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whisperedmeg · 2 days ago

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RE-ENTRY BURN ―.✦ s.r. soft animal series ∘ part vi

pairing: spencer reid x fem!nurse!reader

summary: spencer returns to the field, and the soft parts of him begin to harden. together, they search for a way to hold on.

genre: hurt/comfort, like kinda fluff if you squint I guess?

w/c: 2.7k

tags/warnings: post-prison spencer, spencer goes back to work, reader gets anxious again but for a diff reason, spencer is still a reassuring sweetie pie, reader meets (part of) the bau, just some kissing but nothing more than that, big moment in their relationship !!

a/n: I wrote, erased, and rewrote the second half of this chapter like five separate times before I was happy with it and I’m still not 100% convinced, so I hope it turned out okay. no spoilers but there’s some major payoff at the end in this one 🙂‍↕️. as always, thank you sm to everyone who has followed this series so far 🫶🏼

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The call came on a Thursday morning.

Spencer was sitting on my living room floor, back against the couch, flipping through a book of poetry he insisted he didn’t like but kept rereading anyway. I was in the kitchen in one of his old t-shirts, buttering toast and making an omelette and wondering if I had time for a shower before my shift. The air smelled like coffee and rain. It felt like a quiet, ordinary kind of day.

Then his phone rang. And I watched everything in his body go still.

“Yes,” he said after picking up. “This is Dr. Reid.”

His fingers tightened around the phone. His spine straightened. I turned off the burner.

I didn’t try to listen, but I didn’t leave the room either. He only said a few words: Okay. Thank you. I understand. See you soon. But when he hung up, he didn’t just look different — he looked lit up, like something dormant had just sparked back to life.

He stared at the phone in his hand for a second, then looked at me with wide, stunned eyes.

“That was them?”

He nodded slowly. Then, voice thick with disbelief and something close to awe: “They’re taking me back. I’m reinstated.”

For a beat, all we did was stare at each other.

Then I crossed the room and launched myself at him. He caught me, laughing, and spun us around so fast we nearly knocked over a vase.

“Oh my god,” I said, cupping his face. “Spencer, that’s amazing. You did that.”

“I didn’t think—” he broke off, blinking fast. “I thought it would take longer. Or that they’d changed their minds.”

I kissed him, hard and messy and happy and full of relief. He kissed me back just as fiercely, both hands buried in my hair. We were still tangled in each other when the real weight of it started to settle between us.

I pulled back slightly, breathless. “So… what happens now?”

“I report to Quantico next week. There’s some re-entry protocol — updated field certifications, paperwork, so on. Then I’m back on the team.” He paused, then added, “Back on the jet.”

I nodded, trying to keep my smile steady. “Right. Of course.”

But a quiet fear had already begun to curl into my chest — something I didn’t want to name. The fear that maybe the version of Spencer I’d come to know, the one who made me coffee with too much cinnamon and traced my shoulder blades with reverence, was only who he was here, with me.

Who was he when he was chasing monsters across state lines again? Who was I to him in that world?

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching for my hand. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted. “I’m so, so happy for you. And I want this for you. I… I just don’t know what it means for us. I don’t know that version of you. Your life is about to get a lot bigger, and I’m still here, going back and forth to Millburn, in scrubs, on twelve-hour shifts, staying exactly the same.”

“You think I’m going to leave you behind?”

I paused. “I don’t really think that. But I still fear it. Which might be worse.”

His grip tightened slightly. “I’m not going anywhere. But… I know this will change things. I just don’t know how yet.”

We sat with that — the not-knowing. It was becoming a constant companion.

He exhaled slowly, his forehead resting against mine. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

—

His first day back, I packed him lunch.

It felt stupid and too intimate and maybe a little bit like denial, but I did it anyway. Hummus, cut-up vegetables, and fruit, plus two hardboiled eggs he’d probably forget to eat. Spencer had a habit of doing that — starting a meal but then getting too absorbed in his work or the documentary on TV or the book in his lap to remember to finish it. I tucked in a note before I could overthink it: You’ve survived worse. Just breathe. You’re gonna be great.

He texted me later to say thank you. Then I didn’t hear from him for six hours.

I tried not to spiral.

When he finally walked into his apartment, he looked… different. Not bad, but sharper. Like someone had ironed some of the softness out of him. I was already waiting for him on his couch — he’d given me my own key last week and told me to use it.

“How was it?” I asked.

“Strange,” he said honestly. “Good. Overwhelming.”

I kissed him and tried to pretend I wasn’t searching his eyes for cracks.

—

By day three, he was already packing an overnight bag.

“There’s a case,” he said, tucking mismatched socks into a duffel. “We think there’s an unsub targeting sex workers.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching. “That was fast.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s the job.”

The words landed harder than he probably meant. I swallowed thickly.

“Will I get to know where you are?”

He turned, reaching for me. “You can know everything I’m allowed to tell you. I won’t shut you out.”

I nodded, because I didn’t trust my voice.

He kissed me once — soft and lingering — and then he was gone.

—

The next few days passed slowly.

He texted when he landed in Denver. Again when they reached the local precinct. That first night, he called me from his hotel room. His voice was tired but steady, full of soft reassurances: I’m okay. I’m thinking about you. I wish you were here.

But the check-ins were short. Sporadic. Sometimes twelve hours went by without a word, and I had to remind myself he was just busy. That it wasn’t about me. That he had bigger things to worry about. That he wasn’t retreating.

Still, I found myself staring at my phone more than I wanted to admit. Writing texts I didn’t send. Wondering if this low, quiet ache in my chest was normal or the beginning of something harder.

When he got back four days later, he smelled like airplane soap and adrenaline. His arms were around me the second he was through my front door, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“I missed you,” he murmured against my hair.

I squeezed him closer. “I missed you every second.”

Then he pulled back, and I saw it — the part of him that was already half gone again.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “Are you?”

“I’m tired. But yeah.”

“Did you eat the eggs?”

He blinked. “What?”

“In the lunch I packed. On your first day back.”

A small smile tugged at his mouth. “I forgot.”

—

That weekend, Spencer’s work friends invited him out to a nice dinner downtown.

He insisted I join him. Said he wanted me there. That he wanted me to meet more of his team, and that they wanted to meet me, too.

I said yes because I could tell it meant a lot to him — and because I genuinely did want to meet the people closest to him — but I was a nervous wreck over it. I felt like I was going to be interviewed by the people who had known him for years, who had pulled him from blood-soaked crime scenes and watched him unravel and rebuild more than once. People — profilers — who could probably read body language as easily as breathing. People who would know if I was feeling even just a little bit off.

Penelope nearly vibrated with joy when Spencer and I walked into the restaurant, hugging me like I was a gift-wrapped surprise. JJ gave me her usual perceptive, friendly smile, the kind that made me feel both seen and slightly exposed.

But it was meeting Emily and Rossi for the first time that made me sweat.

Emily shook my hand with polite warmth, but her eyes were sharp. Measuring. Assessing. As if she couldn’t help it. As if it was hardwired into her, the way it was hardwired into me to check pupils and track vitals. Rossi gave me a smile so charming it almost felt intimidating — not because he was skeptical, but because he was paying close attention, the way you do when someone you love finally lets you see something they’ve been protecting.

I did my best to hold my own. I answered questions about myself — my job at the infirmary, the story of how Spencer and I met (they loved hearing how I’d given him my number via scrabble tiles), what I liked to do outside of work. I laughed when they teased Spencer about still being the worst at remembering to eat, and about the time he tried to explain string theory at a retirement party and knocked over an entire cheese platter mid-metaphor. He rolled his eyes and claimed it was an unfair exaggeration, but his ears turned pink.

There was a moment when Emily asked what had drawn me to Spencer, and a million different answers piled up in my throat all at once. I just smiled and said, “He’s easy to care about. Even at his lowest, he was still always the kindest person in the room. Plus, he even pretended to feel bad when he kicked my ass in chess.”

Garcia let out a delighted little sound, pressing her hand to her heart. JJ’s eyes softened with something almost protective. Rossi gave an approving nod and raised his glass. And Emily — she didn’t quite smile, but her shoulders loosened, like she was easing off an invisible trigger.

Still, the entire dinner felt a little like walking a tightrope — one foot in Spencer’s universe, the other still hovering over mine. I couldn’t tell if I was holding my breath or just trying to match their rhythm.

“You okay?” JJ asked gently while we waited for dessert. “It’s a lot, I know.”

“Being part of this world?”

She tilted her head. “Being with someone who spends half their life chasing ghosts.”

I smiled tightly. “I haven’t quite figured out where I fit yet.”

“You don’t have to know today,” she said. “But if you care about him — and it’s pretty clear you do — then hang on. He’s worth the turbulence.”

I looked over at Spencer, who was in the middle of arguing with Garcia about the probability of alien life as if the past six months hadn’t nearly broken him. His hands moved as he spoke, his expression animated, utterly absorbed in the debate. There was something so familiar about it — the way he lit up, the way he met the world with open palms and big questions. Like the worst thing had already happened, and now he was trying to believe in wonder again.

“I know he is,” I said softly. “But turbulence still leaves you breathless sometimes.”

—

Later, in the car, Spencer took my hand. “You okay? You’ve been kind of quiet.”

I shrugged, watching the city pass by through the window. “I’m just tired. It was a good night.”

He glanced over at me, unconvinced but gentle.

“I really like Penelope,” I added. “She always hugs me like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“She thinks you are,” he said, no hesitation. “And she’s right.”

I smiled, feeling my cheeks warm. “And JJ. She’s… perceptive. And kind. Like she sees things but doesn’t make you feel too exposed.”

His thumb brushed across my knuckles, slow and steady.

“And Emily was warm in a scary, FBI-chief sort of way. I was terrified she hated me, but then she made that joke about your hair and I felt like I passed some kind of test.”

Spencer let out a soft laugh. “That’s exactly how you know she likes you.”

“And Rossi’s stories are even better than you said they’d be,” I continued. “Though I’m still not convinced that the one about the ambassador’s wife and Ringo Starr actually happened.”

“Oh, it definitely did.”

That made me laugh. I leaned my head back against the seat, exhaling. “It was a good night, Spence. Really.”

Spencer smiled softly, but didn’t say anything. His thumb moved in slow, absentminded circles against my hand — like he was trying to ground me without interrupting whatever was unraveling inside my head.

I hesitated. “It’s just…”

He waited, thumb still brushing lightly over my knuckles. I kept my gaze on the window.

“It’s strange,” I said slowly. “Watching you slip back into your world so naturally. Not in a bad way — it’s a good kind of strange. But I’m still figuring out where I fit.” I paused for a beat. “Sometimes I worry I’m just watching your life take off without me.”

He turned to look at me, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “That’s not what’s happening.”

“I know,” I murmured. “But it feels that way sometimes. You’re re-entering a life that’s so much bigger than I ever knew, and I’m still finding my place in it.”

His fingers tightened gently around mine. “You’re not on the outside of this. You never were. You’ve always had a place with me.”

I nodded, though the ache lingered. “I know, Spence. It’s just… kind of a lot, I guess. I wasn’t ready for how much of it existed before me, which I know sounds incredibly silly.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled the car over with a soft turn of the wheel, settling us into the stillness of a side street, headlights casting long shadows through the trees. Then he turned toward me fully.

“You’re part of my life,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “The best part. I just need you to trust that I’m still in this. Even when I’m gone on cases. Even when I come home wrecked and quiet. I’m still with you.”

I looked at him then, really looked. At the man who had once been shattered, who had let me see every broken edge, who had handed me the glue and trusted me not to cut myself as I helped him put the pieces back together. And who now was flying straight toward the storm again, because that’s what he was made to do.

“I trust that,” I said softly. “I really do. I just don’t want to be the thing that keeps you grounded if what you really need is flight.”

His brow softened, and he reached across the console to cup my jaw, thumb brushing just beneath my cheekbone, tender and steady. “You’re not holding me down,” he said. “You’re giving me a reason to land.”

My throat tightened. The knot in my chest loosened — not all the way, but enough. I nodded, blinking against the rush of everything that wanted to spill out.

He gave my hand a final squeeze and slowly pulled back onto the road.

And this time, I really did let myself believe him.

—

That night, we didn’t sleep right away. We just… laid there, wrapped around each other, quiet and breathing like the hush itself was sacred. His hand rested against my back, fingers tracing slow, absent-minded lines — like he was etching something into the moment to keep forever.

It all felt different now. Not just tender, but certain. Like something had settled between us that couldn’t be undone.

He shifted slightly, just enough to look at me. His eyes moved across my face like he was studying it, memorizing it, letting the silence stretch long enough to make my breath catch.

Then he said, softly but without hesitation, “I love you.”

No preamble. No buildup. Just the truth, laid bare between us.

It hit me like a tidal wave, sudden and warm and full. I think part of me had been waiting for him to say that — aching for it, really. I had felt it already, but still, actually hearing it aloud cracked something open in my chest.

I blinked hard and reached for him, tracing his cheek with the backs of my fingers.

“I love you too,” I whispered. “I think I have for a while now.”

Something in him shifted — softened, unknotted. He exhaled like he hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. And then his lips curled into a smile so bright it almost hurt.

“You mean it?”

I nodded, and his smile deepened, eyes full of hope. “I think I’ve been waiting to hear that since the moment I met you,” he murmured.

Then he kissed me — slow and deep. Not hurried or desperate, just honest. His lips on mine like he was saying it again with his mouth, his hands, his whole body:

I’m here. I’m yours. I’m trying. I love you.

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flothunderstorms · 2 days ago

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FAVOURITE BAND

𝑰𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒙 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒙 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒐’𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒎𝒂𝒏’𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅.

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Warnings: Well, I honestly don’t know? Only that Alex is petty and a sappy romantic at the same time.

Word Count: 6.5k

The sky is crying lightning.

No pun intended. Literally, the rain is pouring heavily with the sound of thunder shaking the insides of my room.

It’s gloomy. It’s dark. It’s cold. And it’s only 10 in the morning.

In the past, I never got to appreciate the weather. I never got to notice every single droplet that hits the pavement nor feel the cool breeze of air as the storm unravels.

Oh how it’s nice to finally be not on the move.

Is it really?

I shake my head to get rid of that nagging voice in my head.

That voice that seems to mock me and question every single decision I make in my life ever since I broke up with him.

He who must not be named.

Okay, the ‘him’ is Alex Turner.

He is practically everywhere. There is no way I could not known his presence nor not a day I’m not hearing his voice as their songs play on the radio every single day on every damn radio station nor see his face as it is plastered around London and is on every social media sites as their band keeps on skyrocketing its popularity in the world.

And I’m happy. Of course I’m happy. I’ll always be proud of him. But God, that was why we broke up.

It’s too much.

Or is it?

Of course it’s too much! We were always on the move. Everything is about him. I support him. I fly with him. I stayed with him. I felt bad that I never had a proper job and I’m always on tour with him and free tagging along and it felt like I’m losing myself. Albums after albums. Tour after tour. Awards after awards. I’m happy for him for getting what he finally deserves as I’ve been here since day 1, since the debut album.

But who am I? What am I to him?

I’m just known to be Alex Turner’s girlfriend. That I’m nothing but his comfort while on tour. The girl people crop out in photos and replace their faces with. Honestly, I have no grudge over that.

But then came the new Album. Their Fifth album. It was different from their previous album and I was enthralled.

But then he said:

“It’s all about you, peach,” Alex says as he rubs his nose lovingly on my cheek.

I chuckle nervously, avoiding his gaze when he places his hand on my cheek to stare directly at me. He doesn’t know all the death threats and nasty remarks I have read earlier online as I have promised him I won’t ever look at them before.

But I can’t help it. All of this just because I loved a boy?

"I wouldn't if I were yous and are you sure 'bout the tunes?" I smile uneasily.

His brows furrow and uncertainty flash around his brown eyes.

“Don’t you like it? Are they shite?”

I immediately shake my head. “No, no! God, no! Al, you’re one of the best musicians out there and I’m sure your tour ticket sales and monthly listeners speaks for it. I just, well, most of your fan base hates me so I don’t think it would be wise to let the world know you wrote these songs about me.”

His stare deepens and seriousness takes over his feature.

“I don’t care people say about me nor to us. I love you and they should get over it. Why should I hide the fact that I made these songs about my girlfriend? The love of my life? My inspiration?” He states in all seriousness.

“Good to know you call me when you’re high,” I joke, his features softening.

“Okay not all songs are about you obviously but majority, you. You’re my muse.”

We broke up with not really knowing what and how it happened.

Everything just changed. It was extra busy. It was extra heavy. It was extra suffocating. It was chill busy before, but since the new album came out, he suddenly had this different approach which I support as I know he loves to embody every song he plays and for this tour he’s some rock ‘n roll rockstar, but everything just felt different for some reason. This time it is dark. It’s more loud at the after party. It was more alcohol and at times some drugs that ensue afterwards.

It’s too messy and chaotic, and I realise I need to breathe. I need to stop. I need order.

I need to break up with him before we both bring each other on the ground with no one to lift the other and save from falling at the pits of chasm.

“And you should get a real job this is not gonna work out!” I shout from the other side of the room as I pack my things with blurred vision from tears I have been keeping at bay not to fall freely on my face.

I don’t know why I said it when in reality it should be me who should get a real job.

Alex is just standing there, confused. Honestly, I am too. I don’t know what we’re fighting about. I don’t know what the argument is at all. I don’t know why we’re screaming at each other’s face.

And we’ve been like this for weeks now.

“I'm gonna write a song, hit single, baby, something I can do to prove you wrong. This is my job. This is a real job! I love my job!” Alex hits back.

“Your job to snort cocaine off someone’s thighs at the after party of your show?” I grit my teeth in agitation.

He rolls his eyes and throws his arms in the air.

“You were there! It was a dare! You said I should go for it!” He widens his eyes as he reasons out.

“What should I even reply when everyone is staring at me expectantly to agree already and if I say no I know this will be a topic on the news that I’m your strict girlfriend that you should cut off as I’m ruining your rockstar image?!” I bite back.

“Well, you’re no fun!” Alex replies childishly.

I bite the insides of my cheek from refraining from replying anymore because I know it would be useless. He’s high and I don’t know how high he is nor if his mind is still grounded on this world. This is just a never ending cycle of conversation that all would be forgotten tomorrow day, and I sigh at that realisation.

Maybe it’s time to end the cycle.

And now I’m here all alone on a gloomy afternoon wrapped in duvet laying on my queen sized bed.

Boring.

Maybe this is what I need: Boring. Not on the move. It’s nice. No backstage. No aeroplanes. No more hotels. No champagnes. No fucking every after show and even before he goes on stage. No travelling. No discovering new places together. No being tourists in another country. No post adrenaline every after show. No parties. No clubs.

No Alex Turner.

Maybe I don’t need it. Maybe I never needed it. Maybe I am happy. Boring. Yes. Yes this is what I need.

I need common. Boring. Normal. I need normalcy. I need plain. I need not to be on the move. I need… I need Alex.

No, get it over yourself.

Just in time as if the universe is making some sick joke about me, my phone began to ring.

Oh, it’s Ben. Wow.

I accept the call and smile widely, as if he’s seeing me from the other side of the call.

“Good afternoon, love!”

His voice is lighter. His accent is that of proper stereotypical British accent.

I’m missing the deep raspy voice with a tinge of Sheffield accent.

Nope. Shut up.

“Hey, Ben! What’s up?”

“Well, just wanna ask if you have any plans tonight? You know, for a third date,” he giggles.

He giggled.

He giggled like he is hiding something mischievously from me.

I scrunch my nose and hit myself mentally for picking every move he does and start to compare it with Alex.

“No! I’m free. I have nothing to do,” I say with a hint of sarcasm to myself. Of course, you are free now. You have nothing to do now. You are boring now.

“Well, it’s settled! I’ll pick you up at 6? We’re going somewhere!” Ben announces with much enthusiasm that I feel a slight of guilt for not being able to reciprocate.

“Ooh, where to? Dress code?”

“It’s a secret! It’s my favourite place. Just wear something casual,” he once again giggles.

I bid him goodbye after agreeing and end the call.

Usually my night before would consist of backstage romance and now… this. A date with a guy who giggles and asking me out to go to his favourite place which I have no idea of just to be pecked on the lips at the end of it. Don’t get me wrong, Ben is cute. Ben is nice. Ben is super respectful. God, he was even shaking at our first kiss which was on the second date. He was sweating on the first date just to ask me if we can hold hands together. I wonder what will happen on this third date tonight.

Maybe I’ll get laid. I sure God hope so. It’s been months… I badly need to get laid.

With Ben or with Alex?

Okay I need to get up and get moving before my mind wanders off on that memory in the past. I am touch starved. I am touch deprived. I don’t want to go there because I should be moving forward.

But God do I miss him. Especially at night.

I start to get ready and eat something light. I put on my black slip dress and some tights, just in case Ben’s favourite place is outside because it’s still cold. I pull off my old trusty cheetah print coat before slipping on some boots and flicking off the lights in my room.

The doorbell rings loudly and that’s my cue to go downstairs. I opened the front door and there he is.

“You look lovely,” Ben greets, kissing my cheeks in the process. He held a bouquet of flowers in front of him and I gratefully took it. They are pink roses.

Alex used to give me tulips. I love tulips. I hate roses.

Maybe I need to start liking roses now because I can’t keep throwing all the bouquet of roses Ben keeps giving me.

“Let me just put these roses on a flower vase before we head out.”

The journey to his favourite place started. It was silent inside the car, and I felt uneasy as it’s too quiet and decided to open the radio to fill the silence. The radio started to scan for available radio channel stations and I sighed in relief as one has been found.

“And that was Little Things by One Direction! Now let’s turn the mood up this evening as this next song is ‘R U Mine? By Arctic Monkeys!”

My blood freezes cold.

The opening lyrics fills the car and I hear Ben gasps out loud.

“Holy shit! I love this song!” He says while turning his head briefly to tell me directly. He starts to sing along to the lyrics and do some air drums while I am still frozen on my seat as I am reminded how Alex’s voice sounds like.

How much do you miss him?

“Don’t you like this song?” Ben genuinely asks in concern and I finally move to look at him. I gave him a fake smile and shake my head.

“No! I don’t even know who they are,” I laugh awkwardly.

“Oh that’s perfect! I love this band! They are called Arctic Monkeys! I thought you’d at least know their frontman, he’s quite hot on the ladies,” he jokes, nudging me briefly.

I grimace at his last sentence but covered it with a slight laugh.

“So, where are you taking me?” I change the subject.

“We’re near there!”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

If it’s even possible, my blood freezes colder as I look at the sight in front of me once we have stopped and Ben parked his car.

His favourite place? I have been here many times before.

It’s an Arctic Monkeys show.

I looked around to see if there’s a camera and this is all some elaborate prank the world has played on me.

“Where are we?” I whisper ask in denial.

“We are going to an Arctic Monkeys’ concert! It’s my favourite place in the world!” Ben giggles, even clapping as he beams at me with so much joy.

Oh, no.

We got out of the car and he takes my hand. I raise my eyebrows slightly at his courage and feel a strap being slid on my wrist. I look at the familiar “VIP” wristband. Not the usual wristband I had before as that was an all access one.

“VIP, huh?” I say in amusement.

“Nothing but the best! They are amazing!” Ben continues to praise the band.

Oh, Ben.

I’m well aware about how my outfit fits in on our whereabouts and I facepalmed myself mentally when I realise I have worn my trusty cheetah print coat. And a slip dress. And my alligator skin boots.

I smile at the sky and narrow my eyes knowingly at whoever deity is up there.

We got past security quickly and oh, the familiar faces of security here that I have to bow my head to not be recognised. Some fans are even looking at my direction and I hope and pray to God no one ever says a thing.

I just want to have a peaceful date with my new man and possibly to get laid… hopefully.

“Let’s try to get near the barricade!” My new man gushes beside me as he grabs my hand and weaves our way towards the front.

Oh, fuck.

We are two rows behind the barricade. Center. Dead middle. Right in front of where I know is Alex’s mic stand.

And then the lights went off.

The scream amplifies as spotlight suddenly hit the stage. One by one, the band members walk out while waving at the crowd. My heart is beating out loud and seems that it wants to get out of my chest and I instinctively wrap an arm on Ben’s bicep for stability. I spotted Nick getting closer at the left side of the stage and our eyes meet. His eyes widen as big as mine probably and soon his lips turn upward into a big smile, waving at me excitedly.

“For Alex?” Nick mouths at me before breaking his eye contact with me and noticing that I am with someone. His smile turns into a frown as he pointedly looks at me.

“He’s a fan,” I mouth back, hoping he can understand my response. Nick didn’t get to respond when the scream of the crowd amplifies and I know who just walked on stage.

There he is. Wearing a black shirt and a jean jacket, his gelled hair is now sporting the quiff. Handsome strong jawline, his cheeks sporting a natural blush, and his pink lips is holding a lit cigarette in captive. He adjusts his guitar strap on his shoulder as he scans the crowd, his red guitar resting on his abdomen. As if just like the old times, his eyes gravitated towards mine and for the first time in months and since that night that we broke up, our gaze connected.

Oh, Lord.

Those warm brown eyes that have light up my darkest days. The same eyes that have gazed longingly at me, that assured me that it will be alright as I go through my worst fears, that cried with me on a sappy movie, that held me captive as I moan his name like a prayer.

The eyes of the man who is my first love and whom I have shared most of my first with.

And like Nick, his eyes widen in shock subtly. Alex’s lips start to open but his stare went to the person beside me and his face forms into a scowl immediately. He took a long drag of his cigarette as he moves forward to his mic stand, now avoiding my gaze.

“Oh my God, I think Alex Turner just looked at me!”

I got brought back to my reality as Ben, who I am with now, says excitedly at my ear.

Oh, boy.

This will be a long night.

The show started. There is nothing much more where I could look at except at him. I have looked at the ceiling. At the security in front. At the heads in front of me as they bop along to the song. At Ben who is grinning like a Cheshire Cat unaware of the daggers the frontman is sending him. God, I’m not your strongest soldier. I could feel his gaze on me at every lyric he sings, and there are times I know he’s purposely accentuating some words which I know he wrote about me.

And now is the song I dread the most of the night.

“This song is about a girl called Arabella! She is right here in the crowd tonight.”

Oh, Alex.

Everyone person screaming and claiming that they are Arabella.

“You know, you kinda dress like Arabella!” Ben says in my ear, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me further on his side. I stumble and place a hand on his chest, my head turning at the front as it clashes with his shoulder, making me inadvertently look in front of me, which I have connected my stare with at my rockstar ex-boyfriend.

“Oh that boy’s a slag,” Alex scowls at me, singing a bit a part of one of his songs before he starts this one.

Alex never broke his stare at me as he sang the song word for word. Neither did I break our gaze as I can’t even dare to look away.

Just might've tapped into your mind and soul

You can't be sure

(That’s magic) in a cheetah print coat

(Just a slip) underneath it, I hope

(Askin' if) I can have one of those

(Organic) cigarettes that she smokes

(Wraps her lips) 'round a Mexican Coke

(Makes you wish) that you were the bottle

(Takes a sip) of your soul, and it sounds like

Just might've tapped into your mind and soul

You can't be sure

And that’s the end of the night.

I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that song was their closing one. Everybody in the arena clapped and cheered loudly as the show came to an end. The band gathers in the middle and took a bow, blowing kisses to the fans cheering them on. Whistles and screams echoed in the room, with some yells of “one more song”, as usual, filled the air.

“You think you can handle one more?”

Oh the way everyone’s voices multiplied and the crowd started to become alive again when the frontman walked back to his microphone stand. My eyes furrow together in confusion as he never does this before.

Alex’s eyes gazes into mine but now his lips are etched into a teasing smirk.

“What are you up to, Alexander,” I mouthed-whisper, narrowing my eyes at him.

But his smirk just widened and God damn, I know that look all too well.

He’s up to no good.

“Okay since you guys have been the best crowd so far on this tour, this one is a new song, unreleased yet. Made it the other day and finished it right now, ‘cause I just found the right inspiration,” Alex pointed at the crowd, specifically at me, and I choked on my own breath.

I really hope it’s not what I think it is, that this song would be about me.

My heart rapidly beats out of my chest and I feel like I’m going to throw up from being anxious. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. It’s just a new song, by my ex-boyfriend. Not all songs are about me.

He must really just be messing with me. This is just torture. He’s just playing a game. This is a classic Alex move.

The thoughts in my mind are racing a million miles per minute. I honestly am getting dizzy because I don’t even know what to think.

This is a mistake. Coming here. Maybe going out with Ben in the first place is a mistake because it’s clear I haven’t moved on from him because Alex has still had this great effect on me after all these months I have convinced myself that I have gotten over him.

I shake my head to try and clear my head and stop myself from spiralling down on dizziness.

“God, you’re so lucky! From all the Arctic Monkeys’ shows I’ve been to, this is the only time they are doing this!” The man beside me gushes, squeezing my shoulders in excitement.

I honestly could just cry now.

“Oh, Ben,” I say in return, biting my lip to contain myself from all these emotions I am having right now.

And the lights went dim once more.

A single spotlight is trained on the frontman of the band, with his cherry red electric guitar strapped on his shoulder. A joyful foreign melody starts to play, and maybe, maybe this will be a happy song.

Alex straightly looks at me, a serious expression now sporting on his handsome features.

I hope he plays us in the car

With your feet up on the dash, yeah

I'd like that, yeah

Oh, no…

“I hope he fucking breaks your heart… I’m just kidding,” he sings while he gives me an innocent puppy look but his mouth curved into a smirk.

“No I’m not,” he continues and shakes his head.

This damn bastard.

I'm over, "I wouldn't if I were yous

And are you sure 'bout the tunes?"

Ooh-ooh-ooh

"And you should get a real job

This is not gonna work out"

Oh my God.

Those were my words to him before… I feel like I just have been stabbed, the guilt flowing freely from the fresh open wounds that these words have created.

I'm gonna write a song, hit single, baby

Something I can do to prove you wrong

Drive you crazy when it's sitting there at Number 1

You never cared for karma, now you understand (Understand)

I'm in your new boy's favourite band

Okay, now this song is about us.

I looked to my left and saw Ben swaying his head along to the music, completely unaware of the emotional turmoil brewing in my chest down to my stomach.

The guilt doubled. Ben does not deserve someone like me. He deserves a far better girl than me. Not this girl who’s still hung up on his ex, the ex who’s in Ben’s favourite band.

So, when you see me on TV

And he's singing all the words, oh

I hope it hurts, yeah

But, you won't say a singlе thing

'Cause he treats you likе dirt, that seems to work

Oh fuck off, Turner.

Would you curse my name?

Would you start a fight?

If my lyrics started playing in your bar tonight?

In the pouring rain, would you stand outside?

After closing time?

That bridge just hits too close too home. I freeze, standing and still locking eyes with Alex, the guilt sitting heavily on my stomach. It seems like I am not the only one who was affected after he sang those lines, even him, he was standing and not moving after saying those lyrics.

The cheers and screams of people sounds distant, seems not to reach my ears and not to register on my brain that I am in a room full of people, probably half who knew I had dated that man on stage. It seems like it was just me and Alex, standing in front of one another, completely lost for words.

He seems like he was snapped out from his train of thoughts as he clears his throat and starts to continue to sing, to finish his song.

I'm gonna write a song, hit single, baby

Something I can do to prove you wrong

Drive you crazy when I'm sitting there at Number 1

You never cared for karma, now you understand (Understand)

I'm in your new boy's favourite band

I cannot hear this any further.

“I-I need to go, Ben,” I hurriedly stammer out to the man I came here with, not even bothering to wait for his reply before I push myself out of the crowd.

Hisses and complaints ensued and all I could do was to utter a quick apology as I made my way out. I see myself out of the arena, my legs moving automatically as it knows its way where to go. However, as I pushed the door that would lead me outside of the arena, I forgot it wasn’t like what it used to be where I will be met with privacy of the backstage, but instead I am met with fans who are waiting outside in front of the arena.

Multiple sets of eyes are trained on me and I suddenly felt the blush creeping up from my neck to settle its way on my cheeks as looks of familiarity start to blossom on their face to being fully aware of who I am.

“Oh my God, is she back with Alex Turner?”

I slammed the door shut and went back inside the arena. My heart starts to race and that creeping feeling of anxiety and self-doubt starts to cloud my heart and mind the way it used to before. It wasn’t as bad as it was before, as maybe I have loved myself more and learned more how to not care about the opinion of others, but the judging stares that I have seen just resurfaced some emotions I have suppressed from before.

I now try to make my way to the familiar direction backstage, a little bit shocked that security personnel were not stopping me despite not having an all access pass, but they just nod in my direction as they let me enter and make myself out of this arena using the other exit.

Finally I saw the exit and sighed a relief, pushing it and I am met with some water droplets from the sky. There are no fans in this exit, only some staff I recognized as they begin to pack up the venue. However, a familiar voice from a distance starts yelling my name, in full volume, making me stop in my tracks.

“For Christ sake, I know you like me chasing you, but peach, we are getting old, my knees hurt. Please stop!”

I whip my head to the direction of the voice and witness Alex in front of me, catching his breath as if he ran a marathon. Droplets of sweat falling from his forehead to his already sweaty clothes he wore on stage.

“What are you doing here,” I whisper in disbelief.

“This is me chasing you and hoping to start a fight and then we make up,” he says proudly, smiling cheekily as if we have not broken up months ago and this is our first ever interaction since that night.

Him acting nonchalantly ignites anger sleeping dormantly deep within my bones and I did not even realise my hands started to raise and hit him squarely on his chest, in which he did not even move the slightest.

Alex’s pink lips stays into an amused smile, watching me push him while sending daggers with my eyes.

“What the fuck is that song all about?!”

“I think it’s pretty self-explanatory, no?” He teases, infuriating me even more.

“My new boy’s favourite band? Really? And our conversation as your lyrics?! Are these all a joke to you!!” I yell loud enough to have my voice heard as the water droplets from the sky turn into thunderstorms.

Alex had enough and gently held my wrist firmly, stopping me from my weak attempts to push him or hit him on his chest. He brought one of my hands in front of his face, kissing the inside of my wrist tenderly, and I melted into his touch and action.

I forgot what I was even angry about.

“I mean you’re new boy looks nice, a bit boring, and I’m sure that’s not your type,” Alex starts the conversation once more and we are back to the infuriating feeling.

I pull away my hands from his touch and scowl at him. I turned my back on him and proceeded to go outside, the pouring rain instantly wetting my coat and my face. I start to walk and disregard Alex’s voice calling out my name.

“Oh come on, love, stop! You’ll get sick! Let’s go inside!” He catches me from behind, holding my arm and stopping me from walking away, but I just wriggle out from his hold and continue to walk forward, not even knowing where I was even going.

“He’s a nice man!” I say, finally stopping and facing him.

He raises his eyebrows at me and a look of ‘agree to disagree’ sports his face. “Yeah, sure. Is he good in bed too?”

I became silent at his question and I looked away from his gaze. My silence is a dead giveaway already.

“You two haven’t? Oh? Oh,” Alex smiles contently, nodding his head in satisfaction. His reaction just brewed annoyance inside of me.

“We are getting there! Getting to know each other. First part of the dating stage!”

“If it makes you feel better, I haven’t had any sex since we broke up too, peach. However, you’re getting to know him on my show? Your ex’s concert?” He smiles in a playful way.

God, he looks so damn beautiful right now, the rain hitting him, droplets of water falling in his face and landing on his cheeks, his hair getting messy and flopping on his forehead, but I wish I could wipe that smirk off his face.

“I didn’t know he’s a fan of yours!” I hissed in response.

From the distance, a figure starts to run forward, and the voice follows by calling out my name. Alex’s expression turned into a frown as he rolls his eyes at the person approaching behind him.

“Hey you okay? I’ve been looking for you everywhere and security actually led me here. Can’t believe I’m even allowed to be here! Feels like any moment I’ll run with any members of the band!” Ben jumps excitedly as soon as he reaches me, not even aware of the man scowling at him on his side.

“Ben, I—”

“Mate, sorry, but we’re having a conversation here.

Ben’s head whipped as fast as it could be and I saw how his eyes widened, the colour on his face leaving him pale as a ghost and a gasp broke out from the back of his throat. Confusion starts to kick in, as he starts to look between me and Alex, back and forth, trying to connect the dots on why his date is together in the pouring rain with the band member of his favourite band.

As if the light bulb had turned on, his eyes widened in realisation.

“Oh! So the douchebag ex is him,” Ben says, whispering the last word as if not wanting to let the person know we are talking about him.

The him crosses his arm in his chest, glaring at me with amusement painted as his expression, and leaning on one foot making his hip pop towards me in a sassy way.

“A douchebag huh?” Alex continues, still amused.

“Oh oh her words man! I mean, well, I know you’re not a douchebag, you’re a cool one! I’m a big fan of yours!” Ben stutters out, explaning himself that I mentally facepalmed myself.

Can somebody please get me out of here?

“Ben, I��m sorry, but can we talk later?” I say in resignation, just wanting for him to leave so me and Al’s conversation can be done.

Like a good puppy, he nods enthusiastically and without a word, run off from where he came from.

“Oh, he’s boring nice,” the man in front of me comments as soon as the other person was not within our earshot.

“Alex, honestly, I don’t even know what we’re talking about here.”

”I’m sorry.”

He takes one step forward, effectively closing our distance. I look up to see his face, inches away from mine, seriousness taking over his features. The rain has only intensified, instead of chilling and freezing me to the bones, all I could feel is Alex’s warm spurts of breathe fanning my face, and his touch on my arms shooting up electricity on my whole body and jumpstarting my heart to race rapidly.

I missed this. I missed him. I missed us.

“What are you even sorry about?”

“Everything. Just come back to me, please. Come back to me, baby, I know we both know we truly belong to one another. It’s us and it will always be us. Please, tell me you don’t love me anymore as much as I am hopelessly and deeply in love with you, and don’t lie to yourself,” He says lowly, yet I heard all the words clearly despite the thunderstorms breaking in the sky. He held me tightly, his arms snaking on my waist to pull me on his chest, his body warmth negating the cold water pouring from the sky, as we cheesily do this conversation as if we are in some romcom, that all will be well after this.

But this is real life, and life is not a romcom movie.

“Alex, we’re never gonna work out. This is never gonna work out,” I start to insist he starts to open his mouth to rebut, but I continue to speak to shush him.

“It’s not you, it’s me. You deserve someone better, who could better support you, and all I have done the past months before we broke up is make you feel like shit, and that’s not what a partner should be. I should be the one apologising because all I ever wanna say is how proud I am of you and all the success you’re getting, but I’m scared I can’t live up to it, to what you need and what you like, because you’re all this and you could have any person in the world, and—”

“God, just MARRY ME!”

That effectively silenced me, if that’s what Alex is going for.

My mouth hung open as I look up at him, blinking as if that would have it rewind what he just said seconds ago. I didn’t say anything and waited for him to either repeat what Al just said or to retract it.

Alex just scans my face for any indication about my expression to his question. His hands went upwards and now hold my cheeks, his thumbs caressing the apples of my cheeks as he holds my face so I will not be able to look away and focus on him only.

“Just please, marry me. Fuck this, I’ll leave everything just say yes,” Alex once again asks, in all seriousness.

“But Al, I—”

“Do you love me?” He cuts me off.

“Al you know—”

“Just yes or no, baby.”

“Yes, I love you,” I say in all honesty and sincerity. That made Alex’s brown eyes soften, his hold on my face tightening securely.

“I love you too, peach. It has always been you. Okay now, have you ever considered marrying me. Do you want to marry me?” He says softly, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on my forehead.

I swallow my anxiety and the creeping negative thoughts and just went to the flow of my feelings for this man. “I do, but—”

I was silenced once more when Alex shuts me from starting to ramble by pulling me in for a kiss. My lip moves automatically with him, his familiar taste suddenly invading my senses, warmth surging within me. A quiet gasp broke from my lips as he bites my lower lip lightly, his tongue making its way to mine, just like the old times. My body molds with him, our shared breaths syncing, and all of this while we are being continuously drenched by the rain.

“No, ‘buts’, peach. Just you and me. Don’t think about the others nor anything else, ‘cause they don’t matter, yeah? Just you and me,” he says reassuringly as he pulls away slightly to catch our breaths, standing firmly in front of me.

“Just you and me,” I repeat, nodding along with him, and not even knowing what he is saying as I was completely wiped off from a single kiss.

“That is settled. We’re getting married,” Alex says, nodding more, a beautiful smile blossoming on his pink lips as he realised the effect he has on me by that just one kiss.

“We are getting married,” I repeated to him once more.

“Oh fuck, you’re going to be my wife,” Alex says in realisation, both of us calming down and finally realising what just transpired.

“I’m your wife?” I say confusedly, a little bit dizzy of how our conversation went from arguing to this.

“Technically what people will say is you are my Fiancée, but I don't care, you’re my wife. My love. My soulmate,” he says cheekily, wrapping an arm on my shoulder by now.

“Oh please, so cheesy, Alexander,” I playfully roll my eyes as he leads us back to the arena.

“I’m your cheesy husband then,” he counters, squeezing my shoulders.

A comfortable silence settled between us as all that could be heard is our rapid heart beats and the soft pitter patter of the rain on the ground. I lay my head on Alex’s shoulder, looked up at the sky, and smiled at whoever deity is up there for finally answering my prayer.

Finally, at home at last.

─────────────────────────

This is honestly not one of my best works (apologies), as this was really rushed. No concrete solid plot as well. I wrote this for shits and giggles, because I can’t stop listening to this song and when I listen to a song, my mind just creates these scenarios and I just need this scene to get out of my head.

And Happy Pride to everyone! Love always wins 🌈.

Here is the song at bar:

29 notes · View notes

squidsinashirt · 3 days ago

Note

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

The derisive little snort of a huff of laughter at her suggestion of emotions being messy was unfair, Gordon knew it the moment it had left him.

Because Penelope wasn’t some kind of heartless, cold statue carved from high expectations and poise. She was warm and perfectly kind and thoughtful and generally lovely, and how easy it would be to talk to her. So easy he had written that scene in his head countless times over, and that same pang of longing washed over him at the thought of, once again, how different this could all be. How simple it would be to curl up with her in the quiet at the end of a long day, to spill every little secret and feel better about everything because he had little doubt that that was exactly what she was capable of.

But that was not reality.

No, reality was the change in his dance partner as something shifted in her mind, and suddenly he was on the pointy end of a sharper question that made his brain freeze. Why had he come? Well, if that wasn’t the million dollar question of the evening.

“No, Scott didn’t want me to come. He saw the invite for what it was and was already mid-decline when I got to him. I pestered him into letting me come.”

The admission was met with loud protesting from inner Gordon, placards and all, but no sensible man lied to Penelope Creighton-Ward. Especially not about something so easily uncovered.

“I came because… well. Guess I couldn’t pass up the chance to see our host for myself, given the opportunity. And I… couldn’t think of you being here all alone. Stupid as that sounds,” he chuckled humourlessly, brittle. “I know this is your thing. You don’t need me hovering like backup.”

A beat passed, and he glanced down - not at her face, but somewhere near her shoulder, as the flicker of a frown wrote itself across his face.

“But I sent you into this and I’d never have forgiven myself if…”

If something happened, and I should’ve been here after sending you off on this hunt. If I missed the chance to prove your trust in me, to be here when you really needed someone, all because of some stupid angry words that I really didn’t mean and you-

Leave it, Gordon. Be sensible. Do you really need her to make it any more plain? It’s only going to hurt more.

Gordon, instead, swallowed the last of the sentence, throat bobbing with the effort. The half-mask he wore still clung to his face, and for the first time he was grateful for it; hiding the heat rising in his cheeks, the quiet crack forming behind his front.

His fingers flexed gently against the curve of her back, grounding him in the present. The music played on around them, a slow lull behind the tension in his chest, and still they danced. Still she fitted to the curve of his arm as if she had always planned to bd there, and bright blue eyes followed his every move, waiting for something clever to come from him, no doubt.

Only that he had none to give her - because she deserved the truth, in one form or another.

At least, that’s what his stupid big heart told him, and it was beyond foolish, repeating the same action and expecting different results, but she was looking at him and-

“Penny, I…” Gordon started, then faltered.

His mind halted just long enough for the truth to creep through, and his unrelenting tendency to be honest when it came to one blonde aristocrat, too honest, to continually, happily, hold out his heart in one hand while he spoke, was still charging ahead. He was already past the point of retreat and unsure even what answer he wanted - he just knew he needed her to hear him say it.

Why had he come?

“I came because I wanted to see you. To apologise.”

Another step together. Another breath. He risked a glance at her, to those unreadable eyes watching him, and it undid him a little.

“Y’know, after… everything. I’ve missed you.”

And that was it. That was the line he drew in the sand. Not a plea, not an apology. Just honest and small and real in a way that stripped him bare, for better or for worse.

:COMMS BEGIN:

Lady P,

Sorry for the early morning comms, hope this doesn’t wake you too early - I make it just after 5 your time.

We’re just finishing up a mission in the Persian Gulf - a luxury hotel collapsed overnight, on an island just offshore Doha. Only built two years ago, whole place is pretty new and shiny.

Been a rough night, Pen - fifteen we were too late to help, including two kids. Just families on vacation...

Anyway, victims are saying they felt tremors, it certainly looks like a quake from the debris now the sun is up and J is absolutely confident it came from beneath the sea bed (absolutely being a rather irritated direct quote, so I’m not asking again).

But… this isn’t a quake hot zone. It doesn’t make any sense, and there haven’t been any aftershocks either while we’ve been working. Five can’t get a good read because of the debris and mineral interference underground. The whole place is on top of the enormous old oil fields, and it sends the scanners haywire.

The company that owns the hotel has set my squid sense off though. Name’s Fulcra, I’ve sent you the profile on them. Ran by a guy named Randall Price. He’s a venture capitalist from Houston originally, but the company’s HQ is a London address. That’s as far as I’ve managed to get.

They own a couple of the small artificial islands around here that are being used as tourist hotspots. Think luxury waterfront villas on stilts kinda stuff, the hotel that’s collapsed was the biggest. Nice place, high end, lots of good dive spots.

This area’s all under a World Heritage protected marine environment permit for a biosphere reserve. They’ve spent decades trying to replenish the mangroves and coastal vegetation after what the oil fields and production did to the waters here, the aquatic populations are only just starting to rise comfortably. I didn’t understand how they even got permission for this sort of work but…

They’ve got a giant platform further out in the Gulf that’s supposedly ‘cleaning the sea’ and helping to replenish the sea bed. Seems to be some sort of agreement that they can build these resorts, in exchange for what appears to be green work. I tried to get a proper look at the platform in Four, out of interest, but they’ve got laser nets up. I got an autoturret my way for trying to go any further in the exosuit…

I’d like to think they’re just really protecting that biosphere, but I don’t get a nice eco-friend impression.

My gut says I’m getting Hydrexler vibes, and you were right about that oily CEO last time. I’m not sure I want to be right, but I do want to know what’s going on here… and I thought you might too, as our resident top agent with a passion for all things Earth-saving.

So, I thought I’d hand it over to you, and let you do what you do best - cosying up to the billionaires and getting them to spill the tea.

Lemme know if you know or find anything on them. We’re going to be here another couple of hours, finishing up stabilising the debris field and having another run through, and then heading back. S managed to get the Price guy on comms briefly, but he wasn’t much for talking. Maybe you’ll have more luck.

G 🦑

:COMMS END:

FIRST DATE?

The flickering light and the soft buzz from her compact device caught her off-guard. Penelope, who had positioned herself in an armchair beside her tall windows after giving up on sleep half an hour earlier, sat herself up a little straighter. The blanket which she’d wrapped around herself was pulled tighter to her frame as her eyes read the message.

The hour might have been earlier and, on any other day, Penelope might very well have still been sleeping, but today was different. She rubbed her tired eyes as they scanned Gordon’s words. At first, she’d hoped it had been something akin to a social call. She rather enjoyed those, especially when they came from Gordon, but the more she read, the more Penelope realised it was anything but that.

Her interest peaked as she reached Gordon’s conspiracy.

Her mouth grew dry when she reached Gordon’s information.

The blanket was thrown off her body and Penelope stood. With her comms device still in hand, her eyes still darting from left to right as she continued her reading, she crossed her bedroom and gently tugged on the bell.

Minutes passed before a very sleepy Parker knocked on her bedroom door. Penelope, having only just finished Gordon’s message, opened it.

“Terribly sorry to wake you, Parker, but it seems we have a situation. I need you to cancel my schedule for today and then get me all we have on the company known as Fulcra. CEO is a man named Randall Price.”

“But, m’lady, that’s—”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, thank you, Parker. See if you can arrange a meeting of some kind, if that’s at all possible.”

Parker nodded, still more asleep than he was awake, before he trundled off down the hallway to make good of his ladyship’s requests.

Penelope returned to chair by the window and curled herself back up. The sun was just beginning to rise on the horizon as she typed out her reply.

COMMS BEGIN

@squidsinashirt, Thank you for your concern — I shall look into this and get back to you when I

Penelope ceased her typing and sighed. She knew it wasn’t fair to lie to him, not after her sent her looking. A moment or two passed before Penelope deleted her previous sentence and began to re-type it.

COMMS BEGIN

Gordon,

This company?

I shall look into this as you requested but, I must warn you, you may not like what I find. Randall Price is… let us say a man I am already familiar with, or rather his business is. What I can tell you is that, for the most part, Fulcra is celebrated as a rather clean company, but that doesn’t always mean much — you were right to mention Hydrexler. The Persian Gulf was supposed to remain a protected marine environment, at least that was how I understood it. I’ll ask some of my World Heritage connections what they know too, see if I can get a bigger picture for you.

Give me a couple of days. I’ll try and, what was it you said? Cosy up to the billionaire? Get him to spill the tea? Parker is going to try and get me an appointment but, if that fails, I do have an alternative plan.

Do try and get some rest once you’ve finished up. The mission in Doha sounds like it’s been a terribly distressing situation for all involved. You know I am always here if you need to talk about it. Any of it.

I’ll be in touch once I hear something.

Stay safe,

Penny x

COMMS END

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

Once upon a time, names held weight. Penelope had thought that Scott’s name had simply been too tied up with International Rescue for Randall Price to give him the time of day… until she too was ushered away once the more difficult questions were asked. From her other sources, Penelope had heard only rave reviews of the company. Yet something felt… off.

It was just after dinner when Penelope began her second message to Gordon.

COMMS BEGIN

It's too clean. Not sure what’s going on but I definitely sense something. Plan B is in operation. Randall Price might not have wanted to speak to me today, but he did invite me to his Charity Ball this weekend — I’ll see if I can find out more then.

I’m hoping you returned home safe and sound and that you managed to have a good rest. I suppose it’s my turn to apologise if this message wakes you.

Penny x

COMMS END

#first date? rp #thunderbirds rp #ooc: ... yes 😏#ooc// the better the angst 🤌🏻🤌🏻#ooc// the better one idiot fish gets shot down #penny answers #gordons squid thoughts

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butdaddyiloveh3r · 2 days ago

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Here's a little funny story: if you asked me two days ago about gaylor, I would have probably shrugged and said "gay conspiracies exist for every celeb and most of them are dumb"

Now though, I'm two days deep in this rabbit hole and fuck fuck fuck I need a reverse button... I don't think I can get out. I was just looking for lyrics analysis because a few lines in some of the anthology songs I couldn't understand. I somehow found myself in this corner of the internet. I started with chuckling and being like "I don't think so" after every two sentences I read but then things started making sense :)

I remember opening a reddit post that started with a warning that if you proceed, there's no going back. Once you started seeing it, you can't unsee it. I thought: I don't think so, pal! Well, jokes on me. I don't know what happened but I'm too deep to go back. I'm seeing stuff I can't not see.

What do you mean she's been THIS LOUD all this time and I was what, fuckin blind? Literally sapphic here but somehow i convinced myself everything I saw during lover era album release was some weird allyship. (Thanks for that megaslide btw, seeing it all in one place is sure a different experience. I stopped at a couple of the slides with eyes going wide thinking "how tf did I miss this before???"). I literally told my friend "it's so interesting that taylor hangs out with so many queer women" and then proceed not to see anything out of hetero usual! Anyway, I might have actually lost my mind and residing permanently in delulu land but I literally can't look at her songs the way I used to before. I don't expect a coming out but this is my new reality now 😂 what a start to june

I used to think she would have made a great lesbian with the way she writes full of yearning, that hasn't changed. Frankly, I don't care about her sexuality, I enjoy her songs regardless. But now I have a new possible perspective that adds to what I already enjoyed

Sorry for the random rant. I didn't know where to express my newly acquired astonishment and I'm not comfortable using my account for this yet. I'm afraid of getting crucified by other swifties😅 thanks for being part of opening-my-eyes experience 🧡🩷

OMG welcome!!! this is so exciting for you!! and thank you for the appreciation of my slides, its much appreciated. That was the intention for the slides too open more minds. Its definetly a once you notice all the loud flagging and lyrics with queer tones and subtext you can't unotice it!! And if you have any questions about anything please don't hesitate to reach out (i'm like a gaylor library), also I'm an open book. Have fun going down the rabbit hole!!

#gaylor #lgbetty #friends of dorothea #taylor swift #kaylor #swiftgron #gaylor swift #lesbian #bisexaul #performanceartlor #the tortured poets department

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feedthepheasants · 1 day ago

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as i near the end of my long-fic, begged & borrowed time, i have a lot of complex feelings...

i began this fic in june 2024. it was the first fic i had written in years, and i was trying new things while coping with many personal difficulties in my life. while it was all very nerve-wracking, i enjoyed narrating the story of bg3 from my very first tav's perspective! i don't want to process what it's going to feel like to finish this fic and ~kind of~ say goodbye to her, but the time is nigh as i am three chapters and a little less than 8,000 words away from the end. to say it's bittersweet for this story to be so close to completion is an understatement.

i am hoping to close it out in a way that feels satisfying for the stories and hc's my mind conjures for my sweet little druid and our wonderful wizard, but also for myself. as i do so, i want to share some of the moments (likely out of chronological order) from my fic that i either really enjoyed writing, bawled my eyes out about, cheered myself up with, or were very personal to me - and this post here will be the first.

the following excerpt is from chapter 26, entitled "eternity." set in the act 3 boat scene with gale, discussing godhood.

Something knots in my stomach. “Is that what this is about?” I ask him. “Losing my power can’t define me forever,” I say. “And I would never accept the corruption of your soul as fair payment to wield magic again.”

“It won’t,” Gale argues. “I swear to you, it will not corrupt me - especially with you by my side. It’s just a tool. A means to an end; think of the good we could do for the world.”

“I don’t doubt your motivations, but Gale, this is lunacy,” I reply, praying that he will heed any semblance of reason. We’re both quiet for a long time, and I wonder if he’s already started down a path I can’t bring him back from.

“We could have an eternity together,” Gale finally says, looking anywhere but at me.

It hasn’t occurred to me until this moment, when the words hang in the air between us and my eyes trace the tragically rounded curve of Gale’s ears, that there is a disparity between our existence in this world. I feel guilty that I haven’t thought about it until now. It’s clear that this has weighed on Gale for some time. Shame burns from my cheekbones all the way to the pointed tips of my ears.

“Time is different for you, I know,” Gale continues quietly when I say nothing. “But whether I should die tomorrow or live another thirty years or more, my time is running out.”

If Gale remains human, there’s no telling how much time we’d get to share with one another if we survive the approaching storm. If Gale remains human, there would come a time where we would have to say goodbye.

If Gale remains human, I would have to one day watch him die.

Gale rests his elbows on his knees and reaches for my hands, holding them snug in his own. I’m grateful that he doesn’t look at me, instead keeping his eyes on our hands. “Tell me you want what I want,” he whispers.

We both know the choice is Gale’s to make in the end, just as it’s mine to choose whether to follow him. I don’t want to lose him – not to the Absolute, not to the orb, not to godhood, not to his inevitable death – but I can’t deny that the consequence of this imbalance would be too much. I may no longer hear Silvanus’ words woven within the breeze or birdsong, but I have a duty to protect and uphold the balance of all things.

If we were meant to spend eternity together, the gods would have made it so.

“I love you, Gale,” I tell him, placing a hand on his cheek. We’re finally eye to eye. “I love you for the man that you are, right here, right now.” The crack in my heart deepens as I speak. “Eternity was never meant for us.”

taglist:

@dr-demi-bee @ladyofcrowsandcoffee @lanafofana

@marlowethebard @crimson-and-lavender @spooky-lil-bee

@12thhouse-sun @waterdeep-weavemoss @amorgansgal

@femmefuck @caughtnyact @further-than-forever

p.s. if you're not on my taglist and would like to be, let me know! alternatively.. if you are on my taglist and no longer wish to be, send me a message and i'll update it! <3

#feedthepheasants #gale dekarios #baldurs gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #bg3 fanfiction #gale fanfic #gale x oc #gale bg3 fanfiction #begged and borrowed time

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writer-shipper-ffreader · 2 days ago

Text

Maybe not so useless after all?

(Kate Lethbridge-Stewart x f!Reader)

Chapter 6

Previous Chapter |

A/N: This chapter was a lot harder than expected and also went off in a different direction as expected. Hopefully it is still enjoyable :) More mentions of Torchwood - may be slightly inaccurate as it's been a while!

Warnings/Tags: Slow burn, soulmate AU (sort of), yearning, I just want to bang their heads together, aliens, swearing, angst.

Words: 5,034

Summary: After a mysterious mishap with a device found in a field, can you find out what the device is and what it means for you and Kate?

The next few days had passed by in a blur. You were still staying late at the office to keep an eye on Kate, both to ensure she didn’t work too late but in hopes her leaving aligned with your time tattoo. Although you were keeping watch, you now did so from afar.

You’d been right about the rumours spreading around the tower; whispers had been following you as soon as you stepped foot in the building the next day. You had heard the theories that you and Kate were dating, the murmurs of disgust and disapproving looks. You’d expected most of it, although you would have thought UNIT employees would be more open minded. What you hadn’t expected was the teasing from Carter when he returned from Geneva.

“You and Stewart left together a few nights ago?” Carter immediately pounced as you entered your lab.

“What?” you asked, unprepared for anybody else to be there.

“Everyone is talking about how you and Kate left together the other night,” Osgood explained timidly, looking as though Josh had dragged her to be present for the conversation. “Everyone thinks you’re dating. Josh overheard the rumours.”

“Oh, that. I know, they aren’t exactly subtle discussing it,” you groaned. “She walked me home, but that’s not the point. Did no one mention what time we left?”

“Brian said it was around half ten,” Carter stated blandly, not seeing how it was relevant.

“Exactly! That’s progress compared to after midnight the week before,” you highlighted to the soldier. He was unaware that you and Osgood had discussed your concerns for Kate, and this had been your plan of action. Although the rumours had made things slightly awkward between the pair of you and you were currently avoiding her.

“So, you’re dating the boss to stop her staying late?” Carter joked.

Kate froze just outside your lab, not expecting to hear that. She’d been on her way to check on you, noticing your current absence around her and wanting to fix it. On the rare occasion she had seen you in the last three days, you had looked exhausted and acted on edge around her. Kate had heard some of the rumours but brushed them off as people liking to gossip.

She decided not to interrupt, moving to lean against the wall instead. She unlocked her tablet so to anyone walking by it looked like she had just gotten distracted by something work related, rather than spying on you.

“I’m not dating Kate, don’t be silly. She’d never want to date me!” You rolled your eyes at the pair, not fully taking in how you’d just phrased that sentence.

“That almost sounded like you want to date her,” Carter suggested, with a knowing smirk.

“I, uh, I—it’s not as simple as that,” you stuttered and gestured around you, before unconsciously dropping your hand to rub at your wrist.

“You shouldn’t listen to what a few people are saying, they are just being mean,” Osgood said, moving to pat your arm in comfort.

“What are they saying?” Carter coaxed, softening his voice, concern for his friend taking over from the teasing.

“I’ve heard that I’m sleeping with her because I was desperate for that promotion, I have mommy issues or my personal favourite—I’m sleeping with her to make up for my incompetence from getting myself blown up in the field,” you ground out, pacing behind your desk.

“What the fuck? That wasn’t even your fault, and you saved like at least ten people!” Carter protested on your behalf.

“Mommy issues? No wonder you’re avoiding her,” Osgood muttered.

“It’s not even that big of an age gap! Wait, how do you know I’ve been avoiding her?” you asked, raising an eyebrow towards the older scientist.

“She pulled me aside yesterday to see if I knew why you were avoiding her.” Osgood looked at the floor guiltily as you groaned.

Kate’s shock quickly gave way to a wave of anger flooding her at what she had just heard. She hadn’t overheard some of the worst things people were saying, so had thought little of the rumours. Clearly her staff knew not to say anything anywhere she could potentially hear it. She had no idea you were having to listen to things as bad as this. Her first instinct was to send out a staff wide email, but she knew that would only make things worse.

She quietly crept down the hall outside your lab, not wanting to alert the three of you to her presence. Once a safe distance away, she strode back to her office, possible solutions whirring through her mind. The only thing she knew for certain was that she needed to speak to you.

You had no idea Kate had been in the corridor, too absorbed in the current mess you had caused to notice the sound of heels clicking that you were usually attuned to. After admitting your feelings for Kate to the pair, it had also slipped out that you were suspicious of her being your soulmate. You’d gone into detail on the times, and how they’d aligned with Kate’s working habits. Osgood and Carter had listened and agreed it was a possibility, knowing how well you and Kate got on.

Carter received a message from Kate asking him to report to her office just as you and Osgood were about to head down the hall for a meeting. You raised an eyebrow at the soldier, questioning what Kate wanted, but he had no idea.

He left the pair of you and headed up to Kate’s office, expecting the summoning to be work related. When he arrived at her office, he was met with a fuming Kate pacing the length of her office. She ordered him to close the door and take a seat. Following her orders, he sat and watched her slump into her chair opposite him.

“I need these rumours to stop,” she stated. “Well, no, that’s not entirely true. I don’t care about the rumours; I do care about the horrible comments,” she elaborated, waving her hand in the air in frustration.

“Ah, so you’ve heard them too?” Carter asked carefully. Seeing the nod of her head, he continued. “It’s probably best you don’t say anything formally.”

“That’s the same conclusion I had reached. It would make it worse,” Kate huffed.

“I was going to have a word with my men and shut down whatever I hear. It seems to be mainly from the admin staff, so report everything to HR?” Carter suggested.

“I suppose… It’s not going to be me this will affect though. I need to speak to her about it, but I can’t do that with her avoiding me,” she complained. Kate didn’t want to do anything without your permission in case it backfired. She didn’t want you to think she believed the rumours or let them would come between you.

“We can fix that part. Hold off on everything else until you’ve spoken,” Carter said.

He went into detail on how to get you to speak to Kate. Carter knew if Kate asked, you would turn up at her office. He could also tell that Kate clearly cared about you – he could only hope that you both figured out how much you meant to each other.

Leaving Kate in her office with a plan for that evening, he sent a message to Osgood to let her know what had happened. Although she claimed not to want to get involved, she cared about both of you too much to want to be out of the loop. Carter told her not to warn you in case you worried or somehow found a way out of speaking to Kate.

The rest of the day went relatively smoothly. Carter spent a lot of his time training with his troop, where you had been glued to Osgood’s side in back-to-back meetings. The soldier was right in his observations that it was mainly the admin staff gossiping, as not one of the scientists said anything or looked at you any differently in your meetings. By the time you returned to your lab, you had almost forgotten the whole thing, until a message from Kate popped up on your tablet.

Panic flared through you. She asked you to come to her office and you assumed the worst. Had she heard the rumours? Did she realise how you felt? Were you in trouble? Did she want to put more distance between you? If she wanted to, she could send you to any one of the other UNIT branches. These thoughts plagued your mind as you made your way to her office.

You knocked on her door, waiting until you heard her call out before opening it. You kept your eyes on the floor as you stepped in and carefully shut the door behind you. Kate’s gaze burned through you the entire time.

“You asked for me ma’am?” you quietly questioned.

“I did,” she confirmed. She rose from behind her desk, moving around to perch on the other side of it. She didn’t miss that you addressed her formally or flinched at the sound of her moving. “Why do you think you are in trouble?”

“Unplanned meetings tend to be due to an emergency or a reprimand. If it was an emergency, Osgood would be here too,” you responded.

Kate sighed, realising you weren’t going to look up any time soon, your worry having persuaded you that something was wrong. She walked slowly towards you, hoping you wouldn’t panic further. You didn’t flinch this time but stayed frozen in place. It wasn’t until her hand landed on your upper arm that you looked up in confusion.

Your eyes met hers, the deep brown reflecting nothing but concern towards you. It was then that you noticed the atmosphere in the office. The overhead light was off, the room lit by the soft glow of lamps instead. A bag of takeaway was sat on the coffee table, cans of drink and the dinnerware already prepared next to it. You hadn’t even smelt the curries, something that you really should have straight away.

“I thought you might not want Chinese again and remembered you liked the Indian restaurant down the road.” Kate smiled at you as you turned back to face her. She dropped her hand to your wrist, leading you over to sit on the sofa.

“But the rumours?” you murmured, watching her dish up the food.

“I don’t care about the rumours. If their lives are so dull that they’ve got nothing better to do than gossip about us, then that’s their problem,” she pointed out, trying to keep her anger to a minimum. Kate handed you a plate and turned to face you properly. “The horrible comments on the other hand need to be dealt with but how is up to you.”

“I’ve been avoiding you,” you admitted biting your bottom lip.

“I know and I understand.” Kate’s eyes softened, having not expected you to admit it, but glad you were opening up. “It also explains why you’ve been staying so late hidden away in your lab. You’ve been working almost as late as me.”

You let out a small huff of laughter, not having expected her to notice the change in your working habits. You gladly accepted the excuse of the rumours as the reason you’d been staying late, not wanting her to question it any further.

Kate watched your reaction curiously. The laugh that escaped you was so different to what she usually heard from you. She was almost certain you were hiding something but couldn’t work out what it was.

She wouldn’t tell you, but she’d been watching you more closely since you had been blown up. She’d spent more time noticing how you would respond to things, more time taking note of what you like and dislike. Kate had realised months ago that she liked you, the UNIT protocols holding her back from saying anything, but those protocols seemed a whole lot less important since you got hurt. It was merely a happy coincidence that she’d also noticed that her time tattoo seemed to align well with you. If she could just get proof that you were soulmates, then it would be the perfect excuse to break protocols, because who could argue with the universe?

The pair of you had lapsed into silence, quietly eating while your minds were elsewhere. Kate had said that it was up to you how to deal with the comments, but you had no idea what, if anything, would help.

“How have things been with the science team? Have you heard anything from them? I’ve only heard the rumours from the admin staff.” Kate broke the silence.

“No, the science team are acting as normal, but Os has been there the whole time,” you responded.

“You think they would gossip if Osgood wasn’t there?” Kate inquired.

“Maybe some of them – the grads, mainly. I think the rest of them are too loyal, either to me or you, to spread anything.” You could certainly say those who you’ve both worked closely with over the years would be too loyal. However, those like McGillop, just knew what you and Kate were like with each other. “Or they know us well enough to think nothing of it.”

“Hmm you’re probably right, they know we are good friends. Everyone else must have too much time on their hands if they immediately jump to dating,” Kate complained.

“You know you’ve just jinxed the quiet lull, right?” you groaned. It was now only a matter of time before something went wrong, as was always the case when people were enjoying the rest period.

She rolled her eyes, knowing that most of her team now believed in the jinx. Unfortunately, she did too. “What’s your bet?”

“Probably within the next 12 hours.” Kate raised her eyebrow at you disbelievingly. “You think sooner?”

“Definitely. I give us maximum of four,” Kate bet.

After agreeing that the loser buys lunch tomorrow, the pair of you shook hands on the deal and went back to eating.

It had only been a few days of avoiding Kate, and you knew you were missing her, but the amount you missed this didn’t hit you until now. Sitting on the sofa in her office, in a comfortable silence, you could lower your barriers and just be. You didn’t need to distract yourself with experiments or pretend to be someone you aren’t.

She never expected anything from you in these moments, usually just engaging you in random conversations and getting to know you. The silence was a bit heavier today, but you figured that was because Kate didn’t want to push you.

You took the lead this time, telling her about the item you’d been testing the last few days. She responded with her usual enthusiasm, her inner scientist able to peak through in these topics of conversation. The tension had been slowly draining out of Kate throughout the evening, the concern easing as you started to act as you normally would with her. She was pleased you had relaxed around her and were no longer avoiding her gaze or flinching.

Kate’s tension returned full force as an alert sounded over the comms, calling any of the primary team still present in the office to the control room. You groaned, pushing up off of the sofa and heading towards the door. Kate was right behind you, reporting that you were both on the way.

As you entered the control room, you locked eyes with Osgood as she was sat at her desk whispering with Carter. Suspicion rose in you as she blushed slightly, her eyes flicking between you and Kate. You turned to glance at Kate, the older woman already tapping on the tablet a soldier handed to her as she walked next to you. The look on her face spoke volumes, making you guess that lunch was on you tomorrow.

You leaned towards her, quickly reading the screen. “I thought Torchwood got rid of Cell 114?”

“What?” Kate asked, turning to you as you both stopped next to Osgood and Carter.

“That signal looks exactly like the signal Cell 114 use. Send it to me and I can double check,” you state, taking a seat next to Osgood. Kate transfers it to your screen and watches as you pull up data on Cell 114. “Yep, same signal. I’ve sent you Torchwood’s file on Serenity Plaza.”

“I didn’t think we had access to Torchwood’s files?” Carter asked, moving to read over your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” you muttered, transferring the information to Osgood’s screen so you could work on triangulating the signal.

“How the hell did you manage to hack their mainframe?” Kate stared at you in shock.

You explained how you and Osgood had some spare time and decided to come up with a plan to hack their system. You detailed how you reversed the backdoor Dr Sato had previously used to enter UNIT’s system. You looked at Kate sheepishly, not knowing if she was aware that the backdoor was still there from way before she took over UNIT.

Kate seemed unconcerned that there was a backdoor, but you couldn’t tell whether she was mad you had used it to reverse hack. You quickly mentioned that you’d need to head out into the field with scanners. You’d managed to narrow the signal down to a square mile outside of Orpington but couldn’t narrow it further from the Tower. Kate nodded at your explanation and moved on to telling Carter and Osgood to prepare for the mission.

She commanded Carter to head to the weapons store, ordering him to make sure all the team were armed as well as to bring explosives. Then she turned to Osgood and asked her to retrieve the specific scanners from the lab and anything else she felt the team may need. You suggested the device that can return specific frequencies, in case the signal could be manipulated against them. Kate confirmed your addition and told everyone that she wanted to head out within the next ten minutes.

A soldier on the other side of the room confirmed the helicopter would be ready to go in five minutes. Kate nodded at him in thanks and watched him open the blast doors to prep for the flight. Once he walked through the blast doors, she pivoted back to you.

“Looks like lunch is on you.” She smirked, amusement flashing in her eyes.

“Lunch?” Carter asked, stopping halfway across the room, hearing the teasing tone in Kate’s voice.

“Kate jinxed the lull,” you stated, causing Osgood and Carter to groan and look pointedly at Kate, whose smirk disappeared rapidly. “She won the bet of when the quiet would end, so I owe her lunch.”

They nodded and headed out of the room; their curiosity satisfied. As soon as they disappeared, Kate dropped in the chair next to you. “You didn’t have to throw me under the bus,” she murmured, a pout gracing her features.

“Ah, but that’s part of the fun,” you chuckled at her fake sulking, glad she still seemed to be in good spirits considering you hacked another organisation. “Torchwood blew up the whole gated community to get rid of Cell 114. The government aren’t going to be happy if we do that.”

“I know, hopefully we find another way.” Kate blew out some air in frustrated contemplation. She tapped her fingers on the desk in front of her, before abruptly spinning the chair to look at you. “When did you hack into Torchwood?”

“Two days ago. I think the interface likes me or was at the very least impressed that I accessed her.” You pulled the remote interface up on your tablet, showing Kate the Torchwood system.

“It’s sentient?” she asked, watching as it responded to you.

“I think so. She must not have been damaged when Torchwood 3 was blown up,” you contemplated. “I’ve siphoned off files that could be of interest, they’re on a separate drive so they can’t bring down our system if corrupted.”

“We will need to talk about this, more from a ‘you shouldn’t have kept that from me’ point of view but well done.” Kate winked and squeezed your shoulder as she stood up. “I also want to know when you expanded your coding skills,” she commented, clearly impressed with your most recent growth in skills.

As soon as Carter and Osgood returned, the small team moved out. It was a quick helicopter ride over to Orpington, taking less than fifteen minutes to reach the area the signal was emitting from. You were able to narrow down the area while in the air, directing the helicopter to land in Goddington Park – the closest empty space to land near the signal.

Even once on the ground you had trouble identifying the exact location of the signal. For the first two hours, the four of you walked around the area, hoping either the signal would get stronger, or you would notice something odd.

When that approach failed, you and Osgood set yourselves up on a park bench under a streetlamp and tried to adjust the sensitivity of the scanners. Kate had sat next to you and was reading through Torchwood’s report on Serenity Plaza to see how they found the broadcasting device. Carter had insisted that there had to be something noticeably odd in the area so took a soldier with him to keep canvassing the area.

After managing to make one of the scanners more sensitive, you called Josh back to retrieve it, so he could test it while you worked on the other. You were beginning to get restless, the boredom of the task and fatigue making you keep shifting in your seat. You ended up sitting with your legs crossed, knee resting against Kate’s thigh.

Osgood noticed you settling and watched as Kate shifted closer to prop her tablet up on your leg. The scientist smiled as she went back to recoding the scanner, thinking how the pair of you were clearly made for each other.

It was nearing 3 am, when you suggested a change in tactics. The scanners had enabled you to identify a group of six houses the signal could be coming from. At that point you hacked into the surrounding CCTV cameras, in hopes the video footage picked up something strange just before the signal started being broadcast.

Your head was resting on Kate’s shoulder as you both watched her screen. Osgood was dozing on your other side, resting against Carter who was watching the same footage on his screen. You shook as a cold breeze rustled over you. Just as Kate moved to pull you closer, something caught your eye, and you jolted forward to pause the screen.

“There!” you exclaimed pointing at the shadow in one of the windows. You pulled up a photo from the Torchwood file, comparing it with the shadow. “That’s the same shape as what the arm of Cell 114 shifted into when Torchwood came across them.”

“Which house?” Carter asked, leaning over Os as you showed him the screen.

“Looks like the one on the end. That’s convenient if we need to blow it up,” you joked.

“No. We are not blowing a house up, especially not this early in the morning,” Kate affirmed, rolling her eyes as she noticed your teasing grin. “Carter, lead the way. When we get to the house, I want to try to manipulate the signal before using weapons.”

“Yes, ma’am!” You mock saluted, before grabbing the signal manipulator and skipping off to catch up with Carter.

Although your excitement had woken Osgood up fully, she was still a lot more sedate in rising from the bench. Kate hovered, keeping an eye on you, but not wanting to leave Os by herself. Osgood shouldered the other tech bag, debating whether to break the silence with Kate.

You had reached the edge of the park by the time Osgood and Kate started moving towards you. A quick glance towards them had you rooted to the spot, hand reaching out to stop Carter. He was slightly confused at why you stopped him, having also assumed they were right behind the pair of you. You both waited patiently, planning your approach towards handling the sleeper agents.

“Carter won’t let anything happen to her,” Osgood quietly spoke.

“I know. I still worry after the incident with the spacecraft,” Kate replied, her eyes still not leaving your figure in the distance.

“You care about her a lot, don’t you?” the brunette inquired.

Kate hummed her agreement. “I care about all of you, but yes.” She knew what Osgood was asking, what she was hinting at. Kate knew she could be honest with the scientist, their friendship spanning many years.

“I’m glad. She cares about you a lot too. You’d be good together,” Osgood whispered, bumping her shoulder with Kate’s as they almost reached you. The blonde smiled, hoping that Osgood was right.

Once the pair had caught up, the four of you headed towards the house. You blended into the shadows around the side of the house, hoping the proximity would help with manipulating the signal. Carter and Kate stood guard, guns out ready, as you and Osgood set up the equipment.

It took over twenty minutes to get your device locked onto the right signal. You were still unable to reverse it and were getting more certain that it wouldn’t help anyway. Running the signal through the UNIT system, you tried to identify whether it was a transmission or a conversion device like Torchwood had found. You really hoped it wasn’t a conversion signal being emitted.

You hadn’t been able to manipulate the signal after half an hour and decided there was a better course of action. Reaching into the bag Osgood brought from the lab, you hunted around for the EM pulsers.

“I can’t reverse the signal, but I can disrupt it long enough for us to destroy the device emitting it,” you reported to Kate. “I can also make it so our guns work when we go in there, if that’s the route you want to go."

“Okay. New plan, kill the sleeper agents and destroy the device. What do we need for the guns to work?” Kate asked.

You handed her the EM pulser. “An EM pulse should knock out their force field generator,” you explained, handing another device to Carter. “It will also knock out their transceivers. If there are other sleeper agents, they may be woken by this,” you warned.

“Okay. Carter, let base know to be on alert for any unusual activity or similar signals. This is still our best option,” Kate concluded, knowing that if the signal was converting humans into sleepers, they’d have a much bigger problem on their hands.

Carter followed his orders, while you took out your gun, ready to enter the house. You’d usually prefer to be armed with a scanner, but you were a much better shot than Osgood, so it was better if she carried the scanner. You followed Kate around the side of the building, ensuring Osgood was as close next to you as possible.

It was a surprisingly quick mission once you entered the house. The EM pulses worked to knock out the sleeper agents’ force-fields, so a bullet was enough to take out each one. Carter cleared the house as you and Osgood found the emitting device. Kate was hovering nearby, ensuring nothing came up behind the pair of you. Osgood had quickly disabled the device, while you tried to work out whether you could salvage it.

By the time another team arrived to clear up the scene and remove the sleeper agents’ bodies, the sun was already rising. You sighed as you exited the house, following the group back towards the helicopter. It had been a long night, but now you had your hands on some new alien tech, you likely wouldn’t go home until later in the day.

On your arrival at the Tower, you and Osgood were already deep into discussing how to test Cell 114’s tech. Kate didn’t have a chance to send you both home, the pair of you immediately heading towards the labs with the containment box. She shook her head fondly, following out of the control room towards her office, deciding to focus on her paperwork and planning to send you home after lunch.

She’d managed to clear almost her whole pile of paperwork before her stomach started to rumble. Looking towards the clock on the wall of her office, she was shocked to see it was already 1 pm. It was no wonder she was hungry; she had planned on meeting you in the lab for lunch at mid-day.

Kate was surprised that you hadn’t come to get her, your hunger cues a lot more regular than hers. She went to roll her sleeves down so she could put her jacket on when she noticed the time stamp on her wrist. Eleven thirty-seven. Not twenty-three thirty-seven, which would be closer to the normal time, but eleven thirty-seven. Clearly her soulmate had pulled an all-nighter or was having a nap. She shook her head and shrugged her jacket on, finally leaving her office.

She strides down to the labs, greeting those she passes. On her way to your lab, she stopped by Osgood’s office to tell her to head home for sleep. The tired scientist thanked her and began to gather her things. Convinced her lead scientist was actually leaving, she continued on her way. Swiping her pass for your lab, the door opened with a quiet swish of air. She smiled, ready to hear you complain about how hungry you were, but she was met with silence. Glancing around the room, her eyes caught on you. You had your head pillowed on your arms, seated at your desk. She crept closer, seeing that you were asleep. The realisation hit Kate immediately, her eyes flicking between you and her wrist. You were asleep.

Tags: @freshmoneyalmondathlete @suckerforcate

#kate lethbridge stewart #f!reader #kate lethbridge stewart x reader #kate stewart #kate stewart x reader #unit #maybe not so useless after all?#still a bit useless

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you-are-watching-markipliertv · 2 days ago

Text

[Tape cut]

--lright if Dark smokes in here? ... Yeah, you can go ahead, Dark.

Thank you.

[Tape cut]

Please state your name, pronouns and role on the MarkiplierTV team.

My name is Dark Warfstache, I go by they and them, and I am the production supervisor and legal representative for MarkiplierTV.

Thank you for taking the time out to do this interview. For confidentiality, any questions you wanna skip will be cut from this footage. This is your time.

I... Thank you. I'm... I'm not as natural in front of a camera as our talents, but this interview offer piqued my interest... so here I am.

Here you are!

[Nervous laughter]

Okay, cool. Could you tell us how you identify?

...Oh... You know that's a loaded question, Jim.

[Laughter]

I am... Well, I'm bisexual. Queer. Whatever fits best at... whatever time. I say I'm bi. And I am... non-binary, genderqueer... and I'm Intersex, that's not up in the air. It's... the fewer labels I have to think about, the less complicated it feels. This is still a fairly new vocabulary for me.

When did you realize you felt differently about love than what people expected of you?

I... Wow. Alright.

[Laughter]

Codi wrote these, I'm guessing.

[Laughter] Yeah.

[Tape cut]

Well... I realized that I was different... that I felt differently... much earlier than I revealed to anyone else. I was in the closet for a long. Time. I grew up in France in the first half of the 20th century, and while Americans have this stereotype that the French are more effeminate or pansies or whathaveyou... it was still a fairly suffocating environment. A... binary environment. My parents were very strict... and I had been raised to... I'd been raised to fear taking up too much space. I was practically praised when I was polite and quiet and... didn't make waves.

...But... I knew something was different. The way I felt about... other boys and other girls was... I'm sorry...

Do you need a minute?

No, no, I -- I'm alright... Even... Even early in my adolescence, I had this gnawing paranoia that whatever I was feeling... was not lining up with what I'd been taught. Girls liked boys, and boys liked girls, and that was it. C'est ça, c'est tout -- that's it, that's all.

When I had... for lack of a better phrasing, come into myself, when I had this -- this fairly intense identity awakening, well... I wasn't much of a woman or a man anymore. And, in an oddly poetic way... it helped knock those invisible walls down in my head. The rules of men loving women and women loving men didn't apply to someone who... isn't. Either of those.

It's funny you say that, because the next question is: when did you realize you weren't the gender you were assigned at birth?

Oh, well perfect.

[Laughter]

Well, even before... this, all this... before Dark "happened", I... I had my curiosities. I liked suits, I liked dresses. It never fully clicked for me why things as trivial as pieces of fabric were restricted by one's body-type... and then, well, that anxiety came back. So, I... I essentially didn't allow myself room to think about these things. I treated them like unhelpful thoughts. I lost myself in my jobs, I lost myself in education, I... I didn't leave room for it.

So when... all THIS happened... I rubber-banded. I felt -- I felt like the leash was off. Finally, it... it was off, it was unclasped. I had an intense... INTENSE existential episode shortly after I had these awakenings... because it was all at once. It took me some time to regain my footing with -- with myself. With who I was... with who I wanted to be. I was allowed to figure it out for myself. I had that freedom, I... I had a say.

Who I was were gone. The people I was performing in front of was gone. The environment... The environment I had to fit into was gone. Nothing made sense anymore... and that meant that I could make my own rules. For myself, for who I was. For how other people saw me.

How do you feel about coming out so publicly, through a TV interview?

...I... I don't know, yet, how I feel. It's nice to have a listening ear turned to me... or to feel like I have one, anyhow.

You have ears, Dark. We're listening.

...

...Oh, uh... Jim, go get some tissues, ple--

[Tape cut]

Have you made any special bonds with other LGBTQIA+ members of the production team?

Oh, most certainly. Many of the team is queer, much to my surprise. I have a feeling that many queer people -- especially from my time and earlier -- have that moment of epiphany at least once or twice. That realization of, "Wow, there are so many of us"... It's a nice feeling. I've felt that many a time. There's you, and your siblings, there's Mr. Host and young Yandere-chan, and of course my dearest Wilford...

It's... It's really lovely to witness.

Is there anything you'd like to say to any LGBTQIA+ viewers watching this?

...I would like to say... Well, I'm not much for motivational speaking, but I would like to thank you for listening. And I... I'd like to say that... it isn't always going to be as scary as it may feel right now. The more space to allow yourself to figure out who you are -- not who your family or colleagues want you to be -- the sooner you will figure it out... and the more comfortable you will be, and the... better you will understand what you need to feel complete.

...That's really sweet, Dark.

I'm not cut out for it.

You did great! Any closing thoughts?

I need another cigarette.

[Laughter] That's it, then! Thank you for your time. Happy Pride Month!

And to you.

[Tape cut]

#markipliertv #markiplier tv #markiplier egos #the ipliers #staff members #darkiplier #marktv does pride #long post #like even longer than the last one #could ya shut the fuck up dark /lh #smoking #ask to tag

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sobbingscripter · 2 days ago

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i’m sure someone has already asked this before but i’ll just ask again

do you plan on making another invincible series after our turn? i’m literally so obsessed with your writing 😭 the way you make the characters so realistic is amazing

i loved the new chapter btw! (you almost made me cry #daddyissues)

This is gonna be a cooch-to-cooch, so you know, tw: emotional? And I yap a lot.

Like, in all honesty, I wanna take a little break from writing Invincible, specifically Mark, because there are literally SOOOOOOO many amazing Mark writers. Like???

I shit you not. So many amazing writers.

And like, when I wrote my first Mark fic, which was the 'They Do It In Porn' one (I think), there were like... minimal Mark fics. And I was like, fuck, there can't only be a handful of people that wanna fuck this man.

And now, there are literally so many people who wanna smash. And who write about wanting to smash, and like, that's so lovely to

So, I don't wanna say some shit like, "oh, it's pointless for me", because it's not. I love writing for Mark, he's such a dork. But I'm low-key just gonna keep doing friends-to-lovers, and comfort stories. Because I am, in fact, a one trick pony.

So, I'd much rather like... Step aside, when it comes to Invincible. So there's a lot of different tropes, and ideas and you know, the whole shebang. There are so many flavours of Mark Grayson.

There's literally a whole bunch of people who write for Mark, so like...

Okay, imagine. Like.

A bake sale.

And everyone's got something different, everyday. And like, there's a brownie stand. It's always JUST brownies. Fresh brownies, yes, but always a brownie.

Same mixture, same consistency, same chocolate filling (omg, I had brownies this one time and I've never forgot it and this analogy just made me miss the lady that made them).

But back to the point, you'll get bored of the brownie.

I'm the lady selling the brownies btw. In the analogy. And Mark Grayson is the brownie.

Or should I say something lemony? Either way.

I'm using this as like, a way to say that after Our Turn🌼 (flower's mandatory), I'll probably be taking a break from writing Invincible.

So the possibility of another Invincible series is like... Close to zero.

I think I have like... 4 more Invincible fics/drabbles to complete before I pop out of the Invincible writing scene for a little bit.

BUT, I can make a list of other amazing Invincible writers, who, put their whole pussy into it. I'm talking, emotion, wording, grammar, aesthetically pleasing displays.

Idk about humour tbh because I'm only full of myself when it comes to my sense of humour. I literally have a dimple and smile lines because I laugh at my own jokes so much.

I didn't do a little... Notification thingy like this before I took a pause on writing DC, but kinda the same thing. But... This break'll probably be longer than my DC break.

But you know, :3

It's not like I'm leaving an empty spot, so that's really good. I made my impact with a relatively good series, that made me happy and hopefully made a lot of other people happy. Which is, honestly the best part.

The fact that I could geek out over fluff with a bunch of strangers on the internet.

But if I yap any more, it's gonna sound like I'm planning to off myself, but I'm not. I promise. I'm just not writing for Invincible for a while, which isn't as deep as I made it out to be but I thought an explanation would be like, deserved.

But like... Yay, Mark came early.

Also, I'm so sorry you cried, lmao. So did I. Nolan's so dear to me.

🌷🌷🌷

#sobbingscripter #smut writer #answering stuff #answering questions #invincible

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taag-the-withering · 2 days ago

Text

I'm back on my bullshit. Go my scarab, be free.

Excalibur, Tales of Arcadia's shiny "new" weapon introduced to us in Wizards. As we all know, Excalibur was handed off to Jim in the movie who's name we do not speak of. However before the trailer drop, I remember several theories going around of who would be the wielder of such a weapon, one amongst those who were theorized to hold the weapon was Steve Palchuk.

This will not necessarily be a what-if theorizing segment of what I think would happen if Steve had Excalibur, but rather this is an analysis of Steve and how him holding the handle of Excalibur would have been a fantastic writing choice.

To state why I think the choice would have been well-made I need to break down my main talking points. Firstly, the choice would have been a incredibly strong ending to Steve's entire character arc. And secondly, the thematic standings would have made far more sense than it would with Jim.

Steve's entire arc is about proving himself.

He starts off in Trollhunters lashing out against anyone who looks at him wrong in order to show that he's better than everyone else. This sounds kind of like a crack theory but I have proof of this ideal which I'll mention later.

Anyway, people don't deny Steve or go against that idea of his normally because they don't want to get caught in the crossfire, which further attempts to prove to Steve himself that he is special. When Jim intervenes against Eli and eventually wins the fist-fight against Steve, it becomes a defining moment for both of them. Jim proves to himself that he can in fact win a fight against Draal and Jim directly counterattacks against Steve's mindset.

With the entirety of Steve's identity being threatened, he now targets Jim, albeit in a very stereotypical bully fashion but he still targets him and threatens the things that Jim cares about and his identity. For example, Jim's love of vespas is threatened by Steve owning a vespa as well. Jim's crush on Claire, Steve is going to get in his way as much as possible (the play understudy, etc).

What makes all this fruitless for Steve is that Jim doesn't care, Jim could care less that Steve has a vespa and by the time Jim's Trollhunting is revealed to Claire it's already set in stone (get it cause-) that Jim and Claire will become a couple. Steve basically has nothing to prove himself as better against Jim, they both got a vespa, and Jim "gets the girl". So when Spring Fling comes around and Steve is one of the nominees, he focuses on that, the title of king to show that he's special.

Once again, Jim could not give a shit, and Steve ultimately wins. Which is a major ego boost for him, taking him out of that very desperate mentality he held beforehand… but not without it being threatened first, and not by Jim.

Steve's pixie scene, like to many other characters is pivotal to understanding how they operate (thanks Angor, you save this theory/analysis). What is viewed typically as just a gag, rather provides us with some useful insight into Steve as a character and backing to my theory that Steve desires to be special.

In Steve's pixie scene he sees several highly confident copies of himself, all doing things like him. With these exact carbon copies of himself, Steve's entire identity of being special is once again threatened, because if everybody is Steve and Steve is supposed to be special… then he himself isn't special, isn't unique, isn't different from everyone else.

In fact, he drops quite the brutal line during all of this "Don't kill myself. Don't kill myself. I'm special." So… yeah. I'd say the pixie scene is enough proof alone that Steve hinges everything on seeing seen as special. At least until S2 when he teams up with Eli and becomes a Creepslayer.

When Steve discovers the hidden world of Arcadia beneath his feet, via a "raccoon" in his garage which is actually just a goblin he, interestingly enough, goes to Eli to ask about the monsters in Arcadia. And they both determine that they together need to help save Arcadia from the monsters in the dark. What makes the Creepslayerz episode so pivotal for Steve's arc is that Steve does not pursue the idea of saving Arcadia alone, but rather goes to someone he was previously pushing down against, Eli. I would argue that Steve actually did believe Eli on some level about the monsters in Arcadia, but in order to prove that he special he made sure to ostracize Eli for talking about it, because if Eli was getting attention then Steve isn't.

Over the course of this episode, Steve's desire to prove himself to being special and his actions taken to prove such a thing go from putting down and harming others to helping others, not just alone but aided by someone else.

This is big. And the first steps taken by Steve into stepping into the roles that would be needed for Excalibur.

What exactly are the roles needed for Excalibur though?

Based on some light research the general idea was to be a "true king". But that is a quite subjective standard to have. What does it mean to be a true king? For the sake of this not becoming more philosophical, I will say a "true king" is a person who possesses the qualities of a strong leader and is more morally sound than the average depiction of a king nowadays.

While Steve was not a good person, nor a sound leader at the beginning of Trollhunters, he begins to grow as a person from the Creepslayerz episode and on. Helping others, becoming kinder, and becoming more brave. By the Eternal Night, Steve had taken the steps needed to become a better person.

Steve's love for Aja is also very developmental for him, because she is a queen, and holds far more power and ability, and is essentially far more special than him. But rather than attempt to push Aja down, he falls in love with her. By 3Below and Trollhunters S3, Steve recognizes his place in helping others as one of the Creepslayerz with Eli, who he formerly tormented.

Though by the end of 3Below and the beginning of Wizards, Steve's identity is threatened again. But this time is because he won't be able to see Aja or Eli again for quite a while. His identity then hadn't hinged on being special, it had been hinged on helping others alongside and with the people he cares about.

Not that Steve doesn't necessarily care, in fact he begins looking for a place amongst others to help and fight with them in the beginning of Wizards. But the Trollhunters team is already set, so Steve keeps searching for belonging with his identity alongside other people.

When the group lands in Camelot, Steve begins to look for his identity within the knights of Camelot. Now faced with professionals, and lacking anyone to associate himself with, Steve's identity is under threat again. But rather than lash out against others or even himself, he just keeps trying. Jim, who Steve had previously bullied, he now saves the life of and helps him during Wizards. He battles against Nimue and earns her tooth as a weapon, but doesn't search for more, he just keeps to what he has earned himself, trying to become better. By the old Battle of Killahead, Steve is entrusted the role of helping others by Lancelot, whom Steve admires greatly. So by being given that role by Lancelot and continuing to help others afterwards in Lancelot's steed, Steve has essentially built his own identity revolving around helping others and being brave, neither of which stem from being special.

This full development arc of Steve, displaying his shifting goals and him changing as a person to become better is incredibly important. As it would have been 10x more thematically significant for Steve, the person who wanted to be special by default to earning the title of special himself through hard work, dedication, bravery, and helping others would have been a great finalization. Steve is special not through a default matters that typically come with earning Excalibur, he's not a good person or a good leader by default but he grows into those roles. Steve grows into Excalibur.

Fortunately for you, my first point is a lot longer than my second point.

For the hints of foreshadowing and theming, while Jim did technically pull Daylight out of the conveniently placed boulder in his backyard in Trollhunters. Steve also has plenty of hints for Excalibur himself, hidden throughout the set of series.

In Trollhunters, Steve becomes Spring King, which is incredibly funny on his own, because at that time Steve was not qualified to be a leader or figurehead of anything at all. But the fact that it could have easily been drawn back upon is hard not to ignore. The first time Steve was assigned King, he did not deserve the title, but earning Excalibur, he would have earned that title. That parallel could have been a fantastic writing device if Steve had been the choice. In 3Below, Steve is deeply in love with Aja, as said is a queen. The hints of royalty are not subtle here either.

And of course in Wizards. Steve does not only resemble Lancelot, but also subtly resembles King Arthur. While there has been people who assign the thematic roles of the Wizards to Jim, Claire, and Douxie (King Arthur, Morgana, and Merlin). I believe a more accurate telling to what the roles could have been in order would be Steve, Jim, Claire, Douxie to King Arthur/Lancelot, Deya, Morgana, and Merlin respectively. Ultimately, I would argue that Jim's role should have always remained as the Trollhunter, not a king. The Trollhunter armour always gave the air of a knight and protector rather than the high standing role of a king. While Jim does also have leadership qualities that should not be ignored, he also uses those leadership qualities in the heat of battle, organizing his allies and defeating enemies. Jim would be far more suited for the role as a war general than a straight up king.

Nonetheless, I'm under the impression that giving Steve Excalibur would have been thematically amazing. As it would highlight the change of a person and how becoming kinder and more helpful are actual qualities that make a person special. Jim was kind and helpful on a default, therefore people associate that with his personality, not the general requirements of what it means to be a good person. Steve shows that people can change and become better, and his character development in the background would have had a fantastic finish with him earning Excalibur, becoming not only an actual king, but the kind of special that he wanted people to look up to in the first place.

#taag talks #tales of arcadia #steve palchuk #this is in fact a gift for azurewildflight who keeps giving me free art for my trollhunter mary au #So yeah I gotta draw back on my own skills (yapping) in order to give a gift in turn #because I'm super thankful for it all and want to give something in return #Also in general I think Steve having Excalibur would have been a super fun choice #does this count as rent lowering gunshots? Maybe...#trollhunters #3below #wizards tales of arcadia

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