. Can I go home now? I catch all the shades of uncertainty in her tone and not a single note of happiness to see me. I sigh and turn in her direction, leaning against the car door. -What are you doing here?- wrinkles on her forehead. She didn't do her makeup. Did she cry for him? Of course she did, what a stupid question. And for me, for me has she ever done it? When she thought I died in the explosion, did she shed even a tear at the thought of never seeing me again, except in a coffin?

All the techniques I've learned in years of military service and as a federal agent go to hell when I'm with her. There remains only a pathetic man unable to formulate a meaningful sentence. -Uh… I wanted to know how you were… and…- it came out like this, even if I should have asked her about Tyler, since he's the one in trouble. But I don't take it back, I was sincere. My priority is her.

She always has been, even on those occasions, like after the accident in which Walker lost his life, where training would have led me to focus on something else. And yet, one moan of pain from her was enough for me to abandon a half-blind JJ and run to her. As well as I stood by her side, coaching her on how to dab Tyler's wound. -Oh.- amazement again. How is it possible, after everything I've shown her since we've known each other, that she's still surprised to see me worrying about her? Is she really that naive? -I'm…I'm fine.- lie, like the first time I caught her crying in her office over Reid. She called me friend, but she won't let me near her. I thought I had knocked down all the walls, but instead there are some bricks that want to prevent me from reaching her.

I don't know what it was. The anger at seeing that I was always stuck at the starting line. The pure black (not green) jealousy of imagining her at another's bedside. Maybe all together. Before she even has time to think about it, I push her against my chest, hugging her, while a little voice in my head repeats over and over to enjoy this moment as much as possible, because it will be the last. Penelope instantly transforms from a rigid body to the soft and warm one of the woman I love. She sinks into my chest, and I let her pour all of her tears into my sweater. I will never wash it again. I'll hold it to me on nights when sleep won't keep me company. I remain silent, one hand in her hair and the other on her back. She looks so small and fragile now. I keep my grip firm as I whisper a question that is actually a statement. -You love him, don't you?- she tries to wriggle out of my arms, but I can't bear to look into her eyes as she kills me with the bullets I've personally provided for her.

I must have probably hit some bare spot, because I feel the change in her. -No.- she finally replies, but I can't believe her. If she denies her feelings for Tyler, the situation is even worse than I guessed. I let her go, but she doesn't go away. -No.- she repeats. And she seems really convinced of what she is saying. Indeed, she seems… sorry. And now I'm the one confused. -I worry about him, that's true. And we have an…- she meets my gaze and this time she notices by herself, without me having to point out anything, how little I want to hear her repeat what a great sex they had. -But I wouldn't call it love.- she stares at me, she literally pierces me and looks like she's waiting. For my step? What should I do? Damn, if I only knew what was the right thing to do! -Remember that talk about finding the right person, that we had during our date?- I hasten to nod, but I refrain from adding the obvious, I've never stopped thinking about it. -Here- I'm shaking, I'm fucking scared that she's going to say that she's realized she's found it, and that it's Tyler. It wouldn't make sense, since she just admitted she doesn't love him, but… -I know it's not him.- Penelope looks me in the eyes again, and she seems to be looking for something, but she can't find it. She sighs.

I'm afraid she'll leave, give up. Then I make what I usually did, like a last-ditch attempt to continue a conversation. I say any shit to keep her attention on me. Well, this time it's not technically bullshit, but a rhetorical question, but it carries the same weight. -How can you be sure?- and my voice becomes soft, falters. I hate myself immensely.

She shivers and it takes a moment to understand that it is not an emotional reaction, but a physiological one. Penelope doesn't have the patience to wait for me to wake up, anyway. -We could… we could keep talking about it… I don't know, in your car? I'm freezing.- and the coat she is wearing is too light. Such a drop in temperatures wasn't expected. I nod and hastily open the door for her. Penelope comes aboard without my help. I reach her. I'm quivering with joy, because for the first time she didn't take the opportunity to run away, but she chose to stay and face it head on. I see reflected in her pupils the Penelope that made me fall in love. I know she is still there. -Thank you.- a weak smile. -Tyler asked me to leave Quantico, the team… all of you, and start a life together, away from here. To come back just for the trial. Just the two of us against the world.- she doesn't look at me and I struggle to recover from the blow.

-Whoah.- I exclaim, shaking my head. The boy is not joking. He played hard. And how can you blame him? -And you…- luckily she keeps to tell.

-At first I almost said yes.- I swallow. -I don't know if you know… I had a chat with Emily, very nasty.- she stares at her shoes. -I deserved every single word, I know. I jeopardized one of the most important cases FBI has ever handled… I just wish at least someone would believe me when I say I didn't do it on purpose. Everything suddenly became bigger than me. But I didn't mean to.- her hands are constantly moving, despite the confined space in which we are. -And I know that I've been a bad friend, for everyone, not only since Tyler appeared.- I start to retort, but I'd be partially lying, so I'm silent. -I tried to work on myself, during the pandemic, I thought I had reached a balance, instead I went from one extreme to the other.- the cabin welcomes her first sob. Heartbreaking. -Oh, Luke!- before she finishes saying my name, my hands are already on her. -I became the anti Garcia. Selfishness incarnate!- I'm not willing to stand motionless while she insults herself.

-No, it's not true…- beyond the fogged lenses, her eyes challenge me. -Ok, let's say you've begun to think a little more about yourself, and this isn't necessarily a bad thing...- nothing, I can't bear to be mad at her or say something that might hurt her, not even when she herself asks me to.

A few tears slip through my fingers. She shakes her head. -Luke, you... you've always been too good to me. Do you think I never noticed?- I'm shaking. -You've always been my shadow, since you walked at the BAU, you've always been there for me, ready to hold me up every time I was about to fall... that someone to go to when I want to cry... and more.- know that she has noticed it causes me a wave of immense happiness. It wasn't all in vain. However, it doesn't last long. Because if she knows, how should I interpret all those behaviors that I have attributed to her naivety? -And I paid back you with snarking… but always hoping that you knew… how much I really care about you and how much I love you.- I know she means it affectionately, so I have no illusions.ù Her tone, her gaze suggests it. I hand her a tissue, to break the gloomy atmosphere that has been created. -Penelope- she looks at me in silence -what did you answer to him?- she seems initially disappointed that, about all her touching speech, I remained stuck on that trifle, that she thinks it doesn't concern me.

-I say I can't.- my lungs start pumping air again. -And thereby, it had no longer sense... to be together.- she shrugs, lost in another past. JJ once mentioned one her ex, another IT, that had proposed to her. It ended bad. Is this the fate of anyone who tries to approach her romantically?

I block her, forcing her to look at me again. -He didn't agree to proceed more... calmly?- why the heck am I carrying on this discussion, this is what her eyes ask me, but I know the answer well. I'm not thinking about her and Tyler at all. No, I'm… asking for a friend. Very close.

She sighs, as if her body is about to collapse, abandon her. Who knows how exhausting it must have been, the conversation with what she believed was her boyfriend, who had just re-emerged from the darkness. And I came to give her the coup de grace. -We didn't even considered it, because it wouldn't have mattered. I've been single for years and… that's okay. If he's not the right… and I know it's not, why should I delude him? I will never be able to love him the same way.- I nod. I no longer know how to get out of this situation and suddenly I would like to be alone.

-Should I... give you a ride home?- I expect her to nod. In any of my fantasies, Penelope would have done it, or she would have replied that wasn't needed, she could take a taxi, she had come here with her Esther, there was always the subway…

Instead she denies. -No.- her face still bears traces of the salty drops she poured, but her expression is serious and determined. I'm scared. -Luke, I don't think the fact that you, only you, came out here waiting for me... is a coincidence. Nor anything that would do a simple worried colleague.- she grabs my hand. Here we go, is this really going to happen? -Stop me or deny me, if I say something that seems incorrect to you.- but I even struggle to breathe. I'm in apnea. -Nothing you've done for me can be described as simple kindness. Especially the way I kept your at distance.- she has hit me. -So… when Tyler came up with that proposal, I realized two things. The first, that it wouldn't have been right to accept, and the second, that I could only say yes to one person.- her sweet gaze is not enough to convince me that she really means me.

Not entirely. But now... -Then why did you say that there was definitely something between us, but not like that?- finally, after three years, I get rid of this weight. I still have one clarification to make. -And what did you mean with "not like that"? As much as I've racked my brain, I haven't found a sensible solution.- Penelope giggles, but only from embarrassment.

-Uh, that night… everything was so weird, and the silence certainly didn't help. I know you tried your best to get things going, while I… I gave it a clean break, because it seemed like the easiest route. Because when you ordered two glasses of wine… both for you… I kind of had a vision, and I realized that I would really risk it all, with you, leave my whole heart in your hands and it's… something I've never done before, never, in more than forty years.- I have always adored witnessing her ravings, and now I'm the subject, and also the love (because it’s this) that she feels for me…

I caress the palm of her hand, I contemplate the lines drawn on her skin as if I were a fortune teller. -Me neither.- I whisper. -I've never given my heart to anyone either, not voluntarily… but it was yours anyway, ever since I've known you.- she gasps. We're competing to see who shoot biggest, and I don't give a damn who will win.

-Well, then you know how dangerous it is. How scary it is.- I nod. She leans her head on my shoulder, and it's not exactly the most comfortable position in the world, but inside I'm salsa dancing.

-Penelope?- I call her, after what seems like a century. She lifts her eyes to me. -Do you think that now can I…?- she senses what I can't say out loud, pulling me towards her, until our faces are practically stuck together. She gives me the last spur with a killer look. Hurry up, or do you really want me to change my mind? But it's her again, my Penelope. In any case, I decide not to risk my fate.

Her mouth fits perfectly on mine. Her fingers wander through my hair, my hands on her cheeks, as we moan in pleasure as we pass to the following step. -About time.- she exclaims, parting to catch her breath, before the next round.

Now I am sure that her lips will always be my personal paradise. And that she will be the place where I feel really safe. Things I've always known and that's why it hurt so much to see her deny my every step in her direction. Too much waste.

But now that doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that I know that she knows that I will be there for her through this process, that no matter what, I will be there, because this is my destiny. And she will be there for me, whether she decides to stay at the BAU or another job. No more secrets between us, and not even bricks.

And I'll come looking for you, because I feel good with you

-

Note: this story is based on my what if instead.

[multifandomingmess]

How I Feel About Stranger Things Season 4 Vol 2

Beware, spoilers will be mentioned. If you do not want to read spoilers, do not proceed below the line. Thank you.

I'm going to be blunt. I was let down by the second volume. I pretty much loved the first volume but the second volume... All over the place. First off, SINCE WHEN WAS ELEVEN ABLE TO REVERSE DEATH? Max died but Eleven was able to reverse the death. Max IS in a coma but she's alive. If Eleven has always had this ability, so many people could've been saved, including Barbara, Bob, Billy, Alexei, Chrissy, etc.

Then, I understand Max's feelings towards Billy and that a part of her DID wanted him DEAD but I felt like they COMPLETELY recanted the letter from "Dear Billy" because there's no way that Max was faking those tears. There's no way that Max faked her emotions. There's no way that Max faked grieving. There's no way that Max was faking being su!c!dal. For example, when Vecna pretends to be Billy, we see him say as Billy, "And why, late at night, you have sometimes wished to follow me. Follow me into death. That is why I am here, Max. To end your suffering, once and for all."

Like, I understand, Billy is a terrible person and I am not defending that - however, he was abused. He still was abused by his father. He wasn't a former victim, he was still a victim of abuse. Obviously, I wish he didn't continue that cycle of abuse, but to me, if Steve can change his sexist and emotionally abusive ways - Billy could have, too. Billy was 17. He was still a kid. Everyone can grow. Then again, I tend to always think the positive in complex situations. That's a good and a bad thing.

Anyways, I also do not understand the hatred for metalheads that the Duffer brothers have. First, we lose Billy (if you do not like Billy, that's fine. Please do not make a comment because I do not want any fighting. You're valid.) and now Eddie?! I don't even think the Duffer Brother's realize how much hyperfixtations mean to people. A lot of neurodivergent people use comfort characters as a way to cope so this is going to be painful for a lot of people. It is painful. I cried like a baby. It made me think of July 2019, when I watched Billy sacrifice himself. Then, here we are, it's July 2022 and here we have Eddie sacrificing himself. It's ridiculous.

Also, I want to understand if the people who died from a creature of the upside-down (or anything related to it) actually die or if they go to the realm that Henry/001 went into.

The queerbaiting is full-force yet again. We heard all of those interviews and articles about how they planned to address his sexuality during this volume but all I saw was Will crying. I saw him lie and promote Mileven by saying El commissioned the painting. However, Mike knew that El said, "Will is painting something for someone he likes." and Mike didn't even acknowledge it. He didn't remember that letter because he was so caught up in this "romance" will Eleven. Like, I obviously don't think Mike has feelings for Will, but I would love to see an openly gay character on the show, besides Robin. I love to see the representation.

The lack of memories and flashbacks from Max's childhood also hurt me. Eleven was in Max's mind. Max was possessed by Vecna during this.

This part is very off-topic but this is about the whole Billy situation. Yes, the Duffer's wrote Billy's character to be racist, well specifically Ross. Matt didn't. They wanted Dacre to say the n-word. Dacre refused. Both Dacre and Caleb said that they never thought Billy's intentions were related to Lucas' race but because he has this urge to protect Max but it's not in a healthy way, obviously. It could relate to how he wasn't ever to help his mother as a child. The Duffer's also originally planned to make Steve r*pe Nancy in the pilot. This was confirmed by Joe Keery himself. So, these topics were brought up by the writers. Some people don't even know that the Duffer brother's are problematic. They have allegations of verbal abuse to female crew-members. They are very privileged. There are people on Reddit who pointed this out during BTS videos. Specifically, "Beyond Stranger Things"

Anyways, I prefer to respect the actor's version of their character. They're the ones who get into the mindset and head of the character. They know their character inside and out. Dacre was the one who was able to get more of a backstory for Billy in Season 3. So, yeah, I prefer the actor's perspective vs. the writers because some people don't realize how problematic the Duffer's are. Yes, they're talented writers but that is all. I'm sure they are kind and they may not be as bad as people make them out to be.

So, that's my personal thoughts about Volume 2. I liked it, I didn't hate it but there were lots of problems within the storyline. I'm not even sure how they're going to do a time jump with the current storyline of the town being split into four.

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker, episode 137

I was, as is nearly always true, correct last week in that we have not covered much more time and therefore this is still really just an Essek Breakdown Tracker (with honorary Yussa). I'm hoping that next week they will destroy Cree and buy themselves enough time to at least heroes feast and rest up, if not get a proper night's sleep in what is apparently the intestines of the Somnovem ward, and I can speculate again on some of the other wizards.

As a reminder, Caleb Widogast is a PC, not an NPC, and therefore ineligible for this.

Currently sidelined: Allura, Pumat, Trint, Astrid, Eadwulf, Ludinus, Oremid, Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk, and Lady Vess DeRogna who's presumably looking at this from the afterlife and just thinking "are you fucking kidding me? this could have been me, being screamed at by horrors beyond comprehension, if the person whose soul I smashed like a cheap beer bottle had the common decency to remain as such."

Essek Thelyss: Essek has been keeping a low profile because of the restrictions of actual play, namely Matt is too busy making nightmare noises with his own mouth, but I in-game, I think that he's just intentionally pretending the last couple of hours did not happen because there are more pressing issues now. As a result he is coming off as slightly bored, which I'm into.

Here's what we do know: Essek is somewhat injured, has a great dex score, has a GREAT intelligence score, might be using cantrips to flirt but is definitely using them to stop people from screaming, cast some extremely sexy lightning, and should be paired up with Veth more frequently because that was really funny. He is probably going to have to counterspell a cat really soon. You know. Normal things.

You know how if you've been having a bad mental health time, and you finally are able to drag yourself out to something, but it's like, a friend of a friend's experimental modern dance, or a movie you didn't particularly care to see, and you're like "I'm doing it! I'm out of the house, like a normal person! This is good!" but also the thing you are doing is not particularly enjoyable. But you're just like "you know what? I peeled myself off the couch for this and put on a clean shirt, and I guess it is happening to me, or at me, or around me, and I suppose that is some small victory, and I hope this will be relatable to people on the internet as an experience one day."

This is Essek. Is the Astral Sea Lovecraftian Nightmare Science Museum a great time? No. Is it a step up from several straight weeks of alternate guilt and panic attacks at the outpost? Maybe not! But it sure is a step somewhere, and that, my friends, is possibly a victory.

Conclusion: downgrading him back to 8/10 on the grounds that he seems like the kind of person who would be like "you know what? I could be in endless torment here and I am not." But also literally the purpose of cosmic horror is to jack up your breakdown levels so I doubt he (or anyone) is getting much further down than that.

Yussa Errenis: As mentioned, heads turning into eyeballs in a fantasy setting is totally chill for me. Having your personality subsumed into a fractured insane hive mind such that death is welcomed as a release, not so much. The reason I hate zombie movies isn’t gore. I can look at cracked skulls full of breached blood-brain barrier all day. The reason is that this monster wears the face of someone you love, but is just a mindless vessel of hunger who does not recognize you in turn.

MAN THIS INSTALLMENT GOT KIND OF DARK AND I DID NOT MEAN FOR THAT TO HAPPEN.

Anyway my kind of joking statements about Yussa may hold a bit of water, but there is a bright side. Per the Astral Projection spell, if Yussa dies in the city and the silver thread tethering him to the material plane is intact he wakes up in real life, which would be nice, but also, no guarantees.

Should Yussa survive and return to the material plane I think it would be great if, when the Mighty Nein go back to talk to him again after this arc, he's like "yeah I could see you playing the worst ever game of What Time is it Mr. Fox in the city, what a poor decision" and they're like "poor decisions you say?"

Conclusion: Praesidius Junction J̵͚̔ų̷̣̀ṇ̷̡̃c̶̯͝t̶̡͝î̴̟̈́ŏ̶̟̑n̵̻͆̎ ̶̢͚̔͘j̴̰͚̅u̵̺͊̈́n̵̬̫͊c̵̯̈́̅t̵̜͔͘í̵̦̻̎ȍ̵̖̔n̷̲̬͛̒j̴͔̿́u̶̘̠̓n̷̰̕c̷̡̙͝t̶̨̅̋ỉ̸̗͉͠o̷̯͑͋n̶̰̽̒ HELP HELP HELP [high pitched Matt scream]/10

[skeetusmcyeetus]

I’ve making headcanons about all of my hyper fixations for a while now and just dumping them on my friends so I’m gonna also dump them here.

If you’re into All For the Game , My Hero Academia, ATLA, The Raven Cycle stay fuckn tuned my doods bc I have a loooot of stuff rattling around my empty skull.

Not all of these are 100% mine some of them are already pretty popular and I’m expanding on them or I heard something similar and edited it to my own tastes

I’ll separate them by series,,,

Theres like one canon that’s mildly nsfw

TW: drug abuse

Mha/Bnha

pro hero kirishima’s Red Riot™️ merch is insanely size inclusive bc he wants fatgum to be able to wear the hoodie that kiri’s pr team sent him but that’s not all,,

If he wasn’t super gay and in love with Bakugou he’d be very Into BBWs so again his merch is super size inclusive bc he wants everyone to be able to wear it

The company that makes the merch also takes requests for special made merch for people who’s quirks interfere with a “normal” size or dimension

ALSO ,,,,this man(kiri) is built like a fuckn MACK TRUCK OKAY he is 6’7” and cannot fit through doorways without ducking and turning a little to the side ,,, he is broad And still wears no shirt™️ ,,, this being said ,, bakugou is still around 5’8” and pretty slim don’t get me wrong he’s extremely strong and toned but he’s not huge,, it makes flying easier if he stays a little lighter ,,,,,,, the point is,, sometimes kiri will pick up bakugou with one arm and bakugou can’t even pretend to hate it anymore

Also,,,, fatgum has to use special pens and keyboards because of how big his hands are,,, he’s literally 8’2” I won’t take criticism on this

Fatgum actually loves wearing red riot and sun eater merch

Allmight and Inko start dating and one day when they’re out someone comments on how much all might “looks like a skeleton” and she absolutley lets loose on them for being so vapid and shallow and how “he’s risked his life to save people like you more times than you have ever even thought about being helpful in your life and it would serve you well to treat someone who’d die for you without even knowing you with more respect”

All might had to gently pull her away bc the guy was crying and she wasn’t anywhere near finished with him

Midnight is Asexual and aggressively pretends to be horny on main™️ because for one, it works with her quirk and two, nothing sells better than sex especially when you’re a woman.

Bakugou and kirishima use sign language to talk shit at Public events

Dabi is addicted to painkillers because he’s been on them his entire life,, he wakes up with the shakes and sometimes toga has to help him take his meds in the morning because he’s already in withdrawal

Tensei was the first one to realize that iida was autistic and immediately did copious amounts of research on ASD and how to be a good brother to him

ATLA

sokka grows his hair as long as Zuko’s (except the sides obvi) and sometimes he’ll wear his hair in the fire nation top knot and zuko loses it every time

Azula gets help and now sometimes when she wakes up with the sun after a night of fitful sleep she goes to the courtyard to have tea with iroh. They never talk, but then again they never need to.

Sometimes after a hard day sokka falls asleep in the bathtub and wakes up to zuko warming the water back up and washing his hair for him

Suki lounges in zukos throne while zuko gets worked up about stuff and paces all around the room

Mai is on the ace spectrum

When sokka and zuko visit the southern water tribe zuko will firebend for the all of the kids in the village,,, they love him so much and sometimes sokka gets a little teary eyed watching him

Sokka braids zukos hair water tribe style and it’s the hottest thing maybe ever

Zuko takes sokka on shopping sprees pretty frequently and sokka fuckn loves it

One time someone has the nerve to call sokka “the fire lords sugar baby” and sokka just flips his ponytail over his shoulder Ariana style and says “and what about it?”

The Raven cycle

Ronan has 100% killed Robert Parrish in his dreams and when he wakes up to see Adam next to him he almost immediately wants to go back to sleep and do it again for all the pain he’s caused Adam

Gansey is oblivious to the fact that he is indeed shredded,, when he gets really worked up he moves his arms a l o t like rolls up his sleeves, crosses and uncrosses his arms and The gang’s favorite is when he puts his hands on his head and subconsciously flexes,,,, literally entire gangsey will group swoon at him and he genuinely thinks they are marvelling at his passion for whatever he’s worked up about

Ronan watched broke back mountain once when he was like 16 and now all he can think about is being a gay cowboy ,,,

Adam will read people’s tarot wrong if theyre douchebags

Don’t you think it’s funny that the ganseys don’t have any straight children?

Blue has a T-shirt from each member of the gangsey (except Noah,, rip Noah) and shes created a terrible Franken-T-shirt by ripping them up and sewing them all back together in an extremely ugly patch work thing

Adam talks in Latin in his sleep and it really freaks his roommate out,, like a lot,, not to mention the fact that Adam already creeps him out to begin with bc he’s got that other vibe that comes from being tied to cabeswater and lindenmere ,, 6 out of 7 days his roommate is convinced that he’s a witch or a fairy or something

Ronan teaches opal how to bake and opal burns everything on purpose

aftg

Neil has definitely killed multiple people to survive

Neil’s mom definitely made him kill someone at least twice to make sure he could kill to survive on his own if they got separated

he probably definitely still has nightmares about each one

Matt and Dan both had a crush on Neil for like 30 seconds and absolutely talked to each other about him

Ppl always talk about how hot it is to crush a watermelon with your thighs,,,, Andrew could do it with his arms

Aarons ass is so flat and Andrew has an absolute dumptruck

Kevin started out as one of those annoying “obsessed with WWII” history guys and now he’s actually very into queer history and will rant about the lavender scare for an hour if you let him

The foxes lounge room(?) has a dart board with riko’s face on it to this day,, they literally have a drawer full of copies the same image of riko and every time one gets worn out they put a new one up. It’s more of an inside joke now but wymack still hates that little puke even though he’s dead so it stays up

Post-canon Neil gets drunk and teaches the team how to steal a car by hot wiring Matt’s truck

Matt does drag for halloween one year and Dan liked it a little too much *cough cough* she pegged him while he was still in drag

Someone once asked Renee if she was “saving herself for marriage like a good Christian girl should” and Allison knocked them out cold and stepped over the body

Neil calls Aaron ugly to his face literally any chance he gets (I feel like this one might be canon but I actually don’t know What’s real anymore)

Andrew Unironically wears a pink apron that says “kiss the cook” that Nicky got him for Christmas when he bakes

Okay I think that’s it ? For now?? Let me know if y’all want more,,,,, I’ll separate them next time I just really had to dump these and I didn’t want to make multiple posts.

I made this at 5:30 in the morning sorry if it’s riddled with typos and errors.

[centaurianthropology]

Far-Too-Specific Predictions for Critical Role C3 that will Absolutely be Wrong (but I like)

Setting and Flavor

I would love to see a group of veterans after a massive war that left both sides devastated.  Matt likes to play with difficult moral conundrums, and a setting where two warring parties both came off poorly, and now they’re both limping through a reconstruction could be really interesting for a long-play game. I would also really like to see both sides of the conflict represented in the group.  The one thing I wanted to see more of in campaign 2 was a native Xorhasian perspective in the group (aside from Essek, who wasn’t a PC).  I’m placing this as post-major Dynasty/Empire conflict at some point in the future, so it would be the same geographical setting as campaign 2, but time skipped enough that we don’t really have a ton of recurring characters.  Cameos from the longer-lived Campaign 2 characters are still possible, though.

Player characters

These predictions are based on my perception of player preferences, interesting roleplay opportunities, and focusing on things that the players seem interested in but haven’t been able to explore yet.  I have also built prior relationships, because I loved having PCs come in with relationships to build the group on and give early opportunities for trust and character building:

 Travis: Human Cleric (Order), with possible multi-class Fighter (Battle master). I would love to lean into a tactical, Imperial battle-commander type character for Travis, who can hit, but leans more support.  I also would love to see him play a cleric with wavering faith in how he used to believe and practice.  He has seen too much of war, too much of dying, to be overly-devoted to a single law or side, and is on an active quest of faith to find a higher sense of order and morality.  He maybe left the army in disgrace, or went AWOL, but either way he is persona non grata on his former side of the war, with only one ally having followed him into exile.  Prior relationship: Ashley’s fighter.  When he went AWOL or was driven into exile, she was the only soldier who followed him. He struggles with his choices and his faith, and she acts as his rock and has become far more of an equal because of that.

Ashley: Warforged Fighter (echo knight).  Ashley loves a straightforward fighter, so I wanted to give her something without complex rules to stress her out, but one that still has some really interesting flavor and possibilities once she gets into the groove.  Echo knight is ideal, because it’s not a hard subclass to play, but it can be seriously fun.  I like the idea that her character was built as an answer to Xorhasian dunamancy, to double herself and fight as two.  As she evolved and became less a machine and more a person, she became more and more attached to her commander rather than blind patriotism, to the point that when he left, she went with him.�� Prior relationship: Travis’ cleric.  He was her commander, and she still tends to act as his soldier, despite his wavering faith. She followed him when he lost faith, and she continues to be the one who follows and believes in him.

Laura: Full Orc Barbarian (wild magic).  Laura loves to hit things, and has clearly wanted to play a hardcore tank for a while. I want her to be able to wade into any fight and tank a ton of damage, and full orc and barbarian both play into that. I figure her character would be Xorhasian, was a soldier for a while, but could never fit in because of her taste for wild magic and her chaotic nature.  Having her be a full orc would also allow her to explore playing a character who can’t be traditionally sexy, which would be a fun change from Vex and Jester. I see her as someone who rapidly went AWOL from the army, and is generally unaligned and doesn’t want to think about the war or what it did to her country or her people, and wallows in wild magic to avoid it.  Maybe she went to the Menagerie Coast during the war to get away from the fighting and dive deeper into her path, at which point she met Sam’s character.  Prior relationship: Sam’s sorcerer, as they walk the same path.  They share a faith, and that drew them together before the campaign, and they’re chaotic, happy best friends.

Sam: Satyr Sorcerer (wild magic).  Doubling up wild magic would be nuts, but would allow Sam and Laura to play with some crazy combos in roleplay and in combat.  Sam loves unpredictability, and so I could really see him leaning into the dice roll and relishing when things go wrong as a wild magic sorcerer.  Satyr would also lean into this chaotic bent, and would stack well with the charisma-based sorcerer build.  I see him as being from the Menagerie Coast, unaligned in the war, but touched by it somehow (possibly lost someone / his home / etc to the fighting?).  He and Laura’s character met due to their mutual inclination and tie to wild magic, and are very close friends who have tried to spend the entire war pretending there isn’t a war.  Prior relationship: Laura’s barbarian.  They are on the same wild path, but perhaps have different connections to it or opinions about it to give them different flavors and different approaches to the same chaos.

Marisha: Yuan-ti Pureblood Rogue (swashbuckler).  Let Marisha play high charisma!  Let her play a pirate!  I would love to see a snake-y pirate lady, unaffiliated with everything, acting as a sarcastic outside observer.  I would love to see her lean into snark and the scoundrel-with-a-heart-of-gold archetype, especially in a race than is stereotyped as evil.  Maybe she’s getting out of the pirate’s life, or did something horrific that riddles her with guilt that she covers with snark.  I would just love to have her get a dark, but non-political backstory.  Prior relationship: None.  She is a wildcard character, deliberately.  She comes in and adds a very different flavor and perspective, and as such, probably shouldn’t have a relationship with any of the other characters.

Liam: High Elf Artificer (artillerist).  Liam’s love of describing his spells’ mechanics in C2 was what inspired this. I think he would enjoy being an inventor steeped in tragedy, possibly as someone who invented a weapon of mass destruction for the Empire, and still wants to believe in his homeland, despite what he did and what they did.  Give me Liam as the man who has become death, destroyer of worlds.  It plays into his love of tragedy and redemption, and I am here for that.  Prior relationship: Taliesin’s wizard.  His shame has kept him a hermit, but chance brought Taliesin’s character to him, and he saw Taliesin’s character as a means of redemption or better understanding. Having his closest tie be to someone from the other side would also play into the tragedy of his character.

Taliesin: Drow Wizard (homebrew dunamancer).  Taliesin has always been Matt’s go-to for exploring homebrew content, and introducing dunamancy into C2 was a ton of fun.  I would love to see this get expanded and explored with a Xorhasian dunamancer character PC, and Taliesin has a talent for taking something Matt has played with (Firbolgs, blood hunters, etc.), and making it unique.  He’s definitely the player I could see taking the dunamancer and making him very distinct from Essek and the pre-established notion of what a dunamancer is.  This would also fit with my notion that his character was tightly tied to Dynasty politics, possibly a courtier background, prior to the war, and found himself tied up in it.  I would love to see Taliesin play a character more politically tied to the central story than Caduceus was, as he has a talent for driving plot and being a lynchpin for Matt’s larger plans.  So centering the deep-lore plot on Tal and Liam could be really great.  Prior relationship: Liam’s artificer, though theirs is not a long acquaintance.  They met shortly before the campaign, and though they have a bond, it’s new and somewhat untested.  Not to mention that the combination of an artillerist who built a weapon of mass destruction and a dunamancer make for the potential for some explosive blowouts as secrets get revealed.

[simonsrosebud]

what if kevin & dalton had been set up instead of meeting on their own?

(pls accept this as apology for not posting any kalton for MONTHS)

kevin doesn’t have a date to the banquet.

normally, it’s fine.  he’s taken allison or renee to the last few, as friends.  but this year, renee has something going on with gwen, their freshman dealer who is somehow only a year younger than himself.  and allison got scooped up by ricky, the other freshman dealer. 

“what happened to us being dates?  i thought it was unspoken?”

allison shrugs and pushes her hair behind her shoulder.  she has her arms crossed as she leans against the doorframe to kevin’s bedroom.  “sure, but ricky has a crush on me and it’s fun playing around with it.”

kevin sends her a look.  “ew, don’t look at me like that.  as if, he’s like a baby to me.”  kevin opens his mouth, but gets cut off.  “you could get a date easily, it’s fine, we’ll help.”

and she’s right.  later that afternoon she shoots a text to the team groupchat.

allison:  kevin needs a date, any and all genders welcome.  must be hot, good at socializing, and able to withstand his complete lack of care for them esp once he starts talking exy. 

allison:  i expect a nominee from each of you.  good luck soldiers.

and kevin’s going to kill that girl.

the freshmen don’t answer, of course.  all of their friends are freshmen, and they’re also just too scared to respond to the foxes sometimes.

aaron responds first, suggesting he just take one of the vixens.  neil chimes in by saying that marissa girl is fucking social alright.

kevin doesn’t get why allison can’t just set him up with one of her friends.  she has a strict rule against any of the foxes dating her non-exy friends, but it’s just an banquet. 

matt comes in last, but instead of the groupchat it’s just to kevin.

matt:  i have a friend named dalton.  he’s in his masters to become a professor but he’s chill. he’s nice and fun too, the best guy i know

kevin knows he shouldn’t be shallow, but...

kevin:  picture?

matt responds almost instantly.  a picture of his friend sitting across from him at starbucks on his laptop.  he looks caught off guard, like matt took the picture without warning.

is he with him right now?

kevin:  maybe.

he drops his head back and rubs his eyes.

an hour later, the door opens.  neil comes in first.  matt is on his heels, and someone else trails in behind him.  kevin sits up.

neil looks at him.  in french, he says, “i wasn’t a part of this.”

kevin stands, and responds back in french.  “you let him in.”  neil shrugs at that, and continues down to the bedroom.

matt nods at him with a smug smile.  “do you still have your psych 101 workbook?  i have to take it next semester and i don’t wanna buy it.”

kevin frowns.  is he not going to introduce his friend?  “uh, yeah.”  he turns to his desk and rummages through the drawers to pull it out.

“oh, this is dalton, by the way.  he’s a friend from sophomore year.”

there it is.  kevin turns back, book in hand, and nods at dalton.

dalton smiles, calm and charming, and tilts his head a bit.  “he��s lying.  i was his TA.”

kevin gives a smile.  it’s small and faint, and mostly fake.  he can’t help it.  he doesn’t care for small talk like this.  how old does that make dalton?

also, how did matt befriend his TA?  kevin’s never spoken a word to the majority of his own.

“can’t imagine having to deal with him in class,” he says, jokingly.

matt doesn’t defend it, just shrugs and moves on.  “hey, did you find a date to the banquet yet?”  he wiggles his eyebrows.  

kevin’s gonna kill him.  he stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket so he can ball his fists.  “not yet, no.”

he nods, nudges dalton.  “kevin’s on the exy team, too.  he’s the only one without a date to the winter banquet this year,” he says.  “allison, remember allison?  she’s on a manhunt to find someone she approves of for him.”

dalton considers it.  “that sounds like allison.”

kevin refrains from frowning.  “have you met her?”

dalton has, just one time when he and matt went to a football game this fall and made a pit stop to matt’s room.  it’s also when he met neil, albeit very briefly.  neil had too much going on to give him the time of day.

“once, a month or so ago.”

when matt and dalton get into the car, dalton turns halfway in his seat to fully face matt.  “he doesn’t have a date?”  matt shakes his head.  “is he into guys at all?”

matt glances at him.  “yeah, he’s bisexual.”

dalton raises his eyebrows.  “um, hello?!  why didn’t you set him up with me?!”

matt frowns and shoots his friend a look.  “why do you think we just went over?!  i took psychology freshman year!”

dalton’s gonna kill him.  “but you didn’t say anything about me to him.”  matt rolls his eyes and waves him off, and dalton sits back in his seat.

“i know kevin, i know what i’m doing.”

he crosses his arms.  “you’re the worst wingman i’ve ever met.”

but low and behold, kevin texts matt a few hours after his visit.

kevin:  how do u know dalton would want to be my date to the banquet?

matt:  bc he literally told me so

kevin:  fine, ask him if he wants to go and i’ll take him.

when dalton climbs on the bus behind matt, it takes him only a moment to spot kevin and make his way over.

the banquet is five hours away, so the foxes and their dates are changing into their formalwear once they arrive.

dalton has joggers on, and a long sleeve henley that’s a size too big.  his collarbone hangs out as the collar hangs low.  he wears a soft smile, and pushes a hand back through his hair. 

he looks hot.

dalton looks even more hot dressed up in his suit.  he keeps at kevin’s side at first, and talks to both matt and dan from time to time.  allison even pops up once to inquire about him, since he wasn’t one of her picks.

dalton and matt seem to joke around like they’re best friends.  but he doesn’t ever remember matt mentioning him.

then again, if kevin had friends outside of exy, he may not introduce them to the foxes, either.

he finds his way back to kevin’s side at their table, where he’s talking to a trojan player.  after a while, kevin turns to him.  “you don’t have to stick by my side, if you don’t want.”  he almost feels bad.

dalton shrugs and smiles.  “what if i want to stick by your side?”  the way that kevin reacts shows that he wasn’t expecting that, and dalton’s smile turns shy.  “um, i don’t mind, really.  i’d feel bad leaving you alone.  i’m your date.”  he takes a sip of his drink.

“okay.”  it barely leaves kevin’s lips, but it’s enough to make dalton happy.

“you can even talk exy to me, if you want.  i can pretend i know how it works.”

kevin’s heart seizes.  “you don’t know exy?”

dalton grins.  “i’ve never even seen a game.”  he leans closer.  “teach me?”

so he does.  for the next half hour, they sit and kevin blabbers on, and dalton listens and asks questions.  and then they sidetrack somehow to talking about marvel movies and what they suspect will happen in the next spiderman movie.

dalton swears to die on the grave that peter parker is a bisexual icon.

“you can take that title, instead, though.”  his grin is cheeky.  kevin lightly kicks his ankle and rolls his eyes, but he’s heavily amused.

“what about you?  what are you?”

“gay,” he shrugs.  “not much to it.”

“did you… when you told people, how did they react?”

dalton’s head tilts just a bit, and his smile starts to fade.  “some people don’t like it, but it was fine for the most part.”  and after a moment.  “why, are you okay?”

kevin nods.  

dalton doesn’t believe it.  and he supposes he doesn’t know kevin enough to say that, but there’s something about the way kevin doesn’t verbally respond to it that sits weird in his head.

he props his chin in his hand.  “i told my roommates i was gay the first week of freshman year.  my roommate knew, but we had two suitemates, and one of them kinda stopped talking to me after that if he could help it.”  he flicks his eyes up to meet kevin’s.  “my uncle asks me at every family function if i’ve got a girl yet.  he’s known for seven years, now,” he says.  “and thanksgiving is now hosted at my house because my grandmother told my mother that i was unwelcome in hers.”

harsh.  

“i’m sorry.”

he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say, really.  he barely has family as it is, but he can’t imagine losing them now because of something so small.

but dalton just shrugs a shoulder.  “it’s okay.  think about it this way, if i was still in the closet i wouldn’t be your date right now.”  he cracks a smile.  always smiling.

that’s when kevin notices just how close their faces are.  and how he keeps glancing at dalton’s mouth.  he sits back.  not here.

dalton goes to the bathroom, and matt takes his seat.  “how’s it going with dalton?”

kevin frowns.  “fine, why?  did he say something?”

matt’s face is indescribable.  “no, but i see you guys getting all close and stuff.  just flirt with him, dude!  he obviously likes you.”

yeah right.  “i-i don’t think so.  he’s just here because i didn’t have a date.”

matt drops his head for a second.  “kevin, after you first met him he scolded me for not setting you two up.  he doesn’t watch exy, and he’s not here for the famous kevin day, just give him a chance.”  kevin looks to the side, where dalton’s on his way back talking with dan at his side.  they’re getting closer, so he talks fast and quiet.  he stands.  “don’t fuck this up, he’s hot and nice,” he whispers, and grins when dan slides into his side.

“we wanna dance.  boys?”  she looks expectantly at both kevin and matt.  matt doesn’t have a choice, but he’d never say no anyway.

dan pulls kevin up and shoves him lightly into dalton, who catches a hand on his waist.  kevin wants to squirm out of it, but not because he doesn’t like dalton, or dalton’s touch.  just because the idea of liking dalton scares him a bit.

but dalton lets go when he finds his balance.

“i don’t- i can’t dance.”

“yeah right, i’ve seen you at eden’s before.”

when he was belligerently drunk.

“you don’t have to.” dalton’s voice is soft behind him.

matt slides his gaze to kevin.  don’t fuck this up.

he turns.  how has his life come to this?  “no.  i will, if you want to.”

dalton grins, lopsided and happy.  “yeah?”

he hopes he doesn’t regret it.  “yeah.” 

so dalton takes him by the hand and leads him after matt and dan.  the majority of the foxes are in the midst of the crowd as well, but they don’t pay them any mind.  there’s enough people that kevin can pretend he’s at eden’s.

kevin is a terrible dancer.  dalton notices it right away and laughs.  when kevin gives him a look he says, “follow my lead.  just sway a little.  nod your head to the music,” kevin looks up at him while he dances, but catches dalton’s eyes instead.

he looks away and falls out of rhythm.  “sorry,” he mumbles.

“it’s okay.”  dalton gently takes kevin’s hands and puts them on his waist.  it feels illegal.  his hands feel like dead weights, he doesn’t know what to do.

is he blacking out right now?

but then dalton’s moving his hips and dancing, and laughing.  he’s having fun and kevin wants to have fun too.

he moves his hands from dalton’s waist to around his neck, and dalton hesitates with his hands near kevin’s hips until kevin nods.

dalton’s fingers dip into his hips.  his one finger taps along the beat of whatever song is playing, while he lightly sings along and bounces back and forth.

it’s dark on this side of the court with the exception of some colored lights darting around.  the designated dancing spot.

kenna is kissing jack in the crowd.

kevin looks back to dalton, singing with a smile plastered on his face.

no one would notice.

kevin’s fingers twitch against dalton’s neck.  but someone could.

he’s already out, but that doesn’t mean he’s kissed a boy in public yet.

he drops his arms.  “i need some air.”

dalton let’s go, “are you okay?”  but he just nods and takes off, off of the court and down the hall to the locker rooms.  the foxes have their things in the away men’s locker room.

kevin sinks down on the bench.  he plays with the bracelet around his wrist, courtesy of betsy in case he needs something to fidget with.  opposed to panicking, that is.

that woman is never wrong.

kevin likes dalton, that’s not in question nor is it really the problem.  the problem is that he doesn’t know what his problem is.  if it’s what people will say when they see that he truly is into men.

being told something versus seeing proof that it’s real are two different things.  he’s learned that, dealt with it more than once.  the last time it was the proof of the raven’s bullying and abuse.  being told that kevin and riko’s relationship isn’t what the fans fantasize it is versus then seeing proof that it isn’t anything that they thought, for example.

kevin had to deal with backlash like that for months after the raven’s investigation post championship game.  him being bi isn’t the same, of course, but he doesn’t know how to predict the behaviors of his fans.  he doesn’t know what they’ll support or not.

but he likes dalton.

“hey.”

one of the freshmen, eva, stands in the doorway.  “stop running 

you don’t have to be scared of people seeing you dance, you know.”

kevin frowns.  “i don’t care about dancing.”

“yeah, but you care about dancing with your date.”  they cross their arms and lean against the doorframe.  “no one cares.  half this team is a little gay, anyway.”

once they’ve changed for the night in the hotel room, dalton hesitates from where he stands by the bed.  “are you okay?  you seemed a little jittery all night, i just... i wanna make sure everything’s fine, i guess.”

kevin looks up, but doesn’t answer. 

stop being so afraid of everything.

he opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t know what he can say.

he sighs.

dalton’s standing there, arms crossed, concerned.  kevin swallows his fears as he makes his way across the room until he’s standing right in front of dalton, and slides a hand behind his neck to kiss him.

dalton hums, surprised.  after a moment he brings a hand to kevin’s chest, and there’s a second where kevin thinks hes going to be pushed away.  instead his fingers dig into his hoodie and he pulls kevin closer.

dalton’s smiling as kevin pulls away.  “about time,” he mumbles, and kisses him again.

the back of dalton’s knees hit the bed by accident, but he drops down to sit and gently pulls kevin by the strings of his hoodie.

kevin isn’t new to sex, so to speak.  he’s not the most experienced, but he’s had his fun.  it’s the only reason he’s confident enough to scoot dalton further back and kiss him into the mattress.

dalton wraps an ankle around the back of kevin’s knee.  he curls his fingers into his hair and leans his head back when kevin kisses down his neck.

they wake up to kevin’s phone blaring.  matt’s calling.

kevin only acknowledges the fact that he has his arm around dalton for a second before he checks the time.

they’re late.

wymack’s gonna kill him.

kevin sits up and shakes dalton as he answers his phone.  “hey you guys are awake right?  coach is pulling the bus around then we’re loading up.”

kevin’s out of the bed and throwing his shirt on, tossing dalton’s hoodie to him.  “yeah, we’re coming.”  dalton’s eyes go wide and that kicks him into gear as he realizes the situation.

they look a mess as they run around.  they’ve really only got one pair of clothes and their suits to frantically shove into their bags.  kevin pulls his sneakers on without socks and dalton’s got his on with the laces all undone as they jog down the hall.

at least they brushed their teeth.

dalton drops down to tie his shoes in the elevator, and when he stands kevin takes the liberty of carding his fingers through his hair.

he shrugs.  “bed head.”

dalton can’t help but smile.  “might wanna pull this up a little,” he mumbles, and that’s when kevin realizes that he’d accidentally put on dalton’s long sleeve henley.  the shirt he’d been wearing last night before it got dropped to the floor.

dalton pushes the shirt up so it’s not hanging lower on kevin’s collarbone.  he’s got a nice hickey that needs hiding.

“they’re never going to let this go,” kevin says.

dalton leans back against the elevator wall.  “i’ve got some juice on matt if you ever need.”

kevin smiles, just a little.  despite him worrying all during the banquet, last night was so good.  he doesn’t want it to end as soon as they step off of the bus.  he doesn’t want dalton to be a one night stand, he doesn’t think.

he takes a step forward and kisses dalton against the wall once more.  he pulls away when the elevator dings.

matt smiles to himself as he watches them come around the corner.  he tries to tame it, at least.

kevin and dalton are the last on the bus.  kevin’s spot in the back is open, so they go back there.  dalton toes off his shoes as soon as he sits down.

kevin is on the aisle side.  his chest skips when dalton’s hand lands gently on his thigh.  he doesn’t hate it.

it’s dinner time when they get back to a rainy palmetto.  dalton had fallen asleep on kevin’s shoulder a half hour ago, and jolts awake when matt whoops and shouts to get out of his way so he can run off the bus for the bathroom.

“sorry,” dalton says quietly, scratching his head and yawning into the back of his hand.

“i didn’t mind.” kevin stretches his legs and pulls his shoes on.

dalton’s car is in the gated stadium parking lot.  kevin walks him to it, head ducked because all he’s got on is dalton’s henley.  no one anticipated rain.

dalton turns after unlocking his car, and sticks a ripped off folded note into kevin’s palm.  kevin puts it right into his pocket for safe keeping.  “so are you gonna call me after this?”  dalton’s hair is falling wet over his  forehead.

he nods, mouths the word yeah but nothing comes out.  and dalton can’t help himself, so he takes a step forward and kisses kevin one last time, gentle as he hesitates with his fingers hovering over his cheek.

kevin’s  got nothing to lose at this point, so he curls his hand alone dalton’s neck and steps closer.

he only pulls away because the team is most likely watching, and someone whistles.  “i’ll call you,” he nods.  he shoves his hands into his pockets and ignores the rain as he watches dalton drive out of the parking lot.

he turns towards the maserati and sees andrew shakes his head.  kevin looks down at himself.  he’s halfway to soaked.  not ideal for such an expensive car. which leaves one option.

kevin slides into the front seat of his father’s car.

wymack can’t wipe the smug look from his face.  “so-“

“no.”

[cacoetheswriting]

champagne problems, ch.8

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.

Chapter Eight: Wild Love: Spencer gets something off his chest while you’re stuck in a hotel room. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading.     Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, very angsty, this whole series is a real slow burn babyyy

series masterlist

A/N: y’all are killing me with all the love on this story so far omg. i am so appreciative of every single comment, like, reblog, all the sweet things you say in the tags etc. etc. thank you and i hope you like this chapter (this one turned out to be more conversation than descriptions of feelings/thoughts just fyi) ! x

-

“Since we’re stuck here for the night, how about one more drink?” Luke asked, glancing between the team. “You buying?” Matt teased making everyone else chuckle. Luke rolled his eyes. “If that’s what it takes.”

All flights were grounded due to a heavy snowstorm. This meant that after solving their most recent case, the team were forced to remain on location. At a small bed and breakfast right in the middle of nowhere.

“I’ll have another drink.” Emily stated with a smile. “Sure, why the hell not. It’s not often I get a night away from my boys.” JJ added. Tara also raised her hand, indicating she'll have one more.

All heads turned to you and Spencer. The brunette doctor sat quietly in the corner. Clearly a lot on his mind. You were right by his side, gently resting your head against his shoulder.

A small yawn escaped your lips. “I think I’m gonna call it a night guys.” You said, slowly sitting up. “It’s been a heck of a day, and the bed is calling my name.” The group groaned, but didn't protest. Instead, they all looked to Spencer who seemed to be debating his options.

“What about you Reid?” Luke asked. “Care for another one?”

“Sure. Uh, I’ll walk Y/N to her room and I’ll be right back.” “It’s okay Spencer, stay. I’ll be fine.” You countered while getting up to your feet however, the handsome doctor wasn’t taking no for answer.

Unknown to you, unknown to everyone apart from Penelope, Spencer’s been trying to find the right moment to tell you how he really felt. He spent the last two months debating whether it was a good idea. The idea of telling you he was still in love with you scared the shit out of him because it could go one of two ways:

1. You feel the same way and call off the engagement. The two of you get back together and he spends the rest of his living breathing days making you the happiest woman on earth.

2. You don’t feel the same way and you end up resenting him for lying to you, his confession ruining your friendship.

Either way, someone will end up getting hurt.

“You really didn't have to come with me doctor.” You said stopping outside the door. Spencer shrugged his shoulders, his nose twitching simultaneously. “I wanted to. Plus sitting too long causes a number of health issues. Your leg muscles weaken. Your hip flexors shorten, and it can cause compression on the discs in your spine which can lead to premature degeneration, which results in chronic pain.”

You arched a brow. “So what you’re saying is that you’re really just looking out for yourself?”

“No, I-I, well...” He flustered and you couldn't help but chuckle. “We’ve been friends long enough for you to know when I’m just messing around.” Friends. The word stung. “Right. Sorry.” He glanced down at his shoes.

Sudden concern flooded through you. Gently, you placed a hand on the side of his face, and slowly lifted it back up. “Are you okay honey? You seem a little off, and I hope you don't mind me saying but it’s not just tonight.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek. Mind racing a million miles an hour. Of course you recognised his odd behaviour. He thought he did a good job at hiding his inner turmoil. Honestly, sometimes he forgets just how well you can read him. He forgets that you know him better than he knows himself.

“I hope you know you can talk to me.” You whispered, tenderly brushing loose strands of his hair away from his face.

The gleam in your eyes was so kindhearted. It was exactly that look that made Spencer think he truly didn't deserve you and that you were better off without him. It was also that look that made Spencer love you even more. The look that made him want to fight for you.

“Do ehm, do you think I could come in?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“Of course.” You let your hand fall back to your side. “Of course you can.”

Soon enough the two of you were sat at the edge of your bed. A noticeably tense atmosphere filled the air. Your eyes were glued to the side of his head, wondering what the hell was going on in that big brain of his, while Spencer looked down at his hands. Which at this point were trembling uncontrollably.

It didn’t take you long to notice, you could practically feel them vibrating against your leg. You reached out, giving them a little squeeze before intertwining your fingers with his.

“What’s going on Spencer? You’re starting to scare me.”

The hazel-eyed man took a deep breath before finally meeting your gaze. His features broken, as if he was about to burst into tears.

“I’ve been lying to you Y/N.” He stated quietly.

You furrowed your brows confused, taken aback by his admission. “W-what? What are you talking about? You’re the most honest man I’ve ever met.” You expressed, but he shook his head. His light curls bouncing perfectly. “I’m not. I’m really not.”

“Spencer.” “Please Y/N, please just… I… I haven’t been honest with you and it’s eating me alive. Usually you would be the person I turn to for advice on these things, but since it involves you… I-I really don’t know what to do.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s not that simple.”

You nodded your head slowly and swallowed your breath. “O-okay. Okay well, uhm… let me ask you this. If you don’t tell me, are you going to continue lying to me?” It was a weighted question which Spencer knew there was no right answer to. “Unfortunately.” He mumbled.

“Then I think, I think it is that simple.”

You were right. Every inch of him screamed you were right. Fuck. How the hell did it come to this? He had no trouble hiding his love for you these last few years.  He couldn’t understand why was it so difficult all of a sudden.

Abruptly, Spencer got to his feet and ran his fingers through his hair. A deep frustrated sigh escaping his lips as he loosened his tie. Your uneasy gaze locked onto him, following his every move. And as he closed his eyes, cracking his neck, you suddenly remembered that the last time he seemed this frazzled was the day the two of you broke up. Your stomach dropped.

“Oh no.” You whispered standing up. “Ohh Spencer.”

He turned on his heel to look at you once again. Your fingers were pressed to your chin, mouth slightly parted. You couldn’t possibly have figured it out?

“You’re breaking up with me.” It seemed like a silly statement considering you weren’t a couple. “I mean, you’re ending our friendship. That’s what this is, right? You don’t want to be my friend anymore and you’ve been lying to me by pretending that you do.” There were noticeable tears in your eyes.

“What? No, no, no. It’s completely the opposite of that.”

“I don’t think I understand. The opposite of-”

“I love you.”

“Well of course, I love you too. You’re my best friend. You’re family.”

“No.” He took a step towards you and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “I’m in love with you Y/N.”

You blinked. Eyelashes fluttering as the realisation of what Spencer just declared washed over you. He saw your lips quaver and your eyes widen. The dots connecting in your mind. All the moments you spent together, the conversations you shared. Everything was running through your mind like a homemade movie, making it impossible it collect your thoughts.

“I know I said I moved on, and that’s where I lied.” Spencer continued as you stared at him, unable to move. “I never moved on Y/N. I tried, believe me I tried. But you are a part of me, a part of my soul. You are the reason I get out of bed in the morning. Seeing you, your smile. Hearing your laughter. Being able to talk to you, and just be around you. Your aura. Everything about you is so intoxicating and I messed up big time letting you go all those years ago.”

Tears began to trail down your cheeks as you bit down on your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Tiny salty droplets that Spencer slowly wiped away using his thumbs.

“I never said anything because I wanted to be there for you, first and foremost, in whatever way you needed me. I wanted to remain in your life after we broke up because your friendship means the world to me. I guess I thought-t, I hoped that maybe one day we’d get back together. And I know it’s unfair for me to lay all of this on you now, I know. And I’m sorry, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. You, I think you deserve to know.”

Quiet sobs filled the room. Your whole body was now shaking under his touch. Heart aching. It felt like you couldn't breathe.

All you ever wanted was for Spencer to love you. All you ever wanted was for him to tell you that he made a mistake all those years ago and that the two of you belong together. 

“P-please say something.” His plea was barely a whisper.

All you ever wanted.

“I-I.. Spencer, I...”

You finally got all you ever wanted. The brunette doctor was standing in front of you professing his love, and yet it felt like he just stabbed you in the back. His declaration, those three cursed words you dreamt so long ago to hear come out of his lips again. It felt like the ultimate betrayal.

Don't know what to say to you now Standing right in front of you

-

A/N: FINALLY A LOVE CONFESSION ! honestly this chapter was a little hard for me to write... it took me a while to actually sit down to it and actually be happy with what i wrote idk BUT i hope you liked it and as always i’d love to hear your feedback! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

masterlist | series masterlist | series playlist

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne​, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner​

[miracleonice87]

38 with Mat

from the Winter/Christmas Writing Prompts list

38. “You’re under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss.” 🎄

quick note: this one is prob a bit longer than the others will be. I just L O V E writing Sydney and Marty as secondary characters in Mat stories.

quick warnings: swearing, alcohol, super snowy powdery Christmas fluff

and, just for fun, song pairing: mistletoe by Justin Bieber (obviously)

_____

There really was no place like home.

After moving away to Los Angeles to attend USC for both undergrad and grad studies, you were finally back in New York. You hadn’t been able to resist the pull — it was almost as if, from all the way across the continent, you could feel the Atlantic tide receding and pulling you home along with it. For better or for worse, you belonged to the Empire State.

Sydney, your lifelong best friend and a New Yorker herself, was beyond ecstatic, as she had recently gotten engaged to her longtime boyfriend Matt, a hockey player, and named you her maid of honor. Planning a wedding — not to mention showers and bachelorette festivities — would be far easier, and far more fun, with you in the same zip code. Since moving back six weeks ago, you’d spent about ninety percent of your time with Sydney by your side, making up for lost time with the woman who had long been your other half.

So sweet, right? There was just one problem. Sydney wouldn’t stop trying to set you up with guys. She was insistent that you’d been single for too long — you’d broken up with your college sweetheart by the end of your senior year — and she made it her mission for you to find love again. And she, on her own, was bad enough — she’d already hooked you up with so many friends of friends that you’d lost count, and none had been interesting enough for a second date — but her fiancé conspiring right along with her made resisting them that much more difficult.

This particular night, she had lured you to the home she shared with Matt under the guise of having dinner with her family, when in reality, she was throwing a Christmas dinner party for Matt’s closest friends on the team. All of whom had — and brought — significant others. Except for one. What a coincidence.

Also coincidentally, his name was Mat, too, or so you were told — you didn’t quite believe Syd’s Matt when he told you that upon introducing the two of you.

“Mat with one ’t,’” he announced, one arm slung around Mat’s shoulders. The handsome, dark-haired man swallowed thickly and gave you his best polite smile — it was in that moment that you realized beyond a shadow of a doubt this was yet another set up.

Matt made a lame excuse about needing to check on Sydney in the kitchen and snuck away after some brief pleasantries, but not before blatantly nudging your much-smaller frame toward New Mat. You gave Matt a menacing glare before recovering, standing a safe distance away from New Mat, leaning against the wooden beam behind you to keep you steady.

“So, Mat with one ’t,’ how long have you played with the ever-obnoxious Matty?” you asked, trying to play it cool.

Mat laughed easily. Damn, he had a nice laugh — the kind that made his pretty eyes crinkle at the corners. Nice hair. Nice teeth — perfect fucking teeth. Wasn’t he supposed to be a hockey player? Wait, what was he saying? Something about Seattle, and the draft, and… now you were lost. You nodded slowly with a forced smile as you tried your hardest to focus on what he was saying. He was just so goddamn pretty.

Thankfully, Sydney’s call from the kitchen saved you from the embarrassment of not having heard a word this poor boy had spoken.

“Dinner’s ready! I’m really type A, as you all know, so I made little placecards for everyone at the table,” she announced to the group of ten, hands clasped before her as Matt snaked an arm around her from behind and smiled proudly.

“Guess that’s our cue,” Mat mused. “Shall we?”

You threw him a grin and nodded, turning your back to him and making your way to the dining room.

On your way, you paused in front of your dear friend just long enough to grumble, “Assigned seats? Really, Syd?”

She clapped enthusiastically and smacked your ass as you passed her. “Yep! See you in there, champ!” she exclaimed as you heard frantic whispers exchanged between Mat and Matt. You couldn’t hold back your snicker, and as you glanced over your shoulder, Mat gave you a strained smile. You shook your head bemusedly and turned to the table to find that, to no one’s surprise, you and Mat were indeed to be seated side by side at one end of the table. You cleared your throat and nodded toward the cards bearing your names.

“Subtle, no?” you joked, causing Mat to blush pink. He choked out, “Ah, yeah. You gotta love them.” Then, he pulled out your chair and motioned for you to take a seat, which, as luck would have it, Sydney and Matt caught just in time because they were bringing in the food on serving dishes at that very moment. Their eyes sparkled and Sydney looked like she may self-destruct out of sheer joy as you sat down and thanked Mat. You gave her an icy look and she visibly retreated, holding herself back from making a complete scene.

“Okay, dig in!” she said instead as she sat down across from you.

Dinner was incredible, as usual — while your talents lacked in the cooking area, Sydney had always been an outstanding chef. Even more, you enjoyed the conversation, which was mostly inclusive of everyone at the table, save for the occasional chirp Mat secretly muttered in your ear about Matt or Anders, making you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle as Sydney looked on smugly. Meanwhile, whenever you and Sydney would say the exact same thing at the same moment or finish the other’s sentence, Mat would look to Marty, who would only raise his eyebrows and nod, confirming Mat’s suspicion that these two were always this in sync. Mat found it endearing. He adored Syd — if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have agreed to come here tonight when she told him, “There’s someone I want you to meet…” — and already, he saw countless similarities in the two of you.

After he’d helped you clear the plates and load the dishwasher for your hosts, you and Mat settled onto a couch in the farthest corner of the living room, near the Christmas tree, while the others gathered in the center of the space, loudly entertaining themselves. As you curled your feet underneath yourself, you didn’t miss how Sydney reached for a nearby remote and slowly flickered on the fireplace right beside you and Mat. Yet again, you shot her a killer look that she pretended not to see as Mat smiled, amused at how flustered you were by Sydney trying to further set the mood.

“So how long have you known Syd?” he asked as he took another swig from his beer bottle, attempting to get you back on track. “Has to be a while. I swear I’ve never seen two friends who were more alike.”

You tucked some hair behind your ear and let out a breathy chuckle. With anyone else, you were ever prepared to skirt that question and quickly move on to another subject. But with Mat, it was nice knowing you really didn’t have to.

“Yeah, my whole life, actually,” you answered, a smile on your face at the thought. Your eyes flickered up to his as you added, “My dad played for the Jets... with Boomer while he was there.”

Mat’s brows quirked noticeably, but not in the familiar way that made you feel like he was about to ask you to FaceTime your dad or get an autograph from him. Because he was a professional athlete himself — which was ironic because you’d sworn up and down your whole life that, because of the lifestyle you saw your dad and his teammates, not to mention their families, lead, you’d never fall for anyone who played sports for a living. Even when Sydney insisted with a shrug after settling down with Matt, “It’s not that bad.”

“No way,” Mat said with a casual laugh. “That’s awesome. What position did he play?”

“Uh, receiver,” you replied. “So he and Boomer were tight. Our moms hit it off right off the bat and have been best friends since. Since then, we’ve always vacationed together, ended up living in the same neighborhood after they both retired. I’m three years younger than Syd and I was basically like her shadow. Still am, I guess,” you added with a smile.

Mat nodded, his eyes never leaving your face as you told the familiar tale. “I think that’s awesome though,” he spoke. “You guys could be sisters I feel like. You act just like her. Plus Marty says you’re the only friend of hers who’s kicked him out of bed so you could sleep with her.”

You threw a hand to your chest and your head back laughing at that, and Mat’s heart soared at being able to elicit such a reaction from you himself. You pointed a gold-polished index finger at him and admitted, “He tells no lies on that one.”

Just then, you caught Mat’s unabashed gaze, which had shifted from well-mannered and nonchalant into something deeper, something... affectionate. You swallowed, casting a downward glance at your lap, and swirled the ice cubes in your otherwise empty highball glass.

“I need a refill,” you said with a nervous giggle. “You want anything?”

Mat looked all too pleased with himself at your offer, and he nodded. “Sure, yeah, another beer would be great. Thank you,” he said. You smiled and nodded as you turned away and headed for the kitchen.

Ever the subtle one, once again, Sydney, who had been shamelessly watching the two of you from her perch in Matt’s lap across the room, stumbled over Jax’s paw as she bolted to the kitchen island where you now stood. You blinked at her wildly and said, “May I help you, Sydney Irene? You nearly wounded your poor dog.”

“So,” Sydney sang, ignoring your question completely as she leaned back against the kitchen counter, propping her palms on the edge and looking much more smooth than she had just a moment ago. She waggled her eyebrows at you before continuing. “Whadd’ya think? He’s cute, right?”

You scoffed. “Sydney—“ you began in a warning tone as you reached for the rum, but were interrupted before you could speak another word.

“If you hate him, it was Matt’s idea,” she deadpanned, then allowed a mischievous grin to stretch along her painted red lips as she cocked her head. “But if you like him, it was mine.”

You rolled your eyes as you poured yourself another rum ginger, ignoring the flush you could feel creeping up your chest and neck under Sydney’s scrutiny.

“You’re blushing! You do like him!” Syd squealed as she poked at your side, thankfully making an attempt to stay quiet as the guys, Mat included, carried on noisy shenanigans in the family room before you.

“Sydney, stop! I just met him,” you tried to argue, turning away from her. It was Sydney’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Like that matters. I fell for Matt like—“ she snapped her fingers for dramatic effect, “—that. And look at us now.”

You pursed your lips to the side. You couldn’t exactly argue that. With no quick comeback coming to mind, you stirred your drink, took three generous gulps — as Sydney watched, wide-eyed — and licked your lips before sighing at her.

“Well, fine,” you grumbled as you opened the fridge and grabbed a fresh beer for Mat. “Let’s not keep the boy waiting then.” You sashayed away from your friend who, spinning away from you, quickly squeezed her eyes shut and crossed her fingers before turning back and following behind you.

Mat thanked you profusely for the drink as you returned to him. Now he sat among his teammates, and Sydney sat back in Matt’s lap as you took the seat beside Mat on the opposite couch. You noticed how he immediately leaned back and comfortably stretched his arm across the cushion behind you, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t inch a little closer then. It briefly occurred to you that you were drawn to him in the very same way you’d been drawn back home not long ago.

He felt like home. Already.

And soon, after a few hours more of merrymaking, Mat never leaving your side, the other couples had all headed for home. You four who remained had played several rounds of euchre and sang and danced to half a dozen Christmas carols before you realized how late it was. Knowing you’d had too much rum and wouldn’t be fit to drive, you’d already established that you’d stay in Sydney’s guest room — or maybe kick Matt out of the master. Regardless, you were staying put. But Mat, reluctantly, was leaving — the boys had practice in the morning.

“I guess I should go,” Mat sighed after a long round of goodbyes. Matt and Sydney gave him one last hug and retreated to the far side of the spacious room, aiming, of course, to leave the two of you to your own goodbye.

You nodded. “I guess you should,” you said, caught off guard by the twinge of sadness in your tone. “I’ll walk you out.” Mat smiled and turned toward the front door, and your heart truly may have skipped an actual beat when he glanced back at you and reached his hand out for you to grab. You did so, biting down on your smiling bottom lip as you followed him down the hall into the entryway, acutely aware that, if Sydney and Matt were indeed watching — of which you had no doubt — they could still clearly see you.

But when Mat pulled on his shoes and stood up straight again, stepping slowly, so slowly, closer to you, all you could think about was how hard your heart was thumping against your ribcage. You looked up at him in anticipation, and he smoothed his hands down the sleeves of your sweater softly.

“I had a really, really nice time tonight, you know,” Mat spoke. You had to remind yourself to breathe as the sincerity of his voice flooded your senses and his warm, honey-flecked eyes pierced through you. “Tonight was honestly the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

You beamed — how could you not? “Yeah?” you asked incredulously. Mat nodded.

“Yeah. In fact,” he cleared his throat. “I was wondering if maybe, uh, you’d want to go to dinner with me sometime. Like maybe this Sunday night, after we play?”

You felt yourself grinning like an idiot, yet had no control.

“Yeah,” you finally answered. “Yes. Of course. I’d love that.”

Mat blew out a long breath and chuckled nervously. “Thank God,” he added as you both dissolved into a fit of giggles. You stepped closer to him and smelled his clean, woodsy cologne, inadvertently breathing it in. Mat came nearer, too, and tentatively reached his hands around to your lower back. “It’s a date then,” he spoke, his voice lower now, gravelly. You swallowed — hard — and gave a nod.

“It’s a date,” you echoed.

You simply stood in one another’s presence for a few long moments, smiling giddily at each other, before Mat sighed once more and glanced toward the door.

“I really don’t wanna go, but I—“

“No! Syd, just leave them be,” Matt suddenly whispered sharply to his fiancé — who seemed to have literally leapt up from the couch — though there was no point in whispering at all because you still heard him loud and clear. Jumping up behind Sydney, Matt easily wrapped her in his arms and clapped his hand over her mouth just as she started to speak.

After wrestling for control of Matt’s hand, she finally pulled it away just long enough to call out, “You’re under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss already!”

With one final “shush!”, Matt covered her mouth once more, though his entire body was wracking with silent laughter.

“Goodnight, kids!” Matt said tersely as he all but manhandled Sydney down the opposite hallway into their bedroom, the two of them erupting with laughter the second they closed the door.

You rolled your jaw and looked above you and Mat to find that, yes, indeed, there hung a very Sydney-like crystal ornament adorned with glittery mistletoe, suspended from the archway.

“Un-fucking-believable,” you muttered, resting your head against Mat’s chest as you both laughed anxiously.

But a moment later, Mat’s voice rumbled in his chest. “Hey...” he spoke. You took that as your invitation to look up at him, and when you did, you found him gazing at you even more tenderly than he had before.

“I mean, since there’s mistletoe and all.. would it be okay if I kissed you?” he asked. His hand found your cheek and you grasped his fingers in your own.

“Well,” you began, leaning further into him. “Only since there’s mistletoe.”

Mat breathed a chuckle and whispered, “Okay, good,” before his lips found yours in a toe-curling, snow-melting, heart-growing, hell of a Christmas movie kiss that you both found yourselves smiling into by the end.

“Wow,” was somehow all you could whisper when you finally pulled away for air.

“Yeah,” Mat agreed simply. “Wow.”

“It worked!” You heard the muffled squeal from behind Sydney’s closed door.

You rolled your eyes once again, hating Sydney in that moment, as Mat snickered and leaned in for another kiss.

Little did you know that a few years later, your dear, meddling Sydney would stand up at your side in front of a ballroom filled with your and Mat’s family and dearest friends and proudly tell the story of that cold late-December night when your love story with Mat began.

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 2x07 Review

The Field Trip was a campy ep that recaptured some of the charm of S1. Let’s dig in!

S2 has often struggled with taking itself too seriously but finally we got some good campy fun that reminded me of why S1 was so great. North High finally come into their own as villains. The Howie reveal was very well done, poor Kourtney inadvertently being the source of the leaks. I can’t tell if Antoine’s accent is bad on purpose or not but he was funny tonight when he dragged Big Red and I loved how forward he was with Ashlyn. It’s good that the trio of new characters finally feel like they’re part of a larger plot rather than being somewhat random additions to the cast.

Lily continues to act like she’s on Glee which is exactly the right energy for the role. The stick to the stuff you know line was great as was Seb’s bop to the top retort. North High clearly won the dance off though Gina being in a skirt limited her. Lily was doing it with bad intentions but she was absolutely right that the rose song was a dig at Ricky and didn’t fit the musical and that they’d be disqualified for performing it. Miss Jenn should have already known they’d be disqualified for adding it and Ricky should have already been able to tell that the song was about him. I think it’s more and more likely that Lily is the party crasher who Ricky re-evaluates in 2x12 and she could well be the unexpected face time call he gets in 2x10.  

It took 7 eps but we finally got an ep where Gina wasn’t upset over Ricky and thank god for that; the constant angst was sucking the life out of her plot. Of course, the reason she wasn’t going through it is because she was spending her time with EJ. I think this ep should put to rest any notion of Portwell just being platonic. Some people are still clinging to Matt’s interview where he refers to EJ and Gina as friends but he was clearly being misleading, even if nothing else happens it’s clear that Gina is not just a friend to EJ. I’ve seen people try and claim that Gina and EJ are like siblings with each other or that they’re practically related because Gina is roommates with EJ’s cousin as if there’s some sort of Westermarck effect by proxy but family members don’t pretend to be dating. 

The morning show was a lot of fun and the fake dating was cute. In contrast to the last time they fake dated back in 1x05 we can see how much happier and more comfortable they are with each other now. Notably they had EJ circle back to it well after it happened which led to Gina’s line about everything going back to normal which is a tell that everything has not gone back to normal for them. We can see EJ’s inherent goofiness shining through with the Risotto inside joke they now have. Much like Joshaya on GMW there are valid reasons to not go ahead with the ship, although Portwell doesn’t have the creepiness or borderline illegality of Joshaya, but the chemistry between the characters is real and can’t be ignored. 

Rini hurtles towards a breakup which could come as soon as next ep. Hard to tell if Ricky was in denial or just too stupid to understand the songs meaning. I'd prefer the former since a 17 year old would have to lack basic comprehension skills to not understand that the lyrics were a thinly veiled attack on him.

Nini trying to claim it was just a song at the end was disingenuous, she didn’t want Ricky to hear it for a reason. Her deciding to use her given name Nina for her music account is obviously meant to symbolize her independence from Ricky since he first gave her that nickname back in the first grade. However, it makes Ricky seem like some malign influence on her basically her entire life when it’s not like he forced her to go by Nini or prevented her from going back to Nina during the 10 odd years of their friendship/relationship together.

Miss Jenn and Zachie were fun but such a risk on his part to steal the mask, that’s trespassing and theft and a sure disqualification not to mention the very real risk of being criminally charged. The door is now closed on Jike and Jachie and the path for Jazarra is open.

Rouge Grand was funny but I hope this Redlyn angst isn’t dragged out too long. 

Mob song wasn’t good, the skrillex beat drop was not needed. Around You was good though. I just noticed that Tim abandoned, or was forced to by covid, his plan to have 3 songs per ep instead of 2 which is for the best I think. 

Looking Ahead:

Looks like next week will be a big one for Portwell and EJ in general. We get Gaston, career day with EJ’s dad, and then EJ hanging with Gina and helping her knit which is very domestic. I’d bet if you showed that clip of them knitting to someone who had never seen the show  they’d assume the character were dating. So it looks like Mr. Caswell has bought EJ’s way into Duke which is no longer EJ’s dream, if it ever was.

As I said last week, there’s a clear path forward for Portwell to get together in the season finale and next ep will probably take a big step towards making it happen. We have the chemistry, we’ve gotten moments between them, and we know EJ’s feelings, we just need Gina to recognize her budding feelings for EJ. I think Gina running into Jack at the airport in 2x09 will help her clear her head on what she wants and a part of that will be whether she still wants to try and be with Ricky or does she want to take a chance with EJ.

Obviously S3 will almost certainly leave Portwell in the dust in order to do Rina for a bit which will piss off a lot of fans but Tim’s screwed himself over here; there’s really no way that this series ends without a large chunk of the audience being bitterly disappointed over who’s endgame. Love triangles are a done to death trope but they typically involve some minor characters who can written off once the triangle is over, not main characters who have to be in every ep no matter what. 

More Redlyn angst next week as well as the wildcats being benched for a week due to trespassing at North High. 

A lot of people think that the show is having Nini get into songwriting because of Olivia’s success but the scripts would have been written before she released Driver’s License and shot to stardom. She’s also still contracted for two more seasons though she’d clearly leave before that if Disney would let her. 

The Rini treehouse scene could well be the breakup, gotta go my own way would fit well if that’s the case. This is another area where Tim needs to tread carefully. He can’t have Rini hate each other or avoid each other for the remaining 20 odd eps of the series but also can’t fully close the door on them since he’ll almost certainly have Rini be endgame as they graduate from East High at the end of S4. 

At this point it seems pretty unrealistic that East High would win the Menkies but this is a tv show so who knows. There’s one big song left that would work for some of the couples they, Something There, which could work for Portwell, Howell, or Rina so we’ll see if we get it.

2x07 marks the last of the clips we saw in the original S2 trailer so we’re largely flying blind now.

Until next week wildcats. 

[sepublic]

Bessie & MicroAngelo!

           THEY KILLED THE KING OF DEMONS AAAGGGGHHHH-

           In all seriousness, that King cameo is GREAT, and especially in reference to magic as well! Too bad magic just isn’t Anne’s thing, alas… And honestly, I think King would lowkey be flattered to be paid tribute like this; Or high-key, he’s not one for subtlety! But let me tell you, Bernardo was serving LOOKS here; Even if they didn’t fit her, that last suit of golden beetle armor was just… SSSOOOO GOOOD! I know I keep saying it, but Amphibia really manages to land its armor design, it rubs just about everything I love, it’s sleek and ornate… First the Newt guards, and now Anne’s armor! Satisfyingly, it’s from THAT armor that Anne chooses her simple cuirass… But again, that armor is a LOOK, it gives me pure serotonin just looking at, it’s just so COOL and hits all the right spots, the perfect balance between what I like- It’s just GOOD! It just hits right, there’s a certain Je ne sais quoi to it, a distinct style and fashionable, yet sleek and slender and functional, design to it!

           Whoever designs armor and in general outfits for Amphibia, I want to shake your hand…! And I guess Bernardo’s, in-universe and all. He might seem a bit snobby, but he respects and appreciates Anne’s minimalist approach, so I must respect HIM for that as well!

           Oh yeah, we’ve also got Bessie and MicroAngelo… Admittedly, this thread kind of took a backseat for Anne’s fashion show and character development, but I still enjoyed it! I love how droopy Bessie’s design is, and I like that MicroAngelo isn’t just some one-off character for a gag, who inexplicably disappears; Things DO change, the status quo is upended, and the family is growing even bigger! Seeing Anne’s photo tacked onto Bessie’s family photo made my heart melt, and then the MicroAngelo drawing too…!

           Anne wanting to stick to her normal design says a lot about her character, applies to it in very meta ways, etc. She’s the simple, humble one- The one with ties back home, while Marcy and Sasha seem the ones most likely to stay in Amphibia for their own reasons… Marcy for escapism, Sasha for power; And both don’t really show anything else to go back home to! Obviously we don’t get the chance because there’s not as much focus to suggest family… But everything about Sasha screams a toxic family, and Marcy admits to being more or less alone back on earth.

           Anne is the one who remembers her past and cultural ties, she’s got that ‘human’ connection, moreso than her other human friends. And, I love the commentary on her learning to appreciate herself, now that she’s accepted her own faults and mistakes, taking accountability for them as a part of who she is; But still finding hope in herself, that kind of beauty… But also, that makeover montage and the IMPLICATIONS of it was great, and hilarious! However, I do have to wonder if like, the makeovers by Sasha and Marcy are also lowkey symbolic of them having some control over Anne, putting her into a role for their sake… Anne as Marcy’s protector, and as Sasha’s best friend…

           It’s neat to see her acknowledge her lack of clothing change compared to the rest, but how Anne still owns up to it! And yeah, she can wear armor, not just for practicality, but I think because she no longer has to worry about who she is, Anne recognizes that part of herself, so she can freely experiment and play around with it a bit more, while still clearly staying true to herself. I like Anne, it seems she’s always had self-image issues, felt like there was something wrong with herself, that she needed to change and be a chameleon for the sake of others…

           But, she’s begun to learn to be herself more; She learned to acknowledge the good… And with Valeriana’s help, Anne ALSO acknowledged the bad and ugly parts of her as well! She’s fully seen and recognized the entirety of herself, her true self… And this of course means self-acceptance! And small detail, but I love Anne being able to engage in self-reflection through Frobo, it’s adorable and neat how he’s more part of the family and helping Anne with this kind of soul-searching, I like it!

           I like Anne learning to come to terms with herself and accept that, so she can change and improve; And I have to wonder if that contrasts to Marcy and Sasha, who both play roles, perhaps in the wish that they could be someone they’re not… Marcy wanting to be cool and charming, Sasha wanting to be powerful and in control? Anne doesn’t play pretend, she knows who she is, she has the Courage to recognize that. She faced her greatest and most terrifying opponent, herself- Something the others haven’t done so yet, and fitting, for the bravest of the trio! Anne knows who she is and so even if she does add to herself and change, she still clearly retains that connection and memory to her old self, as guidance and consideration for where she came from…

           All in all, a fascinating episode! On the surface just cute hjinx for side-characters, but dig a bit deeper to the TRUE appearance, like Anne, and you get to see the culmination of Anne’s development across two-thirds of the entire show, more or less! I like this talk of self-image and acceptance, and I think it’s neat, especially with how Matt Braly mentioned taking inspiration from his own grandmother’s hair, and how this kind of big, poofy hair in Asians is not something you see a lot! You go, Anne, you go; You’re your OWN F-Anne now, your biggest one, and not even a toxic fan, either! You see and accept and engage healthily with yourself, recognize the flaws, and work with them… Good for you!

[im-definitely-not-trash]

Here’s day three, thankfully on time. :) I tried to do less dialogue because my stories usually rely on dialogue a lot and I wanted to try something different.

Prompt #3: “Who did this to you?”

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

TW: referenced self-harm, infected injuries

Word count: 1536

Lance and Pidge were chilling playing video games. As they laughed at a characters death, Lance elbowed Pidge’s left arm playfully. She winced, quietly enough no one would hear, but Lance saw her face scrunch up in pain. He dropped the controller and pulled up her sleeve to her shoulder, Pidge protesting the whole time, trying to wiggle away. There were three long scratches on her upper arm, scabbed over and starting to scar, but Lance could see that they had been deep.

“Who did this to you?” he asked.

Pidge went quiet, shuffling away and pulling her sleeve down. Then she just stood up and walked out of the closet. Lance called after her, but she didn’t listen.

~~~

Over the next few days, Lance noticed that Pidge was treating him differently. She was fine around literally everyone else, but she hung out with Kosmo more than him. It was as if he’d done something to offend her, not worrying about her and what happened to her arm.

He tried several times to confront her again, wanting to find out why she was treating him like a disease and also to figure out what had happened and who had done it. But every time, she just ignored him and locked herself in her room so he couldn’t get to her.

Lance considered talking to Shiro about it, but ultimately decided against that. He wouldn’t have a clue what was going on. So he decided to leave her alone until she came back to be friends again.

~~~

His waiting time was cut short after about a week when Pidge showed up to breakfast looking exhausted and kind of green. She left her arm hanging by her side while she ate breakfast goo with her right hand. Her hand shook as she ate and Lance had to bite his tongue to not mention it in front of everyone. But after she excused herself without eating even half of her bowl, he knew something was way worse than it was before and he couldn’t just leave her to her own devices anymore.

He followed her out of the kitchen and snuck into her room with her (what a mess). She went into her bathroom, and Lance tried to watch through the crack in the door and the mirror what she was doing.

Pidge pulled her arm out of her sleeve, biting her lip to avoid making noise as tears spilled over. The three cuts in her arm had seemingly grown bigger, and they were discolored and oozing. Lance couldn’t take it anymore. He threw the door open, making Pidge jump.

“Come on, Pidge, who in the quiznak did this to you?? I’m going to kill who did this, I can’t believe anyone would hurt you! And why didn’t you ask for help at all?! It’s been at least a week that you’ve been hurt, and I know you haven’t said anything to anyone, and it’s pissing me off!”

Pidge was sobbing now, lightly grabbing her arm to curl up in a ball.

“Pidgey, I want to help you! Everyone does! Who did this?! We can’t just let someone like this to roam free to hurt anyone else. Just tell m—”

Pidge cried. “It was me!”

Lance shut up very quickly.

“You?” he asked in a whisper.

The tears wouldn’t stop streaming. “It distracts me, and I didn’t mean for it to get this bad, but I can’t stop thinking about Matt and my dad and my mom whenever Zarkon is going to make his way to Earth to hurt her and anyone else, and I can’t keep pretending that I’m not worried because I am but if I was worried, it would distract me from being a Paladin and so I needed to distract myself from getting distracted and when I distracted myself by my own terms it made it easier to fulfill my tasks as a Paladin, but it got bad and now I don’t know what to do because I can’t let anyone know and I’m still upset that you know and—”

“Pidge.”

She shook while looking at Lance. “What?”

The way her voice sounded, crackly and tired, made Lance want to cry too.

“We can help you. You don’t have to keep anything a secret from us. We can find other ways to distract you to focus, if that’s what you really need. But please, please, don’t hurt yourself as a distraction.”

Pidge sat stiff for a second, then just broke down crying again. Lance gathered her into a hug, carefully avoiding her arm.

“Can I tell the others, please?”

Pidge shook her head.

“Then can you tell them?”

She shook her head more frantically.

“They need to know, Pidgey.”

Her voice was muffled in Lance’s shirt. “They’ll think I’m not a real Paladin. I’m not worthy for it.”

“Shut the quiznak up, Pidge, you just told me you were doing this to be able to focus in the first place! And apparently it worked, at least until recently because of the infection. Now, call me a psychopath, but I’m glad the cuts got infected.”

Pidge went quiet again, stifling her sobs, but still shaking against Lance.

“Pidge, can we at least tell Coran? We need to treat the cuts.”

She was silent for a minute, then finally said, “Okay.”

“Okay. Good.”

Lance felt her grab onto him. “Can we stay here for a minute though?” she asked.

“Of course.”

~~~

When she told other Paladins as a group, they refrained from smothering Pidge because they could see how ashamed she was. But that didn’t stop them from individually going to talk to her.

Hunk was the first who showed up. He knocked on her door and came in when invited. They talked for a long time, Hunk telling her he somewhat knew how she felt but he wasn’t invalidating her experience. He asked if making foods from home would help, or make it worse, and she laughed, saying it would help and be delicious. His helpful distraction was food.

Allura showed up next. Once invited in, she simply asked if she could give Pidge a hug, and they sat together for a while. They talked about random things while always touching, and made plans for just the two girls to follow through with, no boys allowed. Allura’s helpful distraction was physical comfort.

Coran came in without permission, but he thought it was okay because it’s technically his castle. He joked with Pidge about anything he could think of, and sincerely asked where milkshakes came from if not from Kaltenecker herself. Pidge laughed at almost anything he said, and tried her hardest to explain how cows (and mammals in general) work. Coran’s helpful distraction was his natural humor.

Lance had already gone in several times, in between everyone, trying to not leave Pidge alone. If she wasn’t alone, she’d be distracted. Pidge understood the real reason why he was spending so much time with her, to prevent her from going back to her unhealthy distraction, but she appreciated it anyway. They played card and video games, talked, had spa nights, and did basically anything at anytime. His helpful distraction was quality time.

Keith came in and just sat on her desk while she sat on her bed. Pidge occupied herself messing with some gadget, and Keith awkwardly sat, waiting for the right moment. When he finally started talking, Pidge almost jumped. He explained how after he was left alone, sometimes his mind would run wild and he wasn’t able to focus on surviving. Even in the space cadet program at the Garrison, he had to distract himself so he could focus on being a pilot. He had chosen the same way, and he thought for sure that it was helping. Keith showed her his scars on the back of his wrists and the inside of his elbow. He told her how he lost sleep over it because his arms always hurt and his attitude got worse until he got kicked out. He had to distract himself more to avoid thinking about how disappointed Shiro would be and how he would live by himself. It wasn’t until he had gotten invested in finding what turned out to be the Blue Lion that he had stopped. He offered his help in the way that she could ask for literally anything, help cleaning her room, someone to talk to, anything that he didn’t have in that period. Keith’s helpful distraction was himself.

Shiro was the last to confront Pidge about anything. And confront her he did. He didn’t offer any distraction, only a listening ear so she could face what was always on her mind. Shiro understood more than anyone, because he was with Matt and her dad, and he left someone on Earth. And because of how he knew that, he knew that she needed to face it as well as distract when it was appropriate. He was helpful by not offering her a distraction.

And with all of these people around her, so willing to help, Pidge knew she’d be okay and she’d be able to work harder and in turn, defeat the Galra.

She can do it.

[ssa-dg]

Undercover Part 1

part 1, part 2

Overview: the BAU has gone undercover to find a potential unsub who has been drugging, raping and murdering women. It own becomes a potential victim. Having to play her part to catch the bad guy, you go to the party all dressed up and dance with a potential murderer all while pretending he is someone else, Spencer Reid.

TW: drugs, rape (it is mentioned how the unsub rapes his victims. the reader is drugged and the unsub takes advantage of her being drugged and begins to take off her dress), murder, sex, adult themes. if these types of things are triggering for you please don’t read. I’m just a average person who tried their best to not cause people to be upset. If this is problematic I’m sorry I didn’t mean for it to be and will take it down.

Relationship: Spencer Reid x (female)reader

word count: 3,384

Author’s note: so this is my first ever Criminal Minds story. If it garners enough attention I will do more parts (honestly even if it doesn’t I probably will lol) PSA: I have never been under the influence of MDMA and honestly I don’t judge if people who do it consensually and safely (which is harder said then done). this is how I imagine it to be like to be on it. Also I like writing and I like sharing my writing because all of the great fan fics that cause me happiness, if I can cause that reaction just to one person that’s enough for me

You would do anything to save the world. Maybe it was a hero complex, maybe it was some form of glory seeking, or maybe it was the only way you knew how to fill the dark abyss you felt when you did nothing of importance. Being a part of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, helped with that. Being on the team gave you everything you needed, a family and a way to save others. Maybe saying you love your job isn’t the correct way to explain your emotions but you knew no better way. Although you wish a job like this wasn’t necessary and didn’t even exist, it did.

Your team meant the world to you and you would contribute almost in any way to help find an unknown subject. So when Penelope Garcia was able to connect the killings in New York City to some private “rich people” clubs, her and the team created a plan to infiltrate.

The victimology was specific. It was all rich young women ranging from the ages 19-30 who just moved into the city to find themselves.

The profile was an easy one to figure out. He was obviously a troubled young white male who was probably an heir of some sort. He was richer than what most people think is rich. He usually meets the victim at a high society social event. Then he’d take them to a more exclusive social event. After that he would drug them with MDMA, rape and kill them.

It was hard for the BAU to get much out of the enclosed and tight group of New York’s most elite families. So going undercover at an event where the unsub could potentially hunt for prey was what made most sense. Your jobs was to observe the women and men there and try to see if any of you could fish out the unsub. 

They had done it in the past but usually they did their best work by watching and observing. So here the team was, their second night in a row all dolled up in fancy cocktail dresses at some art gallery. Tara Lewis and Luke Alves stood around a table pretending to talk to each other as they observed potential victims. Jennifer Jareau, Spencer Reid, and Matt Simmons stood at another end of the room checking for the potential unsub, while your unit chief, Emily Prentiss, and you were pretending to be alone at the event eavesdropping on rich families. You listened to those around you while also scanning the room looking for potential young white men talking to lone young women. “Ten o’clock to the creepy face painting,” you heard Alvez say in your small earpiece. You calmly turned pretending to look at the other art pieces and saw a white male in his mid-thirties walking up to a female. He placed his hand on her low back as he leaned in to talk to her. Emily being the closest nearby out of you two, moved closer acting like she was going for some hors d’oeuvres. “That’s not him. He’s too drunk. I can smell all the alcohol he has consumed. He would need to be smoother than that,” Emily whispered as she took a sip of her glass. That’s how most of the night went. We followed and stared at people who might be the unsub and then filed them out. You felt yourself losing hope. You hated this part of the job. The one that made you feel like the profile was wrong and you all would have to start over, which there was never time to start over. Someone could die. That’s when you felt a hand touch the small of your back, your body tensed up immediately. “Relax,” he whispered in your ear. But you didn’t need to force it, because when you turned to look at the person who touched you, you were met with the face of beauty and your body instantly relaxed. You knew this was a dangerous reaction, as would probably many of Ted Bundy’s victims.

The man before you had slicked back short dark hair, bright blue eyes, strong symmetry in his facial features, and strong cheek and jaw bones. He smiled wickedly at you, causing you to intake a sharp breath. It was so sinister but also so beautiful. It wasn’t the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen, no that was reserved for your teammate, best friend, and love of your life (even if he didn’t know it) Spencer Reid. Now, Spencer’s smile was one you could get lost in. You refocused yourself to the beautiful man in front of you. “They say the artist intended for this particular piece to show trauma while he was drinking. His other pieces are other emotions on different drugs,” his deep voice rattled through your ears. You wanted to unwrap yourself from this man’s embrace. How dare he touch you like that without your permission. “Play along,” Luke spoke as he saw a scowl beginning to form on your lips, “he could be the unsub.” You smoothed the scowl into a smile. “It doesn’t look like it depicts trauma,” you responded dumbly. The man before you cocked his head to the side giving you a lopsided smile. “I guess it all depends on how someone experiences trauma,” the smile now wicked, and scarier. A shiver went up your spine. “Are you cold?” He asked, noticing it, while looking you up and down like he could devour you. “No,” your voice came out scratchy as your throat went dry. You cleared it politely. “Just thinking-” “About your own trauma?” He asked. You could hear the fake tone of concern. That snapped you out of your fear. The pictures of all the murdered women that brought the BAU to this case flashed before your eyes. “Maybe,” the smile you plastered on your face was a one you knew he wanted, a sad smile. You were going to play this role like it’s no one's business because you were here to catch a bad guy and if flirting with a creep got you there then so be it. He leaned in closer to your ear, “my name is Alistair Constantine,” you immediately recognized the name. It was on the list of potential unsubs for the profile. His family’s money was old, going back to the revolutionary war. The family seemed to always be updating with the times and never losing that money. You leaned into his other ear and introduced yourself.

Spencer’s hands were clutched at his side as he watched you interact with the Constantine boy. He felt in his gut at this moment, Alastair was the unsub. The way he was looking at you, it was like you were a quest to conquer. Spencer knew he couldn’t just come up, break you two apart and blow the whole investigation but boy did he want to.

Alastair paraded you around the room.  Every now and then he would talk to fellow members of the society. It took everything in you to pretend that you didn’t want to beat his ass right then and there. You were always an imaginative kid growing up so you blocked out the gruesome pictures of the crime scenes and instead pretended this was your life a young New York woman getting special treatment from a handsome man. It was easier to fit the rom-com role then what was actually happening. Alistair stopped in front of a painting that was particularly psychedelic looking with bright pastel colors. “This is my favorite piece by the artist. This was when he was on Ecstasy. Look at the happiness and distorted-ness to the art. It’s amazing,” he gushed. It would have been odd that he picked this particular painting to attach too, but it was a strong tie to the method of his killings. “Humankind cannot bear very much of reality,” you spoke out, breaking Spencer from his thoughts about if they had enough information to convict Alistair for the murders. Alistair looked at you funny, not understanding why you would say that. “T. S. Eliot” you told Alistair while Spencer whispered it at the same time. a ghost of a smile playing on your lips when you heard Spencer’s voice. “It’s what I think of when I look at this art. T. S. Eliot is one of my favorite poets,” you blushed at your admission. It felt like for a second, with having just heard Spencer’s voice, that you were talking to him instead of Alistair. Spencer was now looking straight at you two. His eyes held bewilderment, he has known you for years and you never once mentioned this, and he knew you knew this was something he cared about. 

“Indeed,” Alistair yawned. 

The next 30 minutes was you telling him how you’d grown up in Boston, Massachusetts, that you had no close relatives anymore, and how when your parents died their life savings all went to you (all of it true), the lie came when it was to talk about why you moved to New York City, what you wanted to do with your life etc. And he ate it up every second. You played the roll of being the lonely damsel in a big city trying to find the answer to life. You were his ideal victim and you knew that he didn’t even question how perfect you were. 

The night ended with an invite to the society’s ball tomorrow night, and Prentiss fed your ear a fake address for Alistair to send a car to tomorrow. You ordered an Uber to the address where Emily said they’ll pick you up to not seem suspicious in case Alistair sent someone to follow you. Once at the address the FBI’s SUV pulled up and you got in. It was Spencer who picked you up, which was unusual, as he never liked driving. You climbed onto the passenger seat and saw his knuckles were white from the strength of his grip on the steering wheel. It didn’t take a profiler to know Spencer was mad. “Spencer, are you alright?” You approached with a soft whisper. There was a pause of silence, Spencer calculating if he should be honest. He eventually gave into the truth as he knew that he couldn’t hide it from you. “No,” he growled, the anger in his voice causing you to jump in surprise. “No, I am not okay. That man is a murderer and he was holding you in his arm! You two were practically dancing around the room in there. We have put you in danger and now, now you are his next target, his next victim!” he hit the wheel in anger. You had never seen Spencer this angry before. Most times when Spencer got angry, he got smart and he used his logic to fight but now he sounded emotional. “Spencer,” you raised your voice, “I am not a victim, I’m an agent. I will do what it takes to protect others. Just like you.” In anger Spencer swerved the car to the side and put it in park. “Dammit, You don’t get it,” he yelled and turned towards you. “If he is our unsub, which we both know he is, I’ve run the calculations and the risk is too high for you,” his hands flying everywhere in gestures, “There are too many dependent variables. There isn’t enough for us to control. The probability of you getting hurt or,” he stopped to collect himself, and in a quieter voice said, “or worse, it’s too high. I’ve run the math.” Now that sounded more like the Spencer you knew. A soft smile crept onto your lips, then you quickly neutralized your face, in hopes he wouldn’t see the way his concern for you made you feel. And You couldn’t do that to yourself. You couldn’t let yourself feel happiness when Spencer showed you affection, because it eventually just leads to heart break. Subconsciously, you turned more towards him in your seat, “In your math is there probability that we get this guy and he never gets the opportunity to hurt another woman again?” You asked. Spencer gave you a pained look like he knew where you were going. You countered that look with one that told him to answer the question. He let out a heavy sigh, “yes. There is that possibility.” You smiled at him knowing you won the argument, “That settles it then.”

With everyone back in the small conference room at the police station, the conversation began about what to do tomorrow. No one was pleased that one of their own is now the target but there was truth that the situation was now more in the BAU’s control than before. Everyone also believed in you. They knew the risk and that scared them but also you are a Special Advisory Agent for a reason. Relief did not fill you but neither did dread, when you thought of the plan. You were doing the right thing. It didn’t matter if you were going to put yourself in danger.

Spencer kept pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. Something that happened when he started to get headaches and you could guess this headache was caused by stress. As the rest of the team started packing up, you stared at your best friend hurting over the stress you were causing. You took a seat next to Spencer. He was still wearing his suit from the party. “We are going to be okay tomorrow,” you comforted him. He looked up at you, “I’m not worried about all of us, I’m worried about you,” he confessed. Once again, you knew these words shouldn’t have an effect on you like they did, but it did and this time there was something that felt hidden behind those words, something more. “I trust you not to let anything happen to me,” You countered and placed your hand on his forearm to comfort him. You looked in his eyes and tried to let him know that there is more than just trust there. 

The day of the ball, you got ready in the police station bathroom. It wasn’t exactly how you imagined to be getting ready for your first ball in New York City. You’d rather be wearing this gown for other reasons than going undercover to catch a murderer rapist. The Givenchy dress Garcia picked out was gorgeous (as you instructed her to get a designer to fit in the crowd and you would float the bill). It was a long evening dress in blue and green with a gradient-effect. The top had long puffed sleeves, deep V-neckline, and waist accentuated with smooth lamé and long flared skirt. You put your hair up in a loose low bun. The makeup you did was a smooth eye with long flair eyeliner. You put a heavy amount of glow highlighter on your cheek bones and collar bones to accentuate the deep v cut the dress. 

You felt ridiculous walking out of the bathroom into the police station wearing your dress. But the way Spencer looked at you was something powerful and intoxicating, making you forget your embarrassment. You strode up to him. A small smile played on your lips looking up at him. You saw him also smiling at you “You’re almost as tall as me,” he blurted out. You let out a small laugh, “‘I guess that’s what heels will do,” you smiled looking down at your feet. Spencer felt ridiculous that’s what he said. He should have told you how amazing you looked or how your beauty felt like the sun- always pulling him in and having his thoughts orbit around you. But he wasn’t good with voicing his feelings (especially in a room with his colleagues). 

“We are going to have Officer Melinda Jackson drive you over to the apartment, And stake out the car. She’ll be on the radio the whole time till you are in range with us. We will be at the Capitale when you get there.” Emily disclosed as she strapped on a microphone and earpiece.

You stepped out of the car with your head held high even though your anxiety was on another level. “i’m here,” you whispered. “We are here too,” Tara responded. Everyone disclosed where each one was to you. The venue was massive and beautiful. The ceiling was tall with ornate decorations. The lighting was a bright orangish glow. As you examined the room, checking each point of your team, you also saw Alistair. He was at the bar with what looked like to be a group of his friends. Spencer not too far behind them. You walked towards Alistair but kept your eyes on Spencer. He took your breath away dressed in a tux and his hair slicked back like he used to when he was younger. It felt like your heart was lit on fire just by looking at him all dressed up. He was staring at you intensely. It wasn’t that the world stopped the moment your eyes met his, but it was more like everything else just didn’t matter. You knew you’d have to look away soon to not give away anything but you took him in for just one more second. “You look amazing,” you heard a voice next to you say. You turned to see the ever good looking Alistair. He wore a navy 3 piece suite with a large Gucci tag on the sleeve, and a large Gucci flower pinned on his chest. You gave him a soft smile and returned his compliment. “I want to introduce you to my family. Their approval means everything,” he offered you his arm. You took it tentatively,  Spencer watched him lead you away, and he pondered on Alistair’s odd statement about family approval. 

Alistair’s family was everything you’d expect. They were proper and pompous. However they liked you, a lot. You fell right into the role you had to play. You stood there laughing and engaged in the conversation with his mom and cousin. 

“Shall we dance?” Alistair asked, giving you his hand, as your conversation with his sister came to an end. You nodded and let him take you to the dance floor. 

He spun you out and brought you back in close to start the dancing. You gave him a bright smile at his eccentric action. You closed your eyes and let your mind pretend it was Spencer holding you. You followed his lead as he twirled you both around the dance floor. “Stop dancing, we can’t see you,” Spencer frantically said into your ear piece. You snapped your eyes open. Taking in that you were on a secluded corner of the dance floor by an exit door. “You are special. My family, They like you” Alistair said with a sense of manic to it. “you aren’t like the others,” he admitted. His voice sounded different. It was sinister with a tinge of adoration. He pulled you close, so close that his fingers dug into your hand and back. You felt like your brain was freezing up in fear. How many times had you been in fear inducing situations and why did your brain pick now to not work. “you’re hurting me,” you groaned trying to pull yourself away. “Where are you” JJ yelled but then you felt mist hit you, and your mind begin to make things fuzzy, “the left corner, the spray…in the flower,” you breathed out, hoping the team could hear you. You heard a rattle of commands to your co-workers from Emily. Then it went black.

Spencer rushed through the crowd to find you but by the time he got to the corner you told him you were at, you were gone. “She’s not here,” Spencer panicked into the ear piece. “I just saw a black Tesla leave, license plate delta, alpha, hotel nine, one, two ” Luke informed them. “Call and ask them to run it”, Rossi said urgently. “on it,” Luke replied. “JJ and Reid, go talk to the mom and sister, Tara and Matt split up and talk to his friends and the other family members. They have to know where they are,” Emily demanded

[calligraphist-artemisia]

This Could Be the Start of Something

Written for the Kidge Spring Event!

Prompt 4: Rose or Carnation | Free Day

Summary: AU - Canon Divergence. Pidge hears the sound of voices late one night and creeps downstairs to investigate. Who would have thought that would lead her to a new friend?

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

Katie felt as though she had only just laid her head down to go to sleep, soothed by the sound of her father reading a bedtime story, when all at once she was wide awake. She laid in bed, mystified over the reason why she was no longer asleep and was about to close her eyes when she heard an unfamiliar voice coming from downstairs.

As quietly as she could, Katie slipped out of bed and padded across her room, gently pushing the door open so she could hear more clearly. Maybe it was just her parents listening to TV? They usually turned it down for the night, but it could be that they forgot. She held her breath as she listened, picking up first on the voice of the stranger and then, a little more clearly, her father responding.

There was someone else in the house!

But why? It was so late at night. They never got visitors that late!

Katie looked down the hall at her brother's room, wondering if she should go and wake him up, but quickly decided against it. Matt could be kind of grumpy when she woke him up before he was ready. He'd probably think she was being silly.

She would just have to solve the mystery on her own.

She crept down the hall to the stairs and slowly made her way down, listening all the while to make sure none of the grown-ups were moving around. It sounded like they were in the kitchen, which was perfect for her because she could even look in from the window cut-out at the bottom of the stairs and see who was there without getting seen herself. (She and Matt had practiced a few times to get the angle right, so she was pretty sure she could do it.)

Katie stayed close to the wall and very slowly moved into position until she could see her mom and dad, as well as a strange man with dark hair all sitting around the kitchen table. She listened for a moment to try and figure out what they were talking about, but it all sounded kind of boring and adultish.

She was about to turn around and go back upstairs when her mother said: “Travis, I wish there was some way we could help you and Keith, but we're too much in the public eye to take him in if anything were to happen.”

Keith? Who was Keith? Why would they need to “take him in”?

Katie tried to see more into the kitchen and find out if there was anyone else in there with them but wasn't able to see anything else from where she was. It would be risky, but she would have to crawl beneath the window and peer around the wall instead.

The question was: was it worth the risk of getting caught?

Katie took a minute or so to decide and eventually figured it was worth taking a chance. What was the worst that would happen if she got spotted? Maybe a brief lecture while her mom took her back upstairs?

She was about to make her move when she heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. She froze in place, her heart beating hard in her ears, as she heard a quiet, indistinct voice ask... well, something that she couldn't make out, followed by her mom saying: “It's just up the stairs, dear. First door on the left.”

Katie nearly tripped over her feet as she turned and hurried back up the steps, avoiding the spots she knew would creak and alert her parents. She probably wouldn't be fast enough to avoid being seen by whoever was coming up the stairs, but if she was in bed and pretending to sleep, then no one could prove that she'd been up. (She felt only slightly bad about lying, but it wasn't like it was a bad lie! She wasn't hurting anyone. She just didn't want to get lectured.)

She made it to her room and began to shut the door, but at the last minute left it open just enough that she could see who was coming upstairs.

It turned out to be someone who looked to be around her age, wearing a sweater with a deep hood that obscured their face from view. They stopped at the top of the stairs and looked to the left where the bathroom was located and then, as if they could sense that Katie was watching, looked directly at her door.

Their eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, not unlike a cat.

Katie held her breath for a moment, wondering what they would do next, and was somewhat disappointed when they continued on to the bathroom and shut the door.

What next?

Her curiosity was far from satisfied – she still didn't know if they were the “Keith” mentioned by her parents or why they would need to take him in. Why were they visiting so late at night? And what was with wearing a hood while inside?

There was only one way she would be getting answers to those questions and that was by asking, so Katie opened her door and took one step into the hall, where she waited for them to leave the bathroom. She wouldn't stop them if they didn't want to talk, though she'd be really disappointed if they went back downstairs without saying anything to her.

She stood up a little straighter when she heard the toilet flush and then the sink turn on. Nearly a minute later, all sound stopped and the door opened.

“H-hi!” Katie squeaked, suddenly overcome by nerves.

They stopped and stared at her. “Why are you watching me?”

“I'm sorry!” Katie blurted out. “I didn't mean to! I heard voices and I was curious... Mom and dad don't get visitors this late. I, um, I'm Katie.”

They seemed to relax a little at her response. “I'm Keith.”

So he was Keith. That was one mystery solved, but she still had so many questions! Katie fidgeted, not wanting to blurt them all out at once and scare him away. She'd heard other kids in her class talk about it enough, sometimes saying it directly to her face, and she knew she needed to slow down and give others the chance to understand what she was saying, but it was hard!

“I should go back,” Keith said, though he made no move towards the stairs.

It struck Katie as odd at first, but then she wondered if he was just as curious about her. “Or you could stay here,” she blurted out. “With me. We can talk. Or play a game. Or... I mean, we could just hang out. It would be kind of like a sleepover, but not at the same time. I don't know. I've never had one. I mean, I've got Matt, but he's my brother so that doesn't really count, you know?”

“Uh...”

Katie sheepishly ducked her head, feeling the warmth of a blush spread across her face. “Sorry, I know I talk a lot. You don't have to stay here with me.”

“I've never had a sleepover either,” he said, much to her surprise. “I don't think... I'm not allowed to. I should go downstairs.”

Thinking quickly, Katie said: “But if your dad's asking my mom and dad to take care of you, then that means you're allowed to have sleepovers with me!”

Keith tilted his head to one side as he mulled over what she'd just said. “Maybe? It's just... I'm not... I'm not normal.”

“You look normal to me,” Katie said with a dismissive shrug.

When she looked back on that night years later, Katie would always identify that statement as the one that truly paved the way towards a momentous friendship capable of withstanding any hardships thrown its way. At the time, however, it was just a single step towards getting to know the mysterious boy who was a little lonely, just like her.

Keith joined her in her room, where they sat on the plush rug in the very center, and Katie showed off the glow-in-the-dark stars that were plastered all over the ceiling. To her delight, Keith recognized some of the constellations that her dad had painstakingly mapped out, and was even able to name them!

“My dad takes me out to go stargazing sometimes,” Keith admitted shyly.

“You can't tell anyone, but sometimes me and Matt go sit on the roof with his telescope to try and see more stars. It's kind of hard here in the city, but we manage,” Katie told him. She bit her lip as a new question floated to mind. “Do you know why your dad is here talking to my parents?”

Keith nodded. “Uh-huh. It's 'cause he's a firefighter. He was just doing desk work for them for a while, but they want him to go back out and help people and he agreed. But it's dangerous and if anything happened to him, there isn't anyone around who can watch me.”

“What about your mom?”

“She's... gone.”

Katie picked at the long fibers of the rug, unsure of how to respond to that. “Well, what if I talk to my mom and dad and tell them you should stay with us! I know they said we can't, but I don't see what the big deal is.”

Keith said up suddenly, both hands raised to keep his hood in place. “I told you, it's because I'm not normal.” He paused for a few seconds. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course I can,” Katie responded as she sat up as well. She held out her right hand with all fingers except her pinky curled in towards her palm. “Pinky promise!”

Instead of looping his finger with hers, Keith pushed back his hood in a fluid motion. He slowly twisted to face her, his eyes downcast as he waited for her reaction.

For a moment, Katie was rendered completely speechless. She'd been ready to protest that of course he was normal, but that was proven wrong in an instant. His skin wasn't only dark, it was purple and he had a pair of vertical, pointed stripes rising up from the underside of his jaw. His eyes really did reflect gold in the dim lighting and she wished she could see what color they really were, but that thought flitted away when she noticed his pointed, almost elvish ears, and the fact that his hair faded out to a brighter shade of purple near the ends.

“You're an alien?” she whispered. “Omigosh, this is so cool! I've always wanted to meet an alien, but all of the kids at school say they aren't real! This is the best secret ever! I promise I won't tell anyone else. Not ever!”

Keith lifted his head, his eyes wide. “You really don't mind?”

Katie emphatically shook her head. “I think it's really, really cool! Can I ask you some stuff? You can say no if you don't want to tell me.”

“I, uh, don't really know that much,” Keith said, sounding flustered. “I grew up here on Earth and my mom didn't talk a lot about what it's like, you know, out there. I know she liked it here because of how peaceful it is. I think... I think there's some kind of war happening, but it's really, really far away, and that's why she had to leave. She's out there. Somewhere.”

Katie wasn't going to let the news that he grew up on Earth dampen her spirits. He was still an alien! Or, well, half alien, which made him super awesome in her opinion.

As she asked whatever question popped into her mind, they slowly laid back down on the rug. Questions gave way to sleepy remarks and jokes that left them both giggling until slowly Katie drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

Keith turned his head to watch her, marveling over the fact that he had found someone who wanted to be friends. And slowly, he too faded off into the realm of dreams.

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 2)

This is the second chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform.

Feel free to write comments in the tags or send me messages about this. I love feedback!

16 and 14 years old

Pidge Gunderson. I am Pidge Gunderson.

Katie looked herself in the mirror, trying to convince her brain that the image reflected was hers, that it was a boy, with no previous links to the Garrison, someone who had wanted to go into Communications.

It didn’t really work. All she saw was Matt: his glasses; his short, unkempt haircut; his nickname for her.

Maybe it was better like this. Katie had initially meant to immerse herself in this new identity, to go so deep into Pidge Gunderson that no one would be able to see past the cover, but the truth still kept slipping through her defenses. Katie was a Holt and her family was missing, so she was gonna find them. Pidge was just a tool.

It would be easier if there weren’t so many risks in studying at the Garrison.

Her father hadn’t brought her around often, but Katie had become infamous among the night-time security for her excursions to discover sensitive information regarding the Kerberos mission. Iverson, in particular, was probably expecting a new advance on her part.

He hadn’t recognized her, yet.

Sometimes Katie worried that she’d already been exposed and that they were just gathering evidence before actually making a move against her. If the Garrison was willing to lie about her father’s and brother’s deaths, then she couldn’t overlook the possibility that corruption ran deep within the organization.

She sighed, tugging at the ends of her hair.

“Come on, Gunderson!” she heard someone shout from outside her door. “You’re coming to lunch with us whether you want to or not!”

Lance continued to make noises, probably talking to Hunk. They usually threatened to hack into her keypad if she didn’t come out to join them for meals. Katie couldn’t really understand their stubbornness. She might have appreciated their offer of friendship back in Middle School, when she’d felt ostracized by her peers, but now it was just another hazard to her already convoluted plan.

“Go bother some poor girl, McClain!” Katie shouted in response, feeling more inpatient than strictly necessary.

She knew that Lance meant well, but she didn’t have time for his hijinks. Katie had a duty to her family, first and foremost, and any effort spent placating her teammates was a waste in that regard. Not to mention that Lance had a knack for attracting attention that completely opposed her own need to remain unseen.

Her door slid open with an elegant swoosh.

Katie poked her head from the bathroom to glare at the two boys who stood there. Hunk had the sense to look ashamed, but Lance just grinned.

“It’s bonding time, Pidge!” He stepped into the room, arms wide open. His easy smile was the same as ever, despite the news they’d received earlier that day about their performance stats. It was probably why Lance was there, after all.

Katie actually felt a little bad about the whole thing. She wasn’t particularly invested in training as a communications officer and, though she wouldn’t say it affected her retainment of the knowledge demanded from her, it certainly translated into frustration when they were in the simulator.

She wasn’t much of a team player, Katie could admit.

“If you’re trying to get on my good side, this is not how to do it,” she grumbled, trying her best to keep her voice low. Too much of a change would eventually weight on her vocal cords or sound plain ridiculous, but a difference in pitch and speech patterns were certainly necessary to disguise her true identity. Thankfully, any slip up could be attributed to puberty, as she’d been seeing many of their male classmates endure the difficulties of cracking voices.

Lance took her by the shoulders and shook her indiscriminately. “Quit being the worst!” His cheerfulness hid the vexation that Katie knew he truly felt. “We’re having burgers today, so I’m not letting you bring us down.”

She snickered. Lance was notorious for his love of junk food, despite Hunk’s attempts to get them more nutritious meals. He frequently spoke about his mother’s cooking but didn’t seem to have that same interest in the dietary plan prepared by the Garrison.

Katie couldn’t really fault him for that. Their meals were usually so blend that they seemed to withdraw taste from any of the condiments added.

From behind Lance, Hunk had finally gathered enough courage to come in. He looked around in such false innocence that Katie might have believed him, hadn’t she caught him going through her drawers the previous week. That boy was nosy as hell.

Just another reason to keep them away.

“If I go with you to the cafeteria, does that mean I can get you out of my room?” She fixed them with a stony look.

“For a time,” Lance offered, all cheeky and bright and annoying.

Hunk put a hand on his shoulder, pulling his friend back from Katie. “We noticed you didn’t eat yesterday, again.” He sighed. “If you took better care of yourself, we wouldn’t come here so often.”

Katie let that reasoning sit with her for a bit. She usually sneaked granola bars and other less-perishable types of food into her room to eat while she worked, but it was true that she didn’t really sit for meals unless the boys pushed her. She didn’t think they would notice.

It brought a strange warmth to her chest. She’d felt cold for so long now, always at arm’s length from those around her. Her mother had tried, but she was grieving and her suffering filled her until there was no more room for her daughter. These small kindnesses had gone away with Matt.

She struggled not to reach into her pocket for the picture she kept of them. Hunk had a curious soul and Lance was a gossip; they had almost caught her one too many times.

“I guess I did want your input on how to recalibrate this old radio I found in the junkyard…” Katie huffed out a breath, which the boys took as a surrender.

“Ah, nothing like the smell of oil and grease to really improve the day!” Lance put an arm around her shoulders, but she quickly dodged away, lest he recognize anything different about her body. Even though she was already pretending to be a boy, Katie didn’t want to also have to pretend to be trans. It was a line that she dared not cross, morally.

She felt the dysmorphia more acutely than she’d imagined she would. As a child, she had enjoyed cutesy things and dresses and her long hair. The sudden departure from those possessions was supposed to remove her from her previous identity, but Katie would always know the truth. There was no escaping it.

More than anything, it was the inability to choose that left her frazzled. The loose clothes and glasses and boyish haircut didn’t bother her and they did give her a liberty that more feminine wear didn’t, but Katie wished the circumstances allowed her to be a girl too, sometimes.

Alas, here she was, stuck between Hunk and Lance as they basically escorted her to the cafeteria. Matt would have a conniption if he ever found out there were boys breaking into her room at all times of the day.

“You thinking about those amazing fries we’re gonna get?” Lance sighed dreamily. “Honestly, I don’t know how they do it. Every other meal freaking sucks, but then Monday comes around and the cooks just nail it!”

Hunk chuckled, nodding along. “They probably want to put us in a good mood for the week. Everybody knows that getting back to classes after the weekend can be hard.”

“Hard? It’s impossible.” Lance dragged his hands through his face. “I nearly fell asleep during Arithmetic today. Professor Reeves is such a bore!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t fall asleep if you didn’t spend Sunday nights in town,” Katie quipped before she could stop herself.

“Yeah, well,” Lance floundered. “What’s your excuse, then? You won’t come with us, but you still look dead on your feet in the mornings!”

“I’m just not a morning person.” She crossed her arms, turning away from Lance.

In doing so, however, she came face to face with Hunk, who was staring at her with an inquisitive look. He was less loud about it than Lance, but it was clear that he also had questions about what Katie spent her time doing.

She tightened her arms around herself, feeling her stomach drop.

This was why Katie didn’t like to talk to them. It was usually easy to ignore Lance, because of how over-the-top he was, but Hunk’s gentleness and concern made the guilt rise within her. She didn’t want to involve other people in her lies, didn’t want them to believe Pidge was their friend only to be faced with a betrayal.

And that’s how they would see it, wasn’t it? Katie didn’t have a lot of experience with friendships, especially not ones as deep as Hunk and Lance’s, but no sane person would take it lightly to find out someone had lied about their whole identity and motivations.

Besides, if she ever did find out what the Garrison was hiding, it could possibly affect the future of the organization and disrupt the trajectory of every student there.

Before Katie could go further into her spiraling thoughts, she felt Hunk maneuver her into the cafeteria line. She had tuned out the rest of their conversation and now Lance spoke of a girl in his Aerodynamics class.

She ignored his ramblings. Lance tried to project this image of a lady’s man, but the few dates he’d scored since they started school never seemed to really move forward. They ended up in an endless cycle in which Lance fixated on some girl, hit on her endlessly, then finally gave up and went crying to Hunk.

Katie couldn’t see the appeal of it, but it most likely had to do with Lance’s self-esteem and need for validation.

“I think Jiya might actually like me!” he declared, despite how both Hunk and Katie were more focused on filling their trays with food. “Whenever the teacher asks me to stay behind and clean up, she stays to help! That has to mean something!”

Katie collected her juice box and went to sit down, pointedly ignoring Lance’s questions.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Hunk said agreeably. He didn’t sound too sure, but his expression showed that he was trying to be positive for Lance’s sake.

“Or, you know, the girl is just a nice person who thought you were being picked on by the teacher.” Katie raised her eyes to give Lance an unimpressed look. “And you’re reading too much into it.”

The boy scowled at her. “What would you know, Pidge? I’ve never seen you with a girl before.”

“Yeah,” she raised an eyebrow, feeling smug that the other two wouldn’t understand the humor in this. “What do I know of girls?”

Katie had to suppress a laugh when Lance turned to her with a very confused expression. Hunk, however, gave her a small, secretive smile that set off all kinds of warning signs.

“I don’t get it,” Lance complained to Hunk, then turned back to her. “I don’t get it!”

“Well,” Hunk started and immediately her heart started pounding in her chest. Outwardly, Katie tried to remain impassive. “The girls in our class all love Pidge.”

“They do?!” Lance burst out, eyes widened. His gaze shifted back and forth between her and Hunk.

They didn’t, Katie was pretty sure. Did they?

“They think he’s cute,” Hunk confirmed, waving his fork in the air as if trying to recall the exact words. “Pidge is quiet, but he’s smart and mostly polite, so Denise decided he was a good guy and the rest of the girls kinda followed her lead.”

Now that Katie thought about it, it was true that she’d helped Denise with her Bio homework and that people had been nicer to her since. She supposed they could see Pidge in a good light, especially because he seemed so much younger than the other students in Engineering.

Katie blinked rapidly to dispel her thoughts. She’d been thinking of Pidge in the third person, again.

“Fine, then.” Lance narrowed his eyes at Katie. “What miraculous advice do you have for me, oh Great Pidgeon?”

Despite his sarcasm, it was clear that Lance truly wanted an answer. It was one of the most ridiculous situations Katie had ever found herself in.

“How about you show some interest in what these girls like, instead of showboating around them?” She flicked a fry at him, which Hunk quickly stole for himself. “Sure, some people want to be impressed, but we all got into the Garrison and a lot of them already know your grades on the simulator. Most girls want someone who will listen and who they can have fun with.”

“I can be fun!” Lance protested.

“I get what Pidge’s saying, though,” Hunk intervened. Katie hadn’t meant to be harsh, but Lance suddenly looked a little deflated. “We know that you’re great, but you’re always so busy trying to be what these girls want from you that you don’t really get to know them. A little kindness goes a long way.”

Katie nodded along, munching on her burger. “No girl wants an egocentric boyfriend,” she added, mouth still half full. Lance glared at her in both disgust and indignancy.

“I don’t want to hear this from you, Mister I’m-not-here-to-make-friends!”

She shrugged and continued to eat her burger.

“Okay, okay…” Hunk put his hands up placatingly. “How about I get us some dessert and we change the subject?”

Lance glanced at him through the corner of his eyes. “Those guava-flavored popsicles?”

“You know it!” Hunk grinned back at him and the two shared a high-five.

“You’re so easy to please,” Katie commented once Hunk had gotten up. She used her last fry to soak up the mayo leftover on her plate.

Lance glared at her for a moment, before letting the last of his annoyance slip away. He reached into his backpack and took out an apple.

“Here.” He deposited it on her tray.

Katie frowned at him. “What is this?”

“You always eat fruit after we get something greasy, right?” he asked it casually, distracted by trying to squeeze ketchup onto his remaining fries. The condiment bottles in the cafeteria were continuously blocked.

“Yeah.” She blinked up at him, caught by surprise. Her voice had gone soft and she had to clear her throat to dispel the emotion that knotted there. “I didn’t think you would remember.”

Lance looked up from his food to give her an exaggerated eye-roll.

“You’re my friend, Pidge.” He kicked her under the table. “In spite of all your efforts to keep me away.”

She stayed silent for a moment, staring at the apple.

“Thank you,” she said. I’m sorry, she wanted to add, but it would make no sense to him. As far as Lance knew, Pidge was cold and self-involved and clinical to a fault.

“Don’t mention it!” He threw a fry up and tried to catch it with his mouth, but it merely bounced off his nose, marking it with ketchup. “Dang! One more!”

Katie let out a breath of laughter. Then, sitting up to better her odds, she waved at Lance. “Try me.”

By the time Hunk returned, Katie was biting into her apple as Lance complained about the ketchup stains he’d gotten on his uniform jacket.

--

She didn’t know what had driven her away from the dorms that day. There was a restless energy within her that demanded space and, though she’d never been the biggest fan of nature, it had sent her directly into the Arizona desert.

Katie felt like Pidge, today. Not like Pidge Gunderson, but like the little girl who’d yelled a misheard swearword at locked doors, until her brother had come to her rescue. She felt young and impulsive and alive, despite the grief that still weighted on her shoulders.

More than anything, she missed her mom.

In Katie’s eyes, Coleen Holt knew everything there was to know about agriculture and plant life. She was a different kind of genius from her father and brother, possessing a peacefulness about her that none of the other Holts could ever hope for. It had been a comfort through the years of Katie’s adolescence.

Sitting underneath one of the few trees distributed across the Garrison grounds reminded Katie of her grandmother’s place in Italy, where the fruit trees spread as far as the horizon. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the sweet smells that rose from the vegetation.

“I wonder if they have lemon trees here,” she murmured to herself.

“I don’t think they do, Pidge.”

Katie lurched back in shock. She felt her shoulder scrape against the tree trunk and had to stretch out an arm to keep from falling. Lance sent her a carefree grin, bent down at the waist to look her in the eye, as he usually did. It irritated Katie to no end, not only for how condescending it was, but because it always put him too far into her personal bubble.

“What are you even doing here, Lance?” she asked once her heartrate had gone down.

“I saw you through a window and thought we could eat together, since Hunk is sick.” He looked pointedly at the half-eaten sandwich she’d tossed in her surprise. “I see you started without me.”

“Well, now I’ll have to buy something else for lunch, so thanks for that,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be like that, Pidgeon.” Lance poked her on the ribs. “I even brought you something as a bribe.” And then he extended an apple towards her.

Katie took it, trying to cover up her amusement with exasperation. “Do you think I’m obsessed with apples or something?”

“Next time I’ll bring you a lemon,” he teased.

Maybe it was because she felt more herself than she had in weeks, but Katie snickered at him. While his sanguinity could be exhausting, this time it was a welcome relief from the stagnation she’d fallen under.

Lance pulled out a sandwich from his pack, one of those 30 centimeters subs in Italian bread and multiple fixings, and Katie felt her mouth water at the sight. He must have noticed, because Lance chuckled and broke out one end for her.

“I think this is a palo verde,” he remarked after swallowing his first bite. At a confused look from Katie, he clarified, “the tree. You were talking about it before, right?”

“You speak Spanish?”

“Yeah…” He sounded like he was laughing at her. “I’m Cuban.”

Katie suddenly felt very stupid. He and Hunk had probably mentioned this already, but she didn’t pay them that much attention. It was a little embarrassing, especially when Lance seemed to be memorizing every small piece of information she offered him.

“Oh.” She searched for the right thing to say. “I didn’t know. Your last name sounds American.”

The whole situation left in her a sense of déjà vu. She couldn’t quite remember why, but the words pulled at her memory.

Thankfully, Lance took it in stride. “Our family has been to the US, then back to Cuba, then back to the US for generations. My whole name is actually Lance Serrano Mcclain.”

She nodded. Normally Katie would let the conversation drop and focus on finishing her meal, but she had already decided to take a bit of a break that day, in order to be more attentive at night. It couldn’t hurt to find out more about her teammate.

“So… Palo verde?”

“It means green stick, which seems kind of unfair, because this tree is actually pretty big, especially for the climate around here.” Lance fanned himself. “I hate how dry it gets.”

She almost agreed with him, but, as far as Lance and Hunk were concerned, Pidge Gunderson had no reason to have been outside of Arizona. Instead, she pretended to ponder his comment.

“The desert can be pretty unpredictable. The lack of humidity during the day is bad, but I wouldn’t want to be caught out when the temperatures drop.”

Lance faked a shiver. “Don’t even talk about that! I have too much tropical blood to handle the cold well. Hunk’s Samoan, by the way,” and there was unnecessary emphasis to his words here, “so he’s the same.”

“I didn’t realize both of you weren’t from around here.” Katie could imagine how much they missed their families. Choosing to voluntarily leave so that they could study at the Garrison must have been difficult.

“That’s nice to hear.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” He scrunched up his nose, as if he wanted to take back the words as he said them. “You were so cold to us when we first met, we weren’t sure what it was about.”

It was her turn to grimace. Katie hadn’t wanted to seem like so much of a jerk. She could be snappish and patronizing, even with those she loved, but her haughtiness towards her teammates had been a façade created to keep them out. Not that it did any good.

“Ugh, you’re already closed off, again.” Lance threw his head back in frustration. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s just personal, Lance.” Katie played with the apple in her hands. “I swear it’s not about you two.”

Without looking directly at him, she couldn’t tell what expression Lance was making. He stared at her, letting the silence extend.

Then he popped the last of the sub into his mouth, spreading back onto the grass.

“We will pester it out of you.” She turned to see him grinning. The confidence there was a quiet thing, so much different than Lance’s usual hyperboles and that much more effective. She felt dazed by it. “Eventually.”

Katie had never understood what the girls in her school meant when they talked about crushes. They always seemed frivolous, going on about someone’s hair or how handsome they were or how strong. Meanwhile, Katie had simply hoped for a friend, for a respite to the unending mocking.

Still, Lance suddenly looked very interesting under this light. His chin was too pointed to be considered attractive, but his blue eyes caught the sunshine like polished stone. He could be funny and thoughtful and inventive, attributes Katie hadn’t expected to value.

She moved her gaze to where another group of students was sitting, uncertain if the heat running up her neck would translate into a damning blush. She bit into the apple to keep from incriminating herself further.