#i miss her (an episode is airing today)

[corvidcleric]

[start i.d.: a drawing of junior year kristen applebees. she is kneeling, defeated, looking up to the sky with her hands in her lap. she is drawn in vivid yellows and oranges, while the backdrop is twilight purple, with orange poking through. end i.d.]

don’t have no god to / teach me no lessons

[midnight-els]

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the West Wing would have been even better if they'd had a White House cat. Some headcanons bc I was thinking about it today:

Jed gave the cat a very grand, biblical name. Everyone else has shortened it to something very stupid.

Obviously all of the press and the public adore the cat. There's a minor upset in a polling themed episode when Joey confirms that once again the cat has higher approval ratings than the president. Josh is cross that they are polling on this at all.

There is one chair in the Oval Office that is The Cat's Chair. The staff know not to sit there as you'll get a. covered in fur and b. screamed at by an irate cat trying to force you off. They never warn any of their least favourite congresspeople about this.

The cat wanders around in the background of episodes, often being chased or petted by the extras.

The cat is not allowed in the situation room. The cat is always in the situation room. They had to come up with a special bug detecting protocol for the cat in case anyone tried to take advantage of this.

Ripped from the headlines plot about a congressional investigation into something related to the cat, based on the incident about Clinton's cat's postage.

The cat LOVES Air Force One. The Secret Service do not love having to get him on board or captured to get back off.

Leo and the cat are best friends. They're basically this meme. Leo's the grandma. Jed is the mom.

Aside from Leo, the cat loves the secretaries best. They always have lots of treats for him in their desks. Debbie is the only one he doesn't get on with; she has resorted to using a plant mister to spray him when he tries to get on her desk.

Josh thinks he and the cat are archenemies. The cat hasn't paid more than 2 seconds notice to Josh in his life.

CJ and the cat are archenemies. CJ was very pro-cat until she caught it fishing in Gail's bowl one day. Now she's at war to keep it out of her office. She's still trying to convince Danny to write a piece exposing the cat's dark side to its adoring public. Carol is very tired.

Sam wants so badly to be best friends with the cat. The cat thinks he's trying too hard. Will ends up exactly the same way.

Toby and the cat have never properly interacted and both are very happy to leave it that way.

The cat is supposed to stay in the residence during big events. Abbey stopped enforcing that after he got out and scratched Lord John Marbury when he picked him up against his will.

The cat has a secret service code name. One time, the code names are changed and an overenthusiatic reporter tries to break a story on the first lady's 'unusual activity' by following what he thinks is her code name. It's the cat's. CJ dines out on this for weeks.

The cat occasionally goes missing. The secretaries and Charlie have a recurring B-plot where they have to go and recover him. Somehow, the cat has always ended up somewhere relevant to the A-plot.

The cat properly goes missing after the incidents with the Thanksgiving turkeys and the goat in CJ's office (aka prime cat territory). Each time she claims she'll be nicer to the cat when it returns. Each time it lasts about two days.

Margaret thinks the cat has psychic powers and frequently provides warnings based on her interpretations of 'the signs'. Usually she's right.

The cat somehow makes off with the final edits for the state of the union one time (of course they were only handwritten on one piece of paper). Chaos ensues.

Jed tries to send the cat to Manchester partway through the series. After large-scale outcry from the staff, press and public he is returned to the White House. Unfortunately, after a couple of months as a barn cat he is even more badly behaved than before.

The cat is in both Jed and Abbey's official portraits.

[slttygeto]

HEART TO HEART : GOJO SATORU

what is heart to heart? a show in which we bring two people who have history together to ask them a couple of interesting, heartbreaking questions.

today's episode: 27 year old Gojo Satoru broke up with his girlfriend 4 years ago, yet he cannot move on. does she feel the same? and does a person really not move on even after four years?

note: i started this…without a second thought. i dont know where its going or if its gonna do well. but i enjoyed it very much

a cold room, a white set, two chairs and a table—satoru gojo knew that the point of this very simple and minimalistic set was to make him feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, but a tiny vase would’ve been appreciated.

“why did you two break up?”

the ivory haired man leans back in his chair with a dry chuckle, fingers drumming along the surface of the wooden table.

“I was insecure,” he admits rather bitterly. “I just had a lot of things to work on, and letting go of her seemed like the right thing to do.”

“do you miss her?”

“oh, absolutely,” there’s a smile on his face when he says that, and sits up straight with his hands clasped together (an indicator that he was most likely anxious to be asked such vulnerable question). he goes on to squeeze his hands a bit and his lips are sealed shut for a bit before opening them again. “I thought to myself that I wouldn’t find love for a while after her—but it’s been four years, and I cannot get myself to move on.”

“has she moved on?”

“maybe? I’m not sure,” he lets out a nervous laugh and looks away from the camera before holding his head in his hands, there was a mental battle going on inside his head—before he finally decides to speak again. “I actually stalked her instagram account last week through a mutual friend and… I didn’t see a man on any of the pictures. she could just be super private.”

“was she private about being with you?”

“she would post pictures here and there, we didn’t like to keep our relationship a secret.”

gojo is handed a blindfold and he neatly wraps it around his eyes and waits, heart thumping loudly in his chest.

when you were asked by a friend if you would do this interview, a part of you was a bit hesitant just because you weren’t sure if you wanted to air out your love life like this and have to deal with the consequences of a potential future lover being upset about it—but when you were told that it was gojo satoru, your ex-boyfriend whom you dated for 3 years and were planning on building a future with—that is until it abruptly ended with no warnings whatsoever. perhaps you ignored the tornado warnings? were there even any to begin with? you will never know because you blocked him everywhere on social media. from instagram to his phone number. you couldn’t deal with the fact that he existed around you, near you yet you couldn’t have him.

four long years of not having seen him took a toll on your heart, as it sure gets excited the moment you spot white strands on top of a head that is laid out on the table. his sense of style is still so casual and laid back, but not in a cocky way. satoru has always been about feeling comfortable in your clothes but you notice his tense shoulders and his foot tapping and can immediately tell that he is anxious.

you silently pull the chair back facing him and he lifts his head off of the table. your hands rest on top of the surface and the producer finally asks gojo to take off the blindfold.

when he does and you two lock eyes, you both start smiling big but you can’t help the little tremble to your lips before you look away from the camera to wipe a few emotional tears.

“sorry,” you whisper but your mic was able to pick it up. almost on instinct, satoru reaches towards you and squeezes your arm reassuringly.

“when was the last time you spoke to one another?”

“four years ago.” you are the one to answer the questions now and you keep avoiding satoru’s big blue eyes.

“was it hard having to walk away from a long term relationship?”

“It’s always hard when you thought there was a connection,” your emphasis on the word “thought” makes gojo look down at his lap almost in shame. he had no time to explain himself or what he did, yet he couldn’t help but feel that this interview was going to be like a second chance to explain himself and perhaps give a proper apology.

“you had no closure?”

“nope.” you both answer at the same time and it feels as though feelings of resentment are starting to resurface as your demeanor grows cold around him and you pull your hands away from the table.

“why do you think you broke up?”

“you said you couldn’t really see us together anymore,” you were now speaking to satoru directly and he gladly took the heat of your words. “you said…that us being together was just a waste of time and that one of us has to walk away,” you were clearly hurt by his words, even four years later. the breakup took a toll on you both physically and emotionally. you were incapable of going on dates for a painfully long period of time that your friends had to drag you outside to meet some potential new partners—but none of them felt like satoru. you resented him for crawling into your heart and finding a safe space there, for settling down and building a warm house inside only to tear it down and leave as quickly as he came.

“I wasn’t… sure what I wanted to do at the time, I was confused about my future,” satoru admits for the first time ever. “I thought it was so unfair to drag you down that hole with me when it was so clear to you that you had a plan in mind—a secure one so I just-“

“left.” you finish the sentence for him and he lets out a pained laugh.

“yeah, I left. and when I realized that you had blocked me, I knew that there was no going back and that I actually did it. yknow, like, it wasn’t this bad dream where I would wake up and you were still beside me—you were actually gone, I made you leave.”

there was a long silence after this and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not after that confession.

“did you miss me?” gojo takes the initiative to ask this question instead of the producer but they don’t complain, watching carefully as you look back at your ex partner.

“I did,” you say again in a whisper, almost scared that you coming to terms with this horrible realization was going to hurt you further.

“do you think that…we could’ve worked out had I been honest at the time?”

“satoru, I would’ve never left you as easily as you did,” you knew that it wasn’t easy for him, but you want him to know that your love for him was bigger than he ever thought.

“would you like to try again?”

you two stare at each other for a bit and you sneak your hand towards his huge palm, resting your index finger there and tracing soft circles.

“yeah… I want to. do you?” you look up at him through your eyelashes and gojo’s heart feels as though it is about to burst.

“I would love to.”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

—💭 if you like this, leave me a tip!

[russellsppttemplates]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6V6n-No6Eu/?igsh=MXFydWFzODkyOWEyYg==

What about a blurb with P asking for the reader because she hasn't seen her in a while? And Lando tells her you're flying over and they arrange a playdate for you

Note: this is easily the cutest video I've ever seen of them 🥹

"Look! It's Lando! Can I go?", the British driver heard as he hung out outside of the hospitality, getting some fresh air before he had to go to the meeting room,

"P!", he cheered, finding the source of the voice, "you're here for the race this weekend?", he mused.

"Yes, me and mama came to watch Maxie race!", she said excitedly as she hugged Lando.

"That's a nice idea - are you enjoying it? I like your backpack", he smiled at the kanguru like backpack, giving Kelly a quick greeting before turning his attention back to the little girl.

"Is Y/N here with you?", Penelope asked, looking around for you.

"She's flying over today! She should be here in a couple of hours", Lando smiled as she nuzzled her head on his tummy, "do you miss her?".

"Yes, I do! I haven't seen her in so looong", P extended the word with a groan as Lando petted her head slightly, "do you think she'll want to come play with me? Me and Maxie found some swings yesterday", she smiled.

"I bet she will - I don't think she's coming to the paddock today, but tomorrow she will be here, and you can tell her all about those cartoons you showed me the other day too!", Lando suggested.

"Yes! Mama! Me and Y/N have a playdate tomorrow!", she yelled as Kelly approached them after she snapped a couple of pictures at the cute moment.

"Is that so, hm? Did she say yes to it or are you making everyone follow your lead? Her teacher says she's always bossing the other kids around", she mused.

"She's not here, but Lando says she's flying today and tomorrow we have a playdate - we have to bring my iPad so I can show her the new Bluey episode - do you know if she's seen if?", Penelope asked.

"I'm sure she hasn't", Lando assumed, "which means you'll get to show her for the first time, darling!", he smiled.

"Yes! Tomorrow, we'll come here to find Y/N - tell her that I like her a lot and that I can't wait, okay?", Penelope asked.

"I will - say hi to Max for me too?", he stretched his pinky finger to lace it in her much smaller one.

"That was cute actually", Zak said once they were back inside the hospitality.

"She loves Y/N, which also means I gave her a free pass to steal my girlfriend for the whole weekend", Lando mumbled, "might have not been the best decision considering I haven't seen her in two weeks and I would very much like to keep her all to myself".

"Should've thought about it first as I'm not sure you can compete with Bluey - that episode is very fluffy!".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[tan1shere]

Passion Painting

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: Was watching my show when I got a little inspired by an episode :D kinda quoted a line from it too because it was fitting. I'll make it bold so you guys know ! - I literally need this woman rn (or even a dom in my asks that'll be great too.)

Summary: you get a gift so you and Billie spice things up a bit ;)

Warnings: smut ! Scissoring 🥰 bills being a bit rough 😫 (i personally love how this turned out)

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @iluvapplesxh @chrissv4mp @n0vabug

masterlist

The door opens, hearing keys jingle. Billie was finally home and you had missed her all day. But she doesn't come empty handed. You had just come into the room, greeting her. "Hey baby, what's that?" She sets it down. "Well, it's an early Christmas gift from Claudia. She said we can open it whenever? Whatever that means." You tilt your head. "Do we open it now?" She takes her shoes off, looking at you. "I mean if you want to, she didn't say otherwise. So I'd say its fine." She smiles at you, going over to give you a kiss.

"Good day?" - "It was ok, bit slow work wise but apart from that it was good." You say, going to pick up the box wrapped with festive paper. Bringing it over to the dining table. "How's Finn and Claudia? Did you get much done today?" She nods. "They're good, and yeah a little bit thank goodness. Glad to be home, missed you." You go to kiss her again. "I missed you. Right lets see what we have here." You say, ripping the thin material. Reading the box outloud.

Confusion strikes you. "What is it?" Billie asks. You turn it around so she can see, reading out the words to her. "Passion Painting Erotic Art Kit." She makes a face of realization. "So that's why she said to do it at night time and maybe after a date. I was so confused." You look at her. "You wanna do it?" She thinks for a moment, smirking to herself. "What? Slather you in paint and fuck you? Without a doubt babe." You grin widely. "Sounds like a plan then."

Giggles echoed though the house as you open the front door and speed over to the kit. Billie close behind. "I've actually been thinking about this all day." You admit. "Oh yeah?" She comes close to you. "Sitting in your desk at work, clenching your thighs as I smear paint all over your body. Over your curves." Your faces were close to one another, inches away. You bite your lip, averting your eyes to look at hers. They were natural apart from a little liner making them look plump and inviting. You lean in to kiss her but she pulls back.

Causing an annoyed groan to leave you. "Billie." You whine. She chuckles. That fucking chuckle. It was menacing. "Why don't we make this a little challenge." Your head tilts with intrigue. "I'm listening." She goes to unbox it, waiting a moment before she speaks again. "Let's see how long we can go without kissing one another." - "What-?" She turns around. "Don't think you can?" You think for a second. "Fine, let's see who looses." She smirks. "I think we both know who that's going to be." Your eyes roll. "Yeah yeah." But her hand grabs your jaw.

"Such an attitude for someone whos about to get fucked on the floor." Your throat closes up finding breathing to be the last thing on your mind currently. You both spread the canvas out. But in reality, you're going to be the canvas spread out at the end of the night. She'd make sure of it. You pick up the paints. Gold and blue. "Which?" She looks at them. "Hmm blue." You hand her the blue. "Right well I better get out of this." You began, back facing her. Slightly bent over as you stand back up. She smirks to herself grabbing the zip at the top of your dress. And swiftly pulling it down.

You gasp as the air hits your nipples. Since the dress had no straps you went against wearing a bra. Now standing almost fully naked in your kitchen, you two had moved some furniture around so you'd have the right space. "Oops, well I mean now all you need to take off is that tiny. Tiny. Pair of underwear." You had to process how fast she was with the dress you almost didn't register her hands pulling the thin material of your underwear off. It was only then when you realized how cool everything got. A shiver running down your spine. You wanted to kiss that smirk right off her face.

But you couldn't, you had to remember the game. "Your turn." Her smirk stays, grabbing her shirt from the back with one hand, lifting it off her head. Hair becoming messy. She takes off her pants next because she too, didn't put a bra on. There was no need. But you definitely weren't complaining. Your eyes stare for a moment. Maybe if you focused on that and not her really, inviting lips you'd be fine. But God were you wrong. You just wanted to grab her and kiss her. You both stand fully naked infront of one another.

Your nerves getting the better of you as she stalks closer to you. The lid pops off the paint. As she hands you the blue one. "We have to put it on one another." But her words went out one ear and out the other. "Hey." She says getting your attention. "Focus baby." Your eyes meet hers, handing her the gold. There was still some plastic on it so she brings it up to her mouth, getting ahold of it and ripping it off. All while keeping intense eye contact. You were going to be dripping soon. And not with paint. Her lips come to the cap, popping that off and out of her mouth. She squeezes a good amount into her hand. "You're going to be so gold you'll look like one of my Oscar's."

You gulp back saliva, you were almost drooling. Even more so when her hand makes contact with your skin. The paint was a little cold, but her burning hands soon get rid of that. Your body starts to become hot. Nerves coming back more prominent. She rubs it all over your chest, moving down to your tits, having it around most but leaving your nipples free. She had plans. Her movements were incredibly slow, making you more needy. She made sure she got your whole body, minus the places she needed access to. Standing back and letting you take over on hers.

Your shakey hand comes in contact with her neck. "Nervous?" You shake your head. "That's not really an answer huh?" You couldn't look at her, you just couldn't. You were close to giving into everything how was she so God damn calm? Your mind races as you come to her breats, you were hesitant but eager to touch them. "Why so Nervous huh? It's as if you haven't touched them before, when we both know that's not true." She was getting you to break, to give up on the game. "You're making this harder.." You whisper out. "Is that so? Darn, I didn't even realize." You pout slightly. "Can't go on?"

You think for a second, shaking your head. "Im fine." You say as your hands move over the rest of her body. "So shy, sweetheart." You swallow. "N-no I'm not." Her brow raises. "Don't lie." But she softly grabs your hand, moving them over her body. "See like that, not hard is it?" You whimper. "You're making it hard Bills." Your eyes look at her with a pleading glint. "Shame." Her eyes look down at your body. "Think its time we have our fun." She says, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down on the paper. Letting her hands move to your breasts. She had the left a part of your neck blank, bringing her lips to it and kissing.

"Billie.." You breathe out, but she moves her hands and grabs your ass tightly. "Uh uh, say it correct." Your head spins. "Mommy." - "Good girl." Your eyes shut. Trying so hard to resist the urge to kiss her. "Mommy please." You say, grabbing her arms and moving them down to her waist as she begins to move her cunt on your own. Your first moan of the night slips out. "What? Are you all sad you can't kiss me darling girl? You agreed to the challenge no?" You zip it. Hating that you did agree to it, you didn't care anymore. You go to switch positions getting ontop.

"Please let me kiss you please." Her hands rest on your lower back as you desperately move your pussy on hers. "Please Mommy, need it so bad." She smirks. "I can see angel. You've never done that before I guess you truly mean it." You pout again at her, she was playing with you and it was driving you mental. Moving down to attatch your lips to her own. But she serves, loving the little frustrated whines you let out. "You're so mean." Her hand instantly wraps around your throat and in the blink of and eye she was back ontop.

"What was that princess?" Her grip tightens making your words float away. "Hm??" You try to talk but it's no use. "Exactly what I thought." Her hand grips your thigh, hoisting it up to dangle on her shoulder. Her hand remains around your throat while the other is on the paper, close to your head and surely leaving a handprint on the almost covered paper. Your body's making art. Surely a night to remember. Her movements become harsh making your mind race, your mouth hangs open at the feeling of both of your wetness together. She watches your eyes roll back, and slowly seeing your lids drooping.

"there you go, fall into subspace that's it. You beautiful being." You had no thought other than her, the way she was fucking against you. Absolutely no words left. Her hand stays firmly around your throat. Your bodys soon come close together. Your breasts touching, nipples grazing one another and that was it. That was all it took for you two to gush against the other. Her lips come crashing down onto your own, loosening her grip to hear your sinful moans travel into her mouth. She groans as she rides out both of your orgasmns. Flopping on you to catch her breath. "Wow." You say. "Wow indeed."

You had a nice soothing shower together, getting comfortable in your bed. Snuggling up close. Until you grab your phone. "What're you doing?" She asks. "Thanking that amazing woman for even thinking of this for us." She smiles, letting out a laugh. "Thank her for me too." You then smile to yourself. "You do know you lost your own game right?"

"A wins a win when you get to fuck your girlfriend and showcase it on a wall for everyone to see and know that you're all. Mine."

[conflictofthemind]

Churchgate: The Dear Billy Connection

If you missed it somehow, here's the original Churchgate post. Heads up I'm going to be re-sharing a few other people's ideas here but they will all be tagged of course.

First, let me share the last of the information I've gotten since that post. The only exclusive stuff I have is that I spoke to someone who confirmed Noah is filming in Atlanta the entirety of next week when the Church set is also filming. I talk to this person occasionally and they are very reliable.

The crux of Churchgate is that Will is going to be possessed, though I'm also down for a Vecna'ing, and Mike will be the one to snap him out of it. This is very similar to what happened to Max in the episode 'Dear Billy'. And well it turns out that that episode has insane foreshadowing for Churchgate.

DEAR BILLY:

If you remember, there was a weird easter egg where the OST when Max reads out her letter to Billy is actually named "Dear Willy". The connection to Churchgate might just be the reason behind that. Let me refer to a community post made by my friend @greenfiend who was just talking about this today.

If the church scene is a confessional, Mike might finally have to share the full truth he was talking about holding back in this scene. So will Will.

2. Mentioned in the post but both scenes would be taking place in, or right next to, a graveyard.

3. A crane has appeared on the set of the church. To perform the Max levitating stunt in Dear Billy, they used a similarly large crane to hoist her up in the air. This is the only other time they've used a crane like this to film a ST scene. Remember Sadie also wore contacts and rehearsed prior in studio to film this scene, just like what's happening with Churchgate.

4. Dear Billy introduces the idea of a demon "Spawn of Satan" haunting the Creel family. This ends up being Henry, or rather possessed!Henry (in TFS it is revealed he has been under the influence of the mindflayer just like Will).

5. Dear Billy has Hopper escape the Russian Gulag into the sanctuary of a Church where he eventually reunites with Joyce.

And finally:

6. Dear Billy is the episode famously directed by Shawn Levy, director of Season 5 Episode 6, who has hinted / told us he is directing an angsty Byler scene, and is currently on set possibly for the church.

[slutt4ellie]

Hearts Over Hierarchy

Loser!Ellie x Popular!Reader

masterslist

PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4

Do opposites really attract?

Summery : When you run into a girl who rarely makes acknowledgment she even exists, there’s something that undoubtedly draws you to her..and a spark is created.

Warnings -> / Weed usage / Reader is confused about her feelings? / Ellie’s also confused about her feelings (ig?) / Just full loser Ellie / Really brief Skater!Ellie / eventual smut (probably) / fluff / tension / Little bits of smau / Toxic friendship / (Lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC: 4.8k (longest fic i’ve ever wrote!)

(Not proofread!)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸 - (takes like 2 seconds 🩷)

(Ellie)

The loud buzzing of Ellie’s alarm shoots her eyes open and her body halfway up. “F-fuck” She grumbles under her muffled voice. Running her right hand down her face.

Ellie grabs the alarm rested on her left bedside table and she’s finally met with the time 9:36am. “Oh fuck” Ellie says quickly stands up out of her single bed, planted in the corner of her single bedroom dorm. Classes start at 9:45. She has a total of 9 minutes to get dressed, leave her dorm, and run onto campus. Which has her leading to the fact there’s almost 0 fucking way she’s making it on time.

Since Ellie’s already up and out of her bed she runs to her dresser to throw on a pair of boxers and a sports bra which is almost instantly covered by “clean” sweat pants and a nike hoodie. It didn’t smell bad so it was fine!

4 minutes, it only took Ellie 4 minutes to get changed and grabbed her skateboard. She also glances over at the time as it now reads now reads 9:40. So this means her time isn’t “horrible” I mean getting ready in 4 minutes is sorta impressive, at least in her mind? Plus campus shouldn’t take that long, as long as she’s fast.

Ellie grabs her skateboard and leaves her dorm quickly running down the stairs, having basically 0 time to wait around and sit there like a duck for the elevator. And as soon as she’s met with concrete she’s off.

The reason why Ellie being late is such a fucking hassle is because she’s already been late a fair share of times building a reputation for it, when she walks into class and shit it doesn’t go without dirty looks. But it’s a new school year, so she’s tryna live by the corny ass saying “new year new me!” and actually not miss half the classes like last term.

(You)

You’re up early, 8:00 to be exact. You quietly leave your bedroom trying not to wake up the rest of your sorority sisters as you tiptoe through the halls. And just as you thought you were clear, a pair of blue eyes are met with yours.

Emily your best friend since freshman year. You two were like glue through high school, nothing could separate the two of you, sure you had fights and disagreements but nothing seemed like it could break the bond between you two..

As you meet her blue eyes you quickly notice her lips turning into a light smirk. “Why the fuck are you tiptoeing like we’re in a fucking Tom and Jerry episode?” You let out a pity laugh and smile “Oh ha ha…! Maybe because i’m nice and I didn’t wanna wake up all you guys?”

Emily smiles right back at you. “Why are you up so fucking early, thought your class started at 9:45?” You nod your head agreeing with her statement. “It does. I just wanted to be on top of it you know!” Emily shakes her head. “No I don’t fucking know? I don’t wake up a full hour and 45 minutes before my classes.”

You smile, you could ask her why she’s up but you already know her class starts at 8:30 (ew.) so going through more questions seems unethical. “Well!” You trail off then pick back up where you ended. “I need to have a shower sooo” Emily nods and goes back to her room “Yeah yeah!”

꧁✵★✵꧂

The steam fills your bathroom and the air is still warm from your lingering shower.

It was weird today. You don’t usually feel nervous for school, I mean you knew people, people knew you. There was literally nothing for you to feel even the slightest bit of tenseness. Yet it was still just there.?

Your just blaming it on basic nerves, you’re not really “excited” to get back into the grove of school, get a ton of work in before due dates which are are way to fucking fast. But either way you knew you had to suck it up so you pushed yourself out those doors and into your car.

Right on time 9:30. It should only take 10 minutes to drive onto campus and that leaves you with about 5 minutes before the lecture starts. At least that’s what you fucking planned.

But just to your luck. There was an incident, nothing serious. Just ending up backing up the roads. And any fucking other day you wouldn’t have really cared. But you really could not afford to be late on your first day back. You wanted to make sure you’re on top of everything, and the walk of shame into the classroom is probably one of the worst things person could every fucking experience.

Once you make it on campus you speed walk through the halls cutting through people just trying to get to your door. Then everything will be fine and normal, you won’t have to worry about how stup-

A hard thud goes straight into your back

You heard about 3 things fall flat on the ground none of the things being yours. And as shitty as it seems, you were genuinely considering walking away just to get to fucking class..

You’re not a complete dick and you were raised better. So this leads you to reluctantly turn around and your met with? Well you don’t exactly know, she looks familiar but maybe she’s a year younger so you don’t often see her. She has brunet- no, auburn hair, green eyes, and freckles that go all around her face. She looks familiar but you can’t put your finger on it.

You look down and notice a binder, a now slightly cracked phone and skateboard which finally you make the decision to crouch down. The auburn hair girl is mumbling a bunch of sorry’s “F-fuck that’s on me. I-i’m like super late? So I was looking down and sh-“ You cut her off and shake your head picking up her phone and binder as she picks up her skateboard. “You’re good..Fuck I’m late too.” You chuckle looking at her as you stand up, quickly handing her the items she dropped on the ground.

You give out your hand to shake “I’m-“ and as your about to say your name, you’re cut off by her voice “N-no I know you, you sat in front of me last term” You don’t know what really led you to say the next part but what else were you going to say?? You didn’t notice her once, lying seemed like a better approach. “Right! Um what was it…A- no H?” You notices how her eyebrows furrow, the fact you definitely don’t know her name is becoming apparent.

“I-uh Ellie” She shakes your hand.

“Yeah! I was getting there!” You smile looking back at her before talking again.

“We’re you?” She tilts her head talking in a tone laced with a joking sound..just from her demeanour alone you can tell she was kidding.

“I was..” You shift your gaze down to her lips then back up. You weren’t trying to be weird or anything, you just did it on instinct which now on the contrary seems a tad bit creepy since this is literally your first time even talking to her.

Once you meet her eyes again you nervously cleared your throat and starting talking once again. “Well what room are you!”

Ellie notices the quick change of subject and she nervously shakes her head “U-uhh fuck 217 I think…?” You nod and look at her “Fuck, okay shit me too?” Your voice stops then picks back up “Want to walk?”

Ellie perks up and nods. It kept playing in the back of her mind why the fuck you were talking to her. Ellie wasn’t popular, not your level of popularity. Everyone knew you. So the fact you were standing in front of her, talking to her. She was almost confused. Yet she wasn’t complaining..

It only took a few minutes before you reached the classroom door, as you check your phone you see you’re a bit late. Nothing to complain about, it’s only 9:47 so who cares..?

When opening the doors your eyes lock with the seats in the back left corner, there open, and no one is sitting in them. You look at Ellie who seems nervous.

Little do you know in her mind she’s wondering where the fuck she’s going to sit.

The only single seats are in the middle of like 5 fucking people.

Once you notices her eyes are scanning the room and her whole face is plastered with a nervous expression you nudge her lightly.

“Wanna sit over there” You point your finger and her eyes quickly follow it.

She seems confused. Like her brain just did a 360 but she stutters over her words when talking back to you. “Y-you wanna s-sit together?”

“Yeah?” You smile and let out a chuckle.

“R-right! Yeah- Yeah we can sit over there.” She smiles and nods looking at you.

As you sit down your phone buzzes in your left pocket not wasting much time to pull it out. There’s one message Emily. Asking if you made it okay and stuff. Which leads to a mini conversation.

You couldn’t help but feel almost icked out? Emily’s not usually rude so her response was weird, and out of character. You wanted to believe maybe she was making a statement or something but you replied regardless.

She was being so strange, like not her usual self. Which lead your eyebrows to furrow and you were abo-

“You okay?” Ellie’s voice says softly probably noticing the fact your eyebrows are furrowed and your face now showing clear signs of annoyance.

“O-oh yeah!” you reply now embarrassed as you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “Just one of my friends, i’m good though!”

Ellie nods and smiles. “Okay, just wanted to make sure?”

You haven’t really met anyone like Ellie. I guess other then Emily? But it still took months to feel comfortable with her. With Ellie it seems almost easy? Like fast?

Your whole friend group is popular. Which wasn’t horrible? The benefits of being popular is nice? Sorta.. But unfortunately half of your “friend group” is fake.

Talking behind peoples back kinda fake.

You tried not to let it bug you though, you had people in your friend group you obviously loved, so you would just stick in that crowd.

But there was always some anxiety which came with it. Like you didn’t know if things you said would get passed around, so when talking to Ellie, knowing nothing had the chance of somehow going to anyone, else it was refreshing.

The class was finally fucking over and you packed up your laptop and papers.

As you were about to leave you said a quick bye to Ellie trying to be respectful. You didn’t wanna ask for her number because you didn’t want to come across as weird, you two just met? So that could wait?

As you turned around there was a quick “wait!” which was clearly from Ellie.

You just turned around trying to read her expression but as you were she cut off your train of thought. “C-can I uh get your number! I was thinking we could maybe study or something. This math s-shit is like kicking my ass” After her sentence there was a dry awkward chuckle. The fact you didn’t immediately respond worried her

Did she come off as weird?

To pushy?

You’re popular why the fuck-

“Yeah!” You smile walking back over to her.

“Are you busy right now? We can go back to my place and study if you want” You say not breaking eye contact.

Ellie quickly breaks the eye contact handing you her phone before she clears her throat. “W-no! no i’m not busy, right now is good actually” Her voice cracks in the middle of the sentence leading her to clear her throat once again.

You grab her slightly cracked phone and nod..

“K cool, it’s not a long drive and my cars out in the front lot.”

In a car

With you.

Great!

꧁✵★✵꧂

Saying the car ride is awkward is an understatement? Reason number one, you don’t know what to say because you literally just met Ellie.

I mean you’re alright on small talk but what the fuck do you say to someone you met a solid 2 hours ago?

And on the other hand Ellie is Ellie.

She can’t pick up on small talk for the life of her. So when you finally speak it almost feels like a blessing and a curse.

“Sorry about you phone?” You say, both hands still on the steering wheel as you drive.

“Huh?” Fuck this is awkward.

“Your phone, it’s cracked. Sorry?” You say a smile cracking.

“I ran head first into your bag I’m pretty sure that’s on me” Ellie chuckles looking at you as you drive.

“I guess, but maybe if I was walking faster it wouldn’t have happened!” You say glancing over at her before you turn your eyes back to the road.

Ellie’s face turns a light pink as soon as you made split eye contact with her. She’s silently now thanking ever fucking god in the universe that you turned your head before you could notice.

“Maybe but I think that was a sign I shouldn’t walk with my head down” Ellie let’s out a slight laugh.

The silence falls once again neither of you knowing what to says.

“D-“

“Sor-“

Both of speak at the same time a dry chuckle coming from both your lips.

“You go.” Ellie says nodding.

“I was just going to say sorry for not noticing you?” You say clearing your throat anxiously.

“What do you mean?” Ellie says tilting her head still looking at your side profile.

“Like- I sat in front of you for months you know?.. just the fact I didn’t noticed you makes me feel like an egotistical prick?” You say rubbing the back of your neck with your left hand.

Ellie shakes her head at your response. “No! Fuck I barley talked, trust me, you not noticing doesn’t make me have hard feelings” Ellie says quickly, she doesn’t want you to feel guilty for anything.

You just smile at her response and nod. “What we’re you going to say?” She quickly talks “Just gonna ask do you get what the fuck is going on in class”

You quickly laugh and shake your head “Fuck no! I’m actually so ass at math your gonna have to walk me through it.” Ellie smiles and nods. “What makes you think i’m gonna be good at it!” She says with a chuckle.

“Well you have to be good at it because we’re official study partners!” You say before nodding your head. “Official??” Ellie smiles

“Oh yeah, official” You nod and continue nervously. “We’re uh here!” You park the car in front of your sorority.

“I never been to a fucking sorority” Ellie says getting out of the car with her backpack in hand. “No?” You say looking at her. “Nah” She shakes her head “They feel cult-ish?” She laughs causing you to smile and look at her “So you’re joining my cult then?”

“Guess soo” She drags out her ‘so’ dramatically before walking to the two big white doors which leads into the sorority house.

You and Ellie studied for a few hours. Looking outside the sky was now dark. Rather then the bright blue it shined before.

You guys studying was basically just an excuse to talk, you got to know a lot about each other. Ellie opened up to you, you opened up to her.

You haven’t ever had a friendship where you got so comfortable so fast. It’s like the fact you guys met a solid few hours ago, it was completely disregarded. It’s like you connected so fucking fast.

You learned Ellie had two close friends Dina and Jesse. They didn’t go to the same school as you and her, instead they went to one about 30 minutes out. You “learned” she’s painfully shy, which you already got the message as soon as she ran into you.

She let it slip she actually debated talking to you last term but you seemed extremely intimidating which you laughed at. But she was standing her ground, saying like you gave off a bit of scary vibes.

“Okay scary?” You replied laughing

“Scary!” She says looking at you. Both of your guys studying papers are far from filled out, almost completely empty. But to be fair that’s the last thing on your mind.

“I need one fucking example from when I was being ‘scary’” You say defensively looking at her. The two of you are crisscrossed on your queen bed a bit to close considering how much space the both of you had. Both of your knees touching.

“K well- I don’t have a fucking time list of all the times I thought you seemed scary!” Ellie says shaking her head looking at you.

Your hand instinctively falls on her knee “I’m asking for ONE example!” You made sure to emphasize the word one. To point out it was really fucking easy.

Ellie’s whole face heats up and she feels like her body’s on fire causing her to stutter over almost ever other word “I-I d-don’t know l-like one t-time I heard you talking about h-how you were ‘gonna murder him’” She says chuckling to mask the nervousness that’s coursing through her veins.

You try to recall when you said this, it suddenly clicking “Okay wait! No there’s context!” You chuckle and now both of you are closer. It’s like each time a sentence is said, you’re moving further in.

“What fucking context could there be!” Ellie spits out laughing, which causes you to laugh harder.

“I was talking about some dick who used one of my friends!” You laugh your head falling onto Ellie’s shoulder.

“I guess that’s fair?” Ellie’s voice gets quieter. You can her heart beat which to say it’s fast. That’s would be an understatement.

You pull your head off her shoulder and look at her. Her face is pretty pink and you feel like you can ever little detail that revolves around her face. One thing about seeing ever detail, it had a result of your faces being mere inches from each others.

You don’t even know what the fuck led you to do this but you slowly guided your left hand to cuff Ellie’s cheek which now has the both of you to instinctively lean in.

Ellie does the same, manly following your lead as her hand also goes onto your cheek and now your noses brush against each other.

And just as your lips were about to touch a knock hits right against your door.

You and Ellie both quickly flinch back clearing your throat nervously.

You get up faster then her and the person behind the door is no other then Emily. You hadn’t texted her since the whole weird ass messages she sent a few hours ago.

Ellie’s thoughts are now going all over the place. Because you two almost just kissed, a knock breaks it up..and now there’s a girl who in her mind, is way better looking!

Ellie doesn’t wanna think it, but the fact you might have a girlfriend is lurking in the back of her mind. She wouldn’t be surprised to say the least.

“Hey” Emily says eyeing Ellie who is now putting her papers back into her backpack nervously, her hands fumbling over each sheet..

“Hi..?” You say looking at Emily. She’s eyeing Ellie with a look you haven’t noticed before. And as you were going to say something along the lines of “Do you need something” but Emily’s voice talks over your thoughts.

“Can we talk” She says now meeting your eyes.

“I mean I have someone ove-“ But before you can finish your sentence Ellie intervenes. “It’s- It’s fine i’m heading out anyway. You know it’s dark..? So?”

“I- uh, alright. You want me to drive you?” You say looking at Ellie which she almost instantly shakes her head “I’m not tryna be a burden i’ll just skate back, my dorms on campus…so i’ll uh, i’ll be chill..” Ellie says grabbing her skateboard which was planted in your room. Right after Ellie grabs her skateboard she already is almost out of the door. But you quickly talk.

“Just text me when you get to your dorm, so I know you got back safe and shit.” You say softly.

And just like that she’s gone, and your standing awkwardly in a room with Emily. When the front door finally shuts she got the sudden urge to talk. “Ellie?”

You nod confused. “Uh- yeah..? We were just studying…”

Emily nods looking at you. “Why though?”

“Sorry..?” You say now even more confused then you were previously.

“Like why hang out with her?” Emily says looking at you.

You think she’s joking so you laugh sarcastically “Fuck off?”

“I’m being for real, Williams, she’s like weird dude... That’s literally all anyone talked about when she was in my class.” Emily now chuckles and you shake your head.

“She’s not even weird?” You say defensively. “Have you talked to her?”

Emily shakes her head fast “I don’t wanna fucking talk to her?? Like I said she’s weird.”

You’ve never seen Emily act so blatantly rude, like she had her own opinions but she knew whether or not she should announce them. Plus! She’s never even met Ellie yet she’s judging her so easily with no second thought. You tried to push it behind you, trying to end the conversation with a quick “I gotta go to bed so. We can talk later.”

Emily scoffs “Great! Now you’re fucking being weird!”

“Im not even being weird! You’re just being rude, i’m not gonna listen you talk shit about someone you haven’t even had a conversation with!”

Emily just shakes her head “I’m hardly talking shit shit. I’m just saying what I heard, fuck.” The fact she’s trying to justify her shitty behaviour and actions just makes you more annoyed.

“K great talk Emily. I gotta get sleep” You say before shutting the door with a hard slam as Emily gets out of your room.

It’s been a few weeks since that whole situation, Emily’s been okay? She apologized and shit but everything is still a bit tense?.. Like she lets out mini sighs when you say your going to hang out with Ellie.

You assumed this was because maybe she felt left out, but every time you even attempted to ask her she always shook her head and replied with “Eh sorta busy with homework”

So you dropped in, she was clearly going through some weird ass phase with you new friendship and you just wanted her to push through with it. You didn’t feel like guiding Emily through it all.

And then on the other hand

Ellie

neither of you mentioned what happened in your room that night, or what almost happened? It wasn’t relevant, some friends almost kiss! You two almost kissed…? And it was nothing important.

Not something to jeopardize your new friendship. So you dropped it. And you internally prayed she would too.

Ellie on the other hand. She was thinking about the moment constantly, like it was a virus infiltrating every single free fucking thought she had. She doesn’t know if the blue eyed girl was your girlfriend, but at the end of the day she didn’t wanna push the subject. You hadn’t talked about it so it wasn’t something she was willing to bring up. Seemed better to drop it!

And here you are, laying down on your bed extremely bored with nothing to fucking do. Your mind was just wondering, thinking about class, school, Elli-

There’s buzzing coming from your bedside table and you quickly grab you phone.

Ellie.

You laughed at your phone. Ellie’s jokes were actually so bad it made them funny. You kept texting her no plan of stopping, but then she tells you she has a little something!

You smile at her messages quickly following up by closing your phone. You didn’t waste time to grab you car keys quickly leaving your sorority house.

꧁✵★✵꧂

The car ride wasn’t all that bad, it was nice knowing that you’ll get to be with Ellie again. Plus it was literally only 10 minutes so when you get there you quickly park and rush to the campus dorms.

As you go into the building you take the left to the elevators, shortly entering before you click floor 2.

As it stops and the doors open and you lead yourself to Ellie’s dorm which you’ve now been in a few times.

After knocking it literally doesn’t take long before she answers..her hairs messy, a few strands down her face and she gives you a quick smile. One thing you instantly noticed was the strong scent of weed that exits her room. “You’ve been busy” you say sarcastically giving her a quick smile.

Her eyes are red and she’s clearly faded. “Soooo busy!” She says sarcastically before it’s followed by yet another smile.

You go into her room and sit on her little single bed that’s planted right in the corner of her bedroom.

She passes you an already lit joint which you take a drag from.

“I wanna ask you something?” Ellie says as she takes the joint back.

You nod letting out a short “hm?”

“You obviously don’t have to say yes” she starts dragging her words a mix of nervousness and being high.

“Okay..?” You say nodding, you don’t know what she’s gonna ask but either way you’re nervous.

“Jesse and Dina, they rent cabin every year. And like my not tryna really third wheel so I was wondering…if maybe like-?” Ellie says shifting her gaze down into her lap.

“When is it?” You ask looking at her.

Ellie’s almost surprised you didn’t immediately turn it down so she quickly clears her throat. “Fuck sorry- It’s in a week. You don’t have to com-“

“Yeah I’ll come?” You say, the high now finally clicking in. Ellie’s heart is skipping right now but she quickly pushes it down.

You two are fucking friends. Just friends.

“Sick. O-okay cool. I’ll just like text you everything you’ll need and shit. And it’s like an hour drive so me, you, Jesse and Dina can all just like fucking drive together.”

“Okay cool!” You smile.

You and Ellie. Are going to a cabin together.

Nothing to be nervous about…!

———————————————————

A/N -> Hii! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I already have a full plot layout for the second one.

This might only be two parts simply because I might be able to fit everything I want with enough detail in just a singular part.

I plan on adding some angst in the next chapter ☹️ (so ig be ready for that!)

I also wanna really emphasize Emily is not homophobic! 😭

I was reading some of this chapter and it sorta seemed implied she was at least a little homophobic, calling Ellie “Weird” and shit, but it’s not because Ellie gay! I’m pretty sure most people might be able to clue on why she’s not to fond of Reader and Ellie’s ‘friendship’ but that’ll be for the next chapter.

I hope you enjoyed!

Taglist : @bready101 @onlinelesbo @amberputh @seraphicsentences @a-little-bit-of-everybody @zoehxnji @cyb3rd0nguh @graviewaviee

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

This week we begin our farewell to two brilliant shows and welcome a newcomer. Of the shows airing now, all but one are streaming weekly on Gaga and the other is available via fansub.

Takara's Treasure

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses This was the final week for the main story (don’t despair, we get a special episode next week), and the show wrapped up our core romance arc beautifully. At its heart this is a simple story between two boys seeking connection and working up the confidence to pursue what they want without fear. We spent the first half of the show grounded in Taishin’s country mouse in the big city journey, and the second slowly peeling back Takara’s layers until we understood just how mutual their affection is. I was so impressed with the show’s steady, patient approach to revealing this character to us, and I love that through knowing and liking Taishin (perhaps even more than 100%), Takara is getting more comfortable with himself, reaching for what he wants, and having genuine moments of joy. I’m also excited for him to get to know Taishin’s family and feel some of the warmth and support he’s been missing. Looking forward to whatever glimpse of their future the show gives us next week.

Happy of the End

gif by @putterphubase

We knew this one was going to be dark, and hoo boy is it. Content warnings for the first two episodes:

Assault, child abandonment, childhood sexual slavery, domestic abuse, family violence, human trafficking, rape, sexual exploitation

We meet our main characters this week and learn the basics of their backstories (though there are still gaps that I expect will be filled in later on). Both of these men have lived hard lives, and it shows. They are not particularly good people, neither of them responds normally to the situations they find themselves in, their emotional wavelengths are often odd, and there is a recklessness to their behavior that speaks to a kind of ambivalence about survival. They recognize something in each other that draws them together, but even as they share their stories and spend time together, there are barriers between them. This story has a fairly bleak worldview, so I don’t expect it will follow the usual romance beats and I’m not counting on a happy ending. @bengiyo pointed out that the show seems to be narrated from a future perspective after the relationship ends, and @illgiveyouahint said the show feels “gently hopeless” which I think is a rather apt description of its tone.

This show is beautifully shot and feels steady and clear about its subject matter, but its themes are not for everyone. Proceed with caution, and ask for content warnings if you need them—I expect there will be difficult content in every episode. This one is dropping two episodes a week on Gaga, and there is also a fansub ongoing from @isaksbestpillow. Siiri’s subs will likely be more accurate, but I recommend at least background streaming on Gaga to make sure the show gets the official views.

I Hear the Sunspot

gif by @heretherebedork

I have already talked plenty about my current feelings of frustration with this show, so I won’t belabor the point. This week Taichi dropped out of university to go work full time at his new job despite his friends’ protests, we got a long Maya flashback and another instance of her clashing with Taichi, Kohei and Taichi continued to not say anything honest to each other as they said their goodbyes, and Kohei confessed without Taichi processing it yet again. The final episode appears to include a time skip, and then maybe they will have the conversation we’ve been waiting on for six weeks. Fingers crossed the finale makes all of this time spent in stasis feel worth it.

Note: I have to get this up early today due to my travel schedule, and at time of posting episode 7 of Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding was not yet available with English subs. I imagine @isaksbestpillow will post sometime soon and I will share when it goes up and include final thoughts in next week’s round up.

Tagging @bengiyo for the anime update.

[cecilysass]

Mulder’s Depressed Vampire Sex: Me on 3

You know, I like the episode 3. I mean, not the casefile part of 3, which is whatever whatever, but the important part: the blood fetishist lady has her way with Mulder and then he cries.

I definitely loathed the episode back when the show was airing. Back then it seemed like it was intentionally hostile to the ship—like going out of its way to be hostile, having Kristen tell Mulder shit like “I can tell you’re missing someone, but attention please: just a friend. Definitely not more!!!” I honestly kind of felt like she was looking out of the screen directly at me when she said it.

But looking back, knowing that MSR was endgame (and that fans kinda took over the narrative anyway), I definitely see the episode totally differently.

From a Mulder character arc point of view, this episode is all about him being a sad, sad boy. It is all about his depression, his hopelessness, his grief for Scully. It’s also about his drive to try to save women and girls in order to save himself. And he so often seems to fail at this when it is someone he cares about (or even when it is someone he has a fleeting connection with, like Kristen). And that’s so, so devastating for him. In that sense, this episode is a really desperate expression of his grief and frustration.

The HIV/AIDS angle to this ep is super important, too, so we have to make sure we’re getting into the full 1994 mindset on this. Mulder says in alarm to Kristen back in the club, when she’s playing fast and loose with blood: “AIDS. Aren’t you afraid?” (To which she responds that she wants to die.) Mulder knows that HIV transmission through sharing fluids is no joke in 1994 (it probably really shouldn’t be now either, but that’s not today’s lecture). Yet later, when Kristen is shaving him and he’s nicked, he allows this to be the catalyst for sex, even as he makes attempts to stop her from tasting his blood.

So his choice to have sex with Kristen is depicted as reckless, with someone who has been shown being careless about HIV. And he is doing it not just because he is turned on, but because he is being intentionally reckless with himself, clearly knowing the consequences. He shows concern for her, yes, but he’s also self destructive. He wants to fuck the hot vampire, but he also wants to fuck with death.

In other words, there’s a difference between what the episode tells us about Mulder’s relationship to Scully and what it shows us. And what the episode shows us about their relationship is that Scully is central enough in his life that everything is fundamentally affected by her abduction. He’s broken. He’s visibly depressed. He makes decisions that risk his job and his life. All the while he is actually choosing to wear her cross: a symbol that traditionally wards off vampires, as Kristen observes, but also keeps Scully’s presence in his mind constantly and in every frame of the episode he's in. And the episode ends with him looking like a hero in a romance novel mournfully casting his eyes to the hills clutching her cross in his hand.

None of this obviously communicates “I miss my work friend,” right? No objective observer would see this and say, “ah, he clearly is missing someone—most likely a friend, I would say.” But probably that’s exactly why they included Kristen’s “just a friend” line. They knew his grief in this episode was reading very powerfully, and they didn’t want it to seem overtly romantic.

I also feel like it’s kind of significant that the only time we actually see Mulder have confirmed sex with someone (besides Scully later) is when he’s depressed and Scully is gone. Linking his grief for Scully to his very-rarely-seen acting out on sexual desire like this also seems kind of psychologically sus to me, but I don’t know, I read a lot of fanfic.

Speaking of which, I did a little fanfic search for 3. And unless I am missing obvious fics (always a possibility), it was kind of difficult. Partly because this is a stupidly hard episode to look in search engines for. (No one should ever name episodes after numbers, although this one I will forgive because it’s from 1994 and they couldn’t have fully understood about Google and AO3.)

But also I just think there hasn’t been a ton of 3 fanfic, probably because this episode isn’t very well-liked. And listen, I get that Scully isn’t in it, which is often unappealing for writers, and there is Mulder/other, which people don’t like. But I feel like there are a lot of possibilities for story ideas here that don’t necessarily take place during the events of the episode. Like: how does it affect them later? Personally I like fics where Mulder and Scully discuss the events of the episode long after (actually I wrote one, which I included in my recs because I’m not that cool). I also think Mulder’s angst and depression has a lot of ways it could go—not to mention it’s the last canonically confirmed time he has sex before like 2000 or something. And it seems like AU takes on what happened to Kristen could be interesting. So what I'm saying is: maybe try writing 3 fics.

3 Fanfic Recs

Three is a Crowd - wendelah1 Mulder has sex with Kristen but can’t stop thinking of Scully.

Analgesic- settledownfrohike Mulder has sex with Kristen but can’t stop being a self-loathing, self-destructive mess. And thinking of Scully.

The Woman In His Heart - Spangle This shorter piece frames Mulder’s time with Kristen as a revelation about his feelings. Angsty and nicely observed. A 2005 Spooky winner, evidently.

False Dawn - emmbright A sharply etched portrait of how Mulder moves through his life between 3 and One Breath. For me this fills in the blanks perfectly.

Dreams - Characteristically_Exuberant This is actually a (great) post-ep for Field Trip, and the events of 3 aren’t the main focus of the fic. But I like how this author discusses what happened with Mulder in that episode and contextualizes it for both agents.

We’re Not Here To Get Involved In Personal Problems - cecily_sass This is mine, also not really a 3 post-ep; it’s an X-Cops post-ep. I feel a little silly including it. But I had them discuss the events of 3 in this fic in a way that sort of lays out my own thesis of the episode, and I thought, hey, it’s my list. Mulder and Scully walk to a gas station in Willow Park in Los Angeles the morning after X-Cops; they discuss plenty.

Any others? I feel like I probably missed some.

[rosedere]

Behind the Scenes

(Yan! Neige Leblanche x Fem! Reader)

CW: implied Stalking, non con touching, implied manipulation

-

“Aaaaand… Action”

The lights that were previously dimmed were now fully lit above you, flashing a rainbow of cheerful colors over you in a halo.

A pop-type beat began to play around you as you patiently waited for your cue to stand up. Scanning the crowds of the audience in front of you felt like a weight had dropped onto your stomach.

You knew already there was going to be lots of people because of neige’s name being mentioned, but you didn't expect the whole studio to be completely filled with hundreds of adoring fans.

“Now welcome your morning hosts—Dev and Cookie!”

On your cue, you began to smooth your amethyst dress over before you began to stand and improvise something original for the episode.

Twirling in beat to the music, letting the rhinestones on your dress catch under the light, the audience surrounding you began hyping you up as you expertly move in your random dance routine.

The two hosts walking in together hand in hand: one wore a posh office-like outfit with a silky blue and amethyst scarf around her neck, while the man had a beige and brown suit on with a matching red tie.

Finally, the two hosts reached their seats, taking a seat as scripted.

"Today we are joined by a special guest: The Prefect! Aka (Name)”

A wave of applause was heard as you smiled and waved to the crowd.

"Alright, so let’s just rip the bandaid off (name)”

"Actually, am I able to call you (name)? Or…”

“Oh no, it's alright! As you know, it’s not a secret who I am anymore,” you laughed.

"Ah, will do (name)”

Cookie crossed her legs before setting her drink on the table.

“So spill the tea (name) is it true you and Neige will be in the upcoming musical as the main cast?” She waved her pen in the air towards you.

“It’s true! Um, I'm going to be playing the love interest and Neige’s sidekick!” You enthusiastically made a punch in the air, making the fans in the audience once again roar to life.

“Neige’s sidekick?” Dev hummed in acknowledgement,

“So essential like real life, then?” 

You laughed a hardy melodic laugh.

“I will say I am ashamed to admit this in front of a huge crowd—but...”

You hung your head in exaggeration, “I wouldn't say im able to keep Sage’s island safe using a magical rose petal beam.”

A few of the crowd laughed, while others only made disappointed noises, earning a laugh from the hosts before you.

“Does that mean Neige only has an unmagical partner?” Dev leaned forward towards the marble table across from the both of you.

You froze for a second with a smile on your face.

"O-oh, no, we aren't into each other like that,” you faux laughed, “I couldn't anyway, as I'm under a certain contract that stippulates it,” your tone wavered.

Cookie and Dev paused, looking at each other awkwardly, before Cookie cleared her throat, smoothing her royal blue pencil skirt down.

Gazing into the silent crowd, you could see the different neige fans looking confused, and even a few offended fans staring back at you.

Sensing the tension, Cookie once again let her smile cross her face again.

“But in theory, would you date Neige? Rumor has it you've both have known each other since he attended RSA.” 

You gulped at the question, side-eyeing the now silent studio audience, waiting for a response you weren't sure you wanted to give.

Flickering your eyes back to the hosts, they both looked at you subtly, gesturing with their hands.

Say your line.

“I think it’d depend on what Neige wants— he does have many fans that would love a chance with the “someday my prince will come” mascot,” you smiled brightly.

The hosts both looked over at each other in confusion.

“Oh! First commercial break,” Dev clapped his hands.

“When we return, our guest star will have one more surprise guest added to the list, so don't miss out!” He waved towards the camera.

An upbeat jingle played, cueing the three of you to idly chat during the countdown.

10

“Did you forget your line, honey?” cookie whispered

9

“I-uh”

8

7

6

5

4

“Whatever that was– don't do it again." She harshly whispered

“I don't care if your shoes are on fire; We. Do . Not. Deviate. From. the. Script” she pointed to your feet.

3

“On our show, we make the rules; you are a guest on the most prestigious show in the Shaftlands,” she said, crossing her arms.

2

“You know what our viewers are expecting,” dev interjected from his crossed-leg statue.

1

“5 minutes” 

“Set the stage for Neige.”

You could feel yourself grow clammy as you watched your two interviewers leave the set for their dressing rooms, holding hands and talking as if they didn't just scold you like a child in front of the set.

“The prefect?”

You turned your head in the direction of the mousy stage crew employee who helped you on stage.

“Do you want to go to your dressing room during the break? We have to move the set before our guest arrives.”

Panic was all you felt, your tongue numb in your mouth.

Leaving meant running into him in the hallway, but if you stayed here, you’d be stuck sitting with him for five unprompted minutes with only his loyal fanbase in the audience watching.

“No need—I'll be taking my seat alongside my partner,” his fair voice echoed on the busy set.

Not attempting to turn around, you felt his hands wrap around you.

“It’s been so long (name)!” He happily chirped.

Astonished, you tried to push him off your shoulder.

"Hey, isn't that neige?” 

“Oh my gosh, their both matching! They look like their characters too.”

The eyes on you at the moment were like rocks thrown in your direction, causing you to flinch.

You only smiled at him, hoping he’d pull away from the hug.

“I didn't know they invited you neige” you dryly mused.

Neige stood next to you, eventually sitting on the arm rest of the plush chair you were seated on.

“Ah, yes, I decided to accept the invitation when I heard you were going to be interviewed this morning.” His ruby lips curled in a smile.

You couldn't possibly know who told him; specifically, remembering you begging to your agent not to utter a word to Neige about your first appearance since the beginning of filming should have been enough to get them to stay silent.

"Oh, so you were originally invited?”

“Yes” 

Neige then leaned down to where you were leaning closer to your ear.

“The only reason you were invited was because of my graceosity,” he chuckled, his breath fanning your drop-down amethyst earrings.

He then perked up, ignoring the panic stricken expression you had on your face.

“So hopefully you do well in the next interview phase! This could make or break your career.” 

“Neige– take your seat. 2 minutes until the show continues,” the tech said from the wings of the stage.

Neige hesitated before getting up and sitting in the tan chair that was now beside the royal blue chair you had been assigned to sit in.

Looking at the wings, you could make out Cookie and Dev idly walking with their dressing staff touching up their makeup.

“You see those two (name)” neige mindlessly said.

“Theyve been together since they were our age—Cookie was a weather woman while Dev was a news reporter.”

"Yeah, I know—I heard their red carpet speech.” You rolled your eyes.

Neige only smiled his usual closed-eye smile towards you.

“I hope we can be like that.”

"Maybe have a few kids like them.”

His hand began to wrap around your clutched ones on the armrest.

“Everyone ready?”

“Countdown to the next segment is about to begin.”

Cookie and Dev sat back in their respective chairs across from the two of you.

Cookies eyes instantly looked down at your hands together.

10

“Long time no see Cookie." Neige nodded

9

“Ah yes, we haven't spoken since the TV nominations," she smiled.

“It seems you got The prefect to calm down.”

8

"Yeah, they get like that when I'm not around to guide them," neige perfectly replied.

7

“You know how it is when the fame just hits and all.”

6

“Hopefully our pep talk also helped them as well." Dev nodded in response.

5

4

3

2

1

"Hi, welcome back from our break! And as promiseeeed” Cookie gestured with her pen towards neige besides you.

“Yahoo everyone!” neige waved,

The audience erupted in the loudest sound you'd ever heard; not even the award shows would get this loud for you. Some of the few faces in front were waving violently at neige hoping for his attention.

“So now, as we promised on the TV guide, it is time,”

Dev grabbed the prop tea pot on the table, pouring fake food coloring into the glass cup before him.

“To spill the tea!” the audience screamed loudly.

“We all want to know today…”

The screen behind the two of you suddenly lit to life as a magicam feed was displayed behind your chairs.

“Apparently, this morning on Neige’s own public account, a photo was posted on said account,” cookie dramatically paused, causing the audience to “ooh” and “aah” in response.

“Dev and I need to hear the details of this intimate photo you both posted,” she squealed, causing the audience to get rowdy as well.

Neige laughed before leaning forward in his seat, letting his hands rest on his knees.

“It was just a photo– It just slipped my mind that I hadn't officially announced the statues of our relationship beyond filming.”

Your fake smile was threatening to fall.

"We are, in fact, in a relationship,” he cheerfully added.

The audience began to cheer, breaking the sound barrier this time.

Finally taking the liberty, you turned around in your seat.

Your stomach clenched, but you weren't expecting to see the photo fully blown up, with 1 million views and shares under it.

You remember that night: Neige promised to take you back home after a short stop together.

Drunk, you swore you saw a flash of light as you felt Neige smear his lipstick onto your face as you tried to push him off with your heel.

But, of course, that's not what the pictures showed. 

It depicted you wrapping your legs around his white tuxedo as you placed your hands over his chest.

Trying to leave. 

“Neige…” you interrupted, causing the hosts and neige to look towards you.

“I-wasnt aware you posted such a private photo to Magicam,” you struggled to string your sentence along.

"Well, your always so camera shy, I decided to take initiative (Name)” neige then grabbed your arm, pulling you closely to him.

A few awws were heard from the audience once more.

“You were the one that wanted to be together (name)” he said, playing with your arm he was holding.

“Because I'm the prince that will save you from the evil queen,” he chuckled.

Grabbing your face to look at him, he gave you a kiss, firmly locking your lips to his.

The audience went wild.

If only they knew what role they had forced you to play.

-

Note: *in vil voice* NEIGGEEEEEEEE

Also requested by: Sallade on AO3 <3

Buckle up bc they gave me too many ideas for my skurnkly brain to run off with Hehe.

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

Alrighty! @number-one-shadisper-shipper and I binged the Knuckles series today, so time for thoughts! SPOILER ALERT.

I'll admit the show wasn't perfect. I've seen the negative reviews, and I kinda get where they come from. BUT! I did enjoy this show greatly! And I'm not here to complain. Time for some happy thoughts, y'all! 💙🤩

I think you need to have a love, not just tolerance, for the SCU in order to properly enjoy this show. I do have such, so I had a lot of fun with it.

There were definitely scenes from every episode that had me either squealing, laughing, crying, or flipping out. But my favorite was likely the first episode, because come on, we saw the Wachowski family! Most of them, anyway! While I missed Tom's presence, I was grateful for that comment from Maddie about him being "out of town," so he wasn't just gone for no reason.

The SECOND it showed our three space babies hanging out together in their room?! I SCREAMED. THE BOYS!!!!

Tails sitting on his bed tinkering with one of his gizmos, Sonic rocking out to music with an air guitar, and Knuckles exercising from one of the ceiling planks. IT'S THEM!!! They're just hanging out, doing their thing, looking oh so much like brothers. And Sonic's narration at the beginning was GOLD. 🤣💙

Even though we didn't get enough of Maddie being a parent, we definitely got a nice chunk for it only lasting part of an episode. Maddie called Knuckles "one of our kids" (that had me SCREECHING). The angry mama vibes were GOLDEN. 🤣 The way she made breakfast for them, the "Boys, breakfast is ready!" I love the normalcy of it! Can't wait to see more in the future! (Her calling to them with "boys" is somehow just the sweetest thing and I'm melting.)

The poor mailman being like "I just wanna go home, man" 🤣

We were right, fellas, Knuckles had no idea what being grounded meant. 🤣 Although the way Sonic piped up with "Oh, I definitely know what it means," has me suspecting that Sonic himself has gotten grounded a decent amount before. 😂

Knuckles trying to talk back, and Maddie going, "ExCUSE ME?!" then just making those tiny, terrifying noises and Sonic being like "Bro don't mess with Mom when she's mad" (okay, he didn't say "mom" and that made me sad, but the mom vibes were 110% there so I'm here for it). 😂 And since Knuckles snuck out and later Wade said, several times, "Aren't you grounded?" seems to confirm that this entire show is basically what Knuckles does when he's grounded. 🤣 Although ... his comment about not being able to be grounded because he had no home made me very sad. 😭

I did not have an issue with so much Wade screentime! Sure, he isn't my favorite SCU character, but I love what this show did with him! I'd already seen his moments in the movies (like nearly shooting Robotnik in the face with an actual handgun). I like how they gave him actual family issues; a dad who abandoned him and his family, a realistic sister, a mom. Bad family memories. Awkward reunions. They could've made it a joke, but they didn't, and I greatly appreciate that. Especially since I've witnessed firsthand how painful family separations can be. 😔

All the emotional talks Wade and Knuckles had caught me off guard in the best way! The way they talked about their different family issues, the way they talked of betrayal from friends, and being left alone, hit way harder than I was prepared for. Especially that talk they had at the burger place in the middle of the night? Oof. Good talk right there.

Also, even though they took a "show don't tell" take with it, I loved how Knuckles relaxed more and more throughout the show. In the beginning, he couldn't rest, he couldn't sit back and have a genuine good time. But the more he hung out with Wade and his family, the more he learned. He learned about music and found "his jam" (that was literally amazing btw). He watched movies with Mrs. Whipple and ate snacks in the hotel room in Reno and watched more movies. He had his teenager moments of rolling his eyes and rebelling, but he was so well portrayed here, I loved it. I felt for him.

Despite the bizarre nature of the episode "Flames of Disaster," (we were cracking up so hard) I'm trying to glean bits of the truth of Knuckles's story from the crazy musical play that Pachacamac put on in Wade's dream. I mean, "Longclaw" and her tribe were there, and ... what the heck was that giant demon thing?! Iblis?! Does our Knuckles Wachowski have an actual history with freaking Iblis?!?! 😱🔥

I was deeply intrigued by the two main antagonists, especially at the implication that G.U.N. did seem to exist before the events of the first movie?! Did it exist, get disbanded after the Maria incident, then get reformed?! My brain is exploding. 🤯 I was even more shocked that they apparently died? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, the Wachowski kids don't seem to have much qualms about getting rid of the baddies for good as the game versions do. That was a terrifying phenomenon, what happened with the two rings. 🫣

And then the Buyer getting crushed by the giant glass ball 👀

Although in those last two episodes, I admit I was freaking out and legitimately near tears at Wade's seemingly having to "betray" Knuckles. Before the reveal that all was in good communication, all I could think was how relaxed Knuckles finally seemed, chilling in the hotel room, being excited about whatever Wade wanted to "show" him, questioning whether it was a song, him declaring that he was going to bring his favorite hat, 🥹 all I could think was of their previous discussions about betrayal from friends and family, and when Knuckles called Wade "my friend" right before the elevator doors closed, I just about sobbed. I was like "please, don't let him be betrayed, don't let him have come all this way and relaxed so much only to get 'betrayed' once again by someone he's come to consider a friend." 😭 We heaved a HUGE sigh of relief when it revealed he was aware of the trap the whole time. 😪

Maternal instincts went nuts when he got so badly hurt in that final battle 😭 I literally reached for the screen several times and was right back to almost weeping 🥲 And someone tell me I wasn't the only one noticing the parallel in that scene with Wade standing in front of his unconscious body the way Tom did with Sonic in the first movie. That, PLUS Knuckles's epic comeback, and his retrieval of his own power?!?! EPIC!!!!

The ending was abrupt, sure, but the pure joy on Knuckles's face after everything as he jumped up to high five Wade was just too sweet. 🥹

So yes, even though I would have loved just a little more, a return to Green Hills, a reunion with Maddie, Sonic, and Tails, I adored this show. It was a wild ride, full of laughs, tears, excited screeching, etc. 💙💛❤️ I don't care what anyone says, nothing will make me hate it.

[13as07]

Motherhood #1

(Kakashi Hatake)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Garajiru]

Requested by: Myself

Keys:

None

[Idea inspired by Criminal Minds - Garcia and Derek; Season 8, Episode 11]

Word Count: 3,979

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

None

———————————————————————

My whole body aches as I walk across the grassy field of the Third Training Ground. I'll never understand why Kakashi insists on training so far away from the main parts of the village. Well... I do understand. Despite how he comes off, he is a very sentimental person.

Pain sizzles across my rib cages, a side effect from littered stitches across my skin. I'm never going to hear the end of it when Kakashi finds out.

I should wait until he's done training with his students. I know he's a personal guy and I get it, especially with our line of work, but I want to see him. The burning need for him has been clawing at my heart for the past week. That burning only grew once the stab wounds registered in my head, and somehow became even heavier as needles were being threaded through me to close my wounds. He's going to be pissy or at least off his game when I find him, but that's okay. I know he'll smooth himself out.

As if the universe wants to apologize, a mix of 'why's', groans, and 'Sensei!'s fill the meadow. I can feel a smile perk up at the sounds.

I've heard a lot about my husband's little genins; Sasuke the Uchiha boy who shows great potential if he could get over his attitude, Naruto the chakra-packed spaz-ball who dreams of being Hokage, and Sakara the kunoichi with impressive chakra control who's just a little too distracted by Sasuke.

My smile only grows as the big blob of my husband and his three little blobs fall into my sight. The yellow and orange blob - I think that one is Naruto - is bobbing up and down. What a cute little jumping bean; well jumping blob.

Despite the burning across my sides, I hurry up my pace to get to Kakashi faster.

Once I can make out the details of my dotting husband, the burning in my heart starts cooling off. God, I miss him so much when we're apart. The seemingly unreachable retirement in our future sounds so good right now.

"Calm down, guys. It's just a progress exercise," Kashi's voice rings out, paired with the soft clinking of the bells wrapped around his belt loop. Before I left he mentioned redoing the bell test with his genins to check how they've improved. I guess today is the day.

"Oh, come on Kakashi-Sensei! Do you have to? We all know I'm already the best, do you really have to double-check it?" Blondie whines as he messes with his headband. That is definitely the spaz-ball.

"Being less sucky than Sakura doesn't make you the best," the raven-haired boy mumbles, arms crossed over his chest as he glares at Naruto.

Sasuke's eyes catch me for a second before he glances at his Sensei for guidance. Said Sensei hasn't caught wind of me yet, curtsy of his back being turned towards me with his students facing the both of us.

Sakura's face sinks at her crush's words before a closed-eyes smile crosses her face. "I think it'll be fun to do the bell exercise again, Sensei!" When her eyes snap open, they catch on me too, just like the Uchiha did a second ago. Unlike the boy though, her face scrunches up as she stays focused on me. "Sensei-"

I jump forward, arms wrapping around my husband. I immediately regret it when my stitches come into rough contact with Kakashi's vest. A pain-filled whine slips out as I bury my head between his shoulder blades. "That hurt," I whine again, softly digging my fingertips into his stomach.

"Then maybe don't do that," Kash teases, his smile slipping through his words.

My head lifts before falling back down, softly headbutting his back. "Don't be mean."

A soft chuckle fills the air, spilling out from my husband. The sound fills me with warm, the good love-filled kind instead of the longing kind of heat. "My little crybaby," he mumbles, shifting in my hold so my head is against his chest instead of his back. "Why are you being such a crybaby?"

"I'm not being a crybaby," I bite back but it comes out as a pout instead of the strong 'don't fuck with me' attitude I was trying to have.

"Aww, now you're being pouty," he continues to tease as his hands slide under my shirt.

Despite his teasing tone, everything else about Kakashi is serious. His hands are soft and nimble as he rubs them over my skin, checking for new wounds from my mission. His eye repeatedly scanning me, looking for obvious wounds and any sign of real distress.

"I might have had a not-so-perfect mission," I mumble, glancing behind him at his students. They're all looking at each other in confusion, hushed whispers - and Naruto's failing attempt at being quiet - being passed between them.

     "What does that mean?" Kashi asks, his fingers light as he comes into contact with my wrappings.

     It's taken some practice, but I can see the small cracks in his calm composure. His eyebrows are ever so slightly pushed forward, jaw locked almost unnoticeably under his mask, eye slightly wider than normal, and a drop of worry hidden in his words. From an outsider, he'd look as calm as ever, but not to me. I can see the storm brewing under it.

     "I was stabbed a couple of times but it's not that big of the deal. No casualties and my squad came out less harmed than me, so over all a good mission."

     Another slip of composer; his fingers stiffing a bit as he dips them under the bandages. "I can't believe you were stabbed," he whispers, face inching closer to me so I can pick up on the soft volume.

     I feel bad about not being able to wait to see him. I know it's difficult for him to keep his composure when I'm hurt, and even more difficult when we're around people because he's worried his composure will slip.

     "I got stabbed in my vest," I mumble back, wrapping my hands slightly around his arms before I stand up a bit straighter. I use the extra height to nuzzle myself against his cheek. "It's just a couple of stitches, I'm okay."

     "Why don't they make better vests?" Kash mumbles to himself more than me, his focus on his hands as if he could see them through my shirt.

     His breath has picked up too, fingers not so light as they cling to my wrappings. My poor anxiety-filled husband is getting into his head way too much. "They're not stabproof. It's like when your watch gets wet and stops working. That's water resistant not waterproof. They need to make our vests knife-proof. They should-"

     "I... am... fine..." I breathe out, following each word with a kiss. First to his reviled eye, then to his cheek at the edge of his mask, and lastly, a light one against his masked lips.

     "I know but-"

     My hands dip further down his arms, tugging my shirt up gently so the edge of my bandages is exposed. "See? I'm fine?" I tease a bit, dipping my head behind his ear before pressing another soft kiss into him.

     When I fall back into place, Kakashi's eye is dancing over the edge of my wrap, fingers lightly dancing over my skin again. A barely visible pink pokes out from his mask. My partner might be a very composed man, but he's still a man. One that falls victim to the shaping of my waist, especially when it's empathized by a skirt or crop top; or bandages in this case.

     "It's just a couple of stitches," I repeat before dropping my hands back to my sides, my shirt following pursuit.

     "How... how, um..." Kakashi's flustered state is adorable, the pink getting deeper and his eye still locked in please even though his favorite sight is gone. "How long do you need to be taped up like this?"

     "I don't know. A couple of days maybe," I answer, letting my own eyes wander over him. I'm as pleased to look over Kashi's body as he is to look over mine; though his v-line is my favorite part.  A soft hum comes from him, his body going back to his actual calmness instead of his fake composure. "You relaxed now?" I tease, pulling away from his touch.

     "Ya, I'm relaxed now," he husks out, stepping forward in a slow attempt to chase me.

     "Sensei!" All three of his students call, pulling my husband back down to Earth.

     I think he missed me as much as I missed him. The thought makes me happy, tugging another small smirk to my face.

     "Students!" He calls, eye going wide as he looks at me. Perhaps Kakashi doesn't want me around his students because I'm too much of a distraction. Oh well, one day of distraction won't hurt. "Students," he repeats, turning away from me to face the children he's responsible for.

     "Sensei, who's the cute lady?" Naruto asks, his eyes wide as well as he looks over me.

     "Um..."

     "You can call me Mrs. Hatake!" I chirp out, sidestepping Kashi so his students can see me better.

     "She's not even that good-looking," the little emo boy says, rolling his eyes at Naruto's compliment.

     "And you're not as badass as you think you are," I respond, tone still chirpy as I smile at the Uchiha.

     "Maybe let's not insult Sensei's girlfriend," Sakura pipes in, sending a glare at her heartthrob.

     "Wife," Kakashi corrects, a small smile on his face. My heart jumps a bit at the word. I don't think I'll ever get used to him calling me his wife.

     "Wife?!" They all call out, surprise on their face as they look at me.

     "Wife," Kashi repeats, tugging his glove off his left hand before grabbing at mine. He holds up our hands, showing off our matching wedding bands to his students.

     The bands are basic but cute; black with blue lightening strips through them. Gai teases that Kakashi had them made this way to mimic his Chidori as a fail-proof claim to me. I don't mind the teasing, I find it adorable that Kashi wants people to know for certain that he's my husband. What better way to do that than marking me with his personal ninjutsu?

     "You... are married to someone like that?" His kunoichi asks, face scrunched up in disbelief.

     "Is that supposed to be an insult, Sakura?" Kash asks, his face still covered in a smile as he wiggles his glove back on.

     "No, you're just so..." she makes another face, causing a laugh to brew in my chest. "And she's so pretty."

     "You're pretty too, Sakura. I like the color of your hair," I answer, sending the kid a compliment back. Her face shifts to a smile instead of the previous face of disbelief. Good, I'm making a good impression on my husband's students.

     "You know Sakura's name?!" Naruto asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

     I hum a yes, turning my attention to him. "I know your name too, Naruto, and I know Mr Moody over there is Sasuke."

     Naruto - somehow - beams even more with happiness, and Sasuke's face scrunches in disapproval. "How do you know our names?" The ball of chakra asks, his in-place bouncing shifting to actual bouncing.

     "Because she's a jounin, duh. Do you ever use your head Naruto?" Mr Moody asks, paired with another eye roll.

     "Actually, I'm just a chunin. I'm not as skilled as your Sensei," I correct, sending Naruto a soft smile of reassurance.

     "Like a C-level chunin or a B-level chunin?" Sasuke asks, his attention finally caught.

     "Usually B-leveled but I do take C-level missions on occasion."

     "You just got back from a mission, ya?" He asks, body language opening up some. I'm three for three in the student department. That is a solid win.

     "Yes, I did. Maybe we can talk about it over some food, hm?" I gently push, sending Kakashi a sheepish smile. I know he's going to give me what I want; he always does, but I should have asked him privately before bringing it up to his students.

     On the other hand, Kakashi is out of his groove so I'm sure his students are out of a training mindset as well. Some food would help set them back on track, maybe. Probably not, but I want to get to know his students a little more. After all, they're a big part of his life, which makes them a big part of my life.

"Really?! Can we, Sensei? Can we? Can we? Can we?" Naruto cheers, running circles around Kash as he pleads.

"Alright, alright!" He calls, stopping Naruto in his tracks. "We can take a small break and go eat at Ramen Ichiraku, but as soon as we're done eating we are doing the bell test. Y/N can't wiggle you guys out of that," Kashi answers, sending me a warning look, telling me to not even try to stop their testing again after we eat.

"Yes!" Naruto cheers, darting in the direction of the village's main road.

Sasuke rolls his eyes again but follows after his squad mate, his pace notably slower than Naruto's. Sakura follows suit, trying her best to get Sasuke to promise to sit next to her. He is having none of it though, at least not until Naruto offers to sit next to her. Then he seems a little more interested in the offer. The little Uchiha boy takes after his Sensei more than he knows.

—————————————

"That sounds so cool," Naruto yells around a mouth full of noodles. I'll have to send Iruka a passing comment about his kid's lack of table manners. Despite that, Naruto is still adorable and the cutest little fuzz-ball I've ever met.

"Didn't feel cool when I was getting stitched up," I reply a small chuckle following my words.

"If you can take the cut, you can take the stitch," Kakashi teases despite the tighter grip he has on my hand under the table. Mr. Play-It-Cool isn't as laid back as he's pretending.

     "What about you guys? You just got back from the Village hidden in the Mist, ya?" I push gently, trying to change the subject. I can almost hear the 'thank you' brewing in my husband's throat, even if he'd never voice it. The relaxed fingers tangled in mine are enough of an approval. "That must have been fun."

     "It was alright," Sasuke mumbles, chopsticks messing with his noodles. Little Moody isn't as good at playing off his emotions as his Sensei.

     "You got your second tomoe, right?" I try again, turning my focus to Sasuke. He's a closed-off one, just like Kakashi... and his brother.

     The Uchahi's eyes go a bit wide before his full attention is on me. "Um... ya, I guess."

     "You guess? I feel like that's something you would know."

     "I did, ya," he mumbles before turning his attention back to his bowl.

     "Well, that's quite the accomplishment. Your father would be proud."

     I should not have said that. Sasuke's grip on his chopsticks tightens, head snaps back up, glare directed at me, as he pushes himself to his feet. The stool he was standing on clinks to the ground, making Sakura jump. It would be a cute scene if the Uchahi didn't have murder in his eyes.

"And what do you know about my father? Nothing. Just like you know nothing about me, so stop trying to be a mother hen. I don't need you to be one, neither does Naruto or Sakura, so knock it off. And while you're at it stop pretending you know anything about the sharingan too, cause you don't."

     A soft smile sits on my face as I look over Sasuke. He reminds me so much of Kakashi, right down to the similar anger they have. The only difference is I managed to get Kashi to process his anger for the death of his loved ones.

     "Are you done?" I ask gently, ignoring the feeling of Kakashi repeatedly squeezing my hand under the table. That, and the stare he's burning into me.

     "Yes," the Uchiha hisses out, eyes squinting in anger.

     "Well, first, information on anything - sharingan included - is available at the library. Second, your Sensei has a sharingan so I know a good deal about it. Third, there's a difference between me wanting to get to know you and me wanting to mother you. Fourth, I did meet your father quite a few times before his death so I can say for certain that you were one of his pride and joys."

     "Oh," is the only answer I get back, but I don't mind since it seems my speech worked. Sasuke is still a bit on edge but his body language relaxes a bit before he picks his stool back up. I'll count that as a win. What a little spitfire.

The feeling of Kakashi's hold on my hand tightens again, pulling me out of the situation. I turn my attention to him, being met with a soft masked smile. Flowers of love blossom in my chest at the sight. God I love this man, and our little make-shift family. Maybe Sasuke is right, maybe I am accidentally trying to mother my husband's students.

—————————————

"Hatake!" A voice rings out, pulling my attention away from Gai. I've spent the day helping him train his students, aka being an example dummy for new taijutsus he wants to show his genins. It's not all bad, he promised me dinner to "ease my bruises".

"Yes?" I call back, glancing at Gai and his students before turning towards the noise.

Gai's mini-me - Lee - is beaming with joy as he races past me. "If it isn't my greatest competitor for Sakura's heart!" He yells, falling back into his defensive pose. I swear this new generation of Shinobis is just packed full of energy.

     Sasuke makes a face at Lee before turning his attention to me. "Sensei wants you," he murmurs before turning in his heels.

I shoot Gai an apologetic smile before heading off after the Uchahi. It's funny watching him trying to stay a step or two ahead of me. Given, that it doesn't last long, him falling back to a normal pace.

Most of the walk is uneventful, nothing more than silence and eye daggers being thrown at me. "I don't like you," Sasuke finally says once we get to the outer fields of the village.

"Well, I don't like you either," I shoot back, trying to keep the smile off my mouth.

Once again Sasuke makes a face, this time in surprise instead of disgust like earlier. "You can't say that to me."

"And yet, I did," I answer, letting the smirk settle on my face.

"You have an attitude problem."

"I'm copying you, so maybe you have an attitude problem."

Another face, this time leaving him as the spitting image of his mother. It's always surprised me how much Sasuke looks like his mom. Will Kashi and my child look that much like me? Or take after their father? I hope they at least get their father's Shinobi skills. Though, children can't be something I think of right now. Kakashi has his hands full as is.

     Once again silence falls between the genin and I, but this time it's a comfortable silence instead of the anger brewing one from before. As we walk, Sasuke occasionally bumps into me, his nose scrunching up each time followed by a couple of side steps away from me. Despite his efforts, the little Uchahi keeps hovering back to my side and continues to bump into me. It's good to know under all the brewing, Sasuke is still a child.

     "Look!" Naruto's voice echoes across the empty field, his blob coming into view again. "Lady Hatake!" He screams, dragging out my Clan name as he races across the field, Sakura in tow but she's screaming for Sasuke instead of me.

     "Naruto!" I call back, bracing myself for impact. Despite my preparation, I still end up taking a step or two back when Naruto's body collides with mine. His limbs stab into me in a few different places, bones colliding against my own along with my stitches. I suck in the hiss of pain trying to slide out as I hold on to the small boy.

     "Naruto," Sasuke hisses out, dagger eyes back on his face. "Be careful. Hatake is still hurt, dumbie." An eye roll is paired with the end of his sentence, along with a disappointed tongue click.

     "Oh, right. Sorry Lady Hatake."

     "It's all right," I hum, straightening the boy before letting him go. "What are you guys working on?"

     "Chakra control! Which I'm doing awesome at, by the way," Sakura answers, a proud smile across her face. I can't help but smile too at how proud she is of herself. My husband does have some good genins.

     "Hello," Kakashi's voice rings out, pulling my attention away from his students, but not for long.

     "Nah-uh! You get her all to yourself all the time Sensei, wait your turn!" Naruto barks, a sorry attempt at a glare on his face. "Guess what Lady Hatake!"

     "What?" I ask, glancing down at the chakra ball before looking back at my husband. He's beaming - well beaming as much as he lets himself outside of the safety of our house.

     "I tried a new ramen last night!"

     "Oh ya?" My empty question is followed by a twenty-minute conversation about some spicy ramen Naruto tried. It's also filled with Sakura reminding him that he's stupid and Sasuke's disapproval being openly shared.

     "Okay, that's enough about your dinner, Naruto," Kashi pipes up, cutting Naruto off. "You can have her back in a minute. Go... see who can hang upside longest." He mumbles, shrugging towards the tree a couple of feet away.

     "It's totally going to be me," Naruto cheers, running off towards the tree.

     "No way I'm going to let you beat me!" Sasuke yells, dashing after his squad mate, Sakura hot on his heels.

     The thought of children crawls back into my head. I already adore Kash's students, I can only imagine how much I'd adore our children.

     "Hey, Kash-"

     "Love-"

     Silence follows our accidental overlap, before being chased away by both of us chuckling. "What were you going to say?" I ask, soaking in my husband's appearance. No matter how many times or how long I look at him, Kakashi is always the most handsome man in the world.

"I think we should go to dinner tonight," he answers, glancing at his students. As ordered, all three are hanging upside down like bats. Though, Sakura looks tired so the competition will probably end up being between the boys.

"Why's that?" I ask my attention also on the genins. My chest bubbles with joy as I watch the boys try to tug each other off the branches.

"I want to talk about having a baby."

"What?" The word is torn from my lungs as my head flips back to Kakashi.

He's stood there, arms crossed and a faint smile under his mask. "I want to have a baby." He repeats, my head spinning a bit. Maybe he's more prepared for a child than I thought.

"Kash-" I start again, but end up getting cut off for the second time today.

"Naruto is cheating!" Sakura yells, waving her hands around to try and get Kakashi's attention.

     "I'll see you tonight. Naruto! Knock it off!" My eyes trail after him as I watch his path toward his students. The idea of motherhood seemed so lovely a second ago, but now? It's terrifying.

———————————————————————

[therealslimshakespeare]

Dear John | Unsayable Things

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

I banged this out in an hour or two, past midnight, deep in my feels, half chatting with my baby @stylespresleyhearted who put in the initial request for this series and who is now owed a few choice lines herein. If you wanna stew in the pain of Friday’s episode- this is the angst fest for you. With a tiny bit of hope at the end. Tiny. But it’s there.

Summary: months after one drunken letter of horny (and gentlemanly) admiration was sent off by one John Egan to Miss Lana Tierney of Hollywood fame, a written rapport has formed between them, based on a refreshing freedom to be perfectly frank and even trivial in their letters -a tone set by his inarguably appaling initial correspondence. But until today, he’s never dared make use of the number she gave him to dial when he needs to say unspeakable things.

Warnings: angsty as hell? morose and possibly suicidal thought processes? it’s Egan after THAT phone call so, I imagine you can envision that it’s not exactly a stable mentality portrayed here-in.

Masterlist

Date: October 1943

The hotel lobby is as chilled as an ice box with those front doors constantly revolving, letting in gusts of autumn air that’s suddenly turned harsher than he recalled when he stepped out into the daylight this morning. His ride back to East Anglia won’t be here for another two hours and no amount of charm or haggling can get him the petrol to make the journey on his own. It’s a carpool sort of life now, every man, woman and child in Britain knows that but every minute he stays in the great metropolis feels like a betrayal to those boys who just got-

-he will get back in time.

He vowed it, he arranged it, now all there’s left to do is wait until it can be enacted. John was never good at waiting but now all the activities and pastimes he’d once relied upon to fill a slow hour seem intolerable. Imbibe any more booz and he’ll be unfit to fly, seeing the sites could get him more sights than he’d like, polite conversation makes him want to scream in the face of the next passer by that he’s lost something precious today -don’t they know? -and it would be just his luck today of all days to get answered by someone who did know, some parent with a dead child, pulverized to bits while he fucked his demons out.

So John keeps his mouth shut in a stern line and stares venomously ahead at the charming little Renoir hung in the lounge. No one has troubled him yet and by the spooked face of the desk clerk who offered him a menu, he dares to think he won’t be in future.

He is sick to death of it all, of the death itself and the brave faces and the lack of bravery he suddenly feels now and the necessity of it all. He hardly recognizes the hollowed out sinner he’s become with a head full of too many griefs to even formulate a prayer.

He was close to catatonic, eyeball deep in his self abhorrence, when he realized he was spinning round the little lacquered card she had enclosed three letters ago.

“If you ever need to say those unsayables, here’s a private line. Don’t call it if you don’t want me to answer, only you, my mama and my hair stylist have it. Xoxo, Jeanie.” 💋

The unsayable would be to call one of the most successful, desirable and busy women in the world only to admit John Egan has run outta words. But with the mounting desire to do something stupidly productive, and without the kind fist of a friend to dissuade him -he knew walking in front of busses wouldn’t get him any closer to Thorpe Abbots- a starlet’s withering rejection just might do the trick. Just might hurt enough to slice through the fog. His fingers were sweating as he spun the rotary, thumbnail tracing the underside of her extension.

God knows it would be unlikely to get through even the first connection, much less get overseas, much less find her at her home. What time of day was it back there anyway? And this entire conversation would get bugged to hell, he’d have to be careful and this was a terrible idea to start with and-

“Hello you,” the airiest voice he’s ever heard warbles over the static, teasing and warm, “I’ll admit it, that lilac did nothing for my color last night. You win, I’ve got the front page of the Whisper to confirm, please, don’t rub it in.”

John stares out of his little alcove in the lounge with watery eyes, mouthing a silent -what the fuck- to himself before recalling the obvious: only her mother, her hairstylist and him. With this line, Jeanie -or should he call her Lana on the phone?- didn’t expect a stranger. This was an anticipated call and he about hangs up in mortification at not being what she expected.

But then, the hollow idea of one and a half hours of waiting for the ride catches up and John recalls that he had in fact phoned in order to be humiliated and he was a rare sort of chump to take so poorly to a plan gone off to so dazzling a start.

“Can’t imagine a shade that wouldn’t suit you.” he finds himself saying smoothly, the flirtation on autopilot.

He can hear an audible gasp on the other end of the line and a breathy sputter and what might be sheets rustling, or perhaps it’s a dress or paper or-

“JOHNNY?” she all but squeals and he winces at the blare of the receiver in his ear, the flinching crinkle of his blue eyes not without some pleased merriment at her unabashed excitement. “This you? Finally you used it, you silly old thing! Oh gosh, oh gosh say something again, your voice is divine! Oh, I can’t believe I’m finally talking to you. I thought you were my mother! Oh say something! You’re there, aren’t you? Johnny?”

She sounds so pleased he finds his eyes smarting and suddenly this feels like the worst idea in the world. He needed her to be harsh, to fit with every other disillusionment that’s rained down on him this past month, instead he’s met with -care. His stomach roils and not even the mean suspicion that she’s putting on an act can make it calm. “Well, I’m finally somewhere I don’t have to share a line with the whole group.”

“Where’s that, Johnny?” She sounds as eager as if he’s got a lot of options.

“London.”

“Oh!” There’s a waiver to her voice, he’s not sure why, but either way she sounds unsure if she should be merry or sober. “Business or pleasure?” she inquires levelly and it’s got all the sultry teasing he’s read into her scrawled writing hundreds of times, John finds himself flushing despite the morose sentiment that comes up right behind it.

“That, well, uh, that uh“ he picks at the sleek paint on the phone base and questions whether he’s going to use precious time on the phone with the hottest dame on planet earth to throw a pity party, “-I think the intention was a rehabilitation for the nerves. Ironically the guy who suggested it is now toast.”

“Oh John.” she sounds wounded and he bites his lip in savage pleasure at hearing what he wishes he could feel. “Was it -was it someone close?”

“A couple hundred, more like.” he sulks, his jaw ticking so hard he might break a molar if he keeps on. “But yeah. Yeah today was-“ he tries to think of the censors and that makes him laugh at the thought of all their previous filthy correspondence making it through but some slip of the tongue about a dead friend could land them in the hot spot, his following laugh is snotty and he could gag at himself for it.

“Johnny, darling man, are you-“ she shifts course and he holds his breath, depending on her for something, he doesn’t even what, “-does this happen to have something to do with our duet’s harshest critic?”

He smiles at her cleverness, she’s not a complete airhead then. And she recalls Buck. Of course she does, she hasn’t stopped sending him kisses via Egan’s letters even though she didn’t recall meeting either, not even when John had sent back photographs of the both of them to jog it. The flow of correspondence hadn't stalled despite this strike out and neither had the morale boosting glamor shots of certain of her assets which John kept locked in the false bottom of his footlocker and one small one folded in in the hollowed heel of his boot.

_“keeping it handy for the emergency tug off?” Gale had scorned him but Egan liked having her with him._

“Yeah, Shirley Temple- he’s been uh, he’s been traded, ya see.” Egan manages the metaphor once more and winces at the truth it hides.

He hears Je-Lana?-Jeanie?- suck in a breath on the other end. “Gosh. John. Any sign of, of-“ she begins to stammer, “of chut-“

-chutes, she’s going to say. John coughs loudly into the reviver and her voice trails off in recognition of his warning. “This was a mistake.” he decides, “I just -you can see why- I just thought I’d like to hear a-a-a voice, a-“

“A friend!” she replies eagerly, “I’m here, I’m here don’t go, not yet, not unless you have to, Major. Are you waiting? You’ll be wanting to get back, no? Or will you be staying on? In London?”

“I’m not staying.”

“Of course.” she whispers, “I’m so terribly, terribly sorry.”

His grip on the receiver has turned white. “No,” he decides, “I’m the one who’s sorry. Bringing this up, never even talked to you before and I go and make it this the call. Pretty girl like you doesn’t need this.”

“I told you to call.” she reminds him gently, “And Johnny, I’m ever so happy to hear your voice, I’ve imagined it a million times rereading your letters and looking at your photographs. I can concede that my imagination failed.”

“You reread them?” he is amused.

“Yes. Don’t you reread mine?”

“Mhmm you bet.”

“Gosh your voice gives me shivers.” she whispers into the phone and he feels an odd rising of the hair on the back of his neck. “Are you having to beat the London women off with a baseball bat?”

“I just let ‘em swarm.” he admits and she makes a noise of intrigue, “I was with a widow last night.” He blurts. “Polish. We watched the bombs from my hotel room.”

“How relaxing.” Without missing a beat Jeanie’s soft tease comes through, “Did the one balance the other for the nerves?”

“I’m dehydrated and hungover.”

“And grieving.” she adds.

That’s an unsayable. “I just needed to talk to someone.” he decides.

“Did she not speak English?”

He’s gone this far, he might as well be honest. “She didn’t know Buck.”

“Mm.” She makes a mournful noise of assent.

“I-I’m tryin’ not to do something stupid Jeanie,” he hates how his voice shakes but to her, it sounds more like rage than fear, “and I thought if I could hear your voice I’d -id get some peace. And wait for my ride without bustin’ up the Carleton.”

“Yes, I forbid you to bust up the Carleton without me, Major.” she warns and his pulse leaps at the simple direction, it’s a joke of course but it lodges heavy and wanted in his chest. “Promise me, Johnny, one day we’ll cause a great scandal there, you and I?”

“Miss Tierney,” he bites at his lip, “it’s a kindness for me not to make promises. To girls -to anybody.” She’s got to know that, she’s just being nice. “Especially not to special little ladies with nice long futures ahead of them.”

“It’s Turner, actually, Miss Turner if you’re going to be so formal.” She corrects, not a single part of her name Hollywood hasn’t meddled with. “But you must know, it’s far too late for that John. I miss you like mad.”

“We haven’t even met.” he reasons.

“What, and you don’t miss me?”

He curses under his breath fondly and shrugs. “I adore you.”

There’s a beat of silence in which he thinks he may have blown it by being so gushing but in fact, Jeanie finds herself milking her throat to dislodge the lump of painful glee settling there.

“Then you do whatever you have to, Bucky Egan,” she commands him, imperious but fervent, “you punch and get punched and drink as much as you need and bed as many girls as it takes and go after Buck-“

“-hold up, how’d you kn-“

“-but you come home. It’s much too late to tell me not to get my hopes up. You’re all I dream about anymore. There’s got to be some future for us, there’s got to be, Johnny, I’m not asking you to promise I’m asking you to try. Do what you’re good at.”

The pause is long and heavy and Bucky thinks he hears her sniffling on the other end. Unmoored by the unprecedented honesty he’s receiving and the juxtaposition of being someone’s risky bet for happiness when just this morning he’d come to resign himself to letting go what could only ever be a passing night's comfort- “Hell of a business.” he finds himself repeating.

“But you’re the best at it.” she retorts, “So stay the best.”

Everything certain, everything he thought was a given got blown to hell with Gale’s plane today. “Used to tell him if everybody else went down it’d be just him and me. I believed that.” He mumbles into the phone, turning to tuck his neck into the device like it’s the soft crook of her neck, “Now to be the best- that’s just me, and charred Europe under me and no one else in sight. That’s what you’re asking? ‘Cause that’s how this ends.”

The sun is shining bright and brutal in California, a cheery morning to mock her cocktail hangover and now she thinks it’s to hurt him as well, everything is so far removed an ocean away. Such bleakness is hard to even fathom for her, but the man she’s come to know, to love even, on paper is hoarsely spilling his guts to her over the phone and she’s not sure what one says to such a prediction. Her agent hovers in the doorway, the angry swats of her hand not sufficient to deter him from fretting with the press conference approaching. “So what, this is a suicide note?” she winces as soon as she says it but honesty has always been their currency.

“No.” he replies at long last and her shoulders sag. “I thought- i just wanted to hear your voice once before I go up again, Jeanie.”

“And I’m glad you called.” she swears, “And now I’ll have a voice to go with all the wicked things you do in my dreams.”

“Oh fu- Jeanie that’s unfair.” He balks and she grins at the little victory.

“Alls fair in love and war, Major.” She reminds, “Now tell me, do you want to tell me about him? Buck-“

“No, fuck no!” he hisses, angry at himself, “I wanted to talk to you to forget. I wanted to hear your voice.” He repeats it like an idiot.

“Then tell me,” she soothes, unphased by his outburst, “what would you like to hear in my voice, Major? The latest score? Perhaps the front page of the Times? They brought it in with my toast. Or some dirty line from one of your letters? I’ve got them here under one of Salinger’s books. They’re safe from the fiancé there, he’s a complete ignoramus with a phobia for learning.”

Bucky chuckles at her unabashed derision for her hotel scion intended and grins at the idea of her sleeping so near to his scrawled professions of lo- obsession at the very least.

Love is another unsayable.

“Just -tell me about your day, sweetheart?“ he begs, hoarse with the need to teleport elsewhere for the remaining forty minutes of his wait.

“If you’re sure.” she sounds only mildly skeptical, “It’s been very loungey, rather frilly.”

“Perfect.” he sighs, closing his eyes.

“Well, it’s actually morning here so I haven’t been up to much,” she begins and he feels guilty for just dialing away, damn the timezones, “I’ve not even dressed.”

“What color are you wearing?” he begs before he even realizes it.

“White.”

Hey sucks his teeth and nods approvingly. “White what?”

“A silk top and- no! Go away Herbert, for the last time!” Some interruption seems to occur on her end as a man’s voice comes through in snatches and Jeanie’s raised one drifts through the hand she’s cupped over the receiver, “Herbert, for the love of God, I am talking to one of the men protecting our country, the reporters can wait!”

Jeanie’s snappy loyalty soothes some raw edge he’s felt since watching *her* leave this morning without more than a kiss. “Reporters, huh?” he sympathizes, fully ready to give her an out.

“You’d think they’d have enough to report, there’s a war on.” she seethes and he has to smile again, “Anway, where were we? Oh, my pajama shorts.”

“White.”

“Yes Johnny, white.”

“Send me a picture?”

“Awfully demanding for a man who hasn’t even promised me he’ll try to live and see them in person.”

John puffs out a laugh at being snared so easily. “Alright, I’ll try.”

“Promise?” Her voice sounds so small.

“I promise.” He’s dazed by the shift, how did he end up being the one begged by Miss Hollywood herself? Perhaps he’s still drunker than he thought.

“It’s all any of us can do, Johnny,” she says, “but we’ve gotta try. You got your pinky up?”

“What?”

“For your oath- pinky swear.”

“You're not even here.” he laughs.

“I’ve got mine crooked, come on Major, meet me halfway.”

And so John Egan finds himself sporting a watery, helpless grin as he lifts his finger into thin air and crooks it around her imaginary little digit. Her sigh sounds as if she can feel it a ocean away. Perhaps he’s gone fully looney in the way he thinks he can, too.

He doubts she’ll appreciate his choices in the next few weeks, maybe even doubt his intention to keep his oath, but what matters is he’s going to try. Even if it’s an angry, furious, blind sort of determination, it keeps him firmly out of the London bus lane until Hobbs and his transport arrive and then it’s goodbye Jean Turner, hello again Thorpe Abbots.

Taglist: (I’m sorry for tagging y’all twice in a single day, oops)

@stylespresleyhearted

@ab4eva

@earth-to-lottie

@suraemoon

@blurredcolour

@steph-speaks

@crazymadpassionatelove

@rubyfruitjungle

@taestrwbrry

[owl-with-a-pen]

Outside of superhero emergencies, Kara didn’t tend to lean into her super hearing where she could avoid it. Girl’s night at her apartment, for example, definitely shouldn’t have called for it. Then again, she wasn’t usually the subject of discussion in just about every apartment block on her street.

So, maybe that wasn’t completely true. She’d certainly heard her name mentioned a lot more since the whole secret identity reveal thing; it was just, nowadays, instead of hearing Supergirl, it was usually Kara Zor-El.

She was used to it. She’d been used to it for years; her name was normally a hot topic days, if not weeks after a major save was broadcast. The only difference now was… not all of those voices were as positive as she’d come to expect.

Like right now, for instance. No matter how hard she tried to shut it out, she couldn’t help but listen for that same voice echoing from hundreds of homes across the city, streaming from earbuds, speakers and laptops alike. His voice was charismatic and quick, like a less polished Maxwell Lord, and while he may have been a nobody just a few weeks ago, he’d certainly gained enough traction now to give Kara one hell of a headache.

Unfortunately for her, she’d inadvertently tuned herself in at just the right time for her downstairs neighbour to hit play:

“Alright folks, if you missed our last episode I’ll catch you up to speed. Last week, we rounded off at the crux of the Supergirl Problem; that she hasn’t just been living in our midst this whole time, but that she’s been actively working as a journalist for CatCo Worldwide Media. And, just a few weeks ago, she was publicly put in charge of the editorial process for that same media outlet minutes after she came clean about her alter-ego to the world. And, as I doubt Supergirl will want to speak for herself on the matter, we have one of her self-proclaimed super-fans in the house today to speak on her behalf. Say it with me at home folks, debate me, Supergirl!”

The aforementioned ‘super-fan’ let out a surprised scoff at her introduction. She didn’t waste a minute of her airtime, jumping immediately into the conversation: “Well, for starters, I think you’re taking this whole thing out of context. Supergirl didn’t just become a journalist for CatCo overnight. If you knew anything about Kara’s story, you’d know that she worked her way up the food chain for years! I mean, how empowering is that? She started as a PA!”

“Yeah, a PA with superspeed, how difficult. No wonder she ended up in Cat Grant’s palm! And yes, I do know her origin story, thank you very much.” The host’s voice crackled as Kara imagined him relaxing into his microphone. “Let the audience not forget that she was a PA for Cat Grant before she became a journalist. Are we really going to pretend that wasn’t her foot in the door?”

“Cat Grant wasn’t even her boss when she got into journalism,” argued the young woman. “And by the time Kara made a name for herself, Cat wasn’t even leading the company anymore! She got to where she is now on her own merit, no one elses!”

The host spoke over her: “It begs the question, did Cat Grant know this whole time? She takes a sabbatical only to re-emerge just in time to offer Supergirl a promotion. On top of that, she’s been promoting Supergirl for years! She created her – her words, on record. And now she’s put her in charge of media distribution. Get this: Supergirl is now in charge of the media we consume. Isn’t that a little self-indulgent?”

The young woman didn’t back down. “Kara Danvers was a Pultizer winning journalist long before we found out who she really was,” she argued. “She’s been standing for truth and justice just as much as Supergirl has. In fact, she’s just as much a hero as—”

“But what’s the agenda here?” the host continued with a conspiratorial air. “How can we even believe the news now it’s being headed by a liar? And she did, didn’t she? She lied to us all! She had a secret identity this whole time, and what? We’re just supposed to accept that? What’s the bet that this story will make a headline at CatCo magazine tomorrow morning, with my comments made out as Supergirl’s latest villain story? Or, better yet, will I be Kara Danver’s first official nemesis?” He barked out a laugh into his microphone. “There’s no freedom of the press anymore, folks, not when CatCo is bias towards the very hero that made it so popular in the first place!”

Before she could hear any more, Kara was thrown from her super-eavesdropping rather unceremoniously when a hand shot out in front of her face, waving impatiently.  

“Earth to Kara,” Alex said, snapping her fingers in front of her sister’s nose. “Hey, anyone home?”

“Huh?” Kara said before screwing her eyes shut, swatting away Alex’s offending hand. “Hey, hey, stop that!”

It was only then that she realised that it wasn’t just Alex who had been trying to get her attention. Lena and Kelly were staring at her from the opposite sofa. Nia sat cross legged on the footstool by the coffee table, nursing her drink with an expectant expression.

Kara glanced lamely at the TV. It didn’t look like anyone had been paying attention to the movie for quite some time.

Just how long had she been…?

Kara tried not to cringe.

Kelly cleared her throat, smoothing her hands over her lap. “From your expression, I’m guessing you were listening in on something pretty important.” She hesitated. “Is everything okay?”

Kara’s eyes widened. “What? Oh, oh no, it’s not a superhero emergency, I swear. Girl’s night continues uninterrupted, I promise!”

“Okay,” Nia said with a slow smile. “Then what was with the—” She mimicked Kara’s spaced-out expression a little too well, earning a few grins at her expense.

Kara pursed her lips. “Uh—I mean. It was nothing. Just…” She sagged in on herself awkwardly. “Okay, so I may have been listening to this podcast…”

“Oof.” Alex winced. “You don’t wanna do that.”

Kara groaned, falling back against the sofa. “I’ve been trying not to, but it’s kinda hard when half of my building’s listening to it.” She rubbed aggressively at her ears. “Super hearing can really suck, you guys.”

“Wait,” Nia said, perking up. “Are you talking about the Debate Me, Supergirl podcast?” When everyone turned to stare at her, she shrugged. “What? Brainy’s been keeping tabs on all social channels for this stuff ever since your interview first went public, y’know, calculating the odds on them picking up any real traction. In case things go… south.”

“And what are the odds on this guy?” Alex asked seriously.

Nia made a vague gesture. “I mean, until a few days ago, Brainy had him in the unlikely category. But his latest interview with a Supergirl stan got a whole lot of attention on social media. They were basically at each other’s throats the entire time.” She took a mild sip of her drink. “People ate it up.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Of course they did. And I’m guessing from your tone, not much of the audience were on this super – uh – stan’s side?”

Nia pulled a face, taking an even larger swig.

Kara groaned again, burying her face in her hands. “This is awful. I- I just can’t believe how little faith they have in me now that they know the truth!”

Lena smiled her sympathy. “Take it from someone who was once deluded enough to fall right into that same category of hatefully ignorant.” She toasted her scotch glass to no one in particular, swirling its contents with a gentle twist of her wrist. “It’s not easy for people to accept that their larger-than-life hero was living amongst them.”

Kara’s head shot up in protest. “I never wanted anyone to put me on a pedestal.”

“Want has nothing to do about it. Like it or not, they did.” Lena paused, tucking her legs into the sofa’s arm. She fixed Kara with a level look. “Kara, I say this as your friend, but you have to understand how powerful you are in the eyes of a regular citizen. You fly, you shoot laser beams from your eyes, you’re bullet proof and fire proof. Your power is limitless and even though this city has seen you fall, they’ve also seen you get back up time and time again.”

Kara bit her lip. “That part I can understand, but it’s not just that. This podcaster isn’t only targeting my Supergirl persona. It’s Kara Danvers, Kara Zor-El that they don’t trust.” She snorted, throwing her hands wide. “They think the fact that I’m working as CatCo’s Editor-in-Chief makes the whole platform inherently bias. And – yes – I know I’ve fought my own biases in the past, and it’s not like being impartial was what won me a Pulitzer, but to them— a superhero in the press just doesn’t appeal. They think I’m a fraud, that I’ve been manipulating public opinion.” Kara could feel her face begin to flush in frustration. She ran a hand through her hair, standing just to put her energy somewhere. She slammed a fist against her palm, taking a step around the coffee table with every beat. “But, I mean, don’t they remember how CatCo turned on Supergirl after the Red Kryptonite incident? And rightfully, too. I lost the people’s trust then, and now—now it’s happening all over again and I just… I don’t know how to win them back,” she laughed through her teeth, “or if I can win them back!”

Alex took Kara’s arm swiftly as she passed her by, tugging her to her side. “Hey, no one said this was gonna be easy.”

“I think those were Cat’s exact words, actually,” Nia said helpfully, pointing in Alex’s direction.

Kara huffed, anchored by her sister’s steadying hand. “Yeah? Well, they didn’t say it would be this difficult, either.”

“Don’t listen to a few angry voices,” Nia insisted, her voice sobering. “They aren’t worth your energy, trust me.”

“Are they just a few?” Kara asked grimly. If she tried hard enough, she was sure she could still tune into hundreds of versions of that same podcast playing from across the city. Whether they agreed with him or not, the people of National City and beyond were listening to this nameless podcaster, and that was dangerous enough on its own.

Nia smiled tightly, balling her knuckles against her lap. “Just don’t listen to them, okay?” She closed her eyes. “Look, people like to make a lot of noise when they feel like they’ve been lied to, but the truth is, they were never entitled to that information to begin with. When I did my Dreamer interview with you, a lot of people were so supportive; some of them even saw themselves in me, but there were always hateful voices that tried to drown out the positive ones.” She straightened her back, opening her eyes. “But, y’know, they make that much noise because they know they’re in the minority, and they do not have the power that they think. Putting it into perspective like that… it’s a lot easier to ignore them, especially when I know how many people I’ve helped by sharing my story.”

“You’re right,” Kara said softly. Because she was. Of course she was. A single podcast spouting a single negative view didn’t diminish everything good that had come out of Supergirl’s identity reveal. Yes, the celebrity-level thing took some getting used to and openly flying to work made her something of a spectacle when it came to the office situation, but for the most part, Kara was relieved to have that weight off her shoulders, and it was a joy to know just how many aliens felt more confident to live as themselves now that they knew Supergirl had also shared their struggle.

In truth, the world knowing where she had come from, who she had been ever since she’d landed on Earth, grounded her to the people in a way that had never struck quite the same as just Supergirl. And that was worth any amount of growing pains.

Kara reached out for Nia’s hand over the coffee table, squeezing tight. “Thank you.”

Nia’s smile softened. “Any time.”

Lena cleared her throat, shifting higher against her pillow. “And, as for your job,” she said with a sly smile of her own, “let’s just say I know a thing or two about the public coming for your throat, deeming you unworthy of the position you’ve fairly worked your way up to. It’s just like Nia said, you ignore it, Kara. You ignore it because you have nothing to prove to anyone, you’re already doing one hell of a job as a journalist. Remain honest with yourself, and eventually people will see it. Not everyone of course.” She tilted her head, raising her glass to her lips. “You’ll never have everyone’s approval. If you did, well, I’d say you were on another planet, because that’s certainly not how the human race are wired.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Nia chimed in, leaning up to clink her glass with Lena’s. She caught Kelly’s glass on her way back.

Kelly smiled fondly, though there was a strained edge to her expression when she said, “We’ve all had to work twice as hard to prove ourselves. And as much as it hurts, that extends to Supergirl as well.”

Kara sat back down with a sigh, leaning into the embrace that Alex readily offered her. “Cat once told me the same thing; right after she’d first claimed Supergirl, actually.”

“Exactly,” Alex said with a sage nod. She kissed her sister’s hair. “And, hey, Cat Grant won’t let a podcast beat down her creation. Hell, her empire is built on powerful women, it always has been, always will.” She gestured to everyone in the room. “You are all prime examples of that.”

Kara nudged her sister playfully, pushing out of her arms. “Hey, well, the amount of times the DEO has personally kept that building from crashing to the ground, I’d say you’re an honorary member of Cat’s empire, too.”

Alex’s nose crinkled. “I think I prefer the title of badass DEO leader, but I’ll take it.” She grinned, rolling her eyes. “The point is, you have us, Kara.”

“Yeah.” Nia beamed. “And our opinion is worth a million times more than some crappy podcast.”

“Oh, cheers to that, too!” Alex laughed and they all converged with their glasses, meeting with a raucous clash over the coffee table.

Cheers rang out all ‘round, and Kara let the simple joy of that moment infect her. Their combined laughter easily blotted out any chances of hearing another word from that podcaster’s mouth.

She'd lost the taste for eavesdropping, anyway.

[radiant-reid]

300

him in cult episodes >>>>

Summary: Reader recalls something Spencer told her months ago when he’s taken hostage by a cult (based on 14x01)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst/fluff)

Content Warning: mentions of most of spencer’s trauma

Word Count: 3.4k

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Everything’s a mess.

Y/n’s used to the BAU lifestyle, and today is not the first day a team member has been abducted. It’s not even the first time that it’s been Spencer’s life in danger. Last time it was a three-month-long nightmare that seemed never ending during his time in prison.

It was different now. After what he said, everything between them changed.

She’s not expecting anyone when Spencer slides open the door to the balcony, and she whips her head around to see him.

It’s late in the evening, and she’s escaped the ground floor of Rossi’s mansion, where everyone’s partying, to a quieter balcony upstairs. Cicadas chirp in the spring night air, and there’s a faint beat of the bass of the music from downstairs. Rossi lives far enough outside of DC that the stars are bright, shimmering in the dark sky.

The balcony has a comfortable outdoor couch and armchair, perfect for sitting there and tuning out the world. She needs to do that. Spencer, her fellow BAU team member and friend, has been out of prison for a month, but the stress hasn’t dissipated completely. If she thinks about it hard enough, she’s back sitting at the round table while Penelope reads over an arrest report from Mexico, feeling completely helpless.

“There she is.” He greets her with a kind smile.

His smiling is something she seriously missed when he was away. “Hey.” She replies.

He holds out her jacket that she’d left downstairs, helping put it on her shoulders. “I thought you might be cold up here.” He explains the thoughtful gesture. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, not at all.” She shakes her head, nodding to the armchair she’s not occupying. “Sit, please.”

He accepts her offer eagerly. Then he follows her eyes out over Rossi’s perfectly maintained yard to the sky. “Wow.” He comments.

She hums at his tone. “I know.” She agrees. “Has everyone else gone home?”

Spencer shakes his head. “No, but they’re onto karaoke.” He informs her, laughing before his following statement. “Very alarming sounds.”

She chuckles slightly. He wouldn’t believe it, but he’s funny. She appreciates their time together more now, having gone without it for three long months.

“They’re missing out on your singing.” She jokes, smirking at him.

It’s mostly in reference to karaoke at The Benjamin all those years ago, where they sang all night long. It seems like a long time ago, and so much has changed, but despite what he’s been through, Spencer’s glow never diminished. He’s still the guy who somehow knew how to deliver a baby when he needed to.

“They don’t need to hear that.” He assures her, chuckling. “Again.”

“I thought it was great.” She admits or teases: she’s not sure which. “A highlight was Bohemian Rapsody.”

He cringes, shaking his head at the foggy memory. “I was hoping by then you’d had enough to drink.”

“Oh, I had.” She assures him, earning a confused look from the genius before she reminds him of something he had happily forgotten. “Hotch videoed that whole night.”

Spencer does something he rarely does then, sharing the feelings in his big brain. “I miss him.”

Y/n does too. She’d never missed someone more than she missed Hotch when Spencer was in prison, knowing that his skills as a prosecutor would have been insanely helpful.

“Me too. I’m happy he’s spending time with Jack, though.” She reminds them why it had been his time to go. “The kid deserves it.”

Spencer agrees, but he doesn’t feel the need to say anything, so they sit there in silence. It’s the most peace he’s felt in a long time.

“Y/n?” He asks, briefly getting her attention when she turns to look at him.

“Mm?” She replies, prompting him to continue.

It’s now or never. He draws in a deep breath, preparing for what he needs to say. There’s been so much weight on his shoulders for the last month, and this confession will lift some of it off. One thing he’s learned since prison is that he needs to say what he feels before it’s too late.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He admits, voice wavering slightly. “I think I was always meant to be in love with you.

There’s a beat of silence. And then another. One more.

She’s taking the information in at a slow processing speed, and the words don’t reach her mouth.

He takes it as his answer. He didn’t tell her expecting anything, like her to love him back, just to feel lighter, which works. “I just- I need you to know that.”

She should kiss him. It’s the right thing to do. Not right as in socially acceptable, but right for herself. In her heart, she’s meant to be with him and now is the perfect opportunity. A literal confession spoken to her. There’s no room to worry about him not returning her feelings and their friendship souring. He’s in love with her, and she can’t reply.

More silence, and he decides that it’s getting awkward. He spirals about making her uncomfortable, so he stands up, walking back to the door. “Good night, Y/n.”

She wills her legs to work, to run after him and catch him on the stairs, eagerly jump into his arms and kiss him like she’s wanted to do since she met him in front of Rossi’s expensive artwork. 

She doesn’t.

It’s what she’s thinking about on the jet. Maybe it’s selfish when everyone else goes over where the cult could have taken him, but she’s replaying that evening. How his hand felt when he grazed her bare shoulder, the sound of his shoes as he shuffled away, and how sweet the air tasted that night compared to the bitter resentment she tasted after she didn’t follow him.

“He told you the truth, huh?” JJ asks, sliding into the seat across from her before she even notices someone’s focus on her.

“You know?” Y/n asks in reply, slightly shocked. Sure, they’re best friends, but she didn’t expect Spencer to be spilling his romantic feelings about a colleague to JJ.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know for so long.” She remarks, met with a confused look from her friend. In her mind, Y/n had assumed Spencer had been in love with her for a few months, maximum. “He’s been in love with you for years.”

Her heart sinks in her chest. Is it wrong for her to feel warm? Knowing Spencer’s out there alone- hurt, from what Penelope said- it seems inappropriate. “He has?” She repeats. 

“Since he met you.” She answers before amending her speech. “Maybe a week or two after.”

So about as long as she had loved him. And she might never get to tell him. 

She can’t help but think about how she might stand over his casket and cry next week, wishing she had told him that night, back when everything was perfect.

JJ sees the panic, how her face goes pale, and she reaches out to touch her friend’s arm. “He’ll be okay.” She promises. She has to have that faith, too, if she’s going to be able to function.

Y/n nods, willing herself to keep it together. “I know. Let’s get him back.”

She must have spent most of the flight before JJ came to sit with her in shock because soon the plane’s landing, and they’re in SUVs driving to the cult’s compound.

Her heart races in her chest, pulse thumping once they arrive, and Emily initiates the infiltration plan. They’ve got to be quick and quiet, knowing the cult will claim Spencer as their 300th victim without being talked down. To them, his being there is a decade in the making. It’s spiritual, and there’s no way they’ll let him go. 

He’s completely tied up onto a structure, standing upright, when she gets a peek at him, his hands strapped by his side, legs tied, and a band wrapped around his head to keep his head in place. It’s very sacrificial with The Messiah and Agent Meadows standing around him. 

He’s bruising, too, red marks around his face that will develop into a deep purple. She can’t see into his mind, but she wonders if he’s formulating an escape plan because he looks like he’s accepted it, conceded defeat, and come to terms with dying. Even from far away, his eyes are watery and his breathing steady, like he’s finally admitted to himself that they’re not coming to save him. 

It’s easily the most terrifying expression she’s seen on anyone’s face. It’s bone-chilling.

They move in quickly, knowing he has seconds, not minutes. Y/n dashes to Spencer with JJ, the cult members around her getting shot or arrested being blocked out of her mind. 

His face softens when he sees her, fingers flexing as she and JJ untie his restraints. When his hands are free, he falls forward onto her, clutching her tightly, one arm over her shoulder, one under. 

It’s the tightest she’s ever been hugged, his grip making her feel like she’s his lifeline and he’s coming back to life. He pants out a breath like he hasn’t breathed since he was tied up. His hands spread out on her back, he buries his chin in her neck, and they rock side to side. 

“Y/n.” Spencer whispers, closing his eyes and focusing on holding her. “You came.”

“Of course.” She replies. “Always. You good?”

“Can I have another minute?” He asks, practically begs. Even if she’s not his, he needs to hold her for a bit longer before he can’t ever again.

She squeezes him tighter, assuring him it’s okay. “Always.” She repeats. 

It feels like it’s just the two of them, despite the chaos behind her. She takes in his cologne and how right it feels to be comforting him. Her feelings for him are much more straightforward in her head than they were that night at Rossi’s. 

His breathing calms down, so it’s not erratic hyperventilating, and he loosens his grip around her, more than ready to get out of there now that he feels alive and whole again. 

She loses him after that, keeping some distance while he hugs everyone else and thanks them in true Spencer fashion. There isn’t an opportunity to talk to him when they’re on the jet home since Emily is. She just sits and watches him, reminding herself that he’s okay.

She can’t stop thinking about his expression from the cult compound when she saw him, how unafraid he looked despite knowing he was about to get sacrificed. Maybe he knew they were there, like something deep inside him told him he’d be okay, but he looked prepared to die.

There are more hugs when they get back to Quantico, Penelope practically unwilling to let him go or out of her sight. The case has to end, and exhaustion falls over them when the adrenaline wears off, despite a new day dawning. 

That night, she runs after him like she should have done at Rossi’s, barely making it to the elevator before the doors shut. 

He looks surprised to see her. “I thought you went home.” He says.

She couldn’t. She’s not sure she’ll be able to leave him in the BAU ever again. “I didn’t.” She reports then immediately feeling like an idiot because that much was obvious.

“Why?” He asks caringly. 

“You were still here.” She admits honestly, looking up at his gentle brown eyes. They’re always more golden in the morning.

“I just had to do a psychological counseling thing.” He explains.

Her eyebrows furrow, confused about why someone would make him do that only hours after he was saved. “This soon?” 

He nods. “Damaged goods.” He says, like it’s his label. And he fully believes it. 

“You’re not.” She firmly tells him, mostly angry the FBI would subject him to something invasive so early.

“Y/n.” He says in a tone that sounds like he’s begging her not to sympathize with him falsely. 

Y/n shakes her head, eyeing him with fiery irises as she dares him to continue speaking negatively of himself. “You saved yourself, Spencer.” She informs him sincerely. “Are you hungry?” She asks.

The change of topic disorients him, but it seems a better conversation than arguing over how much of a mess he is. “Starving.” He answers. He didn’t have much time to think about it, with being abducted by a cult, but he hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, if you can call a packet of chips lunch.

“Do you want to get breakfast?” She offers before quickly retracting any implications her suggestion could have. “Unless you just need some time alone or don’t want to hang out with him. I won’t be offended.” She wants to tell him, needs to confess what she should have before, but he’s in such an emotional state that she would hate to take advantage of that.

She couldn’t get further from the truth. Spending time with her, specifically, has always made things easier. “I’d really like that.” He admits, sending her a soft smile. 

They barely speak on the drive into DC. There’s a lot of tension in the air, words left unspoken, but Spencer needs time to look at her. He’s at a point where he knows nothing will happen between them, but there’s still a life he imagines when he needs a quick spike of dopamine. She, and an imagined future between them, is his drug of choice now.

He orders pancakes, copying her, rather than getting his usual meal of eggs, bacon, and toast. He ditches coffee in favor of juice, knowing he’s going home to sleep after breakfast when the rest of the adrenaline wears off. 

No deep conversation gets brought up at breakfast, either. Instead, there’s laughter, and every time she looks up at him, Spencer smiles. 

He’s used to going home alone after any trauma in his life. Even after prison and Mr. Scratch, he returned to an empty apartment. After he was abducted by Tobias Hankel, when he got out of the hospital after getting poisoned by anthrax, and even after he got shot in the neck in Texas after Alex dropped him at home, he was by himself.

It’s better with someone else -he decides while they’re sitting there- because he can not think about it in favor of thinking about her.

He eats like he’s been without food for a week, even getting a refill of juice, although everything he’s been through would make anyone hungry.

And he pays, despite her telling him she would, so she drives him home through the traffic-less streets, thanks to everyone being at work.

He hesitates before he gets out of the car once they arrive at his apartment. “Do you want to come up?” 

She accepts, following him up the stairs. It’s a good time to do it, now that they’re alone and in private. 

His apartment is lighter than when she saw it when she went with Penelope once to water his plants while he was in prison. It’s neater with the curtains open, and he might have added even more books to the impressive collection she previously noticed.

Unsure of how long she’s staying, Y/n takes off her shoes on instinct. Spencer’s not sure why he invited her up other than wanting to spend more time with her, so he’s not sure what to do now that she’s there. 

She speaks before he can offer her water. “Were you scared?” She asks before realizing the insensitivity of her question. She doesn’t want to sound like a shitty Bureau psychologist, just his friend, haunted by a snapshot in her mind of his expression. “I just mean... we were, and Penelope was when she came. JJ was because you’re her best friend. You weren’t even shaking. Sorry I didn’t-”

Spencer cuts her off before she can spiral. “I wasn’t. Not when Penelope was safe.” 

“Why not?” She asks. It makes sense, his wanting to protect Penelope, but she can’t understand why he wasn’t scared when he was moments away from death. She’s thought about it enough without coming up with an answer for it to be necessary to ask. 

“Because, Y/n, what I told you that night at Rossi’s.” Her breathing hitches at the mention of the best, or maybe one of the worst, nights of her life. “If that’s the last proper, non-case-related discussion we have, I’m okay with that. I couldn’t die without you knowing I love you.”

She shakes her head, eyes tearing up at the confirmation of his acceptance of dying. “There’s more for you than that.” She says, hoping he knows it. 

He does. 

He’s got three perfect godsons, he’d love to go back to Paris, he’s always wanted a family, a wife and a big house, there are still books he hasn’t read, there are still sequels being written, there are classes yet to teach and profilers yet to train, there are chess games to win and to lose, and old friends left to see. 

They both know his life isn’t close to be finished. 

“You knowing is what mattered.” He repeats. “Right from when I realized I wasn’t going to get out by myself, I knew it would be okay since you knew.”

“It wouldn’t be okay!” She says a little too loudly, close to crying. “You can’t be okay with that.”

There’s more in her head, and he’s reluctant to push her to find out, but he does. “Why?”

She sighs, feeling small standing there in front of him. “Because if you died, I couldn’t have told you I love you.” She reveals one of her deepest fears that she hadn’t realized until recently. 

“Oh,” Spencer says, jaw going slack. He’s rarely speechless. “Recently or...” It’s the only thing he can think to do: establish a timeline.

“For a long time.” She admits. “I just- I froze that night. I couldn’t say it, but I felt it.” 

He senses the apology that’s about to spill and shakes his head. “It’s okay.” He believes it when he says it and walks closer to hold her hands in front of her. She’s surprised by the contact, but it’s nice, even if his hands are slightly cold.

For a moment, they just stand there, and she admires his gorgeous cheekbones and those honey-colored eyes that make her weak when he looks at her so intensely.

He doesn’t rush his next move. Slowly, he drops her hands and cups her cheeks, smiling softly. Then he leans forward, giving her what she’s been waiting for for a long time. His lips are soft on hers like he’s testing the waters, giving her a chance to pull away before pouring passion into it. She matches his pressure while basking in the glow of kissing Spencer Reid. Spencer Reid, who loves her. 

They share a matching fond look when they pull back. 

Then he’s laughing, and it’s the cutest thing in the world, along with being confusing. The slight, amused frown on her face causes him to explain. “You love me, and I love you.” He says like he can’t believe it. “Wow.”

She knows that reaction from when she had it at Rossi’s, and he looks adorable experiencing it, grinning so hard his face might split. For a long time, he’s wanted to be loved by someone romantically, and now he is. After everything he’s been through, Spencer thought it wouldn’t happen, and for the first time in his life, he’s glad to be wrong.

“What are you doing today?” He asks when he’s collected himself.

“Well, I was going to go home and sleep.” She answers, wondering what he’s going to suggest they do while knowing she could be persuaded into almost anything by him.  

“Sleep here.” He says quickly. “Not like that.” A blush fills his cheeks. “If you want. Then we could go to dinner, lunch, a movie theatre, or the park, wherever you want.” 

She’s nodding before he finishes. He could ask her out on a date to watch paint drying in his spare bedroom, and she would eagerly accept. “Yes.”

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[hookhausenschips]

Episode 6: Heartbeats and High Speeds

Main Menu

Summary: On the electrifying night of qualifying, Y/N unexpectedly encounters F1 stars Max, Charles, Carlos, Lando, and Oscar, who decide to escort her to the garage, drawing media attention and complicating her plans. After a successful qualifying session, she invites them to experience her world of street racing, showcasing her skills and leaving them in awe as they bond during a wild night of racing and celebration.

WC: 3.5k

Warnings: Language, Mature Themes, Drug/Alcohol Use, Risky Behavior, Romantic/Flirtatious Situations, Adrenaline, & Thrill-Seeking

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

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The night of qualifying had an electric charge in the air. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation—fans lined up, crew members rushed about, and the buzz of the media filled the paddock. I made my way through the gates, fully expecting to slip into the McLaren garage quietly. But, of course, nothing in my life ever seemed to go as planned. 

As I turned the corner, my steps slowed. Five figures stood casually by the entrance, waiting like they didn’t have anything better to do on the most important day of the weekend. Max, Charles, Carlos, Lando, and Oscar. What in the world were they doing here? 

I blinked, unable to hide my surprise. “Okay, what’s going on?” 

Lando’s grin was almost too big for his face. “Well, good evening to you, too!” 

Charles strolled over, looking like he owned the place. “We thought we’d escort you to the garages today. You know, make sure you get in safely.” 

I raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced. “Uh-huh. I’m pretty sure I can walk a hundred feet on my own.” 

Carlos chuckled, crossing his arms. “We like to make an entrance.” 

I smirked. “Well, you’re doing a great job of that. The cameras love it.” 

It was hard to miss the paparazzi lurking nearby, their cameras snapping away. Their lenses were mostly pointed in my direction. Great. I could already see the headlines: *Mysterious Girl with F1’s Finest—Who Is She?* 

“You guys realize this makes things way more complicated for me, right?” I said, shooting them a pointed look. “Thanks for that.” 

Oscar gave me an apologetic shrug, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Sorry... we didn’t really think that through.” 

Max, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered by the media attention. “You’re with us now. They were going to notice sooner or later.” 

“Fantastic,” I muttered under my breath, though I couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. “You know, I could’ve handled this without the whole entourage.” 

Lando’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “But where’s the fun in that?” 

I shook my head, suppressing a laugh as we headed toward the garages. It was crazy—this whole situation. I hadn’t planned on getting involved with these drivers, but somehow, they’d become a part of my life.  

Once we reached the McLaren garage, I stopped them before they could disperse. “Alright, guys. You want my good luck charm for today?” 

They all turned toward me with varying degrees of interest and amusement, not quite sure what I meant. I grinned, stepping up to Carlos first. 

“Pole position doesn’t come easy, Sainz,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder before leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. His skin was warm, and the light scruff on his jaw brushed against my lips. “Make it count.” 

Carlos smiled, a mix of surprise and amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’ll try not to let you down.” 

“Oh, you better not,” I teased, tapping his chest lightly. “Or I’m taking the luck back.” 

Next was Charles, who was already grinning, clearly anticipating his turn. “No pressure, right?” he asked, looking down at me with those teasing blue eyes. 

“No pressure at all,” I echoed sarcastically, stepping up to him. “But don’t mess up, Leclerc.” I kissed him on the cheek, letting my lips linger for just a second longer than I intended. 

Charles raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “With that kind of motivation, how could I?” 

“You’d be surprised,” I replied, giving him a playful shove. 

Max stood a little off to the side, his arms crossed, watching the whole thing with a faint smirk on his lips. “You think I need luck?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble. 

“I think even the best drivers need a little help every now and then,” I said, walking over to him. 

Max raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest as I kissed him on the cheek. His skin was warm, and I could feel the tension in his jaw. When I pulled back, he was looking down at me with those piercing blue eyes. “I’ll take it, but only because you insist.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just try not to hit anyone out there.” 

“I’ll do my best,” he said, his tone dry but the hint of a smile on his face. 

Lando, of course, was practically bouncing on his feet by the time I got to him. “I’ve been waiting for this all day!” he said, turning his cheek toward me dramatically. 

“You’re ridiculous,” I muttered, though I kissed him on the cheek anyway. “Good luck, Norris. Don’t make me regret this.” 

He winked at me. “I never disappoint.” 

Oscar was last, standing there with a shy smile on his face. I could tell he was trying to play it cool, but the slight flush in his cheeks gave him away. I stepped up to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

“For the rookie,” I said softly, smiling at him. “Go show them what you’ve got.” 

“Thanks,” Oscar mumbled, looking a little flustered but managing a grin. “I’ll do my best.” 

With their good luck rituals complete, they all went off to their respective garages. I stayed behind in the McLaren garage, taking a seat with the engineers as the session began. Watching the cars zoom out onto the track, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that came with racing. It wasn’t street racing, but there was something about the precision and speed of F1 that was just as exhilarating. 

As qualifying unfolded, my eyes were glued to the screens. Carlos was dominating, securing pole position like it was nothing. Charles wasn’t far behind, landing in third. Lando surprised everyone by finishing fourth, while Oscar had a rough session and ended up in 17th. Max, surprisingly, wasn’t in his usual spot—he finished 11th, which would definitely make for an interesting race tomorrow. 

When qualifying wrapped up, Will, one of the McLaren engineers, grabbed my arm and practically dragged me to the barrier. “Come on, Y/N! You have to be here for the celebration!” 

I laughed as I stumbled along with him, joining the rest of the McLaren crew as they lined up to celebrate with Lando and Oscar. The noise was deafening, cheers and shouts filling the air as the drivers passed by. Lando flashed me a grin as he walked by, and I couldn’t resist giving him a quick hug. 

“You did good out there, Norris,” I said, ruffling his hair. 

“I know,” he replied cheekily. “It’s the kiss. Told you it worked.” 

Oscar came by next, and I wrapped my arms around him, giving him a hug too. “Tough luck today, but you’ll get them tomorrow.” 

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said, looking down at me with that boyish grin of his. “I’ll give it my all.” 

Just as I was about to head back to the garage, I spotted Charles finishing up his interview. Our eyes met across the paddock, and he grinned, motioning for me to come over. My heart skipped a beat, and for a second, I considered it. But then I shook my head, laughing to myself.  

Before I could stop them, the McLaren crew lifted me over the barrier and practically pushed me toward the Ferrari side of the paddock. I stumbled a little as I made my way over to Charles, but before I could get to him, Carlos appeared in front of me, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 

“You’re here for the real winner, right?” he teased, opening his arms for a hug. 

I rolled my eyes but hugged him anyway, laughing as he spun me around slightly. “Congrats, Sainz. Pole position looks good on you.” 

“I told you the kiss would work,” he said with a smirk. 

As I let go of Carlos, I turned and caught Charles watching us with a playful grin. I walked over to him, my heart racing as I stood in front of him. “Nice work out there, Leclerc,” I said, giving him a teasing smile. 

He grinned back, his eyes softening as he looked down at me. “Thanks. I’ll take third... for now.” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get too cocky,” I replied, giving him a light shove before stepping back. 

With all the interviews wrapped up, I pulled the guys together, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. “Alright, listen up. I’ve got something planned for tonight.” 

They all looked at me curiously, waiting for me to explain. “Street race,” I said, lowering my voice. “But you have to sneak out of your hotel if you want in.” 

Lando’s eyes lit up immediately, his excitement barely contained. “You already know I’m down!” 

Max raised an eyebrow, glancing at the others. “As long as you don’t get us into trouble.” 

Charles chuckled, crossing his arms. “We’re getting pretty good at sneaking out.” 

Carlos nodded, looking intrigued. “Alright, I’m in.” 

I smiled, feeling a surge of excitement. “Good. Let’s see if you can keep up with me tonight.” 

As I looked at the five of them, something stirred in me. I was starting to care about these guys—each of them in their own way. And that terrified me. Because after this weekend, they’d go back to their world, and I’d go back to mine. But tonight? 

Tonight, I’d let them into my world. 

“Let’s make it a night to remember,” I said with a grin. 

Max, ever the stoic, gave a small nod. “Just make sure you win.” 

I laughed. “You’re in for a surprise, Verstappen.” 

With that, we headed off in different directions, the adrenaline already building for the night ahead. 

———

The night was alive with the pulse of the city as I weaved my way through the streets, the hum of my friend’s car reverberating beneath me. This wasn’t Monaco or Silverstone. This wasn’t some finely-tuned, precision-controlled track. No, this was real—raw, unforgiving streets. The kind of racing that got under your skin and made your heart race for more than just the finish line. This was my world, where the only rules were the ones you made as you sped through the night. And tonight, I had an audience.  

After qualifying, the boys had practically begged me to show them what real street racing was about. I had given them the directions to a race spot I knew well—far enough from the Grand Prix festivities to keep things quiet, but close enough that they wouldn’t get lost. They’d show up separately, of course. There was no way I could let them be seen arriving with me. That would blow their cover in seconds. 

As I arrived at the racing scene, the familiar vibe washed over me—the buzzing conversations, the sharp smell of gasoline, the muffled thrum of engines revving in the distance. People milled about, excitement already buzzing in the air. It was the kind of scene that made my pulse quicken. I lived for this. 

The car was purring beneath me as I parked up and stepped out, throwing a quick glance around. The race was going to start soon, but I didn’t see the boys anywhere yet. I sent them the final pin drop location just as I got out of the car, checking my phone before tucking it away. Then I leaned against the hood, waiting. 

It didn’t take long for them to show up. I spotted them almost immediately as they slipped into the crowd, trying their best to blend in. I had to bite back a laugh. They looked so out of place. Max had on a baseball cap pulled low over his face, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Lando was wearing a hoodie that seemed two sizes too big, with the hood pulled over his head like he was trying to disappear into it. Charles, Carlos, and Oscar weren’t much better—each of them in a mix of dark jackets and caps that were way too clean for a scene like this.  

I pushed off from the car and sauntered over to them, smirking. “You guys look ridiculous.” 

Lando pulled back his hood slightly, his face peeking out as he grinned. “What? You don’t like our incognito outfits?” 

“You look like you’re trying way too hard to blend in,” I teased, shaking my head. “Trust me, you’re not fooling anyone.” 

Charles glanced around, his brow furrowed. “This place is... different.” 

“Yeah, no barriers or grid girls here,” I said, crossing my arms. “Welcome to real racing.” 

Carlos chuckled, nudging Max. “How’s this for a track, Verstappen?” 

Max surveyed the scene, his sharp eyes taking everything in. “There’s no track. Just streets. Where are the lines?” 

I grinned, loving the fact that this was so foreign to them. “No lines, no walls, no rules. You race on instinct. You want a perfect lap? You’re in the wrong place. Here, it’s all about who can get from point A to point B the fastest without crashing.” 

Oscar looked a little wide-eyed, clearly not used to this kind of scene. “And… people just watch? Like this?” 

I gave him a teasing smile. “Yup. And tonight, you’re the audience.” 

Lando glanced at me, his grin widening. “So, you’re gonna show us how it’s done?” 

I raised an eyebrow, flicking my eyes toward the car I’d be driving. “You better believe it. Don’t blink, or you might miss it.” 

Carlos crossed his arms, his eyes glinting with excitement. “You better not disappoint us.” 

I laughed, shaking my head. “Oh, you’ve seen nothing yet.” 

Before the race started, I left them to find a spot with the crowd and returned to my car, checking everything over one last time. My heart was already racing, and I hadn’t even started the engine. Street racing was in my blood—it wasn’t just about speed or victory. It was about freedom. There was nothing like the rush of tearing through streets where you didn’t know what would happen next. It was chaotic, dangerous, and exhilarating. I thrived in it. 

Once I was ready, I slid back into the driver’s seat, my hands wrapping around the wheel as I took a deep breath. The streets ahead of me stretched out like a maze, lit only by the streetlights and the occasional flicker of headlights. The crowd was already murmuring in anticipation, their excitement palpable. I could see the boys lingering near the front, blending in as best as they could, but I knew they were watching me closely. 

With a final rev of the engine, the countdown began. The signal flickered, and my foot slammed down on the gas. The tires screeched, the car lurching forward as the adrenaline hit me like a shot of pure energy. The world blurred around me, the familiar streets becoming nothing but a series of sharp turns and obstacles to navigate. 

I flew through the streets, the car hugging the corners as I weaved between buildings and dodged parked cars. This wasn’t about perfect lines or DRS zones. This was about reflexes, instinct, and the raw thrill of pushing the limits of what the car—and I—could do. I could feel every bump, every ripple in the road. The night air whipped past the open windows as I pushed the car harder, faster, chasing the thrill. 

I knew they were watching. I could practically feel their eyes on me as I dominated the race, overtaking cars with ease. There was no hesitation, no doubt in my mind. I belonged here. 

When I crossed the finish line, the crowd erupted in cheers, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I slowed the car down, adrenaline still pumping through my veins. I parked the car, stepping out to the roar of approval from the crowd, but it was the wide-eyed stares from the boys that made me grin the most. 

Carlos was the first to approach, looking completely blown away. “That was insane.” 

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Told you not to blink.” 

Charles shook his head, clearly impressed. “I don’t know how you do it. That was... something else.” 

I smirked, glancing back at the car. “It’s a different kind of racing. No rules. Just guts.” 

Max, who had been quiet throughout most of the night, finally spoke up. “You looked comfortable out there. Like you’ve done this a thousand times.” 

I met his gaze, nodding. “I have. This is my world.” 

Oscar was still staring at me like he was trying to process everything. “I don’t even know what to say. That was... insane. You’re...” 

“A badass?” I offered, raising an eyebrow. 

He laughed, nodding. “Yeah, something like that.” 

I chuckled, glancing at the group. “So, what do you think? Did I make believers out of you?” 

Carlos nodded, looking impressed. “You definitely did. I can’t believe you race like this regularly.” 

“Well, now you’ve seen it for yourselves,” I said, crossing my arms. “Street racing is where I’m meant to be.” 

After the race, there’s always an after-party. It’s a part of the culture—win or lose, we celebrate. I leaned back against the hood of my friend’s car, catching my breath as I looked at the boys, who were still buzzing from the race. 

“So,” I said, wiping the sweat from my brow. “There’s usually an after-party somewhere nearby. Could be worth checking out if you’re up for it.” 

Lando’s eyes lit up instantly. “An after-party? Hell yeah! I’m in.” 

Carlos exchanged a look with Max, who gave a small shrug. “Could be fun.” 

Oscar, though still clearly processing everything he’d seen tonight, grinned at me. “I don’t think I could sleep after watching that race anyway.” 

I checked the time on my phone. “Almost 3 a.m. You sure you want to stay out any later?” 

None of them hesitated. “We’ve got time,” Charles said with a smirk, hands in his pockets as he nodded towards me. “Lead the way.” 

I smiled, shaking my head. "Alright, but if any of you start falling asleep on me, I’m calling it quits." 

With that, we all piled into separate cars and made our way to the after-party, which was a little ways down the street. The vibe was electric when we arrived. Neon lights illuminated the scene, with people dancing to heavy beats, the air thick with excitement. It was the perfect way to end the night, and I couldn’t help but grin as I watched the boys take it all in. 

We weaved our way through the crowd, finding a spot where the music wasn’t deafening but the energy was still alive. Lando, naturally, threw himself right into the mix, pulling Carlos with him while Oscar lingered nearby, looking both fascinated and overwhelmed by the scene. Max leaned against a nearby wall, scanning the crowd but still looking oddly comfortable despite the chaos around him. 

“This is wild,” Oscar said, his eyes wide as he looked around. “Do you always end race nights like this?” 

I laughed. “Not always, but when we do, it’s a night to remember.” 

Charles leaned closer to be heard over the music. “You really know how to make a night unforgettable, don’t you?” 

I gave him a teasing smile. “You’ve only just scratched the surface, Leclerc.” 

We danced, talked, and drank until the early hours of the morning. It was fun to let loose with them, seeing them out of their element, blending into my world for a change. But after a while, I checked my phone again and saw the time. Almost 4 a.m. The Grand Prix was tomorrow, and these boys had their own race to worry about. 

I tapped Lando on the shoulder, getting his attention. “Alright, I’m tapping out. You guys need to get back to the hotel and rest.” 

Lando pouted but nodded, clearly exhausted despite his best efforts to keep up the energy. “Fine, but this was amazing.” 

I nodded towards one of my racing buddies across the way, a trusted friend who often helped keep things organized. “See that guy?” I pointed discreetly. “He’ll make sure you all get back to your hotel safely. No funny business.” 

Carlos gave me a curious look. “You’re leaving?” 

“Yeah,” I said with a small smile. “This was fun, but I’ve got to get going.” 

They all gave me varying degrees of protest, but eventually, they relented. Max gave me a subtle nod of thanks, and Lando clapped me on the back, telling me this wouldn’t be the last time we hung out like this. I grinned, saying my goodbyes, and started to make my way back to my car. 

As I walked away, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Glancing down, I noticed an unknown number had texted me. My heart skipped a beat, wondering who it could be at this hour. When I opened the message, my eyebrows shot up. 

You really going to leave without saying goodbye? 

It was Charles. 

I looked up from my phone to find Charles standing a little way off, watching me with a smirk. The rest of the boys hadn’t noticed yet, but I knew they wouldn’t miss the message. With a quick smile, I texted back,

Catch me if you can.

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