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mandareeboo · 3 years

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SU Music Rankings

Bc I can and I wanna start some Disk Horse rip. These are all in order of preference, with explanations, etc. It’s a long bitch. That said, I’m not counting little short jingles or small joke songs like Little Butler. This is the meat and potatoes of SU music- just under 30 songs. I might do the rest if people like my takes lol.

I scored it mostly on three bases- how dear it was to my heart, how much/often I relisten to it, and also what it means to the plot. That said, little fun songs don’t automatically go farther down than big, plot-heavy songs either! It’s a strange little balance.

Special Note: I don’t dislike any of this music! I love SU and that includes its bumps and glitches. I just pick favorite children lol.

1.) Change

Was there ever a more Steven moment than when he wiped the blood off his face and kissed it into sparkles? I think not.

If “Be Wherever You Are” is an ode to young Steven, then this is teen Steven’s. Talking about change, and how much and how little it can do. How he holds his arms up for Spinel to hug him, so trusting. How he seems able to just. Break into soft tears at will, and not to be manipulative- it’s just his kind nature. The warmth in his voice. Fuck yesssss.

2.) Change Your Mind

This song is only fifty five seconds and it’s EVERYTHING to me. It really felt like someone was speaking the words I’d always held deep inside of me, unsure of how to say. It feels like a goodbye to someone who never really loved me.

As much as I enjoyed Future, if this was the finale of SU, I would’ve been perfectly okay with that.

3.) Drift Away

This song gave me legitimate shivers the first time I heard it, and it still haunts me to this day. Spinel stayed, and waited, and all she got was a transmission thousands of years later. Fuck.

4.) Here We Are In The Future

THE MOVIE IS SU AS ITS BEST AND I WON’T BE SWAYED ON IT. Steven being a teen who loves his weird family but is growing just a bit sarcastic to their drama. The adorable love he and Connie share. His slow realization that he will always be working, always have things to do, is both somber and real. The Crystal Gems won’t be safe with one epic battle. They’ll be safe with years of hard work and love. HIS LITTLE HANDSHAKE WITH AMETHYST.

This is a helluva bop and a great way to summarize the main character’s backstories.

5.) Let’s Only Think About Love

Did ya’ll know that Zach Callison killed his throat with that last note? He gave his all for this performance in a vocal range he no longer comfortably do and by god did it SHINE. The FLAIR. The FORESHADOWING. All of the Gems all being awkward about Rose and Steven trying to bring them to the present. Peridot having a mini-existential crisis in a cute yellow dress. I love Zach Callison’s normal singing voice but man is that a fucking bop. Nothing will ever beat it.

6.) Here Comes A Thought

This bad boy helped me out a LOT with some mental issues I was dealing with in high school. I was unmedicated, unsupervised, and full of anxiety. I’d have break downs when I tried to speak about certain things. I couldn’t function. This song inspired me. It helped me feel okay with my intrusive thoughts.

And the episode! -chef’s kiss-. Once again bringing up the morally gray area of training child soldiers. Connie expanding her social group. Steven’s trauma hauling ass in that second half. The ANIMATION. Stevonnie’s gorgeous singing voice. GOD yes.

7.) It’s Over Isn’t It?

Just barely squeaking above Stronger Than You, this ballad is everything gorgeous. The whole episode is. I think Mr. Greg stands in the top five of my episodes for the entire show. It even got nominated!

There’s just so much about this song that I love. The gentle melancholy of Pearl’s voice. How the crew had to redo the shots for this bit bc Deedee went so fucking hard. The hard cuts between Pearl, remembering the love of her life, and Steven, who has begun to feel like he took her away. I’d recommend this song to anyone, regardless of what they do or don’t know about SU, simply bc it tugs so many heartstrings of love, loss, and responsibility.

8.) Stronger Than You

Did you realize this episode aired SEVEN years ago? This bitch was what got me into SU! Hearing about Ruby and Sapphire made my little gay heart so happy inside, and then getting a whole song confirming that they were a couple, that their love powered the strongest Gem on the team? Aaaaaaaaa

To this DAY I get excited when I hear Estelle start singing. This song is timeless. This song will live in media history. God I fucking love this song.

9.) Other Friends

I’m not the biggest musical person, so I hadn’t heard of Sarah Stiles before her casting as Spinel, but JESUS CHRIST the lady went hard. She went SO fucking hard. Sarah Stiles started on 100 and somehow just kept CLIMBING. You can just hear the sheer manic energy building in her voice, the anger and resentment. 10/10 Sarah Stiles is a queen.

10.) Independent Together

This made the list entirely bc the crew was like “you’re gonna get a himbo ass Steven-Greg fusion singing with Opal while Garnet flies across the moon on Lion while floating” and I am forever thankful to them for it

11.) Who We Are

Bismuth deserved more songs. ‘Nuff said.

12.) Peace and Love (On the Planet Earth)

It Could’ve been Great is EASILY one of my favorite s2 episodes. I love the entire concept of this song. Of Steven making music to reflect how much Earth means to him and his family. Of him teaching Peridot some self-care. Also Peridot’s singing voice is really cute and squeaky.

I know it’s silly, but I would’ve really enjoyed a flip around of this in Future! Like Peridot reminding Steven how much he loves music, that he needs to take time to relax for himself, maybe with a new verse or just a remix of the original song!

13.) Something Entirely New

I watched this episode as it aired, and I legitimately almost cried. I love Charlyne Yi’s voice so much ya’ll- her raspy, not perfect singing voice against Sapphire’s deep soothing lull is great.

And to have Ruby and Sapphire’s meeting be the way it was- for Ruby to bemoan Sapphire losing Homeworld, to being stuck with a single Ruby, while Sapphire is a noble who has always been taught everyone in her “caste” is vitally important (and has, in her own mind, taken that to mean every Gem, as she should) and how they come together and make each other happy. Good shit good shit.

14.) I’m Just a Comet

The fact that Greg’s music career never really blasted off pisses me off to this day bc Tom Scharpling’s voice is fucking BUTTER. Also the song really feels like a jab at his parents now that we know the kind of dynamic he had growing up. “This life in the stars if all I’ve ever known” is definitely him wiping away their existence after reminding them (and himself) the things they used to say about him.

15.) Do It For Her

This episode. This fucking episode. This episode got me permanently hooked on SU. I’d just binged season 1 and was kinda meh about it overall after the bop of Stronger Than You. “Oh,” I thought to myself, foolishly, “I’ll probably just casually watch this from time to time.”

Like three days later Sworn to the Sword aired and that was it. I was hooked! Pearl’s gentle training song turning darker and darker, Connie’s accompaniment from nervous to determined to fully into such a toxic mindset. The fact that SU had the BALLS to discuss the repercussions of training child soldiers, now and later. This episode was everything to me, STILL is everything to me.

Six years and well over 100 fanfics written later, I think it’s safe to say this show swallowed me whole and never let go.

16.) System/Boot.pearl_final(3)

I debated putting this on the list because it’s not anything crazy important, just a way to show things are Wrong, but I had to do it entirely bc Pearl is so damn SALTY.

Like telling us about the Gems makes sense, she felt like she was given a duty, but she went so damn petty. WHY is that Ruby alone. Gross. This Amethyst is a trash dump. Wtf are you people.

17.) Full Disclosure

This episode really feels like a turning point for SU. Before, the show had its dark moments- but now we’re in the thick of it, and it’s not going away. Full Disclosure felt like an rebuff to the idea of returning to any normal we’d established in season 1. Gems are actually a giant species now. Gems tried to kill us now. There’s this Yellow Diamond bitch who got namedropped. Something about a Cluster.

The song itself is BALLER, with its ingenious use of Steven’s ringtone and photos as he tries to decide whether to clue in Connie on all this nonsense. Meanwhile we, the audience, already know damn well Connie about to yeet some common sense into him.

18.) What’s the Use of Feeling Blue?

I’mma admit it- I’m a Yellow Diamond stan. I’ve always loved her- her anger, her poise, her hardworking nature. I actively argued against the “Yellow Shattered Pink” theories back in the day. But, man, when this arc leaked? I got so overexcited I was too jittery to watch it for like two days. It’s easily my favorite arc of the series. The sheer alien nature of the zoo, the Famethyst, and absolutely Patti Lupone’s beautiful ballad. Goddamn. Yellow singing to Blue to try and help her regain her old status, the warble in her voice as she reminds Blue she misses Pink too, the movement of the bubbles as she talks about attack. It gives me shivers to this day. FUCK.

19.) Tower of Mistakes

This is, fun fact, that only SU song I have completely memorized. The story itself is kinda funny! See, we lost internet at my house for a solid 5 to 6 months when these episodes aired, so I only got a very brief window to view them all. But this was the first Amethyst song in a long while, and I didn’t want to forget it! So I keep replaying it in my head for ages. And that’s still definitely a thing.

Anyway will never not be sad that this entire song was about making it up to Garnet for Amethyst’s perceived slights with Sugilite (which was a two-way road), only for Garnet to pressure her into fusion later when pissed and never discuss it again bc Garnet probably never thought twice about it and Amethyst has the emotional openness of a clam that’s just been told its ugly. Helluva way to make someone feel like shit, G. Helluva way to bottle that shit, Ames.

20.) On the Run

I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Amethyst! Needed! More! Songs!

The dichotomy between Steven’s play and Amethyst’s honest desire to run away from home is so well-done, especially when you consider a lot of Steven and Amethyst’s actions are playing together. The song is also near and dear to me simply bc it’s my favorite Amethyst episode to exist (well, maybe second to What’s Your Problem, but not by much). Moments like these are all the proof I need that they were right to fuse first.

21.) Be Wherever You Are

This tune really just feels like an ode to who Steven was as a kid. Trapped on an island with no way home, and he’s just happy to be with his friends. The stars are beautiful and not oppressive. Also that one animatic with Lars and the Off Colors playing in the Homeworld Kindergarten to this music was iconic and made this song get stuck in my head for a solid month.

22.) Familiar

I ADORE how the crew use bright neon colors to show how alien Homeworld can be. And Steven recognizing that the Diamonds treat him how the CGs used to, and how prepared he is to “fix” a broken family. It’s a soft, gentle tune about melancholy. Also the Pebbles are beautiful.

23.) Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart

Such a cute little love ballad, but every time I listen to it now I just imagine the heart attack Rose must’ve had at the line “And if we look out of place/Well, baby, that's okay/I'll drive us into outer space.” like there’s a Vietnam war flashback if I ever heard one

24.) What Can I Do?

I’m kind of neutral on this one? Rose and Greg both have great voices, but the song itself lacks many lyrics. I think it was definitely a good way to show Rose’s flaws in thinking.

Also, I’m shocked they managed cram that much vaguely sexual innuendo into two minutes, followed by how Not Hetereo that dance between Rose and Pearl was, and not get their asses chewed by it. You go guys.

25.) Cookie Cat

I love a lot of the vibes this song has. The lyrics are so damn prophetic, but they also sound like the kind of weird 90s commercials I grew up on. It’s been like two decades since I saw the Shirley Temple commercial but I’ll be damned if I don’t remember “Animals crackers in my soup! Monkey and rabbits loop-de-loop.”

26.) Giant Woman

I am. NOT the biggest fan of Steven’s original singing voice. I feel bad saying that, since it was just Zach Callison as a kid, but he never jived well with me for some reason. So I wouldn’t listen to this on the fly.

The song itself is still really good though, with all sorts of fun animation of Amethyst and Pearl being bitchy to each other. It’s a bit sad in hindsight to see tiny Steven trying to get his moms to get along. Ahh, season 1.

27.) Strong in the Real Way

This song has SUCH a strong start. Pearl reflecting on Sugilite’s problems, but the show making sure to show us that Pearl’s lack of enthusiasm towards her also lends itself to jealousy as well as just general malaise. How much she cares about Steven, and wants him to grow up strong.

And then Steven just kinda. Ruins it? I appreciate his enthusiasm for tryna bulk up but to take what was starting as such a rich, personal song and broadcasting it to random strangers just makes me a bit sad. Almost a bit angry on her behalf?

28.) That Distant Shore

I KNOW this is gonna create some discourse, but I’m just not the biggest Lapis stan. I love her voice. I love the visuals of the song. And I get why she felt afraid and needed to flee.

But Lapis never got to take responsibility for her own actions. And, in the end, the song feels hollow to me- because we all know she’ll never talk to anyone about it, know she’ll burst back in and destroy the barn, and no one will ever question it. I like Lapis a lot, but I feel like her arc never was fully finished. She never got help. She never learned to feel safe.

29.) Dear Old Dad

I’ve yet to meet a single human being who likes this episode tbh. There’s some great discussion about what kind of parent Greg is from it, and what kind of dynamic he has with the Gems that he felt he had to fake an injury to hang out with his son. Honestly the first half was fine and dandy. It’s just that then they Greg just went out of his way to drag Steven away from missions and such. It never jived well with his character before or after.

Also, is it just me, or does Zach himself sound like he hates the song as he sings it? There’s no passion or heart in his voice. It sounds like they told him to read off cue cards and he did. Tom Scharpling’s best attempts didn’t save this one for being a skipper. But the episode, unfortunately, isn’t, so it gets a spot on here.

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antimonyandthyme · 2 years

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass it to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Thank you Anney <33 Also @kritischetheologie and @warriorbarnes for leaving this in my inbox too!

Down in the Depths We Make Our Home

Well, I think I've gone on and on about my love for giant robots and such and I have a massive soft spot for this fic and it always amazes me just how much it was enjoyed I really thought I would be writing this to the void! I love the world-building I did here, I love the backstories, I love the relationships and characters here, I love the action. I'm really proud of how it came across as cohesive and understandable even for people who didn't know anything about Pacific Rim.

Then Be Not Coy, but Use Your Time

I'm changing things up and including a fic I wrote in the Tenet fandom! Prior to this, I've never dared touch Nolan fandoms before because I thought everyone in it was SO BIG BRAINED and gosh I could barely comprehend the movie how am I supposed to write in the universe? But then Tenet came about and it was literally a love story between the Protagonist and Neil and I had to, and I dedicated it to an author whom I really respected and it was so well received that I just. It made me very happy! I like how I jumped back and forth timelines in this fic. I think I pulled it off well!

Statement

I'm actually really, really happy with this 1000 word fic. I like the cadence of it. I like the rhythm of my words. I like that it's set in the aftermath of an argument. I like that there's forgiveness! I generally write shorter fics and sometimes I worry that nothing comes across by the end, but readers have told me that I do manage to fit a good deal in them. It's very encouraging!

Treading Softly in My Head

I said I would never do it, but I went through the entire 2013 season to write this fic and make the races as accurate as possible, and I'm really proud of it! I never thought I'd be able to with my limited capacity to stay focussed on a subject. I took a trope I really enjoyed (soulbonds) and kinda flipped it on its head, and it changed the dynamics of Martian in a way that really worked, somehow, and resonated with people.

5 Sentence Fics - Secret

I enjoyed writing all the 5 sentence fics from all the lovely prompts I got, and this one was one of my favourites. It's short but I think it packs a punch. And it gives me confidence that lots of things can be accomplished with very few words!

#athy texts #fanfic #writing

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

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temerity

― the perfect job for an overworked, tired, and romantic you is obviously a stressful, demanding, but oh so aesthetic coffeeshop. your job only becomes better when a handsome redhead appears through the door with a loud bang, and you can do nothing but fall for him. or the five times kirishima orders coffee and the one time he doesn’t.

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pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, fluff, light angst, pining, coffee shop!au, modern!au, college!au, happy ending, five times he did and one time he didn’t trope

word count: 9,394

a/n: happy birthday to my beautiful love @ikinabi!!!! this was written for you based off of your favorite tropes including your favorite word, bet you saw this coming a mile away because my interrogation for this was absolute ass. also sorry for the angst, I couldn’t help myself! for the rest of you non-reds, this was a pretty damn fun piece to write. kirishima was modeled after how red sees him too, sorry. I haven’t typed that much in a single sitting in a long time, so it was p refreshing. like always, enjoy and leave a comment if you enjoyed ;-; (oh and thank you all for kiri coffee taste suggestions)

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O N E

Working in a small coffee shop isn’t exactly what you had once thought it to be.

For years you had been attending the small coffee shop just by your university. Most of your studying, homework, and late-night mental breakdowns had taken place in the corner of the shop, hidden from the sight of the patrons, which was conventionally the best spot for the strongest wifi.

You had been there so many times, having tried every single drink on their menu, and had gotten to know every worker there ― including the owners. So when the invitation to work there was brought up the one night you showed up in hysterics because you had lost your other job, it shouldn’t have taken you by surprise.

So now, in your final year of university, you stood at the counter. A textbook cracked open near the register light, the gentle coffee shop tunes playing merrily in the background. The intricate, familiar, and distinguished smell of both fresh and aging coffee beans with day-old pastries soaked deep into every centimeter of the room.

The coffee shop was typically slow at this time at night, most people, thankfully, choosing to keep their caffeine addictions primarily in the mornings. Or, as a student had once confessed, didn’t want to make your job more demanding, so they made their own caffeinated drink this late at night. Regardless, it didn’t matter; the morning and afternoon crowds at this coffee shop were busy enough for you to be grateful for this downtime, especially as midterm season was beginning to approach. With this upcoming season, you knew you would be pouring liters of coffee down red-eyed, broken-spirited, college students' throats in the coming days.

Humming, you flipped the page of your biochem textbook, information on amino acids and protein structure twisting in your mind. At the same time, you tried to absorb the chaotic, overflowing amount of information presented on a single page. With a pen to your lip, you frowned at the sentence, rereading phrases over and over again as you struggled to figure out just why Hydrogen formation was so important.

That didn’t last for too long, fortunately.

For when you were about to scream to your coworker who was hiding away in the backroom about how amino acids could go fuck themselves, the front door slammed open.

Despite the wooden door being extremely, almost stupidly heavy (to the point where there was a sign that clearly read: YES WE ARE OPEN, THE DOOR IS JUST REALLY HEAVY, outside), it crashed into the wall, causing a loud smack to rattle the shop. You, having been so absorbed in your studies, jumped at the sound. Your body flinched as a surprised shriek left your lips.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! It said the door was heavy, but I didn’t think it would slam open like that!” came an apologetic and obviously embarrassed voice from the entrance.

Your heart was pounding with adrenaline. You focused your attention on the man who was frantically checking potential damages to both the door and the wall. All while he continued to apologize.

Red hair and red eyes are the first things you noticed about him.

Red hair that obviously was dyed, red, warm eyes seemed smooth and seemed to melt into sugary brown, and a rather large scar over his right eye that stopped just at his eyebrow. His smile was broad, exceedingly bright, albeit stiff.

Despite your pumping blood and the way that your fingertips tingle with your fear, a smile and laugh pressed to your lips as he fumbled to close the door behind him (although it was nearly closed by the time he fumbled for the metal brass door handle). Pushing up off the counter from where you were lying, you shut the textbook you had, waving off the new customer.

“No worries! Most people either overcompensate or can’t open the door at all,” you explained with a pinching smile, the laughter in your tone so noticeable despite your intent to keep your humor hidden. Your smile and softly thudding heart only seemed to increase stupidly as the red-headed man approached the cash register.

He was dressed horribly.

He wore an orange gym shirt, most definitely worn with age, and a bit too small on his… physique, navy blue basketball shorts that had white stripes on the side of his thigh, and black athletic crew socks with bright red crocs.

A living, walking fashion disaster.

“Um,” you stifled a teasing snort, “what can I get for ya?”

The man (was he a himbo? he seemed like he could be one through his appearance alone!) crossed his arms across his chest, lower lip jutting out as he read the menu under his breath with curious, wide eyes. His head tilted to the side, his gaze seemingly stuck on a single area of the menu, and with all the curiosity of the world weighing down on you at this one, very moment, you turned behind you.

“Anything catching your eye?”

“This is… uh, this is my first time in here,” he admitted, his gaze falling from the menu, catching your own eye when you turned back around to face him. His eyes were wide, clear as they were alarmingly honest; he paused for a bit before eventually adding, “actually.”

“Well,” you began, your own honest smile brightening on your face, “lucky for you, I’ve tried everything on this menu. Pick your poison, I can tell you what everything tastes like.”

His eyes widen in what you can only recognize as being overwhelmed, but you try to hide the way your smile is turning into a smirk when he begins to list out drinks.

Drink after drink he names, most of them being dark, black, bitter-tasting coffees, and you can see some hesitation in him with each name he lists.

“You don’t seem to know what kinda coffee you like, huh?” you eventually point out once he’s had you repeat the entire menu for the dark roasts the shop had.

“That would be embarrassing if it wasn’t for the fact that I’ve never had coffee in my life before,” he laughed partially in embarrassment, but much more in some underlying mirth and energy, he seemed to easily hold. Energy that seemed to warm your chest more than any cup of coffee on a cold morning. “I’m what you could call a coffee virgin.”

Now that got a snort out of you.

“Okay, coffee virgin,” you teased, immediately grabbing a kids' throwaway cup behind the counter. “You should’ve started with that!”

“I didn’t want to come off as uncultured! I mean, I’m down at the university, the uni down the street, I’m a university student myself! But being twenty-one and never having coffee before? It just seems… I don’t know so unmanly!”

All while he was confessing the reason as to why he had never in his life had a single cup of coffee, you had poured the simmering black coffee that he was most interested in into the cup. It was filled with only a small amount of the black, bitter liquid, just enough to give him a good taste of the drink. Placing the kids' cup in front of him with a satisfactory thunk, you grinned up at him.

His hand was pressed to the back of his neck, an almost shameful look on his face with just the smallest blush brightening his cheeks and ear tips.

“I think it’s cool you’re a uni student without a coffee addiction,” you smile earnestly, pressing the kids' cup closer to him. “Shows a different kind of man that you’re able to handle a workload without a caffeine drip.”

If you didn’t know better (and honestly, you didn’t, you were probably projecting the weird stranger crush you had seamlessly formed on him), you would have said he forgot how to speak. He clears his throat, his embarrassment fading into a small, soft smile, and he picks up the cup.

“Thank you for the sample.”

He takes a drink of the warm liquid, and immediately he seems to crush the paper cup in his hand, a suppressed hysteric of coughing spluttering past his fisted hand on his mouth, tears springing into his eyes. You yelped in surprise, hands fluttering out to smack him on the arm in a failed attempt to reach his back.

“O-Oh my god!” he eventually wheezed, his eyes staring down at the crushed cup as if it was some sort of vermin, a creature that had no use being alive but still pitied it. His other hand wiped at his lips as to rid of its taste. His head snapped back towards you, his eyes wet with betrayal from both his thoughts and taste buds. “Can you do something, not this at all?!”

You purse your lips for a second, thinking about just what could suit his apparent dislike for bitter, black coffee. With a single idea in your head, you leaned forward onto the counter, a smile back on your lips.

“Do you like cinnamon rolls?”

He blinked.

“Who doesn’t?”

“For here or to go?” you asked, head tilting to the side before you eventually remembered that the shop was closing in a few minutes. “Actually, it’ll be to go!”

“O-Oh, okay!”

“Can I get a name?” you asked, your hand grabbing the paper cup and a sharpie to write his name. There was no reason for you to write down his name; he was the only person in the shop right now.

“K-Kiripima,” he answers with wide eyes and red cheeks. Your eyebrows scrunch.

“Kiripima?”

“No! I’m, oh my god, this is so unmanly of me,” he bemoaned, his head shaking. “Kirishima Eijirou! I’m Kirishima Eijirou!”

The pealing laughter that erupted from your mouth stood no chance at being silenced. And so with an embarrassed nod of your own, you pressed off the counter, writing his name was the neatest writing you had, before setting off.

You worked fast behind the counter, making the specialized drink just for the blushing himbo of a man before you, well, at least until he interrupted your chain of thoughts and actions.

“Biochem, right?”

Placing the cup where the steamed milk machine was, you turned to look at Kiri(p)shima, who was pointing at your textbook with an all too familiar look on his face that told you he recognized it.

“Unfortunately,” you smiled at him, eventually shrugging. “I also go to the uni down the street.”

“Aw damn, sucks I’ve never seen you there before!” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck when he glances up at you from the textbook before looking back down. “I took this class last semester!”

“Oh? Who’d you have?” you asked, continuing on with your work, your suspicion of him being a himbo slightly dwindling.

“Chaney!” he responded, and you looked over at him; you had him this semester, too. “It was the worst! I dropped out the first week! Didn’t help that I thought biochem was a split biology and chemistry course… teaches me not to listen to Kaminari and Mina… ah, I mean, my friends!”

Himbo indeed.

Laughing at his flux in judgment, you placed the steaming cup of sweet, sweet coffee in front of Kirishima, hands pressing onto your hips as you did so.

“How about this?”

You watch as the redhead grins at you, picking up the cup of coffee and drinking it despite your last second squeak that it was probably way too hot to be consumed.

“HOLY SHIT! This is so much better! It tastes just like cinnamon rolls! Bro, you have some serious talent!” Kirishima yelled, his eyes not quite as bright, but his smile definitely still as warm. “How much will it be?”

“On the house,” you admitted with a shrug, your cheeks warming with his look of disbelief. “I took your, uh, coffee virginity away and nearly killed ya, it’s the least I could do!”

Kirishima narrows his gaze on you, his smile softening in tandem while he looks over at the menu again, taking another stiff sip of the coffee.

You watch as he takes his wallet out of his pocket, and with a little effort, pulls out two thousand yen.

“For the next few customers then, yeah?” he smoothly states, already moving back towards the door long before you could demand that he come back and take his money with him.

“Hey!” Kirishima yells, his hand had opened the heavy ass door with no problem or strain. “What's your name?”

“Why?!” you yelled back despite your instincts screaming at you to tell him your name.

His grin stretches so widely you take notice of his glinting, almost abnormally sharp canines from the counter.

“So, I know who to blame for my caffeine addiction!”

You laugh.

“Y/l/n y/n,” you smile, your stomach flipping at the way he seems to brighten with that information. “I promise that’s my real name too, no mess-ups.”

Kirishima laughs, red staining his face.

“Guess we can’t all be as amazing as you, huh?”

You didn’t get the chance to even scream in your fluster because he was already gone. The heavy wooden door closed by the time your coworker emerged from the back, an all too curious look on their face.

“What was that?”

You shrug, a smile stretching further on your face.

“Hopefully, a new regular.”

T W O

“Kiripima!”

If there was a way for you to not giggle at the way Kirishima nearly slammed the door through the wall in his shock embarrassment, you would have liked to know.

“My name is Kirishima, y/l/n!” he yelled back, his cheeks the same color as his spiked hair. “I mean, if you want to call me Kiripima, that’s okay! It’s just… my name is Kiri-shima!”

“Sorry, sorry, Kiripima was too cute to resist!” you admitted with a smirk, your body leaning forward, elbows pressed onto the counter, hands pressed against your cheeks. “What can I get for you so late at night, Kiri-shima?”

Kirishima smiles broadly, his hands sinking into his pockets as he walks over towards you and the counter. He’s dressed much more normally today, he wore black jeans that are slightly dirty with some sort of white powder, and his shirt is a crimson red. It’s tight against his biceps but fits him much better than the last shirt he wore, and on the fabric right above his heart, lays a simple print: FATGUM’S GRUB.

“Nightshift, unfortunately, finally caught me this week!” Kirishima sighs, his shoulder-shrugging but the smile remaining just as firmly on his face. “It’s no biggie, though; it’s for one of my bros who needed the night off!”

“Oh, so you’re an everyday hero?” you tease, enjoying the way that he grins wide enough to show off his sharp canines before it humbles into an embarrassed smile. “How manly of you.”

“Nothing anyone else wouldn’t do,” he mumbled, his gaze falling to your shoulder in his embarrassment.

“Alright, alright, if you say so,” you relent, sighing softly before straightening up and smiling up at the red-haired man who was busy taking in your menu once again with significant hesitation. “What can I get for you this time, Kirishima?”

Kirishima’s eyes glinted over, a laugh once again rumbling in his chest before he sighed, “What do you suggest for me, y/l/n?”

And so, at nearly ten p.m., you stood behind the cash register, Kirishima’s coffee long since given to him, and the two of you were intently talking, laughter and enthusiastic yelling being exchanged fervently.

You learned his name was Kirishima Eijirou; he was twenty-one years old, born and raised in Musutafu. You knew that while yes, he most definitely a himbo (something you confirmed with strategic questions, and not straight up asking him), he was an engineering major! He played a ton of sports but seemed to prefer heavy contact sports, rugby, and soccer being his top choice of sport. You even found out that this man (who often used the term manly in a way that meant ‘approved by Kirishima’) was the biggest fan of the old movies and comic book hero Crimson Riot. You figured this out when he pulled out his phone to show you a picture of his new goldfish and accidentally revealed his lock screen being him and the famous actor behind the superhero.

“You’re telling me you’ve NEVER seen an All Might movie, but you’ve seen ALL the Crimson Riot movies?!” Kirishima yelled, his arms shooting out past the counter to grab you by the shoulders, shaking you intensely with the biggest, goofiest smile on his face.

“Be careful with your coffee!” you squealed, trying to keep his elbow from knocking over his cup that had still gone untouched.

“Y/L/N!” he exasperated, pulling himself in closer to you, his eyes wide and bright, quickly drowning you with his radiant energy and overwhelming enthusiasm. “Answer!!!”

“Oh my god! Yes, Kirishima! I have never seen an All Might film but have seen every single Crimson Riot film!” you confess, your cheeks hurting from your laughter, and growing sense of embarrassment because everyone in the world has seen the All Might movies!

Hell, even people who weren’t from Japan had seen them all!

The movie superhero was a blockbuster smash with every movie they did!

“Why not?! How not?!”

“Because my dad never let me watch them growing up because the guide warnings,” you wheezed, your stomach cramping with your laughter, your hands grabbing onto his sturdy ― and holy fuck, were they sturdy ― biceps trying to ease his excited(???) shaking. “Besides, my dad is a hardcore Crimson Riot fan; he would have a heart attack and die if he heard that I went to go watch an All Might film.”

“Holy shit,” Kirishima breathed, a glazed over glee washing over his face in some euphoric bliss. “Your dad… is so manly, I think I could marry him.”

Your laughter only grew when Kirishima wiped tears from his eyes, and you patted his arm in your condolences.

“I think he would not take to someone claiming to be the biggest Crimson Riot fan!”

Kirishima grin only grew, “Bet he wouldn’t!”

You tilted your head, your smile becoming a bit lopsided, ready to take that bet right there, right now. You knew your dad was most definitely still awake at this time.

But the words never got to pass your mouth because as soon as you opened your mouth to speak, a loud ringtone interrupted you.

You also hated the fact that you recognized the ringtone to be the Crimson Riots theme song.

Kirishima’s warm hands pulled away from you, his overeagerness abandoned as he pulled out his phone and pressed it to his ear without checking who was calling.

“It’s Ei, talk to me.”

The nickname of his first name caused your stomach to flip, his smooth baritone voice easily sending shivers down your spine. Still, with the mention of such an intimate nickname… the chill crawling down your spine, teasing every nerve in your system, was inevitable.

You watched Kirishima’s face. The way that he easily took in the words of whoever was on the other side of the line. The smile on his face remained if only muted just a bit as he agreed left and right with whoever was on the other side.

“Nah, I can get there in a few! Don’t worry about it, Fat, I normally show up early to shifts regardless, I don’t blame ya! Yeah, yeah, okay, yeah! Yeah! See ya soon!”

Disappointment blossomed in your chest, the horrible feeling of having to say goodbye to a customer who had only come in twice! Twice! Most times, you never wanted to see any customers, even some regulars, more than once in your lifetime! But again, there had been no other customer in your life as a barista that had been as kind, friendly, and hot as Kirishima.

“Well, I gotta go now,” Kirishima softly sighed, his lips pressing into a half-smile, his eyebrows scrunched together in his (maybe) reluctance to leave. “Fat, er, my boss, got overloaded with the late-night munchies, so…”

“Time for the fanboy to leave?” you finished for him, your fingers looping into your apron, your eyes glancing at the clock that showed you that you should’ve been cleaning up five minutes ago.

“Yeah, sadly!” Kirishima laughed, his hand grabbing the coffee and pocketing his phone as he made his way to the front door. You followed after him, ready to lock the door after him in case some desperate customer tried to come in. “Well, thank you for the coffee again! I gotta see just how much you know about the greatest superhero ever the next time I drop by!”

You smiled.

“Next time?”

Kirishima paused for a bit, “Yeah, next time!” he pushed through the front door, and you watched as he exited the shop, his body turning so he was looking at you while he walked backward. “I told ya, y/l/n, it's pretty unmanly of you, but you got me hooked on caffeine!”

There was no time for you to argue otherwise because he turned on his heel just as quickly and began jogging off to his own job.

“You’ll close up by yourself?” your bitchy coworker asked, and you startled, seeing that she was also pushing past the door. “You kept us over way later because you can’t stop flirting with the customers, which by the way, is against protocol.”

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, whatever, bye.”

T H R E E

“Next in line, please!”

It was busy.

As you had once thought many, many weeks ago, the midterm season had finally come with full force, and it was horrible. There were at least four crying college students found in any of the studying rooms the shop had from sun up to sundown. Some of the students were found soaking their tears onto the worn leather sofa, some moments from dying on the plenty of counters and tables.

On multiple days there had been students who stayed the entire day, drinking whole pots worth of black coffee when they were ordinarily sweet coffee drinkers. You had to give some freshmen girl a tight hug the other day who was seconds from taking a W on her transcripts because she absolutely could no longer handle her math class. You had the unfortunate time of giving a student the news that no, today was not Thursday, it’s Friday, so yes… they missed their midterm for a professor who would refuse to reschedule any missed exam.

But it wasn’t all too bad.

Kirishima had been showing up practically every day now; he would order a pastry every time, opting out of a drink by showing you his three-liter water bottle. It was nice to have someone like Kirishima around (partially because you usually worked with a younger coworker,) who was both strong and sweet. He wasn’t majorly concerned about his midterms, stating that he had study groups with his friends and had been on top of his game and only came to the coffee shop to do light personal studying. So, during your mad dashes to make the 2,783rd cup of coffee within your shift, you couldn’t help but glance over at Kirishima, who was comforting crying students. When they weren’t crying, and you weren’t desperately trying to appease the caffeine raged customers, he chatted with you, seated on the counter by the coffee counter.

Having him around so much was actually both making your day better and much, much worse. On the one hand, that meant that since you were paired up with coworkers you didn’t get along with, you had a fantastic company that literally made the nights go by so fast as you and he became closer and closer friends. But, on the other hand, it also made your once attraction to him, having been solely based on physical looks to bleed over to personal traits, and you wanted to cry with every poor attempt of flirting that flew over his head.

However, you did get to learn that 1. he did, in fact, dye his hair red because you had the privilege of seeing his black roots. And that 2. despite his phone being filled with the craziest metal and rock songs, he really only listened to a playlist buried in his phone that was filled with soft acoustic guitar and sweet bubblegum pop songs. It was great.

But it was no time to think about your tall, red-headed crush. You had much more pressing issues with the large coffee crowd in front of you. It was rush hour, and since you were scheduled for tonight's shift, they asked if you wanted more hours for today since they were training someone new.

Obviously, you had agreed.

You had forgotten the horrors of rush that included sleep-deprived, caffeine-infused insanity of students coupled with the ever-demanding adults with jobs that they very much needed to return too. It was always horrific.

But you for sure never expected to see your crush before you.

“Kiri!” you smiled, the smile on your face was one of pure exhaustion and joy of seeing your friend crush. Your gaze quickly dropped away from him, your eyes returning to the paper cups you held, writing in their orders and name as quickly as you could. “How can I help you?”

Kirishima visibly gulped, and you froze a bit before setting down the large order on the counter for your coworkers to eventually get to. You knew by the pile-up on orders you would be switched out with the new hire after Kirishima and the person behind him.

“I, uh, I need to ask you something!” Kirishima spoke sharply, his arms stiff at his side. His usual kind and gentle smile on his face is mechanic and dull. He was… he was sweating? Pity filled your stomach; maybe he had done terribly on a midterm.

“Do you need a new coffee rec?” you immediately ask your mind on the set menu behind you, trying to come up with a coffee just sweet enough for the charming man in front of you. “You haven’t had a drink in a while, I don’t remember what you had last, though.”

“No, not that! I have a… well, I have a confession!” Kirishima tries again, his body somehow becoming even stiffer as he nods his head in growing speeds. “Yup! A confession!”

“Would ya hurry it up, kid! Some of us got work to get to!” came a crabby voice from behind Kirishima, and you winced, looking past your crush to the eldering man who looked like he was eating and shitting stress every day for the past three years.

“Sir, please calm down, it won’t take too long,” you frowned, not at all happy with the sheer impatience of the customer. You turned back to Kirishima, an apologetic look on your face. “But a confession? Okay, well, actually… I have one for you as well!” Maybe you could get yourself to confess you liked him?

But the old man’s interruption seemed to have calmed Kirishima down significantly, who snapped out of his haze.

“Sorry, sorry!” he apologized to the man behind him, bowing deeply for his troubles before facing you again and laughed. The palm of his hand hit his forehead as he groaned lowly. “Sorry, this is so unmanly of me, y/l/n! I mean, I shouldn’t even be doing this because you’re working, but I finally… I just…”

He trailed off, and you found it impossible to follow his train of thought, something you weren’t too bad at doing.

“Just what?”

It was with that the world seemed to still.

The noise of the busy coffee shop, the hustling of your coworkers, the chattering of the studying students, and business calls going mute as you stared up into Kirishima’s red, comprehensive, honest eyes.

“Well, it’s just that I, um, I--”

“Listen, kid,” the man behind Kirishima snapped at him. “I have twelve minutes to gather my drink and make it back to my meeting with my executive board. And you’re holding up the damn fucking line! Make up your mind on what coffee you want, because you’ve been in this line with me for almost ten minutes, order it and pay! Let’s get moving!”

“Sir!” you gasped, horrendously mortified a customer was acting like that! “That’s incredibly rude! He hasn’t even been here for a minute!”

“It’s actually been three!” he sneered.

You opened your mouth to retaliate, not at all positive if it had been three minutes because by god did you get lost in Kirishima’s eyes.

“No!” Kirishima interrupted you before you could begin, and you looked up at Kirishima, who looked like a kicked puppy, and that sent your heart into a whole series of palpitations you didn’t know would happen with him. “It’s fine, sorry, I got worked up… um… one of my best bros likes his coffee black, and well, I like it now too. A regular black coffee, to go…”

You didn’t even get a chance to say anything, Kirishima slipping the exact amount of money for the drink before disappearing into the crowd.

Your sight narrowed when it befell onto the old man who looked proud of himself, “Finally! Now, let me see what you guys have! I don’t know what I want!”

F O U R

Kirishima was late.

So late, so very, very late.

He checked his phone for the time yet again, somehow praying that in the last time he had checked his phone (which had been three seconds ago), the time hadn’t shot forward by ten minutes, and by the spirit of god had maybe, possibly rewound by ten minutes. He only hoped that he wouldn’t show up too late today; he actually needed something with caffeine to keep him awake today.

But he saw the coffee shop straight ahead, the small white light by the front door still buzzing and bright with the illuminated: OPEN! sign. Kirishima barreled through the front door with now practiced and known strength, his forehead sweating profusely, and his heart hammering in his throat.

“I’m… here!” he panted, his eyes finding yours as you were cleaning up the counter with a disinfecting liquid and cloth.

He had seen you yesterday, but still, seeing you at the counter, your gaze on what you were doing was like an arrow to his lungs. He looked at you in his personal slowed downtime, the way that the halo of frizzy, curly, flyaways from your hair gleamed softly with the backlight, the warmth of your skin, the gentle flutter of your eyelashes as you looked up, and he was met with the depth pool of your warm eyes.

Beautiful.

His eyes fell onto your lips, and noticed they were moving ever so slightly, and he realized that he couldn’t hear what you were saying.

All the tables had been wiped down, the chairs by the table turned upside down, laying on the tabletops. The floor still streaked with what was definitely a mop, and guilt bubbled in his stomach. You were closing up, and by the looks of it, were nearly done as well.

Kirishima paused, he was here one minute before closing, and he froze. The heavy wooden door closing behind him with an awkwardly loud thud that only seemed to thunder in his ears as the world finally caught up.

“―anything?”

Kirishima blinked, his cheeks exploding with heat.

“What?”

He hadn’t heard you utter a single word.

He watched the way your lips pulled into an endearing, yet slightly exasperated smile, your eyes rolling.

“Did you want anything?” you repeated, hands placed on your hips in a taunting, near commanding way. “Coffee’s still on the pot, so if you want anything, let me know!”

“Did you already clean up?” Kirishima asks, his eyes falling to the floor to find the different wet streaks on the tile and avoid them if his shoe was dirty. He stops when he sees the cleaned and cleared coffee counter, and guilt floods him. “It looks like you’re mostly cleaned up; I don’t want you to get things dirty again, it’s okay.”

“It’ll take me five minutes tops to clean back up!” you retort, hands already moving to grab a to-go cup for him to have.

“No, no!” Kirishima exclaims, moving back towards the door as fast as he could. He didn’t want to cause you more work, and if anything, he would just wait for you to leave the shop, and he would simply walk you back to your apartment! That seemed like the more manly thing to do, right? “It’s okay! I’m okay! I’ll live without a cup!”

You snorted, slamming the cup onto the counter with definitive intentions, “Don’t be ridiculous, coffee addict!” you pointed to the spot before the cash register, pen in hand as you readied to write down his order. “Come. Don’t be silly! Can you turn off the open sign for me, though! What do you want?”

“I feel bad,” Kirishima frowns, turning off the neon light per request before turning back towards you. His hands stuffed into his pockets. “You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I don’t have to,” you say with a grin and a roll of your eyes. “But since I’m the reason your addiction is a thing, I’m more than happy to deal with the consequences, Kiri.”

There’s a beat, and Kirishima walks to the counter, his lower lip jutted out in a small pout, but the energetic smile painted on your lips melts his pout into a smile immediately.

“What do you suggest?”

“Café de Olla.”

His face scrunches at the so, very not Japanese words that come from your mouth.

“Cafe de la what?”

He watches your smile brighten by a tenfold, enjoying the way your eyes easily glitter with your mirth as you turn away from him.

“Café de Olla,” you repeat again, and he can only assume it’s Spanish. “It’s a Mexican coffee, that one of the transfer students we hired from Mexico introduced us to!” Kirishima watched as you went to a small pot of coffee, put a cleaned ladle in, and eventually poured in a slightly steaming cup of dark coffee. “I can’t remember the ingredients, but the main one is cinnamon! I know you like cinnamon, and since you’re a big boy black coffee drinker now, I think you’ll like it!”

Kirishima missed the teasing look on your face when you placed the truly dark coffee in front of him.

“Um,” Kirishima nervously laughed, staring at the cup of dark liquid before him. He hated black coffee. “Are you… are you gonna put any sugar or milk in it?”

“Nope! Drink up, handsome!”

Kirishima whimpered at both the nickname you had been calling him as of late and the coffee before him. Eventually, he picked up the warm cup, not at all deceived by the warm, sweet aroma of the cup of coffee in his hand ― the black coffee had smelled sweet too. Not one to back down, especially as you were in the process of cleaning up for the day, he took a hesitant, gentle sip of the coffee and froze.

Despite the bitter, dark persona the steaming cup gave, the liquid was sweet.

Very sweet.

It was light in its spice, warming him gently, and giving him a world of flavors he hadn’t been aware of. He drank the rest of it eagerly.

“Good, right?!” you exclaimed excitedly, having caught onto what Kirishima already knew to be his unmistakable likeness. “I wasn’t too sure of it at first either! I mean, I don’t really dabble with straight black coffee, but this just hits differently!”

Kirishima placed his sample down, the back of his hand rubbing his wet lips, his smile wide and excited. He couldn’t believe he actually liked a cup of coffee! “That was SO good, fuck! I didn’t think I was going to like that! Can I have a cup of this?”

He watched as you nodded your head excitedly, more stray pieces of hair falling out of place, framing your face even more as you grabbed the cup and made due to filling it up. Kirishima watched you the entire time you filled his cup up, his fingers blindly holding his bills of cash to give to you.

‘I’m going to do it,’ he thought as you placed a lid on the cup.

‘You got this!’ he encouraged himself as you walked over, handing off the warm cup into his hands. He softly smiled at the feeling of your warm, soft fingers brushing familiarly against his own.

‘DO IT!’

“Y-Y/l/n―”

“Babycakes, are you done out here?!” a voice hollered, and Kirishima stilled when a face emerged from the back. “I’m exhausted and ready to go!”

He watched as a tall girl with green eyes and brown hair emerged from the back room, her arms stretched precariously over her head, stepped into the bar. And the world slowed when her arms quickly enveloped you.

It was then that he remembered what you had said yesterday. The way that your face morphed from apologetic to bashful, the fluster in your eyes, and the way you bit your lip nervously as you said you had something to confess to him… was she… your confession?

“Ami!” you spluttered, and Kirishima watched the way the girl who was draped over your body, much taller than you were, smile at you endearingly as you, in your fluster, failed to get her off. “Kirishima ― a customer is here!”

The word customer echoed like a bell in the world's deepest cave in Kirishima’s ear.

He was just…

He was just a customer, after all.

His smile faded from a genuine one to a phony one as he watched your coworker/girlfriend fight you on showing affection, and eventually, you won.

“S-Sorry about that!” you stammered, trying to fix your outfit, your hair chaotically was undone. His throat nearly sealed off when your pristine eyes locked back up his; he felt light under your gaze, but oh, so, cold. “You were saying?”

“Just… um, thank you!” Kirishima mustered a feeble laugh, his hand grabbing the coffee in his hand, and without so much as a goodbye, he left the coffee shop. Your echoing salutation doing nothing but making him nauseous as heartbreak overtook him.

F I V E

The last time you had seen Kirishima, you served him the café de olla during that night, which was weeks ago.

By weeks you meant nearly two months; finals season had just finished.

Despite your obvious disappointment in not seeing the one person you were enamored with, you reasoned with yourself with every disappointing redhead who would enter the coffeeshop that you had never asked for his phone number, and he was an engineering student. He had to be busy.

Even if he wasn’t busy, you tried to reason, your brow set in a knit position as you washed the ceramic cups in the sink, he had every reason to never show back up again. He wasn’t your boyfriend or anything…

Thankfully, you heard the all too familiar sound of the front door being opened, and now with new company policy, you called out in greetings.

“Welcome!”

You quickly patted your hands dry on your apron, knowing that your coworker was on break at the moment, and turned to the entrance of the shop, and froze.

It was an all too familiar head of bright red spikes.

“Kiri!” you exclaimed happily, rushing over to the register with a bright, wide smile as you restrained yourself from flinging over the counter and hugging him tightly. Of course, that would have been both unprofessional and probably pushing the boundaries of your friendship/one-sided affections. “It’s been so long, how are you?!”

Kirishima stood on the other side of the counter, his hands shoved into his blue hoodie pocket, his eyes for the first time ever almost empty, the smile you knew he wore almost religiously, nowhere to be seen. In lieu of the smile, were lips pressed into a stout line, his face puckered just slightly enough as if he had smelled something sour moments before.

What was going on?

“You okay?” you ask, your once outstretched arms retracting into yourself, seeing that he was not reciprocating your movements. Your head tilted. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, Ei,” came a new voice. “Is something wrong?”

You almost startled when a girl with curly, pink hair seemed to appear from behind Kirishima. She had eyes of liquid gold, and a teasing smile on her face as she nudged Kirishima. “What’s going on?”

Your stomach flips in unwelcomed jealousy, your teeth biting the inside of your cheek in hopes that the girl wouldn’t catch on.

When the seconds felt like minutes of silence, the girl merely sighed, her attention focusing onto you with a look of slight mischief.

“Please excuse my friend―” you relax with the f word― “we’ve been friends since grade school, and he’s never been like that! Maybe he caught a bug during breakfast?”

“Mina…” Kirishima spoke softly, not quite a warning, not quite a whine.

“You must be the famous ‘y/l/n,’ I’ve heard so much about you!” the girl ― Mina ― exclaimed excitedly, her hands grabbing yours while nodding excitedly. “When I heard that Ei hadn’t gone for coffee in so long, I obviously had to force him to come! That and he totally made one of our friends throw away my coffee, and I need the coffee in my bloodstream to survive my dumb classes!”

The one-sided tension between you and Mina expelled quickly.

“Kiri hasn’t been here in a while, but I’m sure he’s got his reasons,” you defend your crush, your smile soft as you traded your locked gaze on Mina to look at Kirishima, who weakly, barely, horribly returned the smile. “But I can definitely help with the coffee! What can I get for you?”

“Good question…” Mina sighed, her eyes studying the menu with practiced skill.

Eventually, Mina ordered a chai tea latte with an oat milk substitution, a pump of caramel, and two shots of espresso. She squealed with delight when you placed her order in front of her, and maybe had you not been excited to get Kiri’s answer, you would have noticed the way his friend strategically walked towards the door to give you two your space.

“So, how can I help ya, handsome?” you ask, your smile back to full power, although a bit shy, unaffected by the brick wall of a man before you. “We’re out of the café de olla right now, but if you don’t mind waiting fifteen minutes, I can make you a fresh batch!”

That’s a lie, the pot of Mexican coffee is still completely filled, ready for Kirishima should he want it. But you were selfish; you were trying to get him to stay longer.

“Nah, that’s okay,” Kirishima shakes his head. “I don’t wanna bug ya. I’ll just take a caramel latte, no worries.”

Disappointment rams through you, but you try your best at hiding it.

“Oh, okay! I’ll get that started for you!” you try to chirp, grabbing a to-go cup and beginning the relatively short task. “How’ve you been?” you ask, trying to initiate old conversations.

“Good.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear! How were your finals? Mine was terrible! I had a professor who forgot what time section we were, so not only were we given only thirty minutes to finish the exam, but there was no compensation for his mistake!”

“Wow… that sucks. Mine were fine.”

“Nothing crazy happened?”

“No.”

“Um, okay… well, did you see that the animated Crimson Riot movie is out?!” you ask, pathetically hopeful that the biggest conversation card you held right now would give you something better than these simple, halfhearted responses. The movie had had no promos, just a message from the local theaters that it had been made and to come and watch it.

“Yup.”

…

“Oh, that’s cool! I just found out this morning when my dad called me! I’m not near home, so I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come and watch it with me?”

You froze. Was that a date you had asked him out on? It was, wasn’t it?! Your face exploded with heat, your fingers trembling as you poured the finished hot coffee into the cup.

“...I’d rather not.”

Oh.

“T-That’s okay! I’m sure I can find a friend or something to go watch it with me… or I’ll just wait until a holiday to see it with my dad… if it’s still out.”

“Hopefully, it’s still out by then,” Kirishima muttered, his face refusing to look at you, his eyes buried into his wallet as he handed you the change for his drink. “Thanks.” he rushed, grabbing his cup and turning on his heel.

“What’s wrong with you?” you manage to ask before you can keep your mouth shut, but you can’t help it. Your chest aches with his dismissal, with every sentence he spoke that horribly and effectively shut you down before you even had a chance. In the end, it seemed that your hurt feelings won out your need to be polite. “Did something happen? A-Are you okay? Did I do something?”

Kirishima freezes in his path.

“No, nothing happened.”

That was not the answer you were hoping to get.

“Then why are you acting like this?” you ask, your voice bordering a desperate plea for an answer.

For the past many weeks, you had never once thought that he had been avoiding you, ignoring you. You thought that maybe he had just been busy with his personal life, too busy with school and work to spare his free time entertaining you at work. But even if you were disillusioned with your admiration and feelings for him, you knew the two of you were friends. You had to have been friends!

Silence.

“What’s going on?” you ask again, your voice feeling small and weak.

“Nothing,” Kirishima reiterates, his head turning so you both looked at each other through the corner of his eyes. “Nothing happened, I just… couldn’t show up.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like being around you, not anymore.”

Those words wash over you like freezing water; they’re harsh, cruel, and mean. His face twisting up as if he was some snarling, upset animal. He didn’t want to be here, his face screamed, he felt like some cornered, caged animal.

Muted anger and heartache wash over you, your head nodding numbly as you laugh humorlessly. You had been the problem.

“Sorry for… for making you feel obligated in showing up,” you whisper, your soul feeling as though it was leaving your body, your face twisted in the horribleness in his words.

I don’t like being around you, not anymore.

He wasn’t even apologizing… he’d meant it… didn’t he?

Kirishima moves to walk away, his eyes glazed over similarly to your own, but you’re not done. Not quite yet.

“You know,” you manage to speak out, your voice starting off paltrily, an almost chuckle tickling the back of your throat, humming deeply in your chest. He stops. “This entire time, you always boasted about being ‘manly’… about being chivalrous and a decent human being. For the most part, I’ve always agreed and thought that you were manly, chivalrous, and a more than decent human being but now… I can’t believe you. You really came all this way after two months of avoiding me to tell me that you would never be showing up again? That the reason for you not returning was because you’re sick of me?”

He’s silent for a bit, and it's then you notice the tears falling down your face, “Thought it was manlier to tell you I wasn’t coming back then to stop showing up without a reason.”

“You already did that!” you snapped, suddenly piercing, thundering anger running through every cell of your body, raising the hair on your body. “You’re being a complete fucking dick now, Kirishima! For what? At least before I thought it was because you’re busy, but no, you just had to tell me it was because of me! Oh my god?! To think I have a crush on you?! That I was ready to confess to you the next fucking time we had a moment together?!”

You felt hysterical, his reasoning jumbling and twisting in your mind, not at all feeling coherent, and your blazing feelings that were now biting you in the ass… you wanted to make him feel guilt most of all. With tears falling bitterly, angrily down your face, you stared at Kirishima. He was finally facing you, looking you dead on with emotion-filled eyes and a gaping fish mouth ― opening and closing pathetically.

“Get out,” you spoke with a serenity you were not quite feeling, your finger thrust toward the front door.

“Y-Y/l/n―”

“I don’t want to hear it,” you laugh bitterly, no longer wanting to have whatever it is that he wanted to say.

He was just a customer, not a friend, only a customer.

You didn’t need to be his friend anymore.

“Get. Out. Now.”

You didn’t wait for him to leave, turning on your heel, you walked to the backroom, not daring to return to the front until he left.

You’d forgotten how much rejection hurt.

O N E

Whoever said heartbreak was healed with a wild night out, a pint of ice cream and crying had clearly been built differently from you.

One wild night out with your friends, two pints of ice cream, and thirty crying sessions later, you were still sulking as you simply existed. You weren’t even sure why you were overreacting either?! He had been a crush, not a boyfriend!

Lord save you for whenever an actual reciprocated lover dumped you, you were probably never going to recover. Still, you couldn’t let it affect you all that much; you were still going about your day as you usually would, just… sulking.

“You’re a blessing in my life,” your coworker sighed as she came out from the back, her hands moving to release her hair from her bun, her purse slung against her chest as she continued to thank you. “I promise you the next time we work together, I’ll clean up on my own!”

You shake your head, waving her off as you dried some of the dishes lying about.

“We aren’t busy, and there’s no one here, I’ll clean up just fine!” you laugh, glancing over your shoulder to look at her. “Just buy me a pastry tomorrow or something. I’ve closed on my own many times, I’ll be fine! There's no coffee demand this late at night anyway!”

“Fine! I won’t forget! But don’t complain if there’s more than one pastry!”

“Oh my god, LEAVE!” you yell, blindly pointing at the door for her to leave, and you hear her resounding laughter as she finally does go.

“Oops, sorry, welcome and excuse me!” you hear her exclaim as she steps out, and you turn around, already knowing that it’s a customer.

Taking your coworkers' welcome as the company greeting, you merely shouted out that you’d be right with them as you finished washing ― you were almost done with them anyways. Finally done, you turned around, eyes on your thighs as you dried your hands on your apron.

“Alright, how can I help…” you froze when you caught sight of familiar, warm red eyes. “...you.”

Kirishima.

He looked at you with blushing, puffed cheeks, his eyes full of mixing, swirling emotions that you probably couldn’t handle to hear (especially if he had come to yell at you). You don’t know what to do, merely looking at him before sighing.

“The usual?” you ask, moving to get things as smoothly and effortlessly as you could (you had been yelled at for your emotional outburst by your boss).

“Uh, actually, no. I’m okay,” Kirishima spoke up as soon as you pulled out a paper cup, and you stopped, looking at him with your best attempt at dull, emotionless eyes.

“What can I get for you then?” you try again, hating the way that you want to smile at him, to pretend that nothing happened two weeks ago; that this was his first time back.

“I have to confess something,” Kirishima states, his fingers fisting into his ridiculous mismatched athleisure clothing. “I actually really, really, really hate coffee…”

You blinked.

You hadn’t expected that confession.

“Um, okay? Well, then can I make you some―”

“I’m not quite done, sorry,” Kirishima apologized, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in his embarrassment. “I hate coffee, and I don’t like being dishonest, but really, I feel like I’ve been lying to you this entire time.”

“...what?”

“I told you at some point that I had come into this shop by coincidence, but that’s not true! I’ve been passing by for months before stepping foot into here! I had always seen you working through the front window, and you just… you captivated me from that very moment, but I’ve been too weak, nervous, and totally unmanly and could never build up the courage to come in! It took me a year to build up the courage to come in ― which is why I nearly broke the front door that first day! I was so nervous about messing up; I just overexerted my strength!”

Kirishima laughed, his hands raking through his spiked hair, and you could only stare at him as the gelled hair began to fall under his ministrations.

“See, the truth is, I’ve liked you for a long time. Like a long time. And then, when I came in, and we became friends, I only fell for you even more, and I’ve been trying to work up the courage to confess to you! But every time I tried, something bad happened! Like the grouchy old man in the line, how you got sick and couldn’t work! But a true man doesn’t give up until it’s over… and I thought that girl who was hugging you and kissing your cheek that one day was your girlfriend, so I gave up! But the thing is, I was a coward, so fucking unmanly that I couldn’t be around you without you being mine! And so I left because it hurt… but it hurt not being around you, so Mina brought me here! But then you said… you said you liked me back, and unless you’re in a polyamorous relationship, there’s no way for you to have said feelings and confess them to me like that!”

He stopped, his breath frantic, panting, and you could only look up with him with a mirrored breathing pattern despite your quietness.

“I’m here because I’m tired of being weak and unmanly. I’m here because I have deep feelings for you, and I want to ask you out!”

You’re silent for a bit, the temerity of his words loud and clear in your ears, ringing with the need to be addressed. For the first time since he had walked out of your life for the first time, a warmth bubbled in your chest.

“You know,” you whisper, your eyes locked with his, the tears in your eyes freely showing. “This coffee shop does, in fact, have tea?”

“Wha―?”

He doesn’t have the chance to finish the curious ask, your hands grabbing his shirt and bringing him close, his nose brushing against yours but your lips hovering below his own.

“Can I kiss you?” you whisper, your eyes falling to his lips for a second before coming back to his eyes that shone brightly, vividly, excitedly.

“Please?”

Your lips found themselves pressed against his, and the two of you stood there, leaning against the counter by the cash register. Lips passionately, smoothly, deeply pressing against one another as electricity traveled slowly down your spine as his hands pressed against your ribcage. When you pulled away, his eyes fluttered open after yours, and he had the brightest, dumbest smile on his face.

“Would you like to go see the Crimson Riot movie with me?”

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

Text

Interlude - Rewrite - POYW- Harry Hook x reader - Part 1 - New beginnings

*felt like doing an episode entrance to this so deal with it*

-a shot of the isle pans across the screen with Descendants™ background music playing, before turning and panning across the ocean towards Auradon. It cuts to the dorms and fades into Evie and Mal's room, where Evie is shifting through a tall stack of papers.-

Evie turned her face towards her door as it suddenly opened and Mal stepped in “hey E, still at it?” Mal dropped her (Ben’s) letterman jacket on her bed and sat across from Evie, leaning over in the chair to take a look at the papers Evie was working on.

“yep” Evie let out a small sigh, giving Mal a small smile before looking back at the papers “I still can't believe Ben had to go through all of this just to get us six over, half of it is guardian responsibility shit”

Mal quirked her brow at that and reached out towards Evie, doing the ‘gimme’ motion. Evie handed her six sheets of paper, the front one reading;

'Application of guardianship

Child; Jay - parent; Jafar

Guardian applicant - Aladdin’

the rest of the paper was just info and numbers, all of which Mal didn’t bother to read. she set the paper down and continued to read.

'Application of guardianship

Child; Gil - parent; Gaston

Guardian applicant - Eugene Fitzherbert’

Evie took Jay's paper and set it down beside her, taking Gil’s as Mal set it down a moment later.

'Application of guardianship

Child; Evie - parent; Evil Queen aka. Queen Grimhilde

Guardian applicant - Ella Charming’

“who’s Ella?” Mal asked aloud, setting the paper on top of Evie's new pile and looking back at the last three.

“Cinderella” Evie answered lightly, grabbing her pen and crossing out a couple of lines on her paper “that’s why she was on our side during family day, I guess she already knew who we were”

“and here I thought it was because she knew what we went through” Mal snorted, drawing her thumb against her name on the paper.

'Application of guardianship

Child; Mal - parent; Maleficent

Guardian applicant - Megara’

Mal quirked her brow again, turning the papers towards Evie and pointing at the guardian’s name “who’s Megara?”

Evie took a quick glance and shrugged “no clue” Mal shrugged back and set the paper on the pile.

'Application of guardianship

Child; Carlos De’vil - parent; Cruella De’vil

Guardian applicant - Anita Radcliffe’

Mal let out a small hum at that, so the person who Carlos’ mother had hurt, had decided to be the guardian of Carlos?...cool, she knew that there were heroes that didn’t judge them for their parent's decisions but it was nice to know that some of those who had been directly affected held no bad blood against them.

'Application of guardianship

Child; Harry Hook - parent; James Hook

Guardian applicant - Wendy Darling’

“huh” Mal snorted, setting the last paper on the pile, which Evie grabbed and straightened it and set it on her other side with the other read-through papers “Wendy Darling is Harry's guardian” Evie smiled at that.

“aw, cute…” then she snorted “I’m sorry the image of Harry wearing a baby blue sleep dress with a big pink bow on his head just came to mind” Mal covered her mouth and her forehead hit the desk as her body shook with laughter “I’m sorry” Evie giggled, leaning back in her chair and covering her eyes. “ahhh It won't leave~!”

“noooo Evie that’s going to be stuck in my head for like a month how dare you!” Mal screeched, lifting her head and reaching out to gently smack at Evie “I need bleach E, bleach!”

Evie pushed her hands away and shook her head “I’d rather you not go blind M” Mal just pouted and sunk back in her chair “also, I do need to get back to work so?” Mal sat up and gestured to the papers, picking up the pile Evie had set aside and starting to read, wanting to be involved in the program.

The room was silent other than the occasional shift of papers and scratch of a pen. Then mal popped her head back up to look at Evie, who glanced up at Mal and quirked her brow.

“oh, I heard you got appointed captain of the science league!” Mal grinned as Evie's entire face brightened, her eyes sparkling.

“yeah! I don’t even know how it happened, but Doug told me about this little contest with chemistry and I joined and I guess the winner got to be captain? But yes! And there's a championship after school starts up again!” Mal hummed with interest, leaning on her hand and listening intently as Evie went into her usual rambles.

“so it basically like that math league thing Carlos did for like two months, they ask us questions and stuff like that, and there's a physical part to it as well, the captain and three others on the team compete with the other team with an unknown challenge to create a certain chemical or other, last year they were challenged to make a chemical reaction, and our team won with making foam volcanos with beakers, all different colors, they had to make the chemicals used and everything from scratch with the bases they were given”

“that’s dope” Mal responded simply, not knowing what to say but wanting to keep Evie engaged.

“I know right!” Evie giggled, clapping her hands together slightly “we actually did the same experiment a bit before summer break started, we also launched soda bottles into the sky!”

Mal grinned at that “and yes I will show you how to do it, though I’m keeping the mentos away from you” Mal shook her head slightly, setting down the papers in her left hand and stretching.

“gah~” she glanced out the window, groaning at how dark it was already getting “wow how long have we been at this?” Evie pushed in her rambling and looked outside, gasping as she saw what Mal was talking about. It wasn’t pitch black, but the sun was beginning to set.

“holy shit how long have we been at this?” she pulled out her phone and bit her lip “it’s already dinner time!” Mal shoot up at that and grabbed her (Ben’s) jacket and slid it on, walking over to the door while looking back at Evie.

“come on! (y/n) said it was spaghetti night with garlic-ow!” the door opened in Mal's face, smacking her in the nose and making her stumble back.

“Mal!” Doug winched, swiftly closing the door and reaching out to the whining half-fae “shoot I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were behind the door!”

“knock next time” Mal muttered from behind her hands, her eyes screwed as pain thumped from her nose.

“I will I will- I’m so sorry” Doug stressed, pulling back slightly as Mal waved him off.

“forgiven, it was an accident.” Mal pulled her hand off her nose and wiggled it, looking towards Evie and Doug with raised brows “well?”

“no blood” Evie chirped, quickly organizing the papers and grabbing her bag, slinging it over her shoulder and grabbing onto Mal's hand to pull her out of the room “come on, I’m starving~”

“that’s what I came to get you for” Doug spoke up, stepping up next to Evie as the three of them made their way to the cafeteria “I noticed the two of you weren’t there yet and I didn’t want you to miss dinner”

“thank you, Doug,” Evie cooed, Mal leaned forward a bit to smile at Doug

“what she said” Doug smiled back and nodded.

“no problem” it was a quick walk to the cafeteria, and when they entered Mal immediately separated from Evie and got in line, bouncing on her heels as the smell of garlic bread hit her.

Evie walked over to the table that was occupied by the vks and set her bag in-between Jay and Gil. “hi~” she sang, before spinning around and joining Mal in the line.

You looked up from your food for a moment, eyeing Evie's bag for a moment for no other reason than knowing she always had peppermint puffs in them before going back to eating.

The table was mostly silent other than Gil and Jay talking about their next season of tourney, Carlos typing away on his laptop, and Harry's foot tapping on the floor.

A few moments later Mal and Evie joined the five of you at the table, Evie taking her bag off the seat and taking its place, while Mal plopped next to Carlos and immediately starting slurping up her spaghetti “those etiquette lessons really didn't do much huh Mal~” Evie teased, laughing as Mal glared at her and knocked her wrists together twice.

“I should have never introduced you to friends” you laughed, setting down your fork and grabbing your drink, deciding to change the subject as Evie and Mal started to throw fake ‘fuck you’ signs “before you and Evie start fake flipping each other off, how was your first day of therapy Mal?”

Mal paused for a moment, pursing her lips “it was….therapy? I don’t know how to answer that?”

You shrugged in response “well, did it feel awkward? Did the therapist push you too much? Or was it just kinda…okay?” Mal looked at you for a moment before looking at her hands in thought.

“it…the most we did today was just getting to know each other, something about me being comfortable was the entire point of the therapy thing, and that I should only tell her things if I feel like it, that I should never feel forced to tell her things” you smiled at that, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder gently.

“then it was a great first session, now just remember it's twice a week, okay?” Mal snorted, gently slapping off your hand.

“yeah yeah, ever since cotillion E’s been helping me make a schedule so my brain doesn’t break again from trying to remember every single thing” Evie nodded in confirmation and tossed a meatball in her mouth.

“Nice, speaking of Evie, how's the going through the shit ton of papers?” you asked with a teasing smile, laughing as Evie kicked at your leg with a pout.

“Exhausting” Evie sighed, slumping into her hand and pushing around her food slightly “I've only gotten through half of it and that was all guardian stuff!” the rest of the vks raised their brows at that.

“Guardian?” Carlos asked, closing his laptop slightly “what do you mean guardian”

You took the chance to explain since Evie might’ve not known the exact reason why the vks had guardians “It was one of the demands of the council; because you guys are underage, you needed a legal adult to claim you just in case something happened, and since your parents are on the isle and can't come off, Ben asked some adults in Auradon to be your guardians. essentially if any of you land in the hospital and need to be signed out by a legal guardian, they’ll come to do that”

The vks nodded slowly, then turned to Evie “Sooo who are they?” Gil asked, biting down on a garlic cheese biscuit.

Evie shrugged slightly “Um, well mine’s Cinderella” the others gave her a look “I know, I don’t think Chad knows, um, Mal’s is a woman named Megara” Mal butt in for a moment.

“Have no clue who that is by the way” you laughed at that, Mal turning to you with curious eyes.

“I know, Megara is Hercules wife, like, daughter-in-law of Zeus and all that” Mals jaw dropped a bit as she nodded.

“Oh…alrighty then…oh wait! The one that had a deal with Hades n stuff?!” you nodded at that.

“The same” Gil perked up and asked you who was his guardian “um, Eugene Fitzherbert, Harry’s is Wendy Darling” Harry did a small spit take at that “Yeah that’s why she was nice on family day love” you chuckled, patting his pat as he coughed out his apple juice. “um, Carlos your guardian is Anita Radcliffe, and yes the one that your mom stole the puppies from” Carlos looked at you with utterly confused eyes “I know sounds weird, anyway, Jay's guardian is Aladdin” Jay's food dropped back on his plate as he stared at you “Yeah something about ‘knowing what you had gone through’ and all that…I just realized we're going to have to go through all of that guardian shit again” you groaned slightly, rubbing your face in frustration, you had spent several late nights with Ben just going through the, though scarce, application paperwork for the vks.

The council had made it hell to get the first six vks over to Auradon, Ben only being able to pull through it thanks to it being his first proclamation. But now since it was turning into more of a program than a proclamation, the council would probably make it hard again.

“Why?” Gil asked, frowning as you let out a frustrated puff of air.

“Well as I said, for you six to come, you had to have guardians, and we were damn lucky to find six adults who didn’t hold a grudge against yall for your parents, and…wait how old is Harriet?” you suddenly sat up straight as the realization came to you.

“um,” Harry tapped the table as he mentally counted “she a little younger than the isle…she was born in September so…18 righ’ now” you grinned “wha’?”

“She's a legal adult” it took a moment for the rest of the table to realize what you were talking about but it hit them a moment later.

“Harriet can be a guardian!” Evie sang happily, clapping her hands together in excitement “Oh, wait!” she stopped, pursing her lips slightly “Um, I hadn’t gotten to that part of the papers yet, how many kids to a guardian?”

“Two at most, if they aren’t biologically related to you, Harriet is automatically CJ and Harry's guardian when she comes, so then technically Harry you’ll have two, so possibly we can have Harriet sign up to be the twin's guardian…how old is Sammy?” Harry furrowed his brows in thought then snapped his fingers.

“In two months, he’s turning 18” you hummed as you tapped your finger against your chin.

“I don’t want to wait that long unless we have to, I guess for Sammy and Dizzy we’ll just have to find some more people willing to be guardians or see if any of yours are willing to be responsible for another kid.”

A flash of pink caught your eye as the table delved into “New vks” talk and you looked up to see Audrey walking into the food line, her posture stiff. You shared a look with Ben, who was at a table with his friends, and stood, dragging your hand across Harry's back as you did, and walked over to the girl.

“Audrey?” she jumped slightly, her honey-brown eyes widening as she realized it was you “Hi, when did you get back from the cottage?” she shrugged slightly, stepping forward in line as it moved.

“A couple hours ago, I stayed a bit longer after Chad helped fix my tire at the request of my godmothers” she gave you a small, though strained, smile “um, how you been?” you shrugged, nodding back towards the vks.

“Eh, we’ve been going over the thousands of papers to start on the next round of vks, I’m tired as fuck but ill deal with it” Audrey let out a soft laugh and the two of you walked a bit as the food line moved again.

“Grammie talked about that…” you could sense the frustration behind her words, meaning her grandmother had gone off about your attempts about more vks the entire time and Audrey didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“Sorry about that, um, did you hear Ben and Mal broke up?” Audrey just shrugged.

“yeah, my Grammy went insane over it, something about me having a clear chance with Ben again but I did my best to ignore her ya know?” you grinned at that, it seemed you had broken through some of her grandmothers hold on her, and were slowly removing the idea that she was responsible in being the sole provider of status In her family “cause I remembered what you said when Ben originally broke up with me, and I was kinda mentally like ‘well it’s not my job and I don’t care?’ and I realized as I was there….I don’t…think about Ben that way anymore” Audrey gave you a small smile, glancing back towards Ben as she did “instead of those butterflies I always got when I think of him... it's just….normal, like when I was a kid and dating wasn’t even a thing in my head…its…nice” her smile grew a bit “oh um,” she pointed at the line, which the two of you were almost at the trays

You smiled and patted her shoulder “no problem, I’m glad you doing good Audrey, it would have been nice to see you at cotillion, but I understand if that would have been hard” she nodded and grabbed a tray, waving you off as you walked back to the vks table and sat back down next to Harry.

“When did Audrey get back?” Mal asked, finishing off her garlic bread and glancing between you and Audrey.

“a couple hours ago” you responded simply, stabbing your last two meatballs and stuffing them in your mouth.

“oh” Mal looked between you and Audrey before going back to her food “okay, I just haven’t seen her all day then”

“for a second there I thought you were going to go fight or something” you joked, smiling a bit as Mal shook her head adamantly.

“heck no, why would I go out of my way to antagonize her?...well I mean I probably would have a couple months ago but…that would be just weird and…how would you say it? Out of character?” Carlos snorted at that “what?”

“Nothing I was just remembering how you went blonde and pastel for several months and that wasn’t ‘out of character’ for you?” Carlos used hand quotes as he spoke, laughing as Mal reached over the table to smack at him.

“Ney! I was having an identity crisis! I’m allowed to do out-of-character shit like that!”

“Switching the topic again” Jay interrupted, laughing slightly as Mal and Carlos continued to smack at each other “how's the search for Uma going?” Harry and Gil perked up at that. Mal stopped smacking Carlos and let out a low groan. “No luck?”

“not a tentacle in sight” she leaned on her palm “Then again I haven’t really been on the search party as of late, something about my school and everything else being more important”

“Do you think we’ll find her?” Evie asked, furrowing her brows as Mal shrugged “Well we have to soon, won't we? I mean she's a danger to Auradon” Evie squeaked a bit as she caught Harry and Gil's glare, your hand gently pushing on Harry's arm to prevent any…messes “Why are you two looking at me like that?”

“You called their friend a dangerous person, I think they are allowed to be a little pissed” you hummed, turning to Harry and giving him a look. He huffed and pouted down at the last of his dinner.

“But she spelled Ben? And she tried to get FGs wand to take control of Auradon!” Evie pushed, flinching back a bit as you looked at her with unamused eyes.

“Hypocrite much?” Carlos laughed a bit through his nose at your snark, looking down at his laptop as Evie, Mal, and Jay looked at you slightly confused “Oh come on you three, you can't have forgotten what you did only 7 months ago? You also spelled Ben, you also tried to get the want to control Auradon. You’re the kettle calling the pot black, Uma may have gone around the entire thing differently but all in all, she had the exact same plan as you six did.”

Mal, Evie, and Jay looked at each other uncomfortably before they looked at Carlos, who just rose his brow as if he was saying ‘you really gonna act like you’re better than her? Really? “She's right you know” Carlos hummed, looking back at his summer project “Uma is hardly different to us when we first came here, if the roles were reversed, I’m sure she would say the same about us”

Mal pouted for a moment before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath “I…suppose so” she grumbled, crossing her arms, Carlos just looked at her.

“Mal, you two have been at each other's throats since you were 10, most of it was you going after her, and her retaliating. I think it's time you let it go” Mal opened her mouth to argue but Harry glared at her, making her snap her mouth shut.

“I know yeh are tryin ta be better yeh imp, but tryin’ ta demonize Uma fer something yeh started is not helping yeh in meh books” Harry snarled, he and Mal having a glare off as tension raised at the table.

“Okay okay, that’s enough” you gently pushed Harrys face away from Mal and snapped your fingers in front of her face, making her blink wildly in surprise “I don’t want a bloodbath in the cafeteria please, anyway, Mal if I remember correctly, you did start the whole rivalry debacle, and I know why you did the whole stupid ‘shrimpy’ thing. It was just because your mother was an idiot and you need to leave that shit behind, if you continue to see Uma as a villain, that’s all she’ll ever be, it’s the same with you six, if the people of Auradon saw you as villains that’s what you would have become, and don’t try to tell me otherwise because I know exactly what went down on family day.”

The vks cringed at the mention of the horrid day. “I know, but you six were having doubts about your plans and then family day came along, so in turn, you decided to go through with everything. It’s the same with Uma, if you push her towards the label of Villain, she’ll accept it and rain hell on you and Auradon. So, you need to let your dumb rival shit go and see Uma as she really is, a troubled teen who has only had her mother's guidance on life and has been taught evil her entire life. Guess who that sounds like?” Mal sighed, crossing her arms and pouting at the table “hmm?”

“me” Mal finally admitted, closing her eyes “it sounds exactly like me”

“and me” Evie muttered, scratching her cheek as her eyes watered slightly at the memories of her mother surfaced.

“I’m sorry if that brought up bad memories but you three, mostly Mal and Evie, Jay you’ve been quiet but I could tell you were agreeing with everything” Jay winced at that “were acting like you are better than Uma when you’re not, she's just in the spot you all were in before and just after you came to Auradon.”

The vks were silent for a moment, the only sound being the usual noise of the cafeteria and Carlos typing away on his laptop. “and any new groups of VK’s we bring over may have the same mindset you six had when you originally came, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t get a chance, showing them kindness and that the path that their parents showed them is not the only way to live is our best bet to safely getting more kids off while not accidentally destroying Auradon in the process, but as far as I know, Uma is a big symbol to the kids, just as you six were, if you accept her, the other kids will be more willing to come, and less willing to follow their parent's orders. But first, you need to get over your shit with her”

Harry and Gil smiled at you, as the other four stared at you for a moment before Mal sighed and nodded “she’s right…as much as I don’t want to hear it, you’re right…fine, I’ll see if or when we find Uma, she is not booted back to the isle…I’m pretty sure Ben wasn't planning on doing that in the first place, he’s pretty adamant in giving her a chance”

Suddenly Ben's smiling face appeared behind Evie, looking at the seven at you “I heard my name?”

“We were talking about Uma and the vks” you said quickly, saving the others from attempting to cover up the conversation, even though they didn’t have to (it was a habit they had a hard time getting rid of)

“ah,” Ben hummed, glancing at his watch “yeah, that’s a…whole thing right there that we don’t have time to get into right now but!” he clapped his hands and looked from you to Evie “after you two are finished, if you could come to my office with the list? I want to get started on the new group as soon as possible and I need names and parents.”

You both nodded and watched as Ben smiled back and walked out of the cafeteria and back to his office to do his kingly duties. “I just realized the council might also prove some trouble in getting more kids off” you sighed, leaning into your hand again. The vks gave you a confused look “well you all know they have been why it’s been several months since you guys came and there have been no more vks. then Harry and I kept trying to get meetings with Ben to talk about the vks, but almost every time he either had a council meeting or”

you gestured to Mal, who winced “had a date with Mal, which I’m still pissed at him for doing that, but anyway” you waved off the mention of Bens agitating routine “even though it was stupid, they kept giving the argument that you six were a rarity in the whole of vks, and that we would risk the destruction of Auradon every time we took a group of vks off, and they kept voting to postpone the continuation of Bens vk transfer program. And they might keep doing with and succeed; and I hate saying this, thanks to Uma’s rampage at Cotillion.”

Evie grit her teeth slightly in anger, there were so many innocent kids on the isle that never deserved to be there and deserved a chance at a real-life, it wasn’t fair that the old geezers of the council would doom so many of them just because of one “bad” egg

You finished off your drink and slammed the cup onto your tray, standing with it and nodding towards the door “well I’m done, and I want to get this started and finished quickly” you leaned down and kissed Harry’s cheek as Evie nodded, quickly eating the last of her garlic bread and handing you her tray as you reached for it and went to go stash them away.

“bye, guys!” Evie called, the two of you running out of the cafeteria and towards her room to grab all the needed paperwork and the list.

“and if possible, I want to start on getting fresh food and other basic necessities shipped to the island” you finished, Ben immediately nodded at your request, writing it off on his notepad and underlining it.

“Sometimes I still can't believe my father let rotten food and garbage be their source of well…everything” Ben sighed, leaning back in his chair and holding his head.

“yeah…” you took a moment for Ben to process what was going through his mind before continuing “Because If we’re not able to get any kids off sooner than later, I want them to have a bit better of a living situation during the waiting period” Ben nodded again, sitting straight again and grabbing some of the papers Evie had revised and gone over.

“We might have to sneak around the council for some of this stuff, we all know that most of them hold a grudge against the vks for some reason, one of them being Audrey’s grandmother, and we all know what she's like” you and Evie shared a grimace.

“yeah…wait hold the phone” you waved your hands around, stopping the two from their work “Ben the council couldn’t vote on stopping the original transfer program, right? Since it was your first proclamation?” Ben nodded, leaning back a bit as a sharp grin bloomed on your face and you slammed your hands on the desk “This technically still counts as your first proclamation, they have no say on if you can or cannot bring more vks over! All we have to do is follow the steps you did last time and just…bring ‘em over! We might have some problems after that but fuck ‘em!” Ben stared at you for a moment, trying to realize what you were saying before it hit him.

“They can't vote on my first proclamation! They can only put rules on it! And since we closed ruling on it before you guys came” he pointed to Evie “they can't add any more rules! It's perfect!” “Let the bullshitting commence~!!!” you cackled. Lifting your hands in the air and spinning around “and if they try to send ‘em back because we went behind their backs, we can pull the fucking family card on ‘em!” Ben and Evie looked at you confused

“Harriet and CJ?! If they try to send them back for whatever shit reason you can just go” your voice drifted into a false light tone as you mocked Ben “ ‘oh, are you really going to send back these kids and separate a family?’ and just have Harry do that doe eye thing he does scarily well and BOOM! Six new vks here to stay~”

Evie stared at you while Ben did a mini celebration dance “(y/n) I now understand why Harry and Gil tell us not to piss you off, you are scary” you grinned at that and bowed.

“Thank you~ I do take pride in terrifying those who don’t understand my brilliance~”

Ben laughed a bit, turning back to his desk and pulling out the guardian applications “so what are we going to do about the guardians? (y/n) you mentioned something about Harriet being CJ’s guardian automatically so we wouldn’t need one for CJ?” you nodded, sitting back down in one of Bens cushy chairs.

“yeah, dunno if it’ll fully work out though so we should still pick out a guardian for her. And if it's possible, that Harriet could also be the twin's guardian, if I’m remembering correctly since Harriet is CJ’s biological guardian which in turn makes her CJ’s legal guardian, she could technically sign up to have two more kids under her name” Ben hummed slightly, shuffling through a stack of papers.

“i’mmm not sure, I think it’s possible, but what do we do about Dizzy and Sammy? They are both underage, aren’t they? And Harriet can’t be their guardian either”

you sighed, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your head “We can ask if any of the current guardians would be okay with being responsible for another vk, but I don’t know if they will go for it”

Ben glanced up at the clock and groaned “it's already almost curfew guys, I say we leave this for now and come back with fresh minds, it'll be easier to think when we're not dead tired”

“agreed” you and Evie chuckled, grabbing your things and waving Ben goodnight, walking back to your dorms.

“This is going to be a whole thing, isn’t it?” Ben sighed, shifting through the new vk applications, and Evie's two pound list, setting Harriet and CJs on top of Harry's file “but It’ll be worth it in the end”

-end of part 1-

part 1 yall~! we did it~!!!! i think to give myself some time to write the parts, ill be posting once a week, possibly on Saturdays (as to not post at the same time as @disneyfan50 because they post on Fridays with their amazing true defender fic and i don't want to possibly take away any of the stage from them that they so deserve because their writing is incredible and i’ll stop lol-) but yeah, Mini-series, here it is!!! i hope i’m doing good on the core fours characterization, and Mal’s, they are all still learning (while Carlos is a bit ahead of them because I've always seen him as the most emotionally mature) and unlearning stuff from the isle and Mal is learning to see that Uma and she arent really that different and Mal needs to stop being a hypocrite over things that Uma did that Mal did 6 months before her. :/

anyway Permtaglist!

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @imtryingthisout

@remembered-license @random-thoughts-003

@verboetoperee @thecaptainsgingersnap

@jatp-rules-my-life @rintheemolion

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #interlude #finale #shuffle playlist #rewrite #part of your world

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managedmischiefs · 3 years

Text

north//chapter nineteen

genre: fluff!! some angst

warnings: mentions of prison, ptsd and its symptoms (flashbacks, kinda)

word count: 6.1k

summary: spencer gets home and amelia helps him keep his head on straight.

pairing: season twelve/thirteen spencer reid x oc

AMELIA

Stepping back into my apartment after being away for over twenty-four hours is such a relief. Spencer, for some reason, didn't want to go back to his own apartment, so I happily bring him right to mine.

He's half asleep in my passenger seat, his head resting against the window and his hand smushed against his cheek. Despite the challenging circumstances, at every red light, I gaze over to admire how adorable he looks with puffy cheeks and flushed skin. He's fighting sleep as we journey to my apartment, and even though I've told him that he doesn't have to, I still see him forcing his eyes open every few seconds.

When we're just a few minutes from my apartment, I finally speak up. "So," I murmur, and he lifts his head slightly, "do you wanna do anything when we get home, or do you wanna go right to sleep?"

Spencer shakes his head and adjusts his position so he's leaning more towards me, his head almost resting on my shoulder. "I'm really tired but I'm hungry. And I wanna shower too. Do you have my stuff at your apartment still?"

"Of course I do, doll," I smile, reaching my hand over to rest on his cheek, keeping my eyes on the road. "I have your go-bag too. So a shower, some food, and then sleep. We can do that," Spencer turns his head and kisses my palm, capturing my hand in his and bring them into his lap. I pull up in front of my apartment and park my car, smiling over at my hazy and sleepy boyfriend. "Here, Spence."

We climb out of my car and go trudging up to my apartment, and I push my keys into the lock. I twist it but it doesn't make the clicking sound to tell me it's unlocked, so I pull out the keys. I put them in again and twist one more time, and when the lock doesn't click, I pull the keys out for the second time. I figure that my friends might just be major idiots and have forgotten to lock the door after they left yesterday, so I tuck the keys in my pocket and twist the knob. It pops right open. Great. My door has been unlocked for over twenty-four hours.

Spencer isn't paying much mind to this though as we trudge in, kicking off our shoes. I hang up my jacket and turn to Spencer to ask for his jacket so I can put it in the washer, but his gaze is somewhere else. I follow where he's looking and find that the balcony doors are slightly open, and I roll my eyes. This keeps happening to me. These damn balcony doors. Between the balcony and front doors being open, I'm surprised that all of my belongings aren't completely gone.

"Don't worry about it, Spence," I tell him, dramatically flipping the lock on my front door so we can both hear the clicking noise and then padding across my apartment to flip the lock on the balcony door. Honestly though, my hands are trembling as I touch the knobs. Why are my door continuously unlocked? I try to brush it off for Spencer's sake. "My friends were here when I left to pick you up and I'm sure they forgot to close and lock everything. It's fine. It's not a big deal. Don't worry about it."

Spencer nods and rubs his eyes, then begins to speak through a loud yawn. "You should yell at your friends."

It's just another moment of the old Spencer shining through the armor that the new Spencer is wearing. This exhausted and bleary and witty version of my boyfriend is who I have embedded in my brain, not the version who yells at me and throws books at walls and jumps away from my touch. I wish I could frame this moment and hang it on the wall.

"Come on," I wave him towards the kitchen and he follows me blindly, falling into a barstool at the island, leaning his elbows against the granite. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up and his forearms are far too distracting for anyone's good, and I have to tear my eyes away from him before I get carried away. I'm just too deprived of sex and satisfaction that maybe any intimate sight of Spencer will get me going. Even if it's his hands, or his forearms, or his fingers-- oh god, look away.

"Is there anything specific you want?" I take a glance through my fridge at the ingredients I have before turning back to him. His hands are on his cheeks now, distorting his face in that same adorable way it was in the car. "I'll make you whatever you're feeling."

"Just something, um," he speaks quietly, "easy. Pancakes, or something."

"Sure, I can do that," I reach into the cupboard and pull out the pancake mix, retrieving a bowl and a skillet.

"I'm gonna go put a record on," Spencer drags himself out of his chair and into the living room and I can hear him rummaging through the mess in there.

He's utterly exhausted. I've seen him tired after cases, but never liked this. He can barely even speak a full sentence or walk in a straight line. So I combine ingredients quickly, hoping that the stove warms up at lightning speed so I can cook these pancakes as fast as possible. I want to get Spencer food, and then into a shower, and then into bed. I couldn't care less about my needs. I just can't bear seeing him dragging himself around like this anymore.

My ears perk up when the record scratches and then the music starts, and State of Grace by Taylor Swift starts playing. I watch Spencer come back in and sit down again, his eyes closed as he absorbs the music. I expected him to put on one of the many classical records I have, like Mozart or Beethoven or Brahms. But no, he put on Taylor Swift. I choose not to comment on the music choice and instead, I pour the batter on the hot skillet.

It's only five minutes before I have a stack of pancakes and I've run out of batter. I turn off the burner and divide up the pancakes onto two plates, grabbing two forks and the maple syrup from the fridge. Spencer gives me a tiny smile as he reaches for his plate, digging in without even waiting for the syrup.

I drizzle a fair amount of syrup on my own pancakes and then pick up my fork, about to eat my first meal in twenty-four hours, but then I look at Spencer. He's scarfing down his food like his life depends on it, and I wonder if he's even chewing it at all. His head is bowed all the way down, nose almost touching the pancake stack as he snakes his fork under his chin, and his free hand is on the table with his fingers spread, and before I can blink again, he's halfway through his plate.

"Hey, hey, Spence," I reach my hand out for him, but he doesn't react. This is what happened when he threw the book. He got in his head, then I touched him, and he freaked out. I can't let that happen again. So I sit up on my knees and lean toward him, placing my hands flat against the table so, again, he can see that I don't plan on touching him or using them against him. "Spencer, look at me," he digs his fork into the pancake but his hand falters, slowing down. "Eyes up here, dove."

Spencer's eyes slowly travel up until they lock with mine, and they hold the same panicked qualities that they did post-book-throwing. I offer him a smile, but he doesn't give one back, not that I expected him to.

"Spencer," I speak slowly and calmly, "nobody's here. It's just you and me. You can slow down. You have all the time in the world to eat," Spencer takes a labored breath through his nose and shakes his head, closing his eyes. "I promise, dove, and you know I don't break my promises. You can slow down, you can just be with me. You're with me, and that's it."

"It's just--" he hangs his head and then opens his eyes, staring at his half-empty plate, "sitting like this. It feels-- it feels like-- it just-- it's--"

For some reason, I understand what he can't say. From how he's sitting in such a defensive and protected position and now he's saying that there's a problem with how he's sitting, it makes sense to me. Somehow, sitting like his makes him think of sitting and eating in prison and having to, I don't know, protect his food, maybe. I don't know much of anything about prison but I didn't think that it would change the way he eats meals.

"Okay, okay," I cut off his stuttering, nodding softly so I can seem as understanding as possible. "Come on then," I pull back my hands and grab my plate, sliding off the barstool and pressing my back against the kitchen cabinets, slowly sliding down. "How about we sit on the floor? Would that be okay?"

Spencer stares at me sliding onto the floor and it takes him quite a while to grab onto his plate and join me. He slides down beside me and extends his legs in front of him, setting his plate on his lap. He takes a long, deep breath and starts slicing into his pancakes again, much slower this time.

"Is this better?" I ask softly. "You can tell me if it's not because we could move somewhere else," I start to cut into my own food again, keeping my eyes on him.

"Yeah," he murmurs, and then he slumps down a little bit more so he can rest his head on my shoulder. Spencer is eating like a snail now, moving his hand so slowly that I have to keep looking down to make sure he hasn't fallen asleep on my shoulder. We just eat in tense silence, and as badly as I want to touch him and comfort him and smother him in love like I imagined I would be by now, I get the feeling that he would hate that and it would overwhelm him.

Not surprisingly, Spencer finishes his pancakes before me and gently places his fork down on his plate, setting his trembling hands flat on his lap. I expect Spencer to get up and discard his plate in the sink or the dishwasher and then head upstairs and jump in a shower, but he doesn't move. He stays right beside me with his head on my shoulder so I start to pick up my eating pace so we can get going. If he's not going to move without me then I don't want to make him sit here forever.

"Can I take your plate for you?" I whisper once I've finally finished my pancakes. The sun has fully risen and is blaring through the windows, and it feels so twisted to be so exhausted, so early in the morning.

Spencer nods, but he doesn't offer the plate up to me. I pick it up off his lap gingerly and wait for Spencer to lift his head before standing, putting them in the sink to deal with later. I turn back to Spencer, who's still on the floor, and hold my hands out to him to help him up. He looks at my feet first, and then incredibly slowly drags his eyes up my body until his eyes lock with mine. He seems so distant. He seems so far away and so far gone. His eyes are glossed over and his movements are like that of a sloth, starkly contrasting his quick actions just a few minutes before.

I very gently thrust my hands forward again, wiggling my fingers in his direction to get his attention. "Let's go get you in a shower, okay? I bet it'll make you feel a lot better."

Spencer looks up at me with a heartbreaking gaze, as if he can't even see me. As if he's staring right through me. As if he can't even see me at all. But then he pushes himself up by his lonesome and runs his hands down his face.

"Um," he breathes, his voice so low that I barely hear it, "thank you for-- you know, for the food," He keeps his eyes down on the floor, his body turned slightly away from me as if he's cowering from my touch again.

"No need to thank me, love. But let's just head upstairs and get you into a shower, okay?" I wave him out of the kitchen and he slumps off towards the stairs.

I watch him go, and once he gets on the first step, I go into the living room to shut off the record that Spencer has put on. Taylor Swift, huh? I have to make a mental note to ask Spencer about that when we're better rested.

Once I've put the record away, I follow Spencer up the stairs and I find him rummaging through my closet, already having dumped out all the items from his go-bag on the bed. His back is turned to me, too focused on finding clothes in my closet. I go to the pile of clothes and separate the work clothes from his pajamas, making two separate sections for him and trying to smooth out wrinkles from the fabrics.

"Sweets," even when I speak, he doesn't acknowledge my presence, "what are you looking for in there? I know you've got some clothes in there but you've got two whole sets of pajamas right here. They're clean, I've cleaned these clothes."

"I need a white tee-shirt," Spencer tells me and his voice is sharper now. It's not quiet and timid like in the kitchen. It's the exact opposite of the man that was just in my apartment a moment ago.

"Why?" I look down at the pair of pajama pants and the crew neck on the bed in front of me, right next to a different pair of pajamas, a matching silk set that Spencer commonly wears to sleep. Why isn't this good enough for him? If anything, this will keep him more comfortable during bed than just a tee-shirt. "There's two pajama sets right here for you that--"

"I need a white tee shirt, okay?!" Spencer snaps, turning his head to me, but still never looking me in the eye. "I need to wear a white tee-shirt to bed!"

I let out a shaky breath at the venom dripping from his mouth, reaching for the clothes in front of me and just grasping them in my hand, grasping for something to ground me. Although, maybe I'm not the one who needs the grounding right now.

I hear Spencer sigh behind me as he finds a white tee-shirt, and when he comes to the bed beside me, he takes a pair of pajama pants and boxers out of my hands. I move around him to put the other clothes back into his go bag, setting it in the corner of the room and then sifting through my closet for a crew neck and a pair of shorts. I do everything in my power to forgive and forget the moment that is making my hands tremble and my head dizzy. Spencer never yells. And he definitely never yells at me.

I hear the bathroom door open as I put my clothes onto the bed and pull off my tank top, but when I don't hear the water turn on, I turn to check on Spencer. He's still standing in the doorway, clutching his clothes in his hands and staring at the shower door.

"Spence?" He jumps when I speak his name as if he momentarily forgot that I was in the same room as him. And when he turns to me, he's back to the man he was in the kitchen. Quiet, timid, desperate. His eyes are pleading for me, and I feel helpless knowing I don't know exactly how to help him. I disregard my clothes and walk toward him, but don't make an effort to touch him. "Love, you can shower, it's okay. You'll feel much better when you wash off all the sweat and grossness of the--" I pause, wanting to say one certain word but knowing I shouldn't. I settle with a safer word, "day."

Spencer pouts his pretty lips and his hands tighten around the pile of clothes in his hands. "Could you-- um-- could you come with me? I don't wanna be alone right now," and perhaps it seems like a rude comparison, but he looks like a small child. He looks like a child who's woken up from a nightmare, clutching his pillow to his chest, asking his mom to come to his room to scare away the monster under his bed. But I'll never be able to scare away the monster under Spencer's bed. We both know that and we both seem to be ignoring it. For now, we'll pretend that I can remedy every issue in the world and continue on with our day.

I toss my tank top into the hamper across the room and then walk over to Spencer, leaning against the doorframe across from him. "Are you gonna be comfortable with that, dove?"

Spencer nods quickly, his hair falling in front of his eyes. "I'll be okay. I really don't wanna be alone. I want you."

I glance at the shower and then back at Spencer with his greasy hair and his half-lidded eyes and his hunched shoulders, and I nod. If he gets uncomfortable again, I'll just get out. He needs a shower more than me anyway, and if I need to get out of the shower because he doesn't want me touching him, then it's not the end of the world. Spencer breathes a sigh of relief and steps fully into the bathroom, setting his clothes on the sink counter. I grab two towels from the closet and start the shower, leaving the door open a crack so the steam can escape.

Spencer strips off his clothes before I do and, holy shit, I almost gasp. Now, for the millionth time, I have no idea what prison is like. I only know tiny bits of what Spencer went through, like getting beat up and eventually stabbing himself and getting thrown into solitary confinement. I don't know what he did during the time that he was stuck in his cell by himself, or what he did to pass the time when he wasn't in his cell. Honestly, I don't really know what he did at all in prison.

But holy shit. Spencer's arms are far more toned than I remember them to be and his stomach is too, and if Derek Morgan were here, I'd bet good money that he would be impressed. Even Spencer's calves and quads look more toned than before, and every time he moves, every one of his muscles flexes in the most delicious and sexy way. How much did he work out in prison? Did he work out every second of every day? I wasn't expecting this type of transformation from him, but he's been full of surprises. And after a moment of staring, I wonder if this is a good change or not.

"Why are you staring?" Spencer has just reached for the waistband of his boxers but paused when he saw me standing still and staring, then his hands stilled.

"Um," I have to physically jerk my head to the side to break my gaze and force my eye line up to his pupils, "sorry, I was just-- you--"

"I what?" Spencer retorts, and thankfully, he doesn't sound angry. He sounds genuinely curious.

"You just look different. More, you know, muscular," I try to choose my words carefully because I don't want to offend him. I don't want to make it seem like I hate his body now, or that I hated his body before prison because neither is the case. I could never hate his body. I'm not with him for his body. His body is beautiful regardless. This is just such a difference from what I'm used to seeing from my boyfriend. This is just another part of him that has been taken away from him. His soft body is gone as if he has morphed himself into an intimidating alpha male. I never wanted an alpha male. I've only ever wanted my Spencer.

"I worked out a lot," Spencer mumbles vaguely. He barely tells me any details about prison. The most he told me was while we were eating. And even still, he didn't give me specifics during dinner. He left me to guess exactly what was wrong. It's all been vague so far. I'm not sure if that's because he's protecting me or because he just can't bring himself to talk about it yet.

"Let's get in the shower so we can get some sleep," I want to nudge him towards the open shower curtain and the warm, streaming water. But Spencer moves on his own, shuffling towards the shower and quickly discarding his boxers.

He seems hesitant to get into the water at first, just standing at the edge of the tub and letting the water hit his toes first. Spencer stares at the stream of water, reaching his foot out a bit more to get his ankle and shin wet. I watch him carefully for a moment, just to make sure he doesn't freak out like he has a few times already today.

Spencer's head turns to me and he gives me a pleading look, his eyebrows scrunched up and his bottom lip between his teeth. He's clearly keeping tears at bay, trying to prevent his chin from quivering. "Lia," he stammers, but doesn't say anything else. A single tear falls down his cheek.

I quickly pull off my undergarments and move the shower door back a little bit more, stepping into the tub so I'm in the stream of water. I hold my hands out for him, and this time, he actually grabs onto them. I draw him closer to me. Not closer to the stream of water, but just closer to my body.

"It's just water, Spence," I tip my head back and wet my mane of curls, matting them down to my head. "It actually feels really good."

"It's just," Spencer shuffles just a little bit closer to me. The tips of his toes touch mine, his whole body flinching when a droplet of water ricochets off of me and hits his chest, "the showers were always cold."

"Oh," I turn and look at the knobs behind me that control the water temperature, "I can make it cold if you want. It's not a big deal if--"

"No, no, I don't want that," he shakes his head, clutching my hands tightly in his. "I don't wanna take another cold shower. It just feels weird. I'm not used to it."

I scrunch up my nose, unlacing our hands and tracing my fingertips up his forearms. I wonder if I should even let myself touch his biceps because if I do, I might completely lose my cool and want to jump his bones. Clearly, he's not ready for sex or any kind of physical intimacy. I didn't even expect us to be showering together any time soon. "I don't like cold showers, either. You know that. Do you wanna get under the water?"

Spencer nods and grabs my hands again, switching our spots so he's directly under the stream. I don't let go of him as he sighs of relief, the water falling over his face and making his hair stick to his forehead. He closes his eyes, dropping his shoulders down. This is, by far, the most relaxed I've seen him all day. He seemed to be relaxed in the car, but now, he has completely let his guard down for the first time. It's a beautiful sight, truly. It's beautiful to see him running his hands through his hair and reaching for his shampoo and fluttering his eyelids. He's always been so beautiful.

I shave my legs while Spencer washes his body, and he spends quite a lot of time doing so. I'm not surprised that he wants to wash every germ off his body, I'd expected that much. And we keep in silence, just washing away the stress and drama and hardships of the last few months. I wish that a simple shower could wash away all the pain that we've been cursed with, but I know that this pain may never go away. The pain of this time will always linger, no matter how hard we try to eradicate it.

"Are you gonna shave?" I ask, switching places one more time with Spencer so I could wash my face.

"You said you liked it so--"

"Yeah, but it's your face. If you wanna shave, then shave. Don't let me stop you," I wipe away the soap from my eyes and smile at Spencer, gesturing to where his razor still sits along the wall.

Spencer runs his hands over his face, feeling his mustache and beard on his fingertips. "I'll keep it for now. Maybe tomorrow I'll clean it up a little but I don't wanna deal with it today."

"Well let's go get some sleep, okay?" I turn around and shut off the water, wringing out my hair so it doesn't drip onto the floor. Spencer gets out and quickly wraps himself in a towel, and when I step out a moment after him, he hands my towel to me. "Thanks."

I head out of the bathroom and reach for my clothes, pulling on a pair of underwear and one of Spencer's old tee-shirts. I dry off my hair a little bit and sit on the edge of the bed, putting lotion on my legs and keeping my eyes on the bathroom door for when Spencer eventually comes out.

He takes forever to get dressed, but when he does, he's wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white tee-shirt, his hair soaked and hanging over his forehead. He drops his towel in the hamper and then he turns on his heel to join me in bed, but freezes in his spot when he sees my towel on the floor. He quickly picks it up off the floor and puts it into the hamper, then he scans the floor of the room for anything else that could be out of place.

"Babe?" I close off the lid on my bottle of lotion and put it away, watching him put a pair of my shoes into the closet and then jam the door closed. "Spencer, if you really wanna clean, do it when you can actually keep your eyes open. Come get some sleep, please."

Spencer lets out an exasperated sigh as his hands drop from the closet handle, and then they smooth through his hair. He nods silently, and his toes drag against the carpet as he brings himself towards the bed.

He falls onto his side, pulling back the duvet and slipping under, letting out a sound close to a moan as his body sinks into the bed. His head falls onto the pillow and he moans louder, his body wiggling under the covers. I smile at his pure and unfiltered ecstasy and pleasure, doing the same and slipping under the duvet with him.

I keep a bit of distance between us though. Usually, I'd slide my leg through his and wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest and get as close to him as I possibly can. But he's so caught up in the familiarity and comfortability of my bed that I don't want to overwhelm him by touching him. I want him to enjoy his first time in a proper bed in months and not worry about my hands on his skin.

I let out a roaring yawn, rolling onto my side to face Spencer. Now that I'm laying in bed, my exhaustion is setting in yet again. I pull the duvet up to my chin and close my eyes, trying to let myself drift off to sleep.

I'm just about to dip into dreamland when I feel Spencer shift beside me, facing me. I try to ignore it, try to bring myself closer to sleep, try to let us both get the rest that we so desperately need. But I can sense Spencer's gaze on me, and as hard as I try to, I can't ignore it. I just want him to go to sleep. I want him to sleep so he can regenerate and hopefully feel better whenever it is that we wake up. But my forehead is burning with his stare and I can't stop feeling it. Clearly, something is affecting him and that's why he hasn't tried to sleep yet.

To my surprise, Spencer's voice is the one to break through the silence. "Baby?" He's shaky. He's trembling. He's unsure.

I open my eyes, seeing tears pouring down his cheeks and his hand in midair, just a few inches in front of my face. "Spencer," I breathe, watching his hand drops onto the bed between us. "What's wrong?" Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, and his hand clutches the bed sheet until his knuckles turn white. He breathes in harshly through his nose and he draws his knees up to his chest, curling into a tiny ball. "Dove, talk to me."

Spencer's other hand comes down to the bed to join his other, squeezing so tightly that I fear he might rip a hole in the fabric. I see his arms start to shake with the force he's using to hold the bedsheet, hot tears streaming down his cheeks and staining the pillow. He hiccups, but not too loud. Barely loud enough for me to hear. "Lia," he sobs, completely breaking down right before my eyes, "please hold me."

I want to jump his bones. I want to get on top of him and smother him in love and affection and kisses. I want to give him everything I know we've both been craving for months. I want to give him exactly what he's asking for. But I've spent most of my day doing what I can to not overwhelm him and that's not going to change now.

I debate for a moment on how I should touch him first. Should I wipe his tears? Should I hold his hand? Should I wrap my arm around his waist? Should I drag my fingers along his arm? What could I do that won't freak him out?

But then I notice, again, that his eyes are closed. His eyes are squeezed shut and he's not looking at me. I remember how he reacted in the round table room when I touched him when he couldn't see it coming. He jumped and cowered away from me. He didn't take well to getting touched without seeing it.

"Spencer," I whisper, "open your eyes." His eyebrows scrunch up at my request but he doesn't follow it. "Come on, baby, I wanna see your pretty eyes. I haven't been able to see them in so long. Open your eyes for me," I watch Spencer carefully as he holds his breath, forcing his eyelids open, releasing more tears. "There you go, Spence. Thank you, lovey. So pretty. Your eyes are so pretty."

I raise my hand and let it linger in the air for a moment before reaching towards Spencer's face. I drag my fingers along his jawline then lay my hand flat against his cheek. Spencer's lips part when he lets out a shaky sigh, nuzzling his cheek against the palm of my hand. I give him a moment to revel in this type of contact, just staring into his eyes and gauging his reaction. He isn't cowering away and he hasn't screamed at me yet, so I take that as a good sign.

I bring my other hand forward and press my fingers against the back of his hand, feeling him already start to ease his grip. I can't attest for his other hand, but he flattens his hand against the bed, allowing me to lock our fingers together in an awkward, backwards handhold.

"I've got you," I whisper, swiping my thumb across his cheeks to rid his skin of stinging tears. His eyes are locked on mine and he doesn't dare to avert his gaze from my blue eyes that I know he loves so much.

Spencer sucks in a breath and tugs on my hand, wanting me even closer. So I wiggle my hips to diminish the gap between us, leaving some space still. I move my head so we're sharing a pillow, the same pillow that I used to clutch when I was missing Spencer so intensely that I needed to smell his cologne and remember that he would come home to me soon.

"It hurts," he slurs, and his eyelids are so heavy that he can barely keep them open. But he fights with all his strength against the sleep that wants to suck him in, sticking his eyes to me. His eyes plead for help, a type of help that I don't know if I can provide.

"Oh, my baby," I coo, bringing my face right in front of him, "you're safe. You're home. You don't have to go back to that horrible place again. You're right here and you can rest, okay? It's okay to rest now."

I feel him moving under the sheets and it takes everything in me to not look at what he's doing. But I feel his legs touching mine, and then one of his slips between mine a moment later. Even though he initiated this contact, I wait, yet again, for his reaction. His face doesn't change.

"Can I touch you some more?" Spencer nods quickly, his facial hair scratching my palm. "Can I hug you?" He nods again, and with this obvious consent, I almost sigh of relief.

I slide my hand down Spencer's neck, then down his arm, and to his stomach. I wrap my arm around his waist, pulling my body forward so I'm flush against him. With this, he finally lets his eyelids flutter closed, lips parted as he breathes heavily. His skin feels so warm against mine and I can already feel beads of sweat collecting at my hairline, but I ignore their presence.

"Go to sleep," I murmur, bringing our entwined hands up to the pillow between our faces. "I'm here right now, I'm gonna be here when you wake up, I'm gonna be here tomorrow, and the day after, and the next day, and every day after that. I'm not going anywhere. And if you need me then don't hesitate to wake me up. But I need you to get some sleep, okay? Can you do that for me?" Spencer nods yet again, and he flips his hand around so we can properly hold hands. I smile at his responsiveness. "Let me hear you say it, doll."

Spencer nuzzles his cheek against the pillow, scooting a bit closer to me. "I'm gonna try to get some sleep."

"Good," I slip my hand under his tee shirt and rest it flat against his hot skin, earning a small gasp from him, but I don't do any more than that. "I'm right here, baby boy. I'm not gonna let go of your hand and I'm not gonna get out of bed before you. I'll be right here the whole time. I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"I love you," Spencer whispers but his words are barely coherent as his exhaustion becomes too much to handle. His lips are barely moving and his grip on my hand, and on the sheets, are loosening.

"I love you too, dove."

I watch him closely until I know, for sure, that he's fallen asleep. I wouldn't want his eyes to pop open again and for him to panic. But I keep my promise and I don't let go of his hand, or move my hand from in his shirt, or get out of bed. I just close my eyes and drift off into the most restless sleep I've had yet.

TAGLIST

@babybloodstonebones @bxnnywriting @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @4x24 @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere @shrimpyblog @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter @whxt-to-write @just-call-me-non @imagining-in-the-margins @boldlyvoid @homoose @gubler-me-up @thundergunexpresss @eideticmemory @andiebeaword

#nikos north fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #dr reid

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just-a-fangirl13 · 4 years

Text

MacGyver fanfic

So this is my attempt at a MacGyver fanfic based on the spoiler we got from the MacGyver writers about Mac and Riley getting unexpectedly linked in season 5. (No this does not have anything to do with handcuffs this is just something I would like to see play out.😂)

I know it's kinda long but I hope you like it anyways.

I WOULD RECOMMEND LISTENING TO ARMOUR BY LANDON AUSTIN in the background for added effect...(I am weird I know😂)

(P.S. please ignore any typos...)

spoilers for. season 1-4.

*this takes place a six months after Mac and Desi have broken up. Bozer and Mac are spending time with each other playing video games at Mac’s flat after a long mission. They hadnt got a call from Matty about a new one just yet. So they were making the most of it after ages.*

“So Mac when are you getting back to dating?” Bozer asked. He was happy that Mac was finally doing better emotionally but he was worried Mac was going to spend the rest of his life building carbon scrubbers and car engines out of blenders, alone. He knew Riley and Mac would be perfect together but saying anything upfront would just end with Mac closing up like a clam shell and not dealing with his feelings. He knew better than to try and get involved.

He did have a plan though. He was going to convince Mac to try out this new dating app called Link’d. It was basically like every other dating app only difference..? It narrowed matches down by people you might have crossed paths with and you also have no idea who your date is until you get to a restaurant the app picked for you. The app reduced any possibility of being stood up or judged because you had no idea what the other person looked like and so no one ever lied. Bozer had already told Riley to try it out but he wasn’t sure if she would.

Bozer had hoped that maybe Mac and Riley would see each other going on dates and the fear of losing the other might kick in and maybe, just maybe they would deal with their feelings.

“Bozer come on, I am not ready yet besides I thought we talked about this. It’s only been a few months since Desi and I broke up.” said Mac.

“A few? Mac, its been six months and even Desi has moved on. All I’m saying is go on a date or two. You deserve to be happy too you know. Its time to get all that weight off your shoulders and live a little man.”

“Yeah I know.” Mac seemed to be considering the idea. A date sounded like fun and he could use a distraction from everything going on at Phoenix.

“Fine, then show me your phone.” said Bozer putting his hand out. Mac raised his eyebrow. “Why do you need it? I know I’ve broken a lot of your phones, is this your version of payback?", said Mac laughing nervously, "You'll won't hold my phone hostage until I agree will you?"

Bozer laughed, Mac was really never going to change. He cautiously handed over the phone and Bozer got to setting up Mac’s profile while Mac tried to get a look at what Bozer was doing secretly worried he was going to put him in some ridiculous situation.

When Bozer was done he handed the phone back to Mac.

“There you go. I installed a dating app called Link’d that will set you up on a blind date. Just hit that button and the algorithm will find you your perfect match.” Bozer left out the part where Riley might also use the app. But then again the possibility of them getting Link’d was slim since LA itself had about a few hundred thousand other users.

“A blind date?” Mac was confused. “Boze I dont know if this is such a good idea.” Bozer could tell every worst case scenario was going through Mac’s head right now.

“I haven't hit the button yet. Think about it and press it whenever you want. No pressure Mac. Whoever you end up with will be lucky to know you.”

“Thanks Boze. Ill think about it. Now can we get back to the game so I can kick your ass again?” said Mac with a smile on his face. He really would think about it. After all a blind date meant no pressure right?

*A few days later*

Riley had decided to use the app after all. It was just a date right? It didn't have to mean anything. She wouldn't even have to call the person back if it was a disaster.

Riley’s phone had pinged with an alert last night. She had got a match and had it yes without thinking twice. She was a bit nervous about going on a date with some random guy but Bozer had a lot of faith in the app. She only knew the guy would have a white rose with him so she could identify him. nothing else

She was very tempted to hack into the apps mainframe and find out who the guy was but she remembered her promise to Bozer. No hacking.

She had looked up the restaurant however. It was a nice romantic place in the heart of the city. Yes she could enjoy herself. No worrying about Mac or Phoenix or Codex or anything else.

She could do this. She could go on this one date, no strings attached and maybe just maybe she would be able to forget about her feelings for Mac for a night.

She decided to wear the new black knee-length dress she had bought a few weeks ago, but hadn't had the chance to wear yet. It felt good to dress up for a change. She could totally do this. After all what could even go wrong. No one at Phoenix knew about this date and she would fill Bozer and Desi in later if it went well.

********

Meanwhile, Mac was at the restaurant at a corner table. It was a nice cozy booth that meant they were away from the hustle and bustle of the 3 star restaurant. He had to admit the app was pretty cool. Not only did it pick a restaurant but it had pre booked a table too. It did help alleviate the stress of picking a place.

Mac still fidgeted though:- with the candle in the center of the table, the tablecloth, his suit jacket and even the white rose he had to carry so his date would recognise him. He checked the time for the 10th time in the last five minutes. He was always a little late so he didn't want to take any chances and had ended up 10 minutes early instead.

********

Riley’s cab pulled up at the restaurant. She was walking past the huge front window in a hurry. She was just on time.

She walked into the restaurant and gave her name to the host. As she was being led to her table and praying she wasn’t late, her phone started ringing. It was Bozer. Filled with guilt she put her phone on silent. Stupid button wouldn't work and she fidgeted with it while walking. She promised herself she would fill Bozer in once the date was over.

“Riles?”

Riley looked up from her phone at the sound of Mac’s voice. Was she hearing things now? But nope there he was, with a white rose, sitting at the table where the host had pulled up a chair intended for her.

“Mac? What are you doing here?”

Mac looked handsome as always. He had on a dark blue jacket, with his hair in his usual short and mess style. He had a look that bordered on confusion and amusement.

Surely there was some mistake. Maybe it was a joke. Or maybe there was an emergency mission and Mac was here to pick her up for the mission. That had to be it. Right?

“I was supposed to be here on a date with a girl I have never met before. You?” Mac smiled. Riley’s stomach flipped. Things had just got so much more complicated.

*****

Riley looked stunning. Mac knew that of course but she managed to catch him by surprise all the same.

She was just as surprised as him but now the doubt was creeping in. What if Riley was disappointed that it was him? What if she was really excited to meet someone new and him being here would ruin her night?

Riley had seemed a bit distant lately maybe this was the universes way of giving them a chance to figure things out after all.

“Well I came here thinking i was on blind date too. The Universe has a weird sense of humour." Riley broke into a smile and sat down. Mac was relieved and even more nervous at the same time.

What was wrong with him? It was just Riles. They would have a nice meal, figure things out and then laugh about this story later right?

Riley picked up the menu and a few seconds of complete silence ticked by. Mac couldn’t handle it and broke the silence.

“So” he said. “We should probably talk right?”

*****

“Something on your mind?” asked Riley. A million thoughts ran through her head as she put down the menu. This was the part she wasn't looking forward to. She had hoped he wouldnt bring it up until later in the night but it was the elephant in the room. What was she thinking sitting down, pretending everything was fine?

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” said Mac. “You know about how you’ve been avoiding me ever since we almost died in that Codex compound from the missile. Then you moved out suddenly without much of a reason. If it was the drilling sounds I would have stopped you know.”

“It wasn't the drilling sounds or anything you did Mac. I just moved out to give you and Desi the space you deserved.” said Riley.

Her thoughts ran back to the moment he held her hand. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to bring that up right now. The truth was Riley had been distancing herself from Mac.

Desi was her friend and she was never going to tell Mac about her feelings. It would ruin everything. Even after he and Desi broke up, Riley knew that she and Mac would never happen. She wouldn't be selfish and risk their friendship.

“Come on Riles. You’re my best friend. Whatever is going on then, you can tell me. I know its probably my fault but I need you to talk to me so I can fix it.”

How could she tell him? There would just be a cloak of awkwardness between them that would never go away and it wouldnt be something he could fix. She had to end this. Now.

“I have to go. I'm not feeling too great. I'm sorry Mac.”, said Riley getting up from her chair. Saying those words broke her heart but she had to put space between her and Mac, otherwise he would know. He would see right through the lies.

“Riles wait!”

Stupid heels she thought and walked out the door of the restaurant as fast as she could only to find it had begun raining. Oh great. This night could not be a bigger train wreck.

She turned around to find Mac right behind her at the door. A sad expression on his face. She prayed he would forgive her for this eventually.

“At least let me give you a ride home. You dont have to say anything if you dont want to.”

Riley considered her options. She really didnt want to. But she was not going to get a cab on a Friday night in this rain. She silently nodded and followed Mac to his truck.

******

Mac was wracking his brains to figure what he could have possibly done to upset Riley this much. They had almost been hit by the Reaper drone and then almost burnt alive in that warehouse, the guilt for putting Riley through that had been eating at him ever since.

He was thinking of all the things he had done in the past month, while Riley sat silently peering out the window not even looking at him.

He could always fix things right? That was what he did best. What was the use of all his skills if he couldn’t even fix things with Riles.

The woman who knew him better then he knew himself. She had trusted him even when everyone thought he was an enemy of the state. Even when he thought he had lost himself. She was always there. He told her things he had never told anyone before.

Suddenly his mind went back to the moment he held her hand in that Codex compound. He had thought about that many times. Why had he done it? He was sure he was going to die and he had just put Riley at risk too. He wanted her to know he was sorry right? What other reason could there have been?

Before he knew it he had pulled up at Riley's apartment entrance.

Riley mumbled, “Thanks for the ride Mac. I'm sorry I ruined your night”, she barely met his eye as she open the door and stepped out.

Suddenly it struck him.

He didn't want to lose Riley. The thought hit him so suddenly it almost sucked the air right out of him. How had he not realised sooner?

It was Riles. It had always been her.

He got out the car in the pouring rain,“Riles wait.” he pleaded, “I'm so sorry.”

Riley turned around to face him.

“You dont have anything to be sorry about Mac. This isn't your fault. I just have a lot on my mind right now.” she said.

“I do Riles. I have so much to be sorry for.” said Mac walking around the car and towards her.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to see what was right in front of me. I’m sorry i didnt realise sooner. I thought back to that day on the truck. The moment I held your hand, I realise it now, it was the first time I wasn't afraid of dying alone. I never let myself think about it. But the truth is Riles, I dont want to lose you.”

Riley had tears streaming down her face.

Oh no. He had made a mistake hadn't he. He had completely misread the situation. Riley had never felt that way at all. He had just made things worse and now they would never be able to go back to the way things were.

But deep down he didn't regret telling her. He had these feelings for so long. The idea of losing her had brought everything back to the surface.

“Riles, please say something.”

All these thoughts were running through his head when suddenly, Riley kissed him. He was taken aback for a second but he kissed her back. He could have stayed there in the rain forever. Just him and Riley. She wrapped her arms around him.

“I am so sorry Mac. You were right.. The truth is I was avoiding you. I thought if I distanced myself I would be able to move on and I would never have to risk our friendship. You’re my best friend too Mac and I just...” she was crying again.

Mac took her face in his hands tenderly and wiped the tears away. “Hey, hey its okay. I think we can both agree for two very smart people we can be pretty dumb”

Riley smiled. It made Mac’s heart do sommersalts.

They just stood there in the rain holding each other.

“So are we doing this then?” asked Riley breaking their embrace.

"I mean I guess your bed is big enough" said Mac with a mischievous grin. Riley smacked him, laughing and rolling her eyes.

"Not that. I meant us, dating and all that." She was blushing now.

“if you want to give this a shot? 100% Should we tell everyone though?” asked Mac. He wasn’t sure how everyone would react. A part of him wanted to just keep this between him and Riley.

“I do want to give us a shot. Maybe we should keep this to ourselves for a bit? Phoenix and relationships never seem to mix too well.” said Riley.

Mac nodded and smiled,”Yeah I like the sound of that. And if they get suspicious I guess we’ll just..”

“Improvise.” said Riley, completing Mac’s sentence. They laughed and kissed, standing there in the rain for what felt like forever.

#macgyver #macgyver fanfiction #macriley #cbs macgyver #cbs #fanfic #macgyver fandom #macrileyfanfic #rileydavis #angus macgyver

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asingleheart-shapedbraincell · 4 years

Text

Parasite (Prologue)

I watched Venom last night, and now this exists. I have co-opted the plot for fanfiction with some added occultism and Halloween flavour for Spice™ .This is part one, basically works as a prologue, and then it’ll split into a chapter for each brother.

tw: implied drinking, occultism and demonic possession

GN!MC

Prologue

‘Twas Spooky Season and you were dressed as a shitty zombie because Halloween parties have the best snacks. A girl with long acrylic nails painted to look like candy-corn passed you a bright green jello shot. It tasted like limeade and cough syrup, yet somehow worse than both of those. She laughed at the face you pulled and passed you a can of lemonade to chase the taste away. When you cracked it open, it fizzed over slightly - not enough for you to suspect foul play, but enough that you were going to have a sticky hand. Still better than another jello shot though. It was quite crowded inside the house and the loud music was starting to get on your nerves a little bit, so you pointed out the door and mouthed ‘I’m gonna go outside!’ The girl gave you a smile and a thumbs up before turning back round to the shots table.

Outside the air was crisp and cold and full of the smell of woodsmoke and apple cider. A small gathering of people were sat around the bonfire nursing steaming mugs and chatting by the firelight. You wandered over to the punchbowl and scooped yourself a mug of cider, pulling the sleeves of your ratty, zombie-fied jumper over your hands to hold the hot mug before heading over to the group and settling yourself down next to them.

‘- but when she left the tent, she realised that it hadn’t been rain dripping on the tent, it had been blood,’ one of them was finishing a scary story and you settled in to hear the end of it, ‘and above her tent was her husband’s dead body.’

‘What killed the husband?’ You quietly asked the person next to you.

‘Demon,’ he replied.

You nodded and took a sip of the apple cider. It was delicious - not too sweet, well spiced, and the perfect hot drink for an autumn night (though you did have to strain small pieces of cinnamon bark through your teeth).

You leant over again to whisper: ‘Who summoned it?’

‘The wife.’

‘That’s one way to collect the life insurance,’ you mumbled back, causing him to laugh into his drink.

Someone flopped down next to you, ‘he’s not telling that stupid demon story again, is he?’ You looked over to see candy-corn nails roll her eyes at the storyteller before giving you a smile - ‘he’s a one track record.’

‘Any good story is just as good during a retelling as it is during the first,’ he huffed.

‘That’d be a fair point if you’d been telling a good story,’ she replied.

The group ooo-ed at that.

‘Well, you tell one then, if you’re such an expert.’

She ignored him, ‘Demons are just such a cop-out! The story’s always the same - you summon them, they go on a rampage, then someone sends them back to Hell. It’s too predictable!’

‘What are you talking about?! That’s still a great story!’

‘I refuse to be scared of a monster that can be beaten by a nun.’

‘Oh please - you’d be terrified if you ever met a demon.’

‘No I wouldn’t!’

‘Yes you would!’

Their argument rather revolved from there into bickering, which no-one bothered to interrupt because it was as entertaining as a scary story. You leant over to your neighbour again - ‘my money’s on her to win.’

‘You’re on,’ he said with a grin.

‘Then prove it,’ the challenge grabbed both of your attentions, ‘go get that ouija board from inside,’ the guy said.

‘Ouija boards are for ghosts you idiot,’ she replied.

‘We need to draw a pentagram,’ your neighbour said.

‘Oh, don’t get involved, Solomon!’ Someone sitting across you said, but he just smiled in reply. Well... this was going to be an interesting evening.

~~~

‘I got candles from the kitchen!’

‘Excellent!’ Solomon replied, ‘we need them at all five corners of the pentagram.’

You watched on as Solomon instructed people on what to do for the summoning spell and he seemed pretty confident for someone attempting to summon a demon on Halloween. So someone could win an argument. Some of the more superstitious people had left to go back to the party, but it’s not like you believed in demons and anyway - this was more interesting than jello shots and loud music.

Candles were being shoved at the points Solomon had drawn with a stick from the bonfire - five points, with the bonfire in the centre. It was certainly very theatrical, you had to hand it him.

‘Okay, now you stand here,’ Solomon said, positioning someone behind a candle, ‘and you stand here.’

He turned to look at the other points of the pentagram. There were two left. his eyes fell on you - ‘What was your name again?’

‘MC.’

‘MC, you stand behind that candle for me?’

You obliged, making sure not to kick it over, and Solomon walked over to the final candle next to you.

‘Do we hold hands or something?’ You asked.

‘Why?’ Solomon asked, smirking, ‘Are you scared?’

You rolled your eyes, and Solomon started murmuring in what sounded like Latin, but is was very faint and it wasn’t like you were fluent enough to know if he was faking of not. You turned to look at the bonfire at the centre. Just beyond it you could see candy-corn nails flipping off her storytelling friend, but then something in the bonfire caught your eye. Or maybe it didn’t? The bonfire didn’t look any different, but it had captured your attention fully. Probably Solomon’s showmanship. Was it bigger? A log collapsed inside and a shower of sparks and woodsmoke plumed out to stain the night sky - the wood inside popping and snapping like breaking bones and for a moment you thought you could hear strange music...

Your vision felt hazy and you tried to clear the smoke from your throat - your overactive imagination and those gross jello shots were mixing together poorly. And the heavy smoke wasn’t helping. You felt queasy and dizzy and no longer in the mood to play pretend for the sake of someone else’s argument. You scrubbed your sleeve over your eyes - not caring about the Halloween makeup - you just wanted the smoke out of them long enough to feel steadier. But it didn’t work. In fact, you felt decidedly unsteady.

‘I think I’ve had too much,’ you manage to mumble out, before everything went black.

~~~

When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar bedroom, the sound of the party still going slightly muffled. The girl with the candy-corn nails was sat at the foot of the bed, she had put a pair of small costume horns onto a teddy bear and was half-heartedly playing with its little paws. You shifted and she jumped slightly, looking at you and breaking into a grin -

‘You’re awake!’ She said, sighing in relief, ‘How’re you feeling?’

‘Still a bit dizzy, but a lot better.’

‘The wind was blowing the smoke right into your face - I probably would have passed out too. I got you a glass of water, by the way,’ she said, pointing to the bedside table.

‘Thanks,’ you said, talking a long drink - your throat still felt itchy from all the smoke.

‘I’m sorry, by the way - it was all because of me and Jessie, I shouldn’t have let Solomon drag us into that whole ritual, not without making sure everyone was safe.’

‘You scared of demons all of a sudden?’ You asked with a half-hearted grin.

She snorted, ‘No. Demons aren’t real. But people getting hurt - that’s real.’

‘Apology accepted.’

‘Can I call you cab? I’m guessing you want to head home. I’ll pay for it - it’s the least I can do.’

‘Yeah, okay,’ you said, finishing that water - you still felt kinda dizzy, ‘thanks.’

~~~

Who’d you get possessed by?

Lucifer

Mammon

Leviathan

Satan

Asmodeus

Beelzebub

Belphagor

(Links will be added as the chapters are written - be patient, I have no concept of time, and also university work to be getting on with, but feel free to send me a reminder if you feel like it. I shamelessly thrive off of audience engagement)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me parasite #obey me possession #obey me possession fic

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kiarcheo · 4 years

Note

Do you have any headcanon for six you can share?

Don’t have many fixed headcanons, as they change depending on which AU I’m thinking about. I can offer some of those if you’d like.

One of my latest ideas had been: what if instead of living together, the queens are just working together, but because of Covid-19 restrictions and rules the only way for them to continue doing the show is to form a bubble?

Didn’t really go far and couldn’t come up with a proper story, but here are some thoughts/headcanons.

Under the cut because it got kinda long.

The queens are already close, working long hours day in and day out side by side will do that, but when they move in together, they find out new things about each other.

Like the fact that Catalina is a minimalist. People often think that because she is ‘the paragon of royalty’, coming from a royal family to be part of another one, then becoming a queen and being one for 24 years, she is used to the finest things in life, and lots of them. While she does have high standards, she very much values quality over quantity. She knows what she likes, and most importantly, what she needs, and she’ll get that and nothing more. Whether it’s clothes or objects or anything else, she will rarely bother with something that it’s superfluous and will only clutter her world (unless it has sentimental value, then it’s another matter). When she moves in, she has like half of the baggage the others have.

Anne loves plants and has a knack for gardening. She jokes that she has not only green sleeves, but also green thumbs. She moves in bringing all her potted plants and she places them all around the house depending on the sun exposure, humidity and general environment they require. She takes over the back garden, the conservatory and the allotment that came with the house. She is one of the main supporters of their move together to be permanent even after restrictions ease...now that she got a taste of proper gardening in proper spaces, she doesn’t want to go back to have to make a jungle out of a flat.

Jane’s memory is phenomenal. She always knows which fan gave her which gift, what they told her last time they interacted on social media or at stage door, who runs which account. If a queen mentions something in passing once, she will remember it months later. She is easily the best at giving gifts. Anne complaining that she can’t properly grow whatever plant in her flat? One year later, Jane gets the seeds for her to plant in the garden. Anna mentioning that a recipe would actually call for another vegetable, which however isn’t in season and it’s not that easy to find in England? Jane will wait until it is season and scour through farmers markets until she finds it. But it’s also smaller things. Like Kat muttering aloud, making a comment to herself while looking at the tips of her hair, that she needs to remember to buy hair dye. Next time Jane is out shopping, she will get it, even if it’s not on the shopping list and even if Kat herself has forgotten about it. Groceries with Jane always blows the others’ minds, because she will stop them from getting something saying that she has seen an ad from another supermarket that has the same product for 30p less or a bigger pack for the same price. She is always right. Pretty much, if Jane sees or hears something once, she will remember it.

Anna loves cooking (and baking). If she is sad, she cooks. If she is happy, she cooks. If she is stressed, she cooks. If she needs to relax, she cooks. If she needs to think something over, if she needs to distract herself, if she wants to celebrate, if...anything, Anna’s solution is cooking. And having five other people to cook for is absolute heaven for her. Before moving in together she would bring stuff to the theatre, but there were a lot of limitations. Had to be already in single portions, not needing to be kept in the fridge or heated up, not messy. But now...now she has free rein. And she is having the time of her life (and the others are always up for trying anything she comes up with). She teams up with Anne to create a herbs garden so that she has them fresh, and when the move becomes permanent, they decide together which vegetables to grow in the allotment. She asks Jane advice when cooking because while she can remember that Kat doesn’t like the texture of beans but doesn’t mind the taste and will accommodate to that, Jane will remember that Cathy mentioned once how she prefers red peppers over yellow ones, with the green ones being her least favourite.

If there is a problem at the house, anything to fix...the first port of call is Kat. From fixing a light flickering by sorting out the faulty wiring with just screwdrivers and scissors to replacing the door seal of the washing machine, from leaky faucets to doors not closing properly or getting stuck, or even toilet not flushing properly, chances are that Kat will know how to fix it or will be able to figure it out how. It had started the first times she had problems at her flat: she had gone online to see 1) if it was actually a problem and not something very simple to fix (like when she had a power outage and found out that it was just a circuit overload and all she had to do was unplug stuff and flip the switches back on) and 2) how she could explain what was wrong when calling someone to fix it and what to expect from them in terms of time, costs, etc. Most of the time she found tutorials and explanations step-by-step on how to fix it...so she started to try to do it herself. And she found out she is quite good at it, and she likes it too, both the fixing part and the learning how things work. And if it meant avoiding having to let random men in her flat...she was all for it. The next step was trying her hand at DIY since she likes manual work but thankfully stuff does not break all the time. Her biggest project to date is a small greenhouse and an irrigation system for Anne.

Cleaning is for Cathy similar to what cooking is for Anna. If she is stressed, worried, upset...she cleans. If she needs to clear her mind, she cleans. If she is stuck on something, she cleans. Her room is spotless most of the time. But also, it’s just one room, so it doesn’t take long for her to expand her reach. Nobody complains about it. They also learn that there are different levels to her cleaning sprees. Dusting and wiping surfaces are routine. Vacuuming and washing the floors are normal. If she is cleaning the windows, there are reasons to start to get worried. If she has her head in the oven, proceed with caution: scrubbing forcefully at its walls is an outlet for her anger, but if interrupted, it might be directed at you.

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angelbabyszn · 4 years

Text

Marry Me (Oscar X Reader) - Part One

Requested by @darkness-doughter !

Imagine Based On: I was just thinking about a fic places after the third season, when Oscar says he wants adult problems, maybe a wife and a kid. Reader and him are dating for long, passed through so much things, maybe when he tells Cesar he says "Maybe get married to y/n"

OMB Masterlist

B/F/N: Best Friend

"Mano! Get your fifteen year old a*s over here! You know d*mn well you ain't trying to get no woman at your age!" you shouted at your brother Ruby who was only a few feet away from you with a woman at the beach bar.

"Get your a*s somewhere else, hyna." you said with an angry face and the woman gave you a stink face before walking away.

"Ruby, what were you thinking?!" you asked as you looked at him angrily.

"What? She has these." Ruby said and put his hands in front of his chest with his fingers crunched a bit.

"Ruby, just go back to your friends." you said as you rolled your eyes while pointing at them. Ruby got up from the chair he was sitting at and jogs back to his friends.

"Y/N!"

You turned your head to the right to see your best friend, B/F/N in her swimsuit standing on a towel next to yours on the sand underneath a big umbrella finally here to save you from all of this annoyance.

"B/F/N!" you shouted and you ran up and hugged her.

"Now tell me, what was that?! That's not the Y/N I know!" said B/F/N with a huge smile on their face with their arms crossed after the hug ended.

"I don't know! It was crazy!" you said excitedly.

"Probably because Ruby was in that situation. I know you love your little mano." said B/F/N.

"Joker! Get the meat!" shouted a man's voice. You and B/F/N looked behind at the entrance of the beach to see Spooky walking in shirtless with his swim shorts on, one towel hanging on his right shoulder, and a cooler in his left hand.

"Spooky looking fine today..." said B/F/N. You look at her weirdly to see her basically taking his clothes off with her eyes.

"Oh my god." you said making B/F/N hitting you on your right arm while staring at him.

"Hey! What was that for?!" you shouted at her as you held your arm and looked at her crazy..

"For laughing at your future man." said B/F/N.

"Ha! Yeah, right" you said and she hits you again.

"Are you going to do that all day?" you said with a serious face cause it’s not funny no more.

"Yes if you keep laughing at him." said B/F/N with their arms crossed against their chest.

"What's wrong about it? I'm laughing because you really think he would be interested in me. That's just...not possible." you said and B/F/N rolled your eyes.

"But it could-"

"No, it's impossible. Now, let's move on from this okay?" you said and you turned your head to see Ruby and his friends.

"Ruby! You're getting sunburned!" you shouted. You grabbed the sunscreen that was on your towel and jogged up to him.

B/F/N looked at you for a few moments as you were putting sunscreen on Ruby's back and turned her head to see Spooky cooking burgers with Sad Eyes hopeless if it stays like this between the both of you.

It was the Fourth of July weekend and the beach was packed with people across the beach.

It was now nighttime and the party thrown later on today was starting to slow down and people started to go home after the fireworks show above the ocean.

"See you later, Spooky." said Sad Eyes as he walked past him with Cesar next to him to take him home.

Spooky went over to him and they did their man handshake. Oscar did a fist bump with Cesar.

"I'll be there in five." said Cesar to Sad Eyes. Sad Eyes continued walking to his car after nodding. Cesar stopped walking and stood in front of his brother.

"What is it Lil Spooky?" asked Spooky.

"So...what's with Y/N?" asked Cesar. Spooky turned away as he felt heat coming to his face due to hearing your name.

"Wow. It's true. You do have a thing for her." said Cesar with a smile.

"It's nothing really." said Spooky as he put his left hand behind his neck, holding it and looking down to the sand.

"Nothing? Are you s*itting me right now? You've been noticing her all summer!" said Cesar a bit louder than usual causing Spooky to quickly put his right hand on Cesar's mouth.

Cesar was trying to talk but couldn't because of his brother’s hand while trying to get his hand off. Making unnecessary noises until Oscar told him to shut up while staring at something.

Cesar stopped and his eyes widened when he shifted his eyes. He saw you looking at the ocean to have time with yourself while listening to soft music from your phone a few feet from them.

Spooky turned back to Cesar and slowly moved his hand from Cesar's mouth.

"Dude...that was disgusting." said Cesar, making a weird face and quickly put a gum stick in his mouth.

"You should tell her what you feel. I have no idea where she's going after this summer." said Cesar and he put his hands on his hips and looked back at you.

Spooky looked back to see you taking off your flip flops, putting them in your right hand with your phone on the other, and walking down the beach.

"Go get her." said Cesar and Spooky turned back to him and nodded before Cesar left the beach.

Spooky looks at you again to see you starting to get far from him. He starts to jog up to you until he is only a few inches away from you and starts to walk again.

A few minutes later, you felt somebody was following you. You turned around to see Spooky. Your eyes widened because you thought he went home.

"Spooky? What are you doing here?" you asked wondering what the leader of the Santos was doing here still on the beach with you in the night.

"Can a dude just walk on the beach?" said Oscar. You slowly turned back around and continued to walk down.

Spooky started to walk again behind you from a distance. You were still feeling kinda uncomfortable with him behind you so you stopped walking and turned back to him.

"Um, you can walk with me if you want." you asked and turned back around to continue walking.

Spooky grin in happiness and jogged up right next to you. You looked up at him, making your heart skip a beat. You have never been so close to him before.

You saw his head moved so you quickly stopped looking at him and looked beyond the ocean. He turned to you and grin knowing that you were looking at him.

You felt something that landed on your arm so you looked up and a drop of water dropped on your nose.

"Spooky, it's raining. We got to go back." you said, making Spooky turn to you.

"We're too far from the entrance now. Let's go to that lighthouse." said Spooky and pointed up at the lighthouse.

You and Spooky quickly ran to the lighthouse and went up the stairs as rain started to fall hard.

Two minutes later, you and Spooky came to the top where the light was located in the lighthouse and looked out at the beach. The rain stopped and the moon came out.

You start to stare out onto the ocean to see the moon shining bright and the horizon of the sea which was beautiful to look at.

Spooky looks at you and starts to stare as your wind is blowing your hair softly exposing your face a bit more every moment. He couldn't believe he was right here right next to you at this moment.

Spooky has completely fallen in love with you and you have no idea. He started to see you as his wife. He shook his head trying to get that thought out of his mind because there was no way that could happen but he wants to.

"Y/N...I have to tell you something." said Spooky. You look at him which makes him a bit more nervous than before.

He never really got nervous over anyone before except you. The way you looked up at him makes him want to grab your face and kiss you right there but he got some grip and controlled his actions.

Spooky stepped closer to you which made your eyes widened a bit along with your heart skipped a beat.

"Can I kiss you?" asked Spooky softly.

"Haha. Good one. That's funny." you said starting to giggle. Spooky started to stare into your eyes causing your laugh to fade real quickly.

"You're not kidding?!" you said shocked and Spooky slowly shook his head. You never thought Spooky would say anything like that, especially to you.

"I thought you had something to say. Now, Ruby probably needs something." you said and start to go down the stairs trying to run away but Spooky stops you by grabbing your left hand. You look back at him and he pulls you back to him.

"You like me don't ya?" said Spooky, making your eyes widened in shock.

"No, I don't."

"Well your eyes and your cheeks say so." said Spooky and you looked away from him.

"Why do you act like you don't?" asked Oscar.

"Cause I don't." you said as you turned your back on him.

"Yes you do. Can I kiss you?" asked Oscar softly again as he got closer to you.

You hesitated thinking about the pros and cons about doing this but Spooky did the job for you and slowly kissed you.

You slowly give in and slowly kiss him back. His lips felt so good on yours. He gave you emotions that you never felt with any guy you encountered.

You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck. He pulled you closer to him until there was no space left between both of you.

After the kiss, both of you look at each other with your foreheads against each other with soft smiles.

That was two years ago.

Read Part Two now: Part Two

#oscar spooky diaz #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz imagine #oscardiaz #cesardiaz #sad eyes omb #sad eyes #onmyblock #onmyblockimagines #on my block x reader #on my block imagine #rubymartinez #ruby martinez fic #spooky #spooky omb #spooky diaz

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failbaby · 4 years

Note

Can you please write moreid #3 from the fluff or 12 from misc?

Sorry this took me so long! This sort of prompt (not depressing or horny) is not what I’m used to writing, so it was kind of a challenge. I hope you like it! (Set during S1. Long as hell for absolutely no reason. Not NSFW, but warning for adult themes.)

Spencer wakes up as soon as the sun’s flush has spread to the center of the sky.

For a fraction of a second, before he’s opened his eyes, he’s certain he’s at home. Then, for an even smaller increment, he’s half-awake and confused at the unfamiliar angles at which the light fills his peripherals.

Then, then, once his brain has fully rejoined him on planet Earth, then he remembers.

Holy shit.

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid, Spencer.

Sleeping with your coworker?

Stupid.

Think.

He’s still asleep.

Carefully, as if he’s diffusing a bomb, Spencer removes Morgan’s (heavy, good Lord, what does this guy lift?) arm from where it’s draped across his chest and sits upright. He keeps every muscle in his body tense in an effort to keep as still as possible.

Twelve and a half feet from here to the door, clothes five feet three inches left of the door.

Will take me two minutes to dress. My legs are three feet and four inches long. My strides are four feet and five inches on average.

Sixteen stairs.

Six and a half inches each.

It should take him, he reasons, about four minutes and some change to dress himself and get out the front door, as long as he makes exceptionally good time and manages to dodge distractions. (He doesn’t want to seem too eager, after all, hanging around the house the morning after--he doesn’t want Morgan to know just how much this matters to him.)

As soon as Spencer shifts his weight, though, he realizes how sore the previous night had rendered him, and he tries to adjust his calculations for limping.

Six minutes? Eight?

He’s not sure.

He’s not sure of anything right now.

God, he hates being unsure.

Painstakingly slowly, Spencer climbs out of bed and tiptoes over to the corner of the room where his clothes had been carelessly discarded the night before.

(He finds that he almost doesn’t want to put them back on. He feels as though he’s somehow a changed person.)

For just a moment, as he’s wrestling his jeans on, Spencer pauses to drink in the domestic tranquility laid out before him. The sun has risen in full, and its gentle morning rays are slipping in defined slates through the blinds covering the window above the bed. Derek Morgan is passed out with his back to the corner of the room where Spencer is standing. Even from behind, everything about the older man seems regal, somehow; unnaturally beautiful, like he was created by something far more powerful than a man and a woman. His shoulder blades, the curvature of his spine, his medium-dark complexion that almost seems to glow in the sunlight--it’s all perfect. His back is scratched up, and it’s with genuine surprise that Spencer realizes he must’ve done that.

Reluctantly, he tears his eyes away and turns to face the wall as he gets dressed.

Four and a half minutes with NO DISTRACTIONS.

No distractions.

Don’t get distracted.

Don’t get--

“What’re you doing?” Morgan calls from behind him, voice thick with sleep.

Shit.

Spencer pivots quickly around, heart hammering, still holding his shirt in his left hand. “I was j—uh—I was just…leaving…?”

Morgan frowns. “I drove you here.”

“I was…gonna take the metro.”

“Uh-uh.” He yawns and sits up. “What kinda douchebag do you think I am? I’m not gonna fuck you and let you take the train home.”

“Morgan, I can—”

“Hey. Call me Derek, okay?”

“Derek, I can get myself home. It’s really not a problem.”

“It is a problem. I’ll make you breakfast. C’mon.” His face softens a bit. “Please?”

It occurs to Spencer, then, that he might actually be wanted here. He entertains the thought (doesn’t cling to it, but allows it to pass by without shooting it down) that Morgan - Derek, whatever - actually wants to make him breakfast, and isn’t just doing it out of obligation or because he feels bad for him. It’s an unfamiliar (though certainly not unwelcome) feeling-- being truly wanted is a dopamine rush he hasn’t felt in years.

Spencer nods, trying his best not to grin like a lovesick teenage girl. “Okay. Sure, I can stay for breakfast.”

…

Spencer’s never been good at sitting still, and it’s ten times worse when he’s nervous.

The atmosphere of the kitchen is not tense--that’s not the right way to describe it, because Derek certainly doesn’t seem tense, humming to himself as he flips pancakes and the dusty, familiar smell of the heat turning on fills the room--but Spencer is certainly tense. He hadn’t grabbed his shirt when he’d come downstairs, having been thrown off of his groove by Derek asking him to stay for breakfast, and he’s self-conscious and cold. He bounces his leg up and down idly and wrings his hands in his lap.

Sleeping with your coworker, he thinks, over and over and over. Stupid.

“Do you mind if I go look at your pictures?” He eventually asks, gesturing towards the framed photos on the wall in the living room.

“Not at all. These’ll be done in--actually, I’ll come in there.”

As Spencer stands up, he absentmindedly grabs a gray hoodie draped across the back of one of the kitchen chairs and tugs it over his head. It’s warm, soft, and smells like Derek.

He never wants to take it off.

Morgan’s living room is painted a pale blue color. The couch and coffee table sit a foot and a half apart. There’s a brown, circular rug (almost exactly six feet in diameter, Spencer notes) in the center of the floor. The walls are lined with photographs; side-by-side portraits of two pretty young women who Spencer recognizes as Derek’s sisters, a photo of Derek in front of some sort of waterfall with his arm around a slim, pretty brunette woman (which sparks an irrational jealousy that Spencer swallows as best he can), and a small framed photo of a group of people which looks to have been taken with a disposable camera.

Spencer moves in to get a closer look.

“Is this JJ on your wall here?”

“In the group picture with the unit?” Morgan calls. “Yeah. We look a lot younger there, huh?”

Spencer smiles. “You do. I didn’t even recognize Gideon. What year was this?”

“That was...‘98? ‘99? JJ’s first year. Probably my favorite year with the BAU yet.”

His favorite year ever was before I was there, Spencer realizes with a twinge of sadness.

“That was before we got the jet,” Derek continues. “Man, you don’t know the struggle. We used to fly commercial. Get split up and sat next to randos. But that was before 9/11, so...hey, did you see my hoodie anywhere? I swear I set down in here somewhere.”

Spencer’s smile fades. He balls his fists within the too-long sleeves of Derek’s missing hoodie. Fuck.

God, he’s so bad at these things.

He’s almost never sure in advance exactly where other people draw the lines of their comfort zones, but he can always tell once he’s overstepped them, and standing here at eight o’clock in the morning in his coworker’s living room, bare-chested beneath his hoodie, sore between the legs and staring at his family photos, he knows for sure that he’s overstepped. He’s gotten too comfortable.

Spencer reaches to pull the garment off. “Uh, I…”

“You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

“I’m not, I--”

Derek chuckles. “You’re super cute. I’ll be out there in one sec.”

Honestly, the fact that Derek regularly has two kinds of syrup (maple and blueberry) in his house is extremely intimidating.

Spencer’s spent most of his life around older people, and, though he certainly never feels left behind intellectually, there are occasional jarring moments when he realizes just how immature he is in comparison to his peers. This is one of these times; he feels adolescent and ridiculous looking around Morgan’s fully-furnished, Real Adult living room, thinking about how he probably has a mortgage and a spice cabinet and a swiffer mop.

(Two kinds of syrup--really? Spencer doesn’t even have ice cubes. Maybe it’s time for him to grow up and get an ice tray.)

“Did you know that the profitable blueberry season in South America directly follows the profitable blueberry season in North America, almost to the day?” Spencer asks, nervously dragging his forkful of pancake through his puddle of blueberry syrup. He’s hardly eaten. He’s too uneasy. “On the day that the average North American blueberry farmer’s profits decline to zero, the average South American blueberry farmer’s spike. Now, this is partly just because of demand, of course, but the fact that it’s so exact--”

“Spence?” Morgan interrupts.

He mentally kicks himself. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry. Listen, uh...do you think I could maybe...take you out...sometime?”

Spencer frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Snipe you. No. What do you think? To dinner or something.”

(If Spencer didn’t know any better, he’d almost think Derek looked nervous. He’s biting his lower lip--it’s a classic anxiety tell. Sometimes, Spencer really wishes he wasn’t a profiler.)

“...Why?”

“Why?” Morgan repeats. “Because I like you.”

Spencer’s stomach turns over. “You do?”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“...Do you really mean that?” (His heart hammers. He wonders, for a moment, if this is some kind of cruel joke, like the ones kids used to play on him in high school.)

“What? Of course I mean it.”

“Do you do this with everyone? I mean, everyone who…?”

“No.”

It’s difficult for Spencer to comprehend; he almost can’t wrap his head around the idea that someone so gorgeous and widely beloved and well-put-together would want anything at all to do with him, let alone this. “Then why is this time different?”

“Because you’re different. I’ve never met anyone like you in my life. Look, can I take you out, or not?”

Spencer locks eyes with Derek and raises his forkful of pancake (now completely saturated with blueberry syrup) to his lips. He’s not quite sure if the overwhelming, comfortable warmth he feels is from the heat, Derek’s hoodie, or the affection he feels bubbling up inside him at the prospect of a date, but he finds that he doesn’t really care.

“I’d like that.”

#moreid #ask #pay attention to me im bored #writing

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Text

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 5.1

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Five – Here on Tracy Island – Part 1 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 4.3 | 4.4 | 4.5 | 4.6 | 5.1

Author: Gumnut

20 Jun 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 3313

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos I started this fic before we saw it.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

No, I haven’t forgotten about this fic, and yes, it hit the six month mark about two weeks ago. I started writing this 8 Dec 2019. I’m nearly there.

Landmark, though. It is now officially my longest Thunderbirds fic, overtaking Gentle Rain today at around 60,000 words, depending on which word processing program it is sitting in. Never expected it to be this long.

This chapter pretty much wrote itself. It is almost like a role call of the five brothers and their states of mind. So a little bit of all the bros in this. I hope you enjoy.

Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom @scribbles97 and @onereyofstarlight for reading through various bits, fielding my many wibblies, and for all their wonderful support.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Day Five: Here on Tracy Island

Virgil woke late the next morning. It was a pleasant awakening, slipping from deep sleep to doze to a peaceful warmth beneath the covers. His room was dark. Darker than his cabin on A Little Lightning and with decidedly less sway.

He lay there for a while, enjoying the lack of need to get up and do anything and the absence of pain. He had slept the sleep of the dead and was thoroughly rested. There was something to be said about sleeping in your own bed at home that no holiday anywhere could provide.

But honestly, he wasn’t one to sit and do nothing for long, his brain kicking into gear while he lay there, listing off things waiting to be done. A visit to Two to reassure himself she had been checked over and was ready should she be needed. Not that he didn’t trust his family, it was just for his own peace of mind.

He should be able to get away with it so long as he didn’t spend too much time down there.

It took him a full half an hour of random rumination to realise that it was Christmas Day.

Oh shit.

The clock said eleven am.

His family...

He sat up abruptly and was thoroughly reminded of how stupid such a move was.

Oh, for the love of...

He grunted and rolled over until his face was smothered in his pillow.

The medic in his brain listed off the reasons why he shouldn’t have done that and why he needed to be careful and, goddamnit, he was sick of this. It was only an appendix, for crying out loud.

Stupid surgery.

That could have been so much worse.

He was being a spoilt child.

He let out a breath into his pillow, its warmth wrapping around his face. Another week and he would be fine.

But now, it was eleven oh five on Christmas morning and he was holding his family up.

He clambered out of bed with minimal complaint from his body, into the shower, a shave and into his familiar red flannel, jeans and boots.

It was such a comfort to be home.

He blow-dried his hair, gelled it up and made himself presentable.

The man who stared at him from his bathroom mirror was one appendix less and a whole pile of experience more.

He hummed to himself, tasting the notes in his throat. He could feel the soft whale skin under his fingertips, hear the lap of the water, the breeze in his hair...

And the music.

His eyes were closed without permission, the imagery taking over his mind. His fingers tapped against the bathroom vanity marking out the beat and rhythm of what he was trying to say, the pictures warping into abstract and lack of understanding.

Salty and long spoken, the notes repeated.

He didn’t know how long he stood there under the bathroom light, eyes seeing another world somewhere below the ocean surface.

By the time he shook off the haze it was eleven forty-five.

Almost lunchtime.

Alan would be foaming at the bit.

He pushed himself away from the sink and killed the light. Walking carefully across his room, he shook himself, rolling his shoulders. Get it together, Virgil. Your family is waiting for you.

Out through the door, down the corridor and, screw the stairs, he was taking the elevator.

It swallowed him whole.

-o-o-o-

Gordon had been up since before the sun. It was a sign that he was home. A session in the pool brought familiarity into the equation. There was definitely a difference between swimming in the pool versus the ocean and it had nothing to do with water salinity.

The ocean was beautiful and he adored it. But the pool sported no threat, no need to monitor his surroundings beyond the presence of a mischievous brother or two, leaving him to be able to focus on his stroke and let his mind wander.

The pleasant warmth of well used muscles pulling him forward through the water, simple thought processing...and considering the last few days, there were a lot of thoughts awaiting examination.

Some he had managed while piloting A Little Lightning on the home stretch, but there were still more needing answers and tactical decisions.

Sam. Mel. Scott. John. Virgil.

As far as he knew, Scott was still planning on inviting the neighbours over today. That would place Sam within reach of the apparently resistant Virgil.

He understood where both men were coming from. Virgil needed time and Sam was just a ball of eager energy.

Gordon was stuck between the two.

Push came to shove, he would side with Virgil regardless. He had too. But he really didn’t want to be divisive. If Virgil would talk just a little, it would help not only Sam and himself, but it might assuage the ball of worried energy that was Scott.

His arms sliced through water until he reached the end of the lane, his body automatically flipping and turning into the push off surge in the opposite direction. Air, splash and his hands slicing through the water again.

Okay, he would admit that he was worried himself. At first it was just amazing. His brother could sing to whales! A breakthrough. But yesterday he witnessed exactly how spaced Virgil became when singing and everything screamed wary. Humpback whales were beautiful creatures, but so big and so possibly unintentionally dangerous.

He couldn’t let Virgil anywhere near a whale alone. It just wasn’t safe. There was so much they didn’t know and the urge to protect his gentle brother just swelled in his heart.

They needed to investigate further. Find out exactly what was going on. Make sure his brother was safe. That it didn’t affect any water rescues.

They couldn’t afford to have Virgil spacing out in the ocean at random. As it was, Gordon wasn’t going to let Virgil anywhere near the ocean during rescues for the foreseeable future. He could stay up in Two.

Safe.

Whale song could travel around the globe.

His native realm had become a hazard for his big brother and that was unacceptable.

They had to find out what was going on.

John and Eos had made a good start, but Sam and himself needed to investigate further and soon.

Virgil needed to cooperate for his own safety.

Gordon broke his stroke, pushed himself to the side of the pool and rested his head on the concrete a moment, letting his body float randomly.

Blood pumped through his ears, his heart still running at exercise rate.

He needed to convince Virgil.

Somehow.

-o-o-o-

Scott revelled in the early dawn light. His feet pounded on his wonderfully familiar route around the Island. A trek he hadn’t laid eyes on for a week.

His runners crunched volcanic gravel beneath them.

The sun was just rising on Christmas Day, the beautiful weather hanging strong, the sea a stretch of glass disappearing off into the horizon. His current trajectory pointed him directly south where he knew beyond the glass lay Raoul Island. A single spot in a sea of blue, so similar to the even tinier spot that was Tracy Island.

Same sea of blue.

A pokey tree appeared on the side of the track, its red flowers quite glorious in the morning sun, and he found himself grinning. Sure, he knew the correct name of the pōhutukawa tree, but Alan’s name was so much easier to pronounce and it made Mel laugh.

His legs took the strain as he jogged up the rapidly steepening trail.

If he was honest with himself, the whole no strings attached thing was a lie. He found himself thinking about the woman more the longer they were away from Raoul.

And they only left yesterday.

As soon as the sun was high enough in the sky to be polite, he would be contacting Raoul with his invitation to her, Sam and Liam. It wasn’t the only time he had invited people to the Island, they weren’t entirely hermits, but it was rare and the first time in a long time.

And he was so looking forward to it.

Penny and Parker were due after breakfast as was the tradition. As soon as everyone was awake, they would have their present opening party, always a major family event. More for the company and laughter than the presents themselves.

He could almost hear Gordon declaring it ‘Tracy style’ complete with the arm movements to compliment the claim.

But Mel...it was like he was excited to show her the Island, perhaps because he knew she would be very interested in the ecosystem that had developed here since their father had begun repairing it over a decade ago.

And he was staring at it right now as he followed the path around the back of the Island. Pokey trees, palms and ferns were everywhere a foothold was available. Scott knew very little about their ecosystem beyond the need to keep it safe. Gordon and Virgil were the ones who knew most about it among the brothers. Gordon focussed on the sea and Virgil sometimes helped out with animal numbers and photography for the scientific group.

But Mel hadn’t been here since Dad...

He grunted and hurdled a rock he hurdled every morning as the slope inverted and started heading down. The view was stunning.

Despite the glass of the ocean, the swell still crashed on the back cliffs of the Island, jagged volcanic rock resistant to the relentless pounding.

Hopefully she would consent to the visit even though it was late notice.

He did have a Thunderbird, after all.

-o-o-o-

John hadn’t slept much. He never did when something was on his mind. His everything drove him to find a solution, particularly when a brother was involved.

Eos never slept, so she was the perfect insomnia companion.

There was also the factor that he was home, but he really wasn’t.

He was missing Five.

Now he was back on the Island, everything was screaming at him to go home.

Not that he didn’t like the Island, quite the opposite. The Island contained his brothers, his grandmother, Kayo, his family and he adored his family.

But the stars were calling to him. His body ached to feel the release from gravity. He wanted his home.

He ignored it.

His body needed gravity. It was an undeniable fact. It had evolved under the pressure exerted by the planet and while his mind adored the stars and the lack of gravity, nature demanded its return under the ‘use it or lose it’ mandate of life on Earth.

So, tired, but awake anyway as the sun hit the front of the villa, John made his way down to the pool where he found Gordon, as expected, in the water, but unexpectedly, not swimming. His head was lying on one arm at the edge of the pool, his body floating lazily behind.

John dropped his towel on a lounger and, bare footed to the edge next to his brother. Folding himself into a seated position he dropped his feet to dangle in the cool water.

“Gordon?”

“Hmm?” His head rose a little blearily. “Oh, John, hey.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Huh? What, oh, Merry Christmas, John.”

A frown. “You okay?”

Gordon flexed his shoulders. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“Virgil?”

“Yeah.”

John sighed. “Same. But you do know he’s okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking it through.”

John pushed himself into the water and couldn’t help a relieved sigh as the water took away so many of the effects of gravity, cradling his body. “Swim with me?”

Brown eyes turned to him and John saw a reflection of his own worry in their depths. “Sure.” Gordon pushed off from the edge, his movements graceful despite his distraction.

John moved to the lane next to Gordon’s preferred and lined up beside his fish brother. Gordon shot him a brief but grateful smile before pushing off the end in a careless surge into stroke. He was metres ahead before John had even shifted into form.

Typical.

Show off.

But he couldn’t help but smile as he pushed off the edge himself, automatically moving into a strong but leisurely stroke in warm up.

Swimming denied verbal communication, but it wasn’t needed, the two of them just keeping each other company.

By the fifth lap, John started pushing himself, putting his body through the exercise needed to keep it healthy. He had no delusions of keeping up with Gordon. He just paced himself as his body needed it. Twenty laps in, he eased up a little and checked on his brother.

Gordon was still going. John brought himself to a halt, treading water, muscles pleasantly buzzing.

“Hey, John.” The astronaut startled, turning in place to find Scott standing on the edge of the pool. His running gear appeared well used, sweat stains prominent, and he was still breathing heavily. “Just letting you know that I’m going to be taking One out in about half an hour.”

“You going to get Mel and Sam?” Gordon was suddenly beside him. It was a sign of how tired John actually was that his younger brother startled him almost as much as Scott had a moment earlier.

“Yeah.”

“Can I come with?”

“Don’t you want to be here for when Penny arrives?”

John arched an eyebrow in Gordon’s direction. The fish had been looking forward to Christmas for that very reason. Before Virgil’s illness, it had been Penelope this, Penelope that. Apparently, he had the ‘best’ gift lined up for their first Christmas as a couple. Whether or not that was still going ahead considering recent events, John had no idea. Gordon hadn’t mentioned it since Virgil fell ill.

“I thought you had the fastest plane on the planet, Scotty.”

Their eldest brother snorted. “Plane, yes, younger brother, no.”

“Hey, I can be fast.” A strawberry blond frown. “Regardless, I need to speak to Sam.”

Scott eyed him a moment. “Virgil?”

Gordon sighed. “Yeah, Virgil. Gotta handle this delicately.”

Scott’s lips thinned. “Okay, then you better be ready in thirty because that’s when I’m leaving.”

The fish was already climbing out of the pool. Wet footprints marked the concrete as he strode to his towel.

Blue eyes turned to John. “You okay? You look tired.”

John let water run through his fingers. “I am, but I’ll live.”

Voice quiet. “Virgil?”

A single nod, voice equally quiet. “Virgil. Eos, Gordon and I will work it out. We just need time.” And patience. Admittedly, he didn’t have much of that where his brothers’ health was concerned. He could fake it, but it didn’t mean he felt it.

Scott’s expression was thoughtful. “I know you will do your best. Don’t forget to look after yourself.”

A groan. This was why Virgil was always adamant that he was fine. I single hint of something wrong and their biggest brother was all over them, his concern obvious. “I’m fine, Scott.”

That earned him a grunt and John actually struggled not to smile at his brother’s exasperation. John swam to the pool edge and pushed himself out of the water. A wave in the direction of the rising sun’s reflection. “The pool is all yours, dear brother.”

Scott eyed him. “Thank you.”

The morning breeze cooled John enough to raise goose pimples on his arms. Before he could reach for his towel, Scott was handing it to him.

Ever the big brother. It was John’s turn to eye him back. “Thank you.”

Scott smiled at him, a definite smirk on those lips. He knew exactly what John was thinking and had likely done it on purpose. “Anytime.”

Hmmm. “Merry Christmas, Scott.”

Those blue eyes widened as his big brother obviously realised that despite all the preparations underway, despite the tree they had stacked with presents the night before, he had still managed to forget the significance of the day.

It was John’s turn to smirk.

But Scott recovered quickly, tilting his head, a small smile on his lips. “Merry Christmas, John.”

With that he turned and headed off into the house.

-o-o-o-

Alan loved to sleep in. He shared this love with his second eldest brother. Getting up early sucked big time and he had no coffee addiction to help him.

But there was one day of the year when you could witness the youngest Tracy out of bed, while not early, at least a decent time where breakfast could still be called breakfast and not lunch or even brunch.

Christmas Day.

Alan adored the day. Presents, food and family, what more could a guy ask for?

So, eight am found him stumbling down the stairs to the kitchen in search of the second and third items on the list. He found Grandma at the kitchen table eating her fruit and yoghurt.

Alan made no effort to be quiet, but she didn’t appear to realise he was there, staring out across the lagoon. “Grandma?”

She dropped her spoon with a clatter as it hit the bowl. “Alan!” She clutched her hand to her chest, gasping. “You frightened me. Gave my old heart a kick in the pants.”

“Sorry, Grandma. Are you okay?”

“This time. Though I wouldn’t recommend doing it too often.” She held out an arm. “C’mere and give me a Christmas hug.”

Now that was something he was quite happy to do. Grandma hugs were always appreciated. “Merry Christmas, Grandma.” He held her tight.

“Merry Christmas, honey. Are you hungry?”

Uh, that was always a loaded question and there were important indicators related to that. “Where is everyone?” He had expected to find at least John down here. His space brother would eat his breakfast staring out into the lagoon and follow it with work on his tablet just to be around family in his own way. But not today.

“Scott and Gordon have gone to Raoul to collect Ms Fisher and that scientist friend of Gordon’s.”

“Sam?”

“I guess. They were both in quite a hurry to leave.”

That set Alan grinning. “I think Scott likes Mel.”

An arched eyebrow. “I thought she liked Virgil.”

A snort accompanied the grin. “I don’t think she is Virgil’s kind of girl.”

Of course, that was the very moment Kayo decided to enter the kitchen. She had obviously been on a run, dressed in shorts and a high cut top.

“Who’s Virgil’s kind of girl?”

Alan’s eyes widened. “Um.”

Green narrowed at him. “What are you up to, Alan?”

“Nothing!” He held out his hands. “What did I do?”

“I’m more concerned with what you are going to do.”

“Suspicious, much? I’m going to eat breakfast, that’s what.”

She continued to eye him. “No practical jokes today.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. Gee, you’d think I was Gordy or something.”

“Gordon will be contained by Lady Penelope. You, however, are not.”

“And what? That makes me some kind of prank genius?”

“Genius, no, annoyance, yes.”

“Hey, Merry Christmas, Kayo. How about a little of the spirit?”

She glared and him and grunted before turning away and stalking off.

“What’s up her skirt?”

“Alan!”

“Well, you saw her. I didn’t do anything!”

Grandma was quiet a moment. “She has things on her mind.”

“When doesn’t she?”

“Let her be.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

Grandma sighed. “Things will work themselves out for the best.”

Alan stared at his grandmother. What on Earth was going on? Did everyone know something that he didn’t. He sighed. Wouldn’t be the first time. “I’m going grab some breakfast.”

“Yes, dear.” And Grandma was staring out at the lagoon again.

What the-?

Alan grabbed the refrigerator door and flung it open, his eyes raking its contents. Perhaps food would fix things.

A glance at Grandma found that she hadn’t moved.

There was definitely something going on.

-o-o-o-

End Day 5 Part 1

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Alan Tracy #Grandma Tracy #kermadec fic

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ashdoesfandomarchieved · 4 years

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Valentines Day shenanigans with the ship of your choice? Or maybe board game/poker night with the main four?

(Direct sequel of midnight revelations)

It starts like this:

Mariner is teaching Tendi poker. Or well, Mariner is teaching Tendi her version of poker which involves no pants—for some reason—, various pointy objects that Sam is keeping his distance from and an abundance of multi-language profanity that is rather impressive for two women outside of the linguistics department.

Really though, Sam is impressed

Tendi, who has absolutely no poker face, is somehow winning and Mariner is somewhere between proud mom friend™ and shoving her throwing stars at the first person who pokes fun at her losing streak. Somewhere in all of this, Mariner runs out of credits and contraband, so with a sigh and a characteristic half-smirk, she tosses her last chip on the table.

“I’m going all in.”

“Your all in would be scarier if it literally wasn’t your last credit,” Sam remarks sarcastically from where he’s nursing a beer.

Mariner flips him the bird. “Whaddya you got for me, D’Vana?”

Tendi, trying to hold back her shit-eating grin and failing—again no poker face—shoves her huge pile of chips into the center of the table.

“Oh, I’m all in, baby.”

“Good,” Mariner grins back.

“Good,” Tendi replies, crossing her arms.

“Fine.”

“I’m glad you went all in.”

“So am I.”

“Please stop flirting and finish the game,” Sam mutters, rolling his eyes.

Mariner doesn’t flip him the bird this time but gives him a side-eye that would have been its usual level of pee-your-pants-terrifying if not for the light blush that dusts her cheeks.

Tendi giggles. “Wanna raise the stakes?”

“Have you met me?”

“That’s fair,” both Tendi and Sam say in the same voice. Mariner rolls her eyes but can’t suppress her smug grin.

“Loser has to ask out the next person who enters the room,” Tendi says, dramatically steepling her hands in front of her face.

Mariner snorts. Loudly. “What are we, fucking twelve?”

“You got a better idea?” Tendi taunts.

“Actually,” Mariner lets a smirk crawl across her face. “As long as we’re going with sleepover levels of dares…loser has to get the next person who walks through that door to date them for three weeks without cracking.”

Tendi cackles, throwing down her cards.

“Full house,” Sam absentmindedly notes. “Not bad, Tendi.”

“Yeah, not bad,” Mariner says, revealing her hand to be royal fucking flush. “Enjoy that date, D’Vana.”

Sam chokes on his drink, while Tendi groans. Mariner laughs psychotically. “Work on that poker face, baby girl. You’ll get it eventually.”

“Ugh, you were just letting me win.”

“Maybe,” Mariner grins innocently. Tendi scowls at her. “Oh, come on,” she laughs. “Whoever comes through that door next can’t be that bad.”

This was the exact moment that Sam realizes that the universe has a sense of humor, because Brad fucking Boimler walks through the door.

Tendi turns a little blue around the cheeks—the Orion equivalent to blushing, Sam guesses—and smiles at him, waving.

“Fuck,” Mariner hisses. “Abort mission!”

Sam and Tendi frown at her. “What?”

“D’Vana, you cannot date Boimler,” Mariner whispers furiously.

“That was the deal!” Tendi hisses back, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Babe I love you, but you can’t fuck with him like that.”

“And it’s okay to fuck with other people?”

“Yes!”

Sam slaps a hand to his face. “You fuck with Boimler every day of the week, Mariner.”

“That’s different!”

“How?” Tendi demands.

Mariner—the woman who had been promoted and demoted so many times that her file was longer than a goddamn Britannica, jumped head first into anything that remotely whispered of danger, fought with the Captain daily, snarked at superior officers, gave zero fucks about Starfleet protocol, and had probably, at some point, flipped off the devil—is rendered completely speechless.

Sam begins to rapidly connect some dots.

“It’s only for three weeks,” Tendi continues. “And Brad’s kinda cute, in like, an intense I have crippling anxiety way.”

“Brad?” Mariner repeats, looking horrified. “You call him Brad?”

“Yes?” Boimler says, coming up behind her. Mariner lets out an uncharacteristic shriek and jumps about a foot in the air.

“Dude what the fuck.”

Boimler looks very very confused. “What?”

“What?” Mariner repeats loudly, eyes widening.

“Brad, wanna go out?” Tendi chirps, smiling innocently at him.

Aw, and now Sam has two adorable friends who are blushing, well, adorably at each other and one friend who is having a complete mental breakdown in the background.

“What, really? I would love to—why aren’t you guys wearing any pants?” Boimler asks, exasperated.

Tendi lets out a snicker. “Mariner.”

Boimler gives Mariner an unimpressed look. Mariner tries to glare back, but it’s weak for her standards.

“I actually just finished my shift,” he says, turning back to Tendi. “Do you want to hang out?”

While Tendi cheers enthusiastically, Sam discreetly eyes his other friend. Mariner is kind of hyperventilating in the background, hands twitching toward the half-filled bottle of vodka she and Tendi had been chugging earlier. Sam carefully inches it away, unsure if she’s going to chug the rest of it or attack someone with it.

She makes a wounded noise at Tendi, who grabs Boimler by the arm and drags him out of the room, unreservedly talking a mile a minute about something that Sam’s already lost track of.

“What the fuck just happened.”

“I think Tendi asked Boimler on a date,” Sam replies, calmly. Mariner whips her head around and stares at him. The look behind her eyes is deranged.

“We have to break them up.”

Sun, moon and stars, the next three weeks were going to be a Mariner sized nightmare.

“I don’t get it, she’s completely out of his league—”

“Not true.”

“—they have nothing in common—”

“Sometimes opposites attract.”

“—and she’s just stringing him along! She’s going to dump him in two weeks!”

Sam sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. They were about a week into Mariner’s dare and he already was ready to throw Mariner, Tendi and Boimler—poor, clueless Boimler—out of an airlock. Mariner had already tried to break the two up somewhere around two dozen times and had only succeeded in bringing them closer together.

This of course made Mariner even more determined to sabotage her friends.

“It’s not the end of the world, Mariner.”

“Of course, it is!” she hisses at him. “They break up and then I have to deal with Boimler being sad forever while also not shit-talking my best friend and not letting him know that I was the person who set them up!”

“Or they have an amicable break up and go back to being friends. Dude, they haven’t even progressed past basic hand holding. I don’t think it’s going to be a huge heart wrenching dumping.”

Boimler and Tendi enter the room, holding hands. “I feel like you’re the only one who understands me, sometimes,” Boimler says.

Mariner’s eye twitches.

“What should I get Brad for Valentines Day?” Tendi asks five days later, apropos to nothing. Mariner sits up so fast that she hits her head on the top of her bunk.

“WHAT.”

Tendi frowns over at her, looking up from her data padd. “Valentines Day? It’s a Terra Prime holiday that humans generally celebrate yearly around the Terra season of—”

“I KNOW WHAT VALENTINES DAY IS.”

Sam winces, along with the few unfortunate ensigns who happen to be in the cabin, at the volume. “You and Boimler are celebrating Valentines Day?” he weakly asks.

Tendi grins, her tongue sticking out between her teeth adorably. “He told me about it last night and asked if we could exchange gifts!”

There’s a dull thunk as Mariner repeatedly hits her head against the wall.

“Do we need to talk about this?” Sam asks, watching Mariner chug half her weight in alcohol at the bar.

“My liver, my rules.”

“Not your alcoholic diet,” Sam sighs, taking a seat and signaling to the barman. “Although I would lay off the tequila if you want to be functional tomorrow morning.”

Mariner scowls and raises the bottle to her lips again.

“I’m talking about your feelings for Boimler.”

Mariner chokes. “My fucking what.”

Sam rolls his eyes. He had hoped—for about a millisecond—that when Tendi had joined their group that someone else would finally, perhaps, have some braincells to go around, but no, it seems that Sam Rutherford is the only rational fucking person in their dysfunctional foursome.

“Don’t be the idiot you pretend to be,” he replies, calmly taking a sip of his own drink.

Mariner narrows her eyes at him. “I don’t have feelings for—”

“I’m not an idiot either, Mariner.”

“Look,” she snaps, “I’m vaguely attracted to almost everyone, it’s just who I am. I do not have feelings for Boimler, I’m just aware that he’s. Aesthetically pleasing and nice to be around.”

“Then stop acting like a crazy person whenever he tries to date anyone,” Sam snaps back. “If you’re not interested, then you need to back off.”

Mariner is quiet for a long moment. “Do you think he and D’Vana—”

“I think they enjoy each other’s company and that they’re both kind of lonely,” Sam replies, before she can finish. “If you want to know more, talk to Tendi.”

His friend nods, soberly. Sam feels kind of bad for snapping at her, but also knows that she appreciates his honesty.

“There’s worse things then falling for Boimler,” he says, nudging her encouragingly. “Even if he is a complete spaz.”

This coaxes a weak grin out of her. “He is so fucking awkward.”

“You should tell him.”

“That he’s awkward? I have, he got all fussed up and started—”

“That you like him,” Sam specifies, grinning.

Mariner, seemingly forgetting that she had just been denying her crush on their friend, protests, “He’s dating Tendi, dumbass, I’m not going to—”

“Hey, trust me on this one,” Sam says. “Just follow your instincts.”

“My instincts are telling me to desert him on an alien planet before I become too attached.”

“Follow my instincts.”

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Mariner does not, in fact, follow Sam’s instincts.

He isn’t there for what happens next, but hears about it from an amused Tendi who swings up into his bunk that evening to give him the lowdown.

“So, Beckett has a crush on Brad,” she says, hugging his pillow to her midsection.

Sam puts down his data padd and watches Tendi very carefully. “Oh?”

“Yep. She cornered him in the cafeteria, told him his eyes were pretty and that she liked him and then left, screeching something about sitcom-b plots and Starfleet alumni. I think she has inside jokes with herself? I’m not sure what that was about.”

Sam can’t suppress the laugh that bubbles out of him. “God, she’s crazy. Are you okay?”

Tendi frowns, confused, at him. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Your best friend has a crush on your boyfriend?”

“My—my what? Wait, oh nine hells YOU GUYS THINK BRAD AND I ARE DATING?”

Sam has a sudden moment of clarity where he realizes that he does not, in fact, have all the braincells in their group.

“You aren’t?” he dumbly asks.

Tendi starts laughing. She laughs so hard she almost falls out of his bunk—he thankfully catches her in time, but it’s a close one. “Rutherford. Sam,” she wipes a tear away from her eyes. “I’m aromatic, you absolute complete dumbass.”

“You are?” Probably not the best reaction to his friend coming out, but Sam hardly has time to apologize, before Tendi is laughing at him again.

“Brad—well, I probably shouldn’t tell you, it’s his thing—but he kind of understands where I’m coming from. We were having friend dates.”

“But…Valentines Day,” he stresses.

Tendi rolls her eyes. “I asked Brad about Terra traditions and holidays and he gave me a fucking history lecture it was so boring. I did like the idea of Valentines Day and asked if I could partake in it with him. He suggested gift giving.”

Sam stares at her. “I am a dumbass.”

“You are,” she agrees. “But I need your dumbass brain to help me get Brad and Beckett together.”

“Oh, so you do have all the braincells,” he says, grinning.

Tendi’s smile is sharp. “I have no idea what you’re on about, but yes. Yes I do.”

Getting Mariner and Boimler together is way easier said than done. Mariner is avoiding everyone like a goddamn plague and Boimler is fluctuating between literally vibrating with anxiety and being depressed as shit.

“Well they definitely don’t have the braincells,” Sam says, after another failed attempt to trap the two of them in a room together.

“You need to stop talking about braincells,” Tendi sighs. “Why don’t we just tell them that they like each other?”

“We can’t do that!”

“Why?”

“It’s too easy that way!”

Tendi stares at him.

Sam stares back.

“I’m telling Brad that Beckett has squishy feelings for him,” she deadpans. “And you’re going to try to catch Beckett and tell him that I don��t have squishy feelings for him. And then we’re going to lock them in a goddamn turbolift until they get their freak on.”

Tendi either has all of the braincells or none of them.

Their plan surprisingly takes a whole lot less subterfuge than Sam was expecting and a lot more—well—emotions. He did manage to find Mariner and after guiltily admitting that he may have been a bit wrong about the nature of Boimler and Tendi’s relationship, she was off in a shot, shrieking some nonsense about “third-act bullshit” and how she didn’t sign up to be the “pawn in a romantic subplot.”

Mariner might, actually, be certifiably crazy.

Brad hears about one of the turbolifts breaking from another ensign in his department. He and Tendi subtly high-five.

Six hours later—“if there was ever a time for buffer time, that time is now, Tendi”—a grinning Mariner and a mildly disheveled, exit the turbolift.

It ends like this:

Tendi is attempting to teach Sam poker. Well. It’s not actual poker, more like a hybrid of Mariner’s version of poker and a card game from Tendi’s home world, but it’s close enough and they’re having fun, so it really doesn’t matter.

Mariner is drunk as fuck, alternating between casually hitting on a flustered Boimler and insulting the shit out of anyone who even looks in their direction.

Tendi lays down her cards. Straight flush. Sam moans in despair. Boimler lets out a shriek of stop doing that we’re in public you moron and Mariner cackles in that unhinged way of hers.

None of them have the braincells.

#star trek lower decks #sam rutherford #d'vana tendi #beckett mariner #brad boimler #star trek fanfiction #prompts #prompt response

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