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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

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The Right Chapter 23 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

hello my loves! Some of you may have already seen this, but I have news! This fic is officially complete. There are thirty chapters, so you still have seven left after today’s update. I’ll be keeping the usual Tuesday/Saturday posting schedule, so you have a month left of updates.

Now that I am done drafting this fic, my requests will be open while I begin to bank up new chapters of the Hotch x Reader Scandal!AU that I plan to write next. Please send in requests here. I would also LOVE if you could fill out this survey about the Scandal!AU so I can get a sense of what you all would like. I will make sure to write it in a way that makes sense, even if you haven’t seen Scandal!

As always, thanks so much for reading, y’all are just the best.

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical descriptions of violence, cursing, hospital mention

wordcount: 2.3k

A little while later, Hotch sends JJ and Emily to the school to interview the classmates of the students who had been murdered, and you and Morgan head off to the medical examiner’s office.

“Find anything interesting in the calls from the tip line?” Morgan asks you as he pulls out of the parking lot, and you shrug.

“I need to go back through my notes. There were a couple kids' names that came up, but I want to go back and cross check for the names that came up more than once-- i figure if the name only comes up once, it’s kids pranking each other and I don’t want to waste our time on dead ends. Garcia’s looking into a teacher for me, though.”

“We just need a couple more puzzle pieces, and then it’ll all come together,” Derek says, more to himself than to you, and you murmur out your agreement as he pulls into the examiner’s office.

“Cause of death for Mrs. Mack and Mrs. Sutton was a gunshot wound to the neck. The daughters, to the abdomen,” the doctor says, passing over her report. “The men were all strangled. The boys by hand, the men with a garrote.”

“Any idea what order they were killed in?” You asked.

“My guess is the women first, one right after the other. Then the sons, and the husbands.”

“How did he stop the husbands from taking him down while he killed the sons?” Morgan asks skeptically.

The medical examiner points out a bruise on Mr. Sutton’s skull. “Looks like he was knocked unconscious, maybe by the butt of the gun or something in the home.” She explains.

“Thank you,” you said to the medical examiner, who smiled and left you both to your work.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Morgan asks you.

“White man in his twenties or thirties, snubbed by a woman he desired for another man, taking out the families he’s convinced he’ll never have?”

“Call Hotch,” he said, taking off at a brisk pace back towards the car and trusting you to follow. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and discovered that Garcia was already calling you.

“Hi Garcia, can you patch Hotch in?” You asked.

“Already here bug, and trust me, you’re gonna want to hear this.” She told you, and you put the phone on speaker so Morgan could listen in while he drove.

“What did you find, Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“So, I looked into Marc Vexper, and it turns out this long-term English sub has something to hide-- he didn’t make a single card purchase on either day that he was out, and his phone was completely off from the moment he stepped off the school’s campus to the time he returned.”

“Morgan and I are just leaving the medical examiner’s office now-- Marc fits the profile to a tee.” You interject.

“Oh but wait, the high school of horrors doesn’t end there,” Garcia warns you. “I took a peek at Marc’s texts looking for clues about his whereabouts, and I noticed some too-friendly chats with Victoria Sullivan, a student in his AP Literature class. Her phone was on both days, and I’ll give you one guess as to where she was both days-- and it wasn’t school.”

“You’re kidding,” Morgan sighs out.

“So did he groom Victoria into doing it herself, or was she an accomplice?” Hotch asked.

“The men were strangled, Aaron. There’s no way she could have done that herself.” You tell him.

“We need an address, Penelope.” Hotch demands.

“Already on your phone. The station’s closest.” She tells you.

“We’ll meet you there.” Hotch says, and the line clicks.

In a routine you’ve performed too many times to count, Morgan flicks on the lights and sirens as you mount your phone with the GPS sending you in the right direction. It’s all the same as it usually is, so why are you so nervous?

**********************

Hotch elects not to put on his lights and sirens as he approaches Mr. Vexper’s house, not wanting to alert him that anyone had found him out. There are two cars in the driveway-- a modest sedan with a few dings in it, and a shitbox of an old jeep with a parking permit for the local high school on the back bumper.

“The girl is here-- she might be a hostage.” Hotch tells Spencer, who nods. “We need to be careful. There’s no need for any other kids to lose their lives,” he says, quietly opening up his car door and gesturing for Spencer to take a back entrance while he takes the front. He climbs the worn wooden steps and peeks into the window, seeing nothing before he takes one hand off of his gun to swing open the front door of the home, where he’s met face to face with the Victoria Sullivan, standing on the main stairway of the home, gun leveled square at the middle of his forehead.

“Victoria, put the gun down,” Hotch says slowly, raising his own hands as a sign of good faith. “I’m here to help you. Where’s Marc?”

Before Victoria can answer, Hotch hears the woosh of metal in the air and feels an overwhelming crack in his legs, falling to the ground as he yelps in pain.

“Run, Vicky! You know where to go!” Marc yells, and the girl disappears from Hotch’s blurring line of vision as March continues to beat on Hotch with a crowbar, stomping on his legs.

Hotch vaguely hears Spencer's running footsteps, and Marc takes off, running in the same direction as Victoria.

Spencer falls to the ground next to Hotch, attempting to gently tend to his injuries, but Hotch weakly waves him off.

“Go, go, save the girl, he’ll kill her next. I’m okay. Go,” he coughs out, and after a moment’s hesitation, Spencer goes.

Hotch groans as he gropes around in his pants pocket, pulling out his cell phone and calling Garcia.

“I need help,” he says once the line clicks.

****************

If Aaron lived through this, you were going to kill him yourself. You knew you were being irrational, you knew it wasn’t his fault, and worst of all you know that he hadn’t even done something you could be mad at him for, like going in without backup. This was just the job. This just happened sometimes. And you were absolutely fucking livid that it was happening to him. Not to mention scared shitless.

Morgan had pumped the gas as soon as Garcia called, but it still wasn’t fast enough. Your leg bounced anxiously in the passenger seat.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Morgan attempted to placate you, but you wouldn’t have it.

“You don’t know that,” you spat out.

“He’s tough. He’s got a lot to stick around for. He’s gonna be okay,” He tells you, and this time you don’t argue.

When you finally pull up to the house, Aaron is on a stretcher being loaded onto an ambulance. You throw yourself out of the SUV before it’s even fully stopped, calling out for Aaron.

“I’m okay,” he sputters out as you climb into the back of the ambulance.

“No you aren’t, you asshole,” you scoffed at him, your voice a little watery. “Tell the paramedics what happened so they can help you,” you said, stroking at the hair at the top of his head as your chin quivered.

“Don’t cry,” he says, reaching up for you and you see that his hands are bloody.

“Shh, shhh. Don’t worry about me. Let them help you,” you calmed him down, trying not to let your tears interrupt the medics when his eyes roll into the back of his head and he loses consciousness.

Aaron will live, and you suppose you won’t follow through on your threats to kill him. Once he’s in the hospital, they wheel him back to a restricted area, leaving you alone in a waiting room while the rest of the team finds the unsub. You call Jess, let her know what’s going on, but ask that she keep it from Jack until you’re back in the room with him and Hotch is able to talk to Jack himself. You didn’t want Jack to worry, and you knew that Aaron’s assurance that he was fine was the only comfort Jack would accept.

After a while-- it could have been thirty minutes or three hours, Emily appears in the waiting room..

“I was appointed to come check on you,” she says by way of greeting. “Have you seen him yet?”

“Not since they took him out of the ambulance. He looked… bad,” you struggle to find a word that explains the magnitude of it.

“He’s gonna be fine. No gunshot wounds, just some nasty bruises. I’m sure it looked worse than it actually was.” She consoles you gently.

“I hope you’re right.”

At that moment, a doctor appears in the doorway. “For Agent Hotchner?” He asks, and you walk over to him.

“I’m Aaron’s partner,” you explain, the word “girlfriend” feeling entirely too childish for the scenario.

“Agent Hotchner is going to be just fine. His left leg is fractured slightly at the femur and the kneecap, but we’ve put him in a brace to stabilize the knee, and he should recover over the next eight to twelve weeks. He’ll need some physical therapy, and field work is out of the question until he is cleared, but he’ll make a full recovery. He has a mild concussion and a few bruised ribs, but we’ve given him some meds for the pain and the concussion shouldn’t present any further complications.”

No field work. Aaron was going to be pissed. “Thank you, doctor.” You said gratefully.

“He’s been asking for you, if you’d like to follow me,” The doctor responds, and you allow him to lead you down a maze of hallways, leaving you just outside Aaron’s room, where his eyes are shut and his chest rises and falls slowly. Figures, you were sure he’d been up all night running through profiles in his head.

You sat on his right side, away from his injured leg, and rested your head against his mattress, near his hip bone. He looked so fragile like this, wrapped up in a thin blanket and a johnny, bandaged from his collar bone to his toes. You wondered, briefly, if he felt this helpless and frustrated the night that he picked you up from your old apartment. The tears well up against your will, but you allow them to fall, for a few moments. You had earned the right to care for him, to worry about him, to fret. You had earned the right to sit vigil at his hospital bed and try to force images of a lifetime lived without him to stop passing through your head.

Aaron stirred, and you sucked in a quick breath, not wanting to wake him. He settled, again, and you rested your head back against the mattress, letting the gentle rhythm of his breath lull you to sleep.

He twitches a little while later, and the sudden movement jolts you awake. His return to the waking world is slower, and you let him come at it at his own pace, not wanting to overwhelm him when he was probably already going to be in pain and disoriented. You hear him mumble out your name and you stand, placing one hand on his cheek and the other in his uninjured palm.

“I’m right here, baby,” you whispered to him.

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to look you up and down without moving his neck.

“Am I--” you chided gently. “Honey, I’m fine. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”

“My leg,” he tells you, trying to sit up, but you push back on his shoulders.

“Absolutely not,” you tell him. “You broke your leg. You are staying in this bed until a doctor tells you otherwise.”

“Fuck,” Aaron muttered out. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. “Is Spencer okay? And the girl, Victoria Sullivan?”

“The team took them both alive. Spencer is fine, just a little breathless from his run.” You tell him.

“When is it gonna heal?” He switches topics back to his injury.

“You mean, when are you going to be allowed into the field again?” You asked skeptically, and he at least has the good grace to look sheepish. “Not for at least six weeks, more than likely closer to ten, plus physical therapy.”

“God damnit,” Aaron sighs.

“It could have been a lot worse, Aaron,” you point out softly, and he looks up at you.

“You’ve been crying.” He says softly.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Don’t lie to a profiler,” He chides you gently.

“Well, I’m the woman who loves you and I’ve earned the right to cry when you’re hurt.” You said defensively, but not unkindly.

“Hey, I’m okay. Really, I swear. Come up here,” he urges you, and you roll your watery eyes.

“I’ll hurt you,” you tell him.

“You’ll hurt me worse if you don’t come cuddle,” he pouts.

“Corny bastard,” you chuckle, tenderly sliding into bed next to him.

Unable to shift and cuddle, Aaron settles for reaching out for your hand, which you allow him to take in his own. He strokes his thumb over the back of your palm tenderly.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispers, and you might start crying again right there.

“Don’t do it again. I was ready to kill you myself,” you warned him.

“Noted.”

“We should call Jack. I didn’t tell him what was going on, I didn’t want to scare him. Jess knows.”

“I just… want to hold your hand for a couple more minutes.”

“Okay, love. A few more minutes.”

tagging: @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee @zheezs14 @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner @ijustwannaread2k19 @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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mamahersh · 3 years

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The Road to Hell (is Paved with Good Intentions) Chapter 5

“Season 8 was well underway, and the server’s first conflict is bubbling just under the surface. But BDoubleO can’t worry about that right now because he has an Etho to find so they can work on the Horse Course together. However when Xisuma calls a surprise server meeting on behalf of EvilXisuma, BDubs gets his answers about where Etho’s been in the worst way possible.”

(CW: angst, blood, gore, torture)

Chapter rating: M

Back to the rescue team and those left behind, focusing on BDubs and a surprise Mumbo Jumbo! (Bet you weren’t expecting Mumbo angst.) Thank you all again for your interest! As previously mentioned, if you enjoyed this, I was directly inspired by this fic over on AO3.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

BDubs knew it was going to be hard trying to find where Etho and EvilX were hiding, but he neglected to remember how nerve wracking it would be with the added challenge of hearing his communicator go off every time someone died. Admittedly, it had only been the two times thus far, but checking and seeing they were both Etho made him want to go insane. The only boon they had, paradoxically, was the same curse keeping Etho stuck in that hell hole: that they were able to respawn in the same place they had died in. This at least meant that their progress wouldn’t be undone at a moment’s notice because someone died and got sent to their base halfway across the map in the opposite direction they were searching.

After he had checked his communicator to see the death message, “Ethoslab was slain by Ethoslab whilst trying to escape EvilXisuma”; BDubs decided he would stop watching chat completely. If someone died, he knew they would be fine, and he really didn’t need to know how else Etho was going to suffer till they found him. Plus, he had Doc keeping an eye on Etho for him. And he had Beef by his side, plus the Big Eye crew supporting him. He just had to keep reminding himself he wasn’t alone, it wasn’t the jungle again, he had his people with him.

“Hey BDubs, you see anything yet?” called out Tango, flying by on his own elytra. BDubs startled in the straps of his elytra, and focused more on the ground below.

“I got nothin’!” he called back, swooping to the back of the formation the big eyes crew had made to check the area stretching from the girls’ southernmost border to the northernmost border of Cleo and Joe’s shared territory. They had decided to first fly over their assigned strip of the x coordinate line to see if there was anything obviously wrong from a bird’s eye view. After that, depending on the results from the other search teams, they would dig down in strategic intervals to be as thorough as possible. They had calculated the size of the room based on the video feed before they had left, and so they planned on digging straight down every 9 blocks along the axis. As crazy as that was, they were hoping with forteen hermits all doing it at the same time equally spaced along the line, they would be able to find Etho within an hour or two. (This all assumed that EvilX hadn’t been lying, but this was the only thing they had.)

——————————————————-

Mumbo hated every decision that had led him to this moment. He hated every decision that others have made on his behalf that had led to this moment. (That was a lie, he blamed himself completely. Even though Grian had had the idea to institute him as the CEO of Boatem, it was still his final say as to whether he would actually complete the role assigned to him. It was his decision to step up to the plate and lead them at this critical time. Everything that was happening was entirely his fault.) As he watched, horrified, Etho having to stay strong without anyone by his side; Mumbo thought he would throw up. If he didn’t faint first that was. (How pathetic of him, that he couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions.) He stood miserable in front of the screen, promising himself the least he could do was watch every moment Etho was without help and in pain because of him.

Beside him, Xisuma frantically typed in his admin console, seemingly trying in vain to undo whatever EvilXisuma had done to the respawn mechanics. To his other side, TFC stood stoically, seemingly unaffected by what he was witnessing, though Mumbo was sure that if he looked over, he’d be able to see the disguised pain in TFC’s eyes. Behind and a bit to the side of Xisuma was Joe, who’s pain was obvious to see, but stood strong despite it. (Mumbo wondered why Joe was here at all, till he remembered how close Joe was to Xisuma). To TFC’s other side stood Doc, who looked about one more Etho death from finding a way to crawl through the screen and detonating in EvilXisuma’s face. And to Joe’s other side stood Scar, sympathetic tears trailing down his face and holding himself in a way that Mumbo knew he did when he was particularly missing the comfort of Jellie the cat.

Mumbo watched as Etho poofed back into existence, arm that he had mangled looking noticeably more mangled than before.(Though there was something off about the restraints and his arm’s relation to them that Mumbo couldn’t place. It didn’t help the camera’s resolution wasn’t quite perfect clarity, and a bit of a wide shot, so details were a little difficult to pick out. Though it didn’t stop them from seeing the next part just fine.) Once Etho was back, EvilXisuma punched him in the face, hard enough they could see a tooth fly out of his mouth.

“You will regret that,” stated EvilXisuma, just barely loud enough to be picked up by the camera. (Mumbo knows Etho would normally have replied with something like, ‘you already said that’, but, well…)

“Any updates Xisuma?” questioned Doc, still staring intently at the screen looking for any clues as to the whereabouts of the the torture room.

“He’s still goin’ strong Doc,” replied Joe instead, peaking over Xisuma’s shoulder to see what he was up to. “You got any new clues?”

Doc growled under his breath. “No.” He sounded bitter to Mumbo, all acid and sharp edges.

“I can’t tell, but there’s something different about his arm I think,” said Mumbo hesitantly, nervously watching as the rest of the group stared intently up at the screen to see what he meant.

Scar spoke up, “I think I see what you mean. His arm isn’t quite aligned correctly with the chair arm, right?”

Mumbo nodded, pointing at Etho’s arm on the screen where it seemed to almost intersect with the cuff and was bleeding profusely. “I don’t know how, like if it was just a natural consequence of trying to move his arm in that direction as he died and respawned, or if it was just a one time fluke; but he seems to have gotten his wrist intersected with the cuff on the armrest and the stake from earlier seems off center.”

As Mumbo was trying to explain, EvilXisuma had begun to focus on Etho’s fingers, and starting on the opposite hand to the one they were observing, he began to break them individually. Mumbo was selfishly happy that he didn’t have to focus on Etho’s pain for a moment as he allowed himself to fully focus on the potential puzzle in front of him.

TFC suddenly spoke up, voice coming off as gruff. “Hrm, this is good and all, but it depends entirely on EvilXisuma not noticing this little update; which we’ve done a pretty poor job at not letting him on. What with him more than likely able to hear us, and all that.” Doc muttered a quiet, “fuck” under his breath in response, and they all held their breath as they waited to see if EvilXisuma would say anything.

Instead of saying anything, he continued to methodically snap more of Etho’s fingers, causing the group to flinch in varying amounts at each wet snap. However, as Mumbo was trying to take in details not relating to Etho’s pain, he could tell that the mic was picking up EvilXisuma’s muttering. But Mumbo didn’t have the super amazing hearing that someone like Ren or Grian had; but he wondered if one of the other people in the group here had more sensitive hearing. “Anyone able to make out what he’s saying?” muttered Mumbo.

Doc hissed a quiet affirmative, and muttered back, “Yesssss, but I need to focus. Please everyone be quiet, thanks.” Everyone but Xisuma nodded back, who was too busy still trying to figure out what EvilXisuma had done to the code to notice anything else around him.

Mumbo did his best to both suffer the consequences of his actions, while at the same time he couldn’t stand watching one of his fellow Hermits in that much pain. He could no longer distract himself, as he couldn’t make out what EvilXisuma was saying, and there were only so many times he could try to determine how many pixels on the screen related to the walls were just stone or his imagination trying to give him impossible answers. EvilXisuma had finally finished with Etho’s left hand, and he now moved to the right before he took a noticeable pause. Mumbo held his breath, hoping beyond hope that EvilXisuma somehow hadn’t noticed Etho’s weirdly placed hand. But that was an impossible wish after all.

“Well well well, how have you managed this then?” Evil Xisuma appeared to poke the part of the wrist that seemed to be poking part way out of the cuff. Mumbo couldn’t help but notice that Etho seemed so gone that he barely flinched at what should have been an incredibly painful jostle. “I’m interested in seeing how you struggle with this.” Evil X nodded at Etho. “Yes, I shall let you struggle. But we still have about 9 more bones to break, so on we go.” With that, he kneeled in front of Etho and started snapping the fingers on Etho’s right hand. Each wet snap ended with a muted whine and shudder from Etho, who seemed to have zoned out far enough that any reactions seemed mostly involuntary at this point. EvilXisuma seemed quiet for the first few snaps, before he went back to muttering in a just barely audible way. Mumbo could only assume that EvilXisuma was unaware that his mic sensitivity was set too high, and thought he was muttering in such a way as for those of them watching the stream would be unable to hear him. That, or it was an unconscious habit, and didn’t even realize he was doing it. Either way, Mumbo continued hoping he would continue to do so, so that maybe he would let something slip and Doc could post it in chat.

Meanwhile Doc had been listening closely to what EvilX had been saying, but none of it thus far had led to a clue. Most of what he was muttering were curses and the terrible things he planned to do to Etho. Honestly Doc wished he couldn’t hear what EvilX was saying, just so that he wasn’t obligated to continue listening to see if that scum slipped up. But the chance of catching something important was too high, so he went back to diligently listening to the stream, mentally cursing at every suppressed gasp or whine or wet snap from Etho.

EvilXisuma made quick work of Etho’s fingers, and seemingly tired of Etho’s lack of responses decided he needed to kill him. However, because he was feeling particularly vindictive, he gutted Etho, guts spilling over his knees before he disappeared in a flash of red. Mumbo, morbidly curious how the game would register the death, looked down at his communicator. “Ethoslab was slain by EvilXisuma.” He was selfishly grateful that the server messages were that generic. He watched further as Etho poofed back into the chair, though as before his killing blow hadn’t followed him through respawn, but all his previous wounds did. Mumbo looked very carefully at Etho’s wrists and saw that he had managed to get his wrist farther out, and the stake seemed almost completely out of his arm. Unfortunately for Etho, respawn managed to break him out of his trance, and he seemed far more present and aware (and in pain) for the moment. The only positive that Mumbo could see was that EvilXisuma seemed to have either turned off the speakers on his end, or was ignoring them completely. But Mumbo could only hope that either Doc would hear something soon, or the search parties would stumble across the hidden room soon; because he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could watch.

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ntamain · 3 years

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Is my (24F) neighbour (27F) into me or is she just being friendly? How do I know if she's gay?

another gay gem from the r/relationship reddit

Update:

Image ID under the cut, please let me know if I did it wrong!

[Image ID: four screenshots of a post from the relationship subreddit by tumblr user nta-main. The title reads “Is my (24F) neighbour (27F) into me or is she just being friendly? How do I know if she’s gay?”

The text reads “Update post is now locked, I cant believe so many people were interested in us!! Thank you again for your support, comments and messages.

Hi all, I can't believe I'm asking for advice from a bunch of strangers on the internet but I don't really have anyone I can talk to about this. Sorry for the incoming essay but I guess I need to give history. I bought my first house in September last year, It was an odd time but everything just fell into place. It's quite a small village and everyone is really friendly so I got to know my neighbours soon after moving in - yes, socially distanced. Then I met my over-the-road neighbour, let's call her Elle. I can't describe it but it's the first time I've ever met someone and been lost for words and my heart was racing and just thought "omg", y'know?? So after I blushed my way through a welcome to the village type convo we only saw each other for a wave and hello for a few days.

To help kinda settle in I had my dog (Bea) with me for the first few weeks. During this time there was a massive increase in dog thefts in a nearby town, not just from gardens but literally wrestled away from people. If I'd have been working (furloughed off and on since March) then I would've taken Bea back to mum's but since I was home with her all day she stayed. So the local police advised to not walk dogs alone but we go out twice a day, a 10k run in the morning and a few miles walk in the evening. So obvs this scares me, but at the same time she is honestly a pain in the arse and gets upset if she doesn't go for a run and needs to be tired out so I'm kind of stuck at this point. Then along comes Elle. She knocked on the door and offered to come with us as she'd seen Bea and me in the evenings and everything kind of spiralled from there. I told her about my morning runs but she didn't really bite so I thought nothing of it. Then a few days later I bumped into her on a run, so she started joining us on those too.

A few months later and we are spending more and more time together everyday. It has now progressed to a run early morning, afternoon coffee, dinner most evenings and then the evening walk. It just seemed to happen without me really noticing. I didn't read into things that much as I don't want to get my hopes up and ruin anything until another neighbour commented about how much time we spend together and how "it's nice to see you young gals getting on" and winked. She actually winked at me. I asked her what she meant but she just laughed and said "you know what I mean". So now I'm looking back on things and wondering if she could like me too?

Here's some reasons why she might like me:

I went running along the same route at the same time for nearly 2 weeks before I happened to run into her a few days after I told her this?

I make her a coffee every afternoon (Elle is WFH) and take it over in her fave mug. She says I make good coffee but I'm pretty sure I saw a fancy coffee machine the first time I went round (it's not there now?).

Elle carried on running and walking with me even after Bea went home. I told her she was going back to mum's and she said well "I'll have to make another excuse to join you" and then we just carried on everyday.

She has tried really hard to bond with Bea. Bea is a very anxious dog and is scared of everyone except me and mum. Elle bought special treats to give her everyday and has been so amazing with her and never tried to force anything. When I asked her she said "it's important to me that she likes me and is comfortable". Bea actually fell asleep between us on the sofa yesterday and It just makes my heart skip a beat guys.

She invited me to the zoom quiz she does with her friends every fortnight or so and they were all like "oh so this is who we've heard so much about "

We realised we had become each other's support bubble. Elle asked if I was meeting anyone else and I said no, she said she was glad she had me all to herself (!!)

We gave each other quite personal xmas presents. Like, it actually made me tear up it meant so much to me. And she bought stuff for Bea!!

Reasons why she might not like me:

All the reasons above, but that she's just doing them because she's a fucking great person and we're friends?

It might sound dumb but idk I need your help guys. She is the just the most incredible person I have ever met and I really really like her but if she isn't gay or doesn't feel the same I don't want to lose her friendship as she has become such a huge part of my life. I genuinely have no experience with these kind of things as I went to quite a strict all girls school, so it's not as if there were any relationships around me as a teen and then I went to a very small uni (8 of us on my course). I guess another reason is that I've struggled with anxiety and depression for the past 10 years, as well as my weight and working on my self confidence, but I can say that right now I am the happiest and healthiest (both mentally and physically) I have ever been. I've only just really become comfortable with the fact that I'm gay and I have never really told anyone in real life, but I don't think people would be too surprised lol. I don't have any close friends as no one stuck around when I was really struggling with my MH a few years ago so I can't discuss this with anyone irl.

So I need your advice : how do I find out if she is gay? And no, I don't have the confidence to just ask!! What if she says no and I ruin everything? She has never mentioned anything about past relationships and I'm pretty tactless so not sure how I could naturally slip it into the convo. Like, "hey tell me have you ever had a girlfriend? Do you want one now?" Lol. And how can I make a move without really making a move so I don't ruin things??

tl;dr : Don't know whether my neighbour is gay and into me or is just really friendly. How can I make a move without ruining our friendship?

Edit: Ok guys, thank you so so much for all your support and encouragement. You've all given me a lot to think about. I think I'm going to casually slip some gay stuff into conversation and see how she reacts. Then bring up the neighbours comment like some of you suggested, seeing as tho the neighbour was heavily implying that we're gay. I'll do it tonight otherwise I'll talk myself out of it again. I will post an update to let you know what happens (eek). If you never hear from me again assume it went badly and I am consoling myself with cake and watching brokeback mountain in floods of tears.

Hi reddit, yes it's me the useless lesbian. First off I want to thank you all for your support, encouragement and advice - and the undeserved awards! I never expected this many of you to take the time to comment and that so many of you were rooting for us.

So I had the plan to drop these gay hints into convo like you guys suggested but honestly it all went out the window. Elle was kinda stressed friday after a shitty work zoom and just needed to vent so it wasnt the right time to start anything. Though I guess I must have been a bit off thanks to spending all day overthinking things on here, as Elle turned up Saturday morning rambling about stressing me out and apologised (!!) for ruining dinner. Obvs I said "what are you talking about you can talk to me about anything", and she said "anything?" and I said "anything" back. And guys the tension was unreal, staring at each other and hoping our lesbian mind reading powers would kick in.

Then there was some loud noise like a car backfiring or something and the moment went. So I went to make coffee and then Elle asked me why I was a bit quiet the night before and I said something about overthinking stuff and she said "what stuff" and idk you guys I wasnt prepared to be put on the spot my casual gay pop culture references were useless in this moment. My mind just went completely blank and I forgot every single thing you guys suggested and my heart was pounding and I just blurted out you know I like you, right?.

...And then she kissed me. Kissed me. We straight up just snogged in the kitchen and it was fucking great. So...you were right. You were all fucking right. She's gay, she likes me and has been trying to drop hints for nearly 5 months. sigh

We were both just too scared to make a move or ruin anything. Turns out she's been burned by straight girls in the past, so she's pretty wary and was hoping I'd straight up say I'm a lesbian so she'd know for sure - maybe the I'm a lesbian wall hanging would've been a good idea after all? Her friends have been helping her drop hints, she showed me the group chat and guys their suggestions ranged from flirting more to just turning up in a trenchcoat and nothing else lol. Also, the winking neighbour has been making comments to her as well, so shout out to her for trying to make this happen too.

So no cake and cry watching brokeback mountain, just 5 months of dating to catch up on. As for worrying about how our current schedule could be more date like during lockdown, you were right it's kinda irrelevant when you've essentially been dating the whole time. Though we never made it to our morning run yesterday, in fact we didn't leave the house at all, ha.

Thank you guys for giving me hope, even if all your suggestions completely disappeared in the moment. Maybe I'll show her the post later and ask if any of the suggestions would have worked.

tl;dr: she's gay, into me and I'm an idiot”

End image ID]

#this is for sure already on tumble #but it's so cute #I had to #mine #r/relationships #tw// ed #edit: I'll add a transcript in a minute just gotta figure out how to make it accessible

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thorne93 · 4 years

Text

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 17)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 4839

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy, @carryonmyswansong, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another week went by when you were at Dexter’s. He tried to balance his time with you and Rita a bit more, so she didn’t get suspicious of all the time together, and tonight was your night together. He was doing some research on an unsub -- or victim, depending on who you asked -- when you got a call from Emily.

You frowned, looking at the number. Why would she be calling? No one on the team had called you since you left for Miami since you weren’t working. What could she need?

You answered the phone, a sense of despair already building in your gut before any words were out of your or her mouth.

“Hello?” you greeted uneasily as you stood from the chair beside Dexter.

“Y/N? It’s Reid,” she said, her voice totally in “chief” mode.

“What? What is it?” you demanded, desperately trying to keep your wits.

“He’s been taken. We had an unsub in custody, Benjamin Merva, and he’s left the building. Garcia and Reid are nowhere to be found.”

“Oh my god. Okay. I’m on my way,” you said quickly. “Update me with anything you have.”

“I will.”

With that, you two hung up and you grabbed your purse, stuffing your things into it.

“I have to go,” you urgently said before Dexter stood.

“Wait, what’s going on?” he asked.

“It’s Spence. He’s been kidnapped.”

“Shit. Okay. Uh, what are you going to do?”

“Fly up to Washington and help my team,” you said without even thinking. You got to his door and turned to him, your hand on the handle. “I’m going to find my husband.”

He strode over to you. “Wait. Do you… Do you want me to come with you?”

You frowned at him for a moment. “I… I mean I wouldn’t mind but why would you want to come with me?” you asked, a little flabbergasted.

“Because… I lie to everyone I know... but not you. I tell you the truth, all of it, and you don't run from me. Deb’s my sister, but she doesn’t know the truth about me. You’re...well for lack of a better term, my best friend, and I don’t want to see you go through this alone.”

“But what about work? Rita? Deb?”

“I’ve got some vacation time, and Rita will understand.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Spencer needs you, and you need a friend.”

Part of you wanted to say you’d have friends up in D.C, but Dexter was right. Neither of you had anyone that knew the whole truth about you and accepted you, and right now, before you went berserk, you needed that odd calming sensation that Dex always provided.

“Okay, yeah. Let’s go. Call Rita from the car. I’ll go straight to the airport. The Bureau should have a jet on standby,” you informed as you exited the apartment and he locked it quickly behind him.

“And they’ll just let you use it?” he wondered, trying to keep up with your pace.

“A high profile criminal has escaped, two federal agents are his prisoners, and we have no clue where they went. So yes, they’ll want their best profiler on the case, no expense is too large,” you said with an assuring look before jumping into your rental car.

You tried not to break every law on the way to the airport, but it was hard. Dexter called Rita and she was fully supportive, unsurprisingly. Finally, you got there, already calling the Bureau, and got clearance to use the jet. They had it ready and fueled and let you and Dexter on. Of course, they wondered who he was and you told him he was with Miami PD, explaining he was a friend and colleague that might be able to help on the case.

Then you two were in the air.

Your leg was bouncing erratically. You tried calling Spencer twice yourself, but it only went to voicemail and on the second time, you couldn’t stop the tears. Without leads from Emily, and no distraction from the team, and nothing to do but sit on the plane, there was nothing to stop you from breaking down. The heels of your palms went into your eyes as you began to sob. Dexter sat across from you, unsure how to console you.

“They’re going to find him,” he tried and you just looked at him, not trusting yourself to say a word.

You picked up the laptop on the jet and opened it, trying to get a video chat going with someone on the team -- Emily.

“When was he taken?” you demanded in an even tone as soon as he picked up.

“An hour ago.”

“It took you an hour to report this to me?”

“We didn’t know he was taken. We thought he was part of the evacuation.”

“Evacuation? Emily, what the hell is going on?”

“Owen Quinn, an agent who worked here over a year ago sent an email to Spencer. It had his badge and where to find him. Spence found him in a storage unit barely alive. He told us he was held captive and tortured by the Strangler.”

“I remember that guy. Wouldn’t let the case go so he quit, right?”

“Right. He says he was abducted and tortured by a husband and wife, but their son was kind to him. Now we didn’t know if he was concocting this or if he was telling the truth. The parents were dead, and the son, Theo, was gone. We thought maybe he killed the parents, maybe he was the strangler, because the storage unit was in Quinn’s named, paid for in cash, and inside we found seven hyoid bones. We thought he might have broken Benjamin out, but they left him for dead in the garage.”

“Okay, so where are Spence and Garcia?” you questioned.

“That’s what we need to find out. We aren’t sure who took them yet, but we do know Benjamin and them are missing. Someone must’ve been on the inside to help because he was locked on the fifth floor.”

“Wait, you said Spence found the guy in a storage unit. Did he go alone?”

“Not exactly. He told me what was happening and requested that SWAT go with him.”

“Why didn’t he just take you and the team?” you wondered, and more importantly, why didn’t he tell you he was going to find him on his own?

“He said whoever sent him the email wanted him to find it. I was outside as soon as they called in finding a body.”

“So now what? Any leads?”

“We thought that Quinn was converted, but we got that part wrong. Benjamin leads a cult, and agent Meadows is part of it all.”

“A… a cult?” you questioned. “What the hell would a cult want with Garcia and Spencer?” you asked, more to yourself than anything else. “Okay so no leads?”

“No, and the systems are down.”

“Fantastic,” you groaned. “Alright. Find out what you can about this Meadows… Call if you have any updates. I’m going to go over what I can on the ride up. By the way, I’m bringing a friend,” you said, your eyes shooting at Dex across the table.

“Oh? Who?”

“Dexter Morgan. Forensics for Miami PD.”

She peered at you for a moment before nodding. “Okay, we’ll get him a visitors badge when he gets in.”

“Thanks, Em.”

You shut the laptop lid and sat back into the chair, thinking, dissecting everything you knew about cults.

“You’re pretty...collected when you’re working.”

You smirked. “Funny, I could say the same for you. You get a calm that washes over you when you...work,” you said, giving him a look that you both meant something other than work.

“Your team seem really good, and you’re intelligent. You’ll find him,” he assured.

You shook your head, tears coming to your eyes. “What if I don’t, Dex? What if the last times we spoke were all just bullshit because I couldn’t keep my insecurities in check?”

“Hey, you can’t help how you feel. You can’t live your life as if every moment would be the last with someone. If that were true, no one would ever hurt anyone and we’d always be forgiving and never mad. It’s just not realistic.”

“I know but--” you stopped, a sob choking you. You let the tears flow before bending over to sob. “I just want him safe.”

“He will be,” he said, consoling you.

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

You marched into the FBI building, after getting Dexter a visitor’s badge. He followed you diligently into the bullpen.

“Get me up to speed,” you ordered as soon as you walked into the area, eyeing your colleagues.

“Uh, Y/N, are you sure you’re up for this?” Tara asked. “It is Spence. Maybe you should just let us work and--”

“No,” you firmly said, a darkness in your eyes. Your eyes flashed to Emily’s. “You can fire me for insubordination if you’d like but if you all get to stay on the case, then so do I. Whether I’m on or off the FBI payroll, I will be here, fighting to find him just as much as you.”

Emily nodded at you. “Okay. We take care of our own.”

Rossi clapped your back as Luke smiled at you.

“Meadows, she’s one of his followers. She took Theo, their new messiah, Reid, and Garcia. Our systems just came back up and it looks like someone hacked it from within the building.”

“Okay, she worked for ViCAP, why?” you asked.

“That’s the million dollar question,” Rossi agreed.

“We’re about to check out the camera’s,” Matt informed and you glanced over to him. You followed him while Dexter stayed behind and looked at the case files you’d given him.

Three of you watched the security footage, watching where Merva went, where Meadows went, when Garcia used her key card, until finally -- there he was. Spencer. Your heart felt relief and despair in one swift moment. You kept your eyes glued to the screen to see what clue’s he’d leave behind.

Sure enough, on a second watchthrough, he was signing “Ben’s Believers” and this threw everyone for a loop.

“Why would he sign that? He already knows we figured that out.”

You and Luke looked at each other with quizzical faces. What was that supposed to mean?

Everyone regrouped in the roundtable room, where Rossi led the new question.

“Why is at the heart of every BAU investigation, and this one isn’t any different.”

“Why did she work for ViCap,” Luke surmised.

“Exactly. As we know, ViCAP agents liaison between federal and local agencies. The whole point is to put together details of crimes that could be connected across the U.S. Then it gets on our radar,” Rossi explained.

You made the connection in your head quickly. “So she’s been wiping out any connection to the cult,” you said, your stomach getting queasy.

Rossi continued, “We had to go back to when she joined and rebuild her case histories.

We found a pattern that she was hiding.”

JJ added, “So the murders she was covering up were the ones where the victims were missing hyoid bones.”

“Like the ones you found in the storage unit. Seven, right?” you affirmed.

“As it turns out, this cult has killed more than seven,” Rossi said with a bit of solemness in his voice.

Emily frowned as she asked, “How many?”

“299,” JJ informed and suddenly your legs felt like jello.

“Oh my god,” you gasped out, holding onto the chair in front of you.

Dexter reached for you. “I’m gonna get her to some fresh air,” he informed, and the team nodded. You leaned into him as he led you from the room, out into the elevator area.

“Dex… 299 kills… and she’s been hiding it,” you breathed. “299… What if… What if they want Spencer for the last kill?” You shook your head as tears rolled down your cheeks. “I can’t lose him. I just can’t. Not like this, alright?”

He suddenly pulled you close to his chest and wrapped his arms around you as you sobbed into him, clinging to his shirt. Some would say it was odd, finding comfort in the arms of a serial killer, especially being an FBI agent - but for you, this made sense. Dexter was no more monster than you or anyone on your team. He only did what most of them wished they could do.

Eventually, you dried your eyes and went back to the round table room. You hated to hear the things you were hearing about your husband, but you had to hear them.

“All right, look, The Believers, they're just like Jonestown, Manson, Heaven's Gate, even Rajneeshpuram in Oregon. There's always a charismatic leader and a strong right hand who appears as a devoted disciple. In this case, Meadows,” Tara was saying as you stepped back in, all eyes on you but discussion still flowed.

Merva has killed 299 innocents for a reason. We just don't know why. But now that he's taken Reid and Garcia, The Believers have declared war on the BAU. So this has got to be working toward their end game, one that could make either Reid or Garcia their 300th victim, perhaps their last,” Emily stated, her eyes flashing to you. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I know this is hard to hear but--”

“No, I know. I was just… thinking the same thing out there. They’re a cult, right? They’ve got victims. It only makes sense to round it off to a certain number,” you said shakily.

“Garcia wasn’t part of this, she was just racing to the elevator,” Matt said.

“So then it’s Spence,” you said definitely, your eyes touching on all of your teammates. “It’s always been him. According to what you’ve gathered, he fits the victimology. A protector…” You bit your lip to keep from breaking down.

“Reid has to know something we don’t,” Tara insisted.

Luke added, “Ben's Believers. Reid could have told us anything, but he chose that.”

“Okay, so why? What is it about them that we’re missing?” you questioned.

With that, you wracked your brain for several minutes before you went to the restroom. One, you were in there to take a breather from this, get out of your own head for a moment. Secondly, mother nature was calling.

A minute later, you heard someone leave their stall and wash their hands. Then the door opened and you heard a second pair of feet. Now there were three people in the restroom.

“Hey,” Emily said so someone.

“Hi,” JJ said back and instantly, your blood boiled. You rolled your eyes, about to just leave so you wouldn’t have to hear this, but then suddenly she spoke again, and the words caught your attention. “Did I ever tell you about the Redskins game? Gosh, 14 years ago, now? Well, uh, Spence--Spence got us good tickets. Actually, Gideon gave them to him., and talked him into asking me to go. So you know, I just figured all the youngest team members should hang out, so I, of course, asked Garcia to come along. Ugh.” She made a sound of embarrassment. “Turns out Morgan and Hotch were giving him pointers on the side thinking it was going to be a date.”

Emily made a sort of amused noise before JJ continued.

“Gosh, I mean, he’d never been on one before. Poor Spence. He didn’t know what to do.”

You closed your eyes and slowly shook your head. You were trying to remember this was a long time ago, and that he’d proven he didn’t want her like that any more. But right now, with him missing, and her remembering this date so… fondly…. It was really crawling up your spine.

“I’m just glad he forgave me.”

“Ah, he adores you,” Emily implored. “And it sounds like that was the beginning of something even better. The 3 of you have been inseparable since I met you.”

Suddenly, it sounded like JJ got choked up and said, “I don’t know how to do this without them. If we can’t get them back--”

“It’s okay,” Emily assured and that was your cue. You ripped open the stall door and stared at JJ and Emily. They broke apart and JJ’s eyes slightly widened at you.

“Uh, Y/N, I didn’t realize you were in here,” she suddenly said, trying to wipe her eyes.

“Yeah, I bet you didn’t,” you all but spat. “Probably wouldn’t be going on about a date you had with my husband years ago if you didn’t. Maybe we should call Will and tell him how fond you are of that time?” you asked, your eyes narrowing.

“Y/N,” Emily said carefully.

“No, this is not okay,” you said, your eyes shooting to hers. “I know their missing but using this to cash in on some missed connection with my husband is fucking sick, don’t you think?”

“We’re all a little high strung right now,” Emily started. “Let’s just take a breather. She didn’t mean anything by it. We all want Spencer and Penelope to come back home safe and sound.”

“Yeah maybe some more than others. Emily, do you know what she did? What she’s trying to do to my family?” you shouted. “She’s waited years to bring this up, and now… now that Spence is missing it’s just--”

A knock came to the bathroom door before Dexter suddenly poked his head in.

“Everything okay in here?” he asked, eyeing the three of you.

“No, it’s not okay. JJ thinks it’s fine to just--”

“Okay, yeah, we’re just going to take a little walk, alright?” he asked, stepping in and putting his hands on your shoulders from behind to pivot you out.

“Let go of me, Dex!” you ordered.

“As soon as you calm the fuck down. This isn’t the time or place to lose your cool. You need to remember who you are, and what you do, and what your mission is right now,” he informed once he got you at the end of the hallway, in a secluded corner. His face was just inches from yours as he tired to get you to focus up. “Remember your husband is on the line. You can deal with this other shit later, right?”

You sighed, running your hands through your hair. “You’re right. You’re right. You’re always right,” you said in defeat. You shook your head. “This case...whew….” You blew out air and kept shaking your head. “Dex, I…. I’ve been thinking, and… I love my husband very much. I would do anything for him. He’s my one true love. I can’t imagine life without him,” you explained watching his face as he tried to digest what you were saying. “I want you to know that… if it ever came down to it… to choosing him over what we do, I’ll choose him. Every time. I need to know that you’re okay with that.”

He blinked for a few seconds, looking at you, searching your face for questions to answers that you weren’t sure of.

“Okay. Yeah. I can respect that,” he agreed.

“Thank you. I just… I can’t lose him, and if I get him back....I don’t want to lose him to the other side of me. I can’t live without him. I hope you can understand.”

“I do,” he assured with a nod. “When my brother tried to kill Deb, I just… I guess I snapped. Sure, Bryan was blood, he was like me, but he wasn’t the one who had always been there for me. Deb knows me. We shared a childhood, a father, a mother. We work together. Bryan was just a distant memory to me. I chose her because I guess… a life without her seemed a hell of a lot harder than losing Bryan. He was nothing to me, I’d lived without him this long…”

“Because you love her,” you assured. “It’s the same reason you protect Rita, Deb, everyone you’re close to.”

“I think you forget my diagnosis.”

“I think you devolve into self-fulfilling prophecies,” you accused with a half smile. “Thank you for being here with me,” you said, squeezing his arm.

“Sure. You wanna get back to the investigation now?”

You nodded with a smile. The two of you walked into the bullpen where Emily and Rossi were putting together more of Meadows’ profile. Suddenly, it clicked for her and she remembered both of them. They were both at a ranch in Colorado, they were part of a cult then. Meadows was one of the wives the cult leader had taken, and that’s how they knew Merva, he was there too.

Tara, Luke, and Matt set up video to watch it. You’d seen it a few times too, but now it meant more. There were kids they were trying to rescue, Prentiss and Spence had gone in undercover. Then the place had exploded, killing the messiah, now they were out for revenge. Emily and JJ approached with news that local FBI was guarding the ranch, and that the women and kids were offered a fresh start through WITSEC. That’s where Meadows took her chance - she accepted help, knowing she’d betray the government.

You were listening, your eyes flashed to Dexter, when behind him, a battered Garcia came in.

“Holy shit. Are you okay?” you asked, breezing past Dex to get to her. You put your hands on her shoulders just as she began talking.

“It’s a warehouse that’s in Hillcrest. 18 minutes,” she informed, clearly distraught. “I can take you there. You gotta hurry. They hurt Reid, he’s been bleeding there. They’re in trucks with Theo. I heard a gunshot. It’s a warehouse--” Garcia began again and you closed your eyes before hugging her. She was still talking. She was in shock.

“Someone grab a jacket, or a blanket, or something,” you directed.

“On it,” Luke said quickly.

“Garcia, Garcia, listen to me. Is Spence okay?” you asked but she just kept rambling. You looked to Dexter, worry evident in your eyes. Within three minutes, the team was geared up and ready to head out the door on Garcia’s directions.

“We’re going to the warehouse now,” Emily informed. “Y/N, are you coming? You can’t come as an agent but I’ll let you ride along.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.” You turned to Dexter as you walked by. “You’re coming with me. I can’t do this without you. If he’s…. If he’s not--”

“He’s going to be fine. Your team is good. They’re serial killers, Y/N, they aren’t just going to shoot him and walk away. It’s all about a protocol, and MO with these people. If they really want him to be his 300th victim, they won’t do it unceremoniously.”

You nodded, choking back tears and the lump in your throat as he spoke to you.

“Alright. Let’s go find my husband.”

He gave you a nod and the two of you left, joining the team in an SUV. They raced to the warehouse. You stayed in the car, too nerve wracked to go in. Dexter and you sat quietly, and the team came out. They shook their heads.

Emily got in the car with you. “He wasn’t in there. They killed Theo though. That must’ve been the gunshot Garcia heard.”

“Then… where did they take him?” you wondered.

With that, Emily and the team called Garcia and JJ. Spence apparently told Garcia that it all happens at 10:23, but it was past that time so no one knew what it meant. She explained how they made her rig the system so they could get past weigh stations and clear the trucks of all history. She blamed herself and you felt so bad for her.

Now all of you were racking your brains trying to figure out what that could possibly mean. Theories and ideas were flying across the room. Garcia suddenly remembered that Cyrus was technically reborn in Kentucky due to his prison time.

At least it was a start. All of you boarded the plane and more ideas continued to go around. Dexter even threw in a couple of bible passages he knew, and you threw in one as well, but nothing was sticking until JJ found something.

The team realized it was Arcadia, a synonym of Eden, that he needed to be found in. You wanted to relax, but what if you all were wrong? What if it was a misdirect? What if it wasn’t the right place at all?

But then, Garcia pulled land deeds, and sure enough, Merva had land in the area. The team landed, got their gear on, and you joined them.

Emily put her hand up as she was fastening her vest when you picked a vest up. “Woah, hey, I don’t think you should be in the field on this one.”

“They have Spence, Emily. My husband? I’m not going to sit in the car on this one. I need to be here. It’s one more pair of hands to help in case the situation gets out of hand.”

She eyed you up and down but then nodded. With that, you put the vest on, strapped on your gun, pulled your hair back into a small bun, and all of you got into the cars to make your way to the plot of land they owned.

SWAT and your team stealthily walked across the land as Dexter stayed behind in the cars. You wanted him there with you, knowing he would kill better, quieter, and faster than most of the others, but seeing as he was just forensics to the FBI, he wasn’t allowed anywhere near this.

You took out one gunman from behind, before sweeping around a tent, and suddenly, the sound of Heaven filled your ears -- Spencer was talking. He was alive, thank God. You wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but you still needed to be quiet.

Then Meadows said he was stalling and suddenly he was silent again. Your heart felt heavy again but you plucked up, realizing he needed you now more than ever.

The team was still patrolling as Merva was speaking, when suddenly Rossi saw one of the Believers and shot him, before he could shoot Rossi. Immediately, everyone made a break for the front, where the sacrifice was taking place. Matt, Emily, and you stormed the area. Matt took out two men with automatic guns when Merva ran towards Spence with the knife at his throat.

“Merva!” you shouted, and as soon as he turned, you shot at him - twice. He fell down and Emily ran to check his pulse. With everyone away from Spence, you immediately went to his side, unbuckling him from the wood he was strapped too.

“Are you okay?” you asked, worry in your voice.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assured just as you got the last buckle undone. He fell into your arms and you hugged him tighter than you ever had in your life before peppering his cheeks and lips with kisses. You didn’t care who was around or if PDA was a problem for anyone. You almost lost the love of your life.

Which then reminded you that behind you was a pack of wild animals that were willing to let him get sacrificed. Your bloodlust kicked into maximum overdrive and you had to mentally calm yourself.

You helped him out of the area and got him back to the SUV where Dexter stood, leaning against the car waiting for you all.

When he saw you, he smiled, extending his hand. “You must be the famous Dr. Reid,” he said cheerfully.

Spence took his hand.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” he asked.

“Oh, Spence, this is Dexter. He’s… he’s a good friend from Miami. He came up to support me and help on this case,” you informed.

“Ah. Well, I’m glad to meet you.”

“I’m glad you’re okay. This one was going out of her mind,” Dex said as he looked at you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, apologizing before kissing your hair. “I never want to make you worry.”

“Well let’s just get you home, okay?”

On the way back, you rode in the back of the SUV, sandwiched between Dexter and Spence. You rested your head on Spencer’s, smiling every so often at Dex. For just a few moments, life, despite being messy, felt completely right between these two.

On the plane ride back, Dexter sat across from you two and Spencer and him got to know each other rather well. Dex seemed to like to pick his brain, and Spencer seemed to like getting asked a million and one questions about himself or any myriad of things.

It didn’t go unnoticed by you that JJ had glanced your way a few times with an odd look on her face. You returned the look, keeping your expression even.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#inside the criminal mind #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #dexter #dexter morgan #dexter morgan fic #dexter fic

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gamingfestive258 · 3 years

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What kind of desktop should i get for gaming

Gaming Grabs The Higher Score On Twitter

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15 Warnings About GAMING You Need To Learn To Succeed

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Description: This gaming podcast is hosted by a crew of San Francisco developers, formerly of such studios as Telltale Games and Double Fine. It was started merely for fun, where random conversations between the presenters were recorded and put on the Web. It's evolved into a space exactly where the presenters get to speak about a topic they are passionate about, i.e. games - and the result is hugely enjoyable.

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hidevpn · 3 years

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Best VPNs in 2020 for PC, Mac, & Phone – a hundred% SECURE

Finding the first-class VPN to maintain you secure on-line feels not possible. There are loads of VPNs out there, and every one claims it’s the great.

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The Best VPNs – Full Analysis (Updated October 2020) Our group is spread throughout more than forty nations round the world, and we conducted masses of exams over numerous months to discover which VPNs presented the excellent speeds, protection, and reliability. We browsed, downloaded, streamed, and torrented for weeks on end to convey you those confirmed consequences.

1. NordVPN – Great Balance of Price and Performance

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ExpressVPN has three,000+ high-pace servers at one hundred sixty global places. It’s additionally one of the fastest VPNs we’ve tested. We performed lots of velocity checks to verify this, and we’ve protected our UK consequences underneath in your evaluation. As predicted, connecting to close by servers yielded the satisfactory consequences. But we were also impressed with the fact that our connections to the US and Australia were also proper—simply 22% and 35% drops, respectively. This is terrific information for streamers and torrenters round the sector.

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somethingwithartichoke · 4 years

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A story about a boy who lost his shirt.

This boy was in college living in the dormitory with a bunch of others. He was kind spirited and liked to be happy with everyone around and everyone liked his company... until they played a joke on him that left him broken.

Some of the girls in his dormitory took a bunch of his shirts since he had a fantastic sense of fashion and as a practical joke. He looked frantically around his clothes for them and eventually gave up but later saw them being worn by the girls in the common area.

He asked for them back and playfully they said no. His heart sank and his face shattered with tears is the last thing they saw before he silently walked away, crying lines down his face.

He heard them call after him but he continued to walk up, over, and out the front door. He walked and walked until he sat down at a cold bench at the park in the edge of night. He shook as he cried and had no intention of stopping. His eyes became red from overuse and his breathing became strained as his control slowly thinned. He felt his heart sink into its socket and pain enveloped his voice as he cried out. He covered his eyes while his breath cut into pieces as his chest grew and shrank erratically. The cold covered every vulnerable spot on his body and his tears felt frozen on his face. Hours felt like minutes and he finally went home. He left the girls behind in the common room where they had waited for him without saying a word, he hadn’t stopped crying. In front of his room he found the shirts they took from him; the shirts they said they wouldn’t give back...

His roommate became very concerned when he saw how he looked and asked if he was ok but he didn’t answer. Instead he remained silent and went to his bed to sleep. He was still crying.

The morning one of the girls needed to throw trash out at the same time had found the shirts that she and others had taken. She gathered the rest and went to his room to check on him. There they were welcomed by his roommate and they saw how badly he was doing. His eyes were red and his face weary; but he stopped crying, until he saw them. They all apologized with sorrys and regret but was that supposed to trigger something in him? He got out of bed being afternoon, got ready and left them there with his tears being their trail to find him.

They found him minutes later, apron on, washing the dishes tears and all. Even though he was in pain he still had his work to do. They watched from the corner and as he was finished washing the last plate he threw it on the ground. The shatter alarmed everyone and everyone around saw him. Eyes open, tears streaming down his face. His arms strained and his body shaking. His voice breaching his breath and his breathing quick and choppy. He was not ok.

He looked down at the plate and saw what he had done. He saw the pieces scatter over the floor, the water splash in every direction. He untied his apron and put it away before grabbing the brush and pan. He slowly sweeped all the pieces into the pan and mopped up the water. Throwing the broken pieces he left the dormitory. The time spent while he was away everyone began talking about what had happened while the girls explained why he acted this way.

When he came back he had another plate in hand which he set down on the counter next to the sink and quietly left.

At this point everyone became worried for him and tried talking to him about how he felt but he only every responded with silence. Soon it felt like no one could remember what his voice sounded like.

One of them figured he would get over it soon but hours turned to days and days turned into months and he only got worse and worse. They all began to monitor him closely and even made a group chat just to keep everyone updated on his behavior.

It became a routine. His crying face, his shaking body, the way his face made your heart break, how he wanted to shrink and disappear made everyone anxious. Sometimes he broke something only to immediately clean and replace it. The cycle became torture to watch. He had been the one who made everyone think college was bearable but now they thought college wasn’t so important as of right now. They wanted their friend back.

Now they all gathered to confront him of his feelings as he sat quietly in the commons of the dormitory. The girls had again apologized and everyone wanted him to talk about how he felt but he stayed silent and looked away, eyes red and swollen. The tears didn’t stop. One of the made a remark they shouldn’t have.

“It’s just a shirt”

He immediately stood up and punched him, hard, in his cheek. Enough force to throw him into a few others behind him and at that moment they saw it, His anger. His face, his body, his eyes, full of rage. Everything that led up to this point just to see what he felt. His face in pain, His body tense, his fingers digging into his palms, the red of his eyes mixing with the transparency of his tears showed all of his pain.

That moment didn’t last long as his body gave in and his posture grew slack and his face broke down. From where everyone was standing they could see what had become of him. The was he looked at them all, in that moment they might have been able to understand what pain looked like.

His rage only lasted a second before filling again with sadness and his breath became erratic and his eyes out focus. His muscles couldn’t hold themselves together and he finally walked away, silently crying his eyes out as everyone quietly watched him leave the dormitory again.

When he came back he found no one in the commons as he passed to get to his room. His roommate was still awake when he came in but stayed silent, eyes following him as he walked over to his bed. The sorrow he felt for him was large in quantity and he finally spoke.

“Would you maybe try group therapy?”

He heard his roommate say and silence was his response. He heard his roommate shuffle in his bed before he fell asleep crying.

The day of the therapy he sat in a circle with others and all spoke of their problems. He finally spoke of his in which another remarked:

“It’s just a shirt”

He immediately got up. His eyes tense, his jaw tightened and his breathing deep and quick. He quietly made his way to the door, threw it open and slowly walked away, tears in his eyes.

When he got to his room his roommate tried to console him. Sitting next to him on his bed as he cried, breath in pieces. He tried his best to offer any comfort he could but he shook him off and cried himself to sleep.

Everyone was texting about the situation as he slept. How he was getting worse with each passing day. They even tried getting him new shirts but he left them outside of the room as he left. Now everyone was frantic, they weren’t sure how to help him to which one of the girls in the dormitory snapped.

*if he doesn’t want our help then I won’t try anymore!

Everyone was in uproar over her statement but she finally had enough. The next day she confronted him and yelled at him. She said that everyone was just trying to help him but he had done nothing but push them away. She said she wanted to help him but if he didn’t want her help then he can suffer.

His face shrank and he felt his whole body suffer pain. His arms holding his sides as he got up from his seat and walked past her crying silently. Going up in the elevator he broke down and began crying loudly, his face hot, on his knees. His stomach was in pain and his muscles felt sore. His roommate was the first to arrive and he quickly helped him up by his arm and helped him walk back to their room with his arm under his.

The final straw was made when his roommate came back to their room only to see a Jack Ketch knot hanging from a nail on the wall. He told everyone from the group chat and everyone went into a frenzy. Had they known it would get this bad they would never tried to joke with him. They were going to confront him tonight when he came back... except he didn’t. 11:00 pm where he should have been back by now.

*has anyone seen him?

*you don’t think

*WE NEED TO FIND HIM NOW!

And everyone scattered, leaving the dormitory and out into town looking everywhere they could think of but half an hour later and one of them did.

*found him

*is he

*alive

*im going to talk to him

He was sitting on a bench across town at the park, crying, looking into his hands as they caught his tears. He looked next to him only to see his roommate looking at him with his own tears in his eyes before holding onto him tightly.

“I’m sorry”

#story

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winterysomnium · 5 years

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What’s left (is you) [2/3]; ; Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku;BNHA; word count: 4,900+ words; rated: PG-15; warnings: slight gore, violence,full tags on AO3;

notes: hii decided to update since I edited the parts I wanted for this chapter and the more I read it over the more I doubt myself so it might be better to just post it. Thank you for all the support on AO3! ♥

summary: After the pro hero Deku loses his memory as a result of an assassination attempt, Shouto is struggling to cope with everything his boyfriend’s recovery entails: from the threat of another attack to the possibility of Izuku’s memories never coming back.

(Oh, and did Shouto forget to mention that he’s 90% sure Izuku was trying to break up with him before the attack, on top of everything?)

read the story on AO3

The first week Izuku’s back home is the easiest by far.

Shouto has a lot of paperwork to sort out and Izuku’s mostly spending time with his Mom; he can’t really watch too much TV or be active on his social media at all, so they chat to each other all day and Shouto gives them privacy, as much as he can. Their apartment came with an extra room they didn’t have any particular use for so Shouto put in tatami and essentially turned it into a copy of his dorm room: he keeps a spare futon rolled out in there most of the time anyway.

(As nice as beds with mattresses and thick covers were, some nights Shouto preferred the simplicity and comfort of the soft futon and the feel of tatami under his feet and Izuku respected that, indiscriminately.)

Whenever Izuku was on a long mission out of town, Shouto tended to sleep there rather than alone in their bed, the space too vast without the other, somehow. It was also where Izuku would surprise him sometimes by arriving early, pressing Shouto into the sleepy futon and they’d fuck, sweetly, heatedly; they missed each other enough to just stay there all day, soak in the soft, tender affection.

It’s been a while since Izuku has lost to his want and desire completely, loving Shouto to the core like that.

It all adds to the situation: Izuku’s in their bed thinking it’s solely his own, he has been keeping something from Shouto that neither of them know now and they hadn’t had proper time to be with each other for about two weeks before the attack.

It strengthens Shouto’s resolve not to say anything, to keep lying about their relationship, by omission.

(He doesn’t want to have to explain all that to Izuku, anytime soon.)

Shouto can hear Izuku’s Mom talking with him softly through the door and Shouto feels like he’s eavesdropping, listening in on something sacred and raw.

The first night they’re all home, he lets his frustration and fear slide down his nose and drip into the pillow: it needed airing and the covers a wash, anyway, so he does nothing to stop the tears. All the pictures of him and Izuku were hidden away and it almost felt like Shouto was a spirit: he’s stumbled into a future he fears, an intruder of an incomplete home, of a frightening possibility. It’s almost like they’ve really broken up, like his thoughts have created a universe of their own, throwing him in.

And yet it doesn’t compare to the feeling of accompanying Inko to her train and driving the two of them home, alone for the first time in weeks and as Izuku hums along to a new pop song he’s had the opportunity to memorize already, Shouto’s glad he doesn’t have to talk.

In twenty minutes, they’re alone in the apartment and Shouto’s reheating yesterday’s leftovers, the atmosphere between them thin but sluggish, awkward in a strange, unfamiliar way.

It reminds him of the first time they’ve had a fight, when Shouto was 18 and the notion of being loved hasn’t sunken in yet properly, a weekend away at his family home was enough for him to return moody, shaken and torn between setting himself or everything around him on fire; closing himself off from anyone he could hurt the only option left. The thought scared -- no, terrified -- him and he got overwhelmed, he’d pushed Izuku away and he yelled something dumb and hurtful and he made Izuku cry, Izuku didn’t let it show but Shouto saw him rub his sleeve across his cheeks forcefully.

They were shipped off to a field day together the next morning in class and Izuku was upset and angry and didn’t even want to look Shouto’s way and Shouto was sure he had destroyed everything, everything that truly mattered in his life (his heart).

(Perhaps there was a curse, after all, to become his father, to become his hated half, to become the person who hurt Izuku the most.)

Shouto apologized after their class had ended; resting his forehead against Izuku’s tense back, his shoulders so guarded he felt unreachable, like a pretty sea shell at the bottom of the waves.

Shouto apologized, said he’d understand if Izuku wanted to break up but that he didn’t want to, really, really didn’t want to and the spot where he rested his face against Izuku’s costume was damp and heavy with salt, with his unspoken apology. It was then that Izuku’s defenses seemed to thaw, just enough for him to open up his arms, his warm self to Shouto’s lost hopes.

Izuku probably realized just how scattered Shouto was that day.

(Shouto wasn’t a cracked pane of glass or a cup with a chip on the rim; he was a fully crushed human being, a plate shattered against the far wall.)

He has just started to meld some of his pieces together.

If Izuku held him in his palms, he’d get cut.

The atmosphere now feels tentative in the same way but he tries not to mind it: he puts their plates onto their usual spots while Izuku pours them hot tea.

They exchange a soft, quiet itadakimasu and start eating; Izuku keeps looking up at him across the table and Shouto tries not to see.

“Todoroki-kun?” Izuku asks as Shouto puts down his chopsticks to place his cup to his lips, he’s trying to swallow down the dry, irritating lump in his throat. Izuku still holds his chopsticks and fumbles around with a piece of chicken between them on his plate.

“Hmm?” Shouto hums rather than answers and he drinks his tea too fast; the liquid still a touch scalding on the roof of his mouth. “What is it?”

“What’s your favourite food? It feels kind of stupid to ask now but I’ve been trying to remember what it was all evening but -- couldn’t. So, will you tell me again?” The question is innocent and so is Izuku’s expression: he’s genuinely curious and yet it confuses Shouto’s heart.

(He’s happy about his favourite food being something important, he’s saddened about it being something Izuku doesn’t know.)

He smiles softly, hoping his flush can be blamed on the tea.

“Zarusoba. Iida tended to scold me for never eating anything else in high school.”

Izuku snorts, likes he’s relieved, finally putting the chicken bite into his mouth. “He seems like the type. Do we usually eat dinner together, the two of us?” He gestures and Shouto picks up his chopsticks again, too.

“When we can. Our schedules don’t always match up, though.”

“Who’s the better cook?”

“Your Mom.”

Izuku snorts once more, his grin matching Shouto’s own amused look.

This is nice, Shouto concludes, in its simplicity, its given rules.

Shouto feels … nice.

“And here I thought you’d be a chef supreme, given your quirk,” Izuku notes, amused and Shouto shakes his head, regretfully.

“The only thing I’ve ever successfully made was rice porridge.”

“Am I good at cooking?”

“Not particularly. Bakugou’s been teaching you though. He gave up on me, if that’s any consolation.”

“Huh, Kacchan didn’t say.”

“He’s probably mortified by the thought of you calling him out on doing something nice and helpful for once and someone overhearing.”

“Ah, yeah, probably. He kept insisting he only visited me because Ochako kept pestering him and it was annoying. He’s … kind of a bad liar, isn’t he?”

“And he’s even worse at being honest. Just watching him sometimes is exhausting,” Shouto agrees and it’s as if that word -- exhausting -- has unlocked all of the fatigue trapped within his bones, all at once.

An early night sounds like the best kind of plan for tonight.

They finish dinner and leave the dirty plates in the sink; they wish each other goodnight at the thresholds of their neighboring rooms.

If he tries hard enough, Shouto could pretend that Izuku’s just going to his night shift and he’ll find Shouto in the morning, cuddling up sleepily into his back.

If he tries hard enough, he’ll remember the feeling of Izuku’s kisses on his temple.

If he tries hard enough, maybe his chest will stop aching, so tirelessly.

---

Shouto’s Wednesday isn’t really going well as is, the attack investigation not progressing beyond what they already know: the incident was a coordinated effort to take down and favorably assassinate -- that word still makes Shouto’s heart stop, every damn time -- the hero Deku, attacking all of the bigger agencies in the area in order to isolate him and complicate any backup attempts, with the ultimate goal of rendering him unable to continue his hero duties any further.

But they still don’t know who instigated it or if there are more factions than the cluster of villains they’ve caught and as much as Shouto’s glad that he’s gotten leave to unofficially guard Deku 24/7, not being able to take part in the interrogations is frustrating in itself and it leaves him restless, hyper aware of how inactive he is.

What he needs is a good, long, proper sparring session.

What he gets is a call from his Father.

Despite them being -- reconciled, of sorts, a decade of stored anger and resentment isn’t something you can simply wish away and Shouto’s been working on it, he has and his therapist would probably tell him not to answer the phone if he’s already in the middle of a constant low grade anxiety attack but here he is, answering the phone like an idiot, snapping at every question and riling up both of their tempers, needlessly.

The call is short, shorter than his Father intended and Shouto knows Endeavor just wanted to comfort him, in his own way, that he just wanted to be the soothing parent to his son that he’d never truly been when Shouto was a child but … it feels misplaced.

(Why couldn’t he have tried sooner?)

On top of that, Shouto’s Mother is away on her planned spa treatment and her cell phone access is limited, which has probably fuelled Endeavor’s check up call further, and that’s partly on Shouto as well. Shouto told her to absolutely not come back when everything happened, that they’re fine, Mom please, please but right now Shouto just wants to curl up and beg his Mother to hold him until he forgets he’s no longer five.

That or break his Father’s nose.

Calm down, he tells himself, his quirks buzzing louder than his heartbeat through his head; he can feel how drastically different his opposing fingers feel to touch.

Man, today really sucked.

Shouto didn’t notice Izuku was sitting on the couch until he stands up, putting the book he’s been reading away.

“Todoroki-kun? Are you alright?” Izuku asks carefully, the concern so obvious on his face it’s almost painfully endearing.

Almost.

Shouto sighs. Rather than a spar, maybe he just needs a nap.

“I’m fine, Midoriya,” he says, trying to convince himself alongside Izuku and if that name -- Midoriya -- isn’t just another layer of messed up twisting his skin tighter and tighter, he doesn’t know what is.

Breathe. Don’t think about your Father. Think about something you have to do.

(You have to stop getting so angry about stupid things, first of all.)

Izuku draws him out of his thoughts, effortlessly.

“I know this might not be the best time to say this but -- I’m sorry, Todoroki-kun. For what I said.” Izuku fidgets and Shouto blinks, trying to remember when Izuku said anything that he’d need to apologize for -- his mind is unhelpfully blank.

“Sorry for what?”

“For what I said about getting to meet your Father, the first time we talked about him. How I said how excited I must have been to meet him and all that. I’ve noticed your reaction was sort of -- off at the time but I couldn’t tell why and I still don’t know what happened between you but I think -- I think he hurt you somehow, has been hurting you and I didn’t even consider thinking about your family situation and that not everyone even has a family and -- I. I just. I’m sorry, for not noticing sooner. For not apologizing sooner.” Izuku’s eyebrows center his expression into a frown and he’s wringing his hands, like he’s trying to iron out all the scars and crooked fractures, like they’re physical marks of his mistakes --

Shouto’s been thoroughly disarmed.

“You don’t have to apologize for that. It’s not your fault,” he insists, sort of bewildered that it’s an issue at all.

That Izuku’s been weighted down by something like this.

Izuku wring his hands harder. “It kind of is.”

“Midoriya --” Shouto tries but he knows there’s no arguing that look Izuku gives him, that look of not backing down, of doing whatever he’s set his mind on doing --

It’s your power!

Shouto slumps in his shoulders.

He’s so, so tired and yet Izuku just existing gives him something akin to hope.

“You were the first person I’ve ever told about it,” Shouto confesses, quietly and he hears Izuku’s weight shifting on the couch, he’s watching him over its back, resting his knees on the cushions.

He’s still supposed to be on bed rest, technically.

“So we were close?” Izuku asks and Shouto lets out a breathy laugh at the memory.

Are you All Might’s secret love child or something?

“No, not really. We’ve barely talked when I approached you. I guess I just thought you could relate, somehow.”

There’s a pause, like the world’s stopped to take in a lungful of air, giving Izuku a moment to recreate the unknown memory.

“Not many people know, do they?”

“No.”

“Why… why haven’t I told anyone? Everyone?”

“Because you knew that’s not what I wanted.”

Izuku looks down onto his own clasped hands, a little less high strung. He looks oddly regretful, like he’s realizing he’s made a mistake on a test he’s just handed over, like he’s forgotten something important at home. “I guess I can understand that. He was already the number two hero when I was in middle school and something like that would surely cause uproar, whatever it is. And more than anything, I probably wanted to protect you…” he trails off and there’s warmth spreading throughout Shouto’s limbs, despite how bone weary the rest of him feels.

“You’re the same as always, aren’t you, Midoriya? You still want to help everyone, memories or not.”

“Ah, do I?” Now Izuku’s the one who looks a little bewildered, a little sheepish, eyes and mouth shy.

Shouto smiles; he’s surprised how easy the expression comes. “I admire that about you,” he says.

And oh, Shouto must be imagining the slight flush on Izuku’s face, the way he ducks his head, away from Shouto’s face.

It must be just another illusion of the sun.

---

[ 2:57pm; from: Yaoyorozu]

How are you two holding up? Please greet Izuku-san for me.

[3:01pm; to: Yaoyorozu]

we’re fine. will do.

[3:03pm; from: Yaoyorozu]

Has he remembered anything yet?

[3:07 pm; to: Yaoyorozu]

not yet.

I’ve got some files on Point Blank and the others involved in the attack from the Endeavor agency

I’ll send them over.

[3:10pm; from: Yaoyorozu]

That would be most helpful! It would be good to finally find more clues in there. Hopefully Izuku-san will recover soon as well.

[3:11pm; to: Yaoyorozu]

thank you.

[3:47pm; from: Yaoyorozu]

Just for the record, you can count on me, Shouto. Call me if there’s anything I can do. Okay?

Shouto doesn’t answer, but he knows.

He knows.

---

There were times when Shouto regretted giving Fuyumi a key to their apartment.

Right now is definitely, hundred percent one of those times.

“Shouto! You weren’t answering my calls this morning so I came in to check if everything was okay!” Fuyumi enters the apartment with the confidence of a winter storm on the first day of holidays and she slips out of her boots and into her designated slippers with surprising agility; Shouto swears he barely blinks before she pulls him into a heartfelt hug, leaping through the living room.

“Hey, little bro. Long time no see,” Natsuo greets him as well, thoroughly ruffling Shouto’s hair a minute later and messing it up with a delighted smile.

He’s always been oddly entertained by leaving Shouto’s hair a convoluted mess.

“Fuyumi, Natsuo,” Shouto addresses them, too frazzled to say anything more.

Fuyumi gives him one more good squeeze and spots Izuku walking out of the kitchen, lured out by all the noise and aims her fond, welcoming energy towards him, too, just a touch softer, a touch more reserved.

“Izuku-kun,” she calls out and Shouto’s face gets red simultaneously with Izuku’s; Fuyumi holds Izuku’s shoulders gently before she wraps him in a loose hug, careful of his lingering aches.

“I’m happy to see you look so well!” she lets out a relieved sigh against his shoulder and Shouto definitely prefers Natsuo’s subtler methods: he just waves at Izuku from where he’s leaning on Shouto’s shoulder; he’s never been one for hugs.

“Ah, um, thank you --” Izuku’s eyes slide over to Shouto, taking in the appearance of the siblings, the resemblance is unmistakable. “--um, Todoroki-san?” he tests out and Fuyumi steps away, there’s a somber undercurrent to her smile.

She hasn’t really been a person Izuku could recognize from his middle school days and it sinks in that it’s still the case; Izuku’s memories still lost at sea.

“Just Fuyumi works just fine, Izuku-kun! I’m Shouto’s older sister. That’s Natsuo, Shouto’s older brother. We helped the two of you move in way back so I still have the spare key Shouto gave me!”

“That was for emergencies only, Fuyumi,” Shouto complains, rubbing at his cheek, suddenly itchy and a little too warm, not entirely from Natsuo’s added weight at his side.

“Well you weren’t answering your phone. I was worried.”

“I forgot it in my room. I’m fine.”

“I’ve also missed you, you know. Natsuo did too,” Fuyumi points out and Natsuo glances away with a look that says he wants to protest but knows it would be an embarrassingly see-through lie: they’ve gotten fairly close over the past several years.

“I was thinking we could all go out for lunch together! Our treat,” Fuyumi continues, her disarming smile fully equipped to defeat any and all half assed excuses Shouto could come up with, Izuku’s feeble attempts to decline just as ineffective against her charm.

Shouto won’t even try to fight her on it, not with the way she steers the group to the door.

“You don’t have to do that, Todoroki-san,” Izuku tries, nonetheless and Shouto gives him points for doing so but Fuyumi just waves her hand dismissively.

“Please? I don’t get many opportunities to spoil my little brother and he’s definitely not going to go without you. Also, I can share all the good Shouto stories. What do you say? You won’t deprive me of the rare opportunity to mildly embarrass my brother in front of his friends, will you?” she pleads and Shouto’s not sure he likes the curious, conspiratorial grin Fuyumi and Izuku exchange between them but on the other hand, he’s willing to sacrifice a bit of dignity to see Izuku smile like this.

Relaxed, eager, interested in stories about Shouto like Shouto matters, like he’s important in Izuku’s life.

Natsuo snorts at Shouto’s face knowingly and messes his hair up some more.

(Shouto doesn’t bat his hand away.)

He doesn’t regret giving Fuyumi the key, anymore either.

(He fully regrets it again two hours later after his sister’s told yet another story about him that startles a laugh out of Izuku and it would be so much better if it wasn’t about five year old Shouto’s misconception of where babies come from.

Oh, well.

Izuku’s laugh still might be worth it, in the end.)

---

[group chat]

Midoriya: guys!! why didn’t you tell me we have movie nights on Thursdays!!

Uraraka: aah, you found out about that huh >>;;;. did Todoroki tell you?

Bakugou: wtf Deku it’s not even Thursday for like three more days. shut up some of us have work to do

Midoriya: well SOME of us have been betrayed by their own classmates??

Midoriya: and roommate??

Midoriya: it was my turn to choose the movie too! and I had to find out because of an alert on the TV

Midoriya: of all things!

Iida: Izuku-kun, I take it you’re doing alright? Also, we always cancel our weekly cinema viewing when someone’s badly injured, so I was going to send out an official cancelation message tomorrow as well.

Jirou: fr once im with Bakugou … as much as I am happy yurr ok Midoriya, Ive gotten home from my shift like two hours ago.I havent slept in like two days. imma be gone now, bye

Ashido: oh hey guys! and I’m sorryyyy Midoriya-chaaaan, but that’s the law of 1-A! Also honestly I’ve forgotten that you’ve forgotten@@

Uraraka: yeah yeah! and if you want we can have one this week!

Uraraka: also you didn’t kill Todoroki right he hasn’t said anything yet

Todoroki: I was in the shower.

Tokoyami: is it wise to have one when Midoriya still hasn’t recovered

Tokoyami: it might be a lot to take in

Midoriya: I think it’ll be fine! I’ve been talking here more often over the past few days so movie banter should be fine as well, right?

Uraraka: do you even know that many movies, with your memories?

Midoriya: hmmm I think so?

Midoriya: I can get help from Todoroki, too

Todoroki: sure thing, Midoriya. but tell me if you get a headache.

Ashido: aren’t you both at home?

Ashido: why are you texting each other on here ;;; weirdos

Kaminari: speaking of movies!! have you guys heard about the new All Might movie documentary???!!!

Midoriya: oh my god

Midoriya: OH MY GOD THERE MUST BE SO MANY NEW HERO DOCUS

Uraraka: Izuku-kun?

Uraraka: …

Uraraka: I think we lost him orz

Todoroki: is it a good time to show him his hero DVD collection

Midoriya: MY WHAT

Midoriya: TODOROKI

Uraraka: oh he was still here!!

Ashido: also did Kaminari just come in here to say that

Uraraka: looks like it

Ashido: guess we’ll talk about the movie night later then? have a good day everyone! It’s really sunny out here in Sapporo!

Uraraka: yeah, for sure! to you too, Mina-chan!!

Uraraka: it was nice to catch up! ^^

Bakugou: I’m muting you all

Bakugou: jsyk

---

Cold, clammy dread sets in Shouto’s chest two seconds after he tells Izuku where to find his extensive hero documentary collection -- there’s a panicked, unwelcome thought stirring at the back of his mind.

Shouto … Shouto thinks he put something in there he didn’t want Izuku to see.

It might not be anything revealing, he tells himself, trying to bring his heart back to its proper place, back to the tight press of his chest. It’s probably a latest hero magazine issue or the various little memories of some trips they’ve taken together or maybe it’s one of the many pictures Izuku has with All Might that Shouto has hidden to avoid some too close questions … it’s probably just the magazine. It’s probably something hero related.

(It’s nothing about them, right?)

Izuku brings the answer with him ten minutes later, carries it in his arms and inside of his shoulders, just when the nervous churning inside of Shouto has subsided, swept away by the quiet lull of sounds.

He should’ve gone with him, shouldn’t he?

“When were you going to tell me?” Izuku asks from the doorway, tone level and low; there’s an odd, wiry stiffness to his shape.

He’s not wringing his hands or moving his feet when Shouto looks up at him, but his voice, his fingers, are trembling against each other.

Izuku’s clutching one of their photo albums in his hands, so tightly the points of contact dip like there’s gravity collapsing around his fingertips and he looks, he looks -- shell shocked. Disappointed. Livid. Hurt.

The dread explodes inside of Shouto’s gut.

Izuku’s anger looks pained, painful.

(Shouto can’t even find words anywhere close to his mouth, lost between his skull and his throat.)

“Were you going to tell me?” Izuku asks once more; he’s subdued, he’s monotone, he’s looking at Shouto like he’s never seen him before, like he’s been replaced.

Shouto’s heart burns in his chest.

“Midoriya --”

“It’s Izuku, isn’t it? It’s probably been Izuku for a while,” Izuku cuts in, something derisive, self-conscious in the tone, like he’s been the punch line of a joke and he’s just found out publicly; like he’s waiting for someone to laugh.

Like he’s looking for someone to blame.

Izuku looks at Shouto.

Shouto feels oddly blank.

“I wasn’t,” he answers, the words slow, sticking to his lips. He’s looking down at his lap and his words feel loud, too loud, too sharp.

(He doesn’t want to look at Izuku, not when he’s saying things like this.

He doesn’t want to see.)

“I wasn’t going to tell you, no.”

Izuku slams the photo book against the table, hard.

(Shouto flinches.)

“Why?” Izuku demands, like he’s the echo of his own voice, like he’s pulling back to throw a punch, stronger, louder, the longer he screams. “There must be a reason, right? I mean -- we still haven’t figured out -- we don’t even know if I’ll ever get my memories back! I might never get them back, Shouto!” he shouts and Shouto’s name feels like a slap, a flicker of burning.

“So tell me! There must be a reason! Were you hoping I wouldn’t remember? Were you trying to end things like this? Like a damn coward? Was it something else? Shouto! Why weren’t you going to tell me? Look at me and tell me!” and Izuku’s -- Izuku’s started to cry.

Shouto’s earlier conviction of his motives, his infallible logic and unshakable decision all feel minuscule: they feel pitiful and selfish when faced with the sense of grief on Izuku’s face, faced with the thick lilt of Izuku’s voice, the starry, wet constellations spilling across the map of his cheeks.

(Shouto feels ashamed.

So, so deeply ashamed.)

He had managed to hurt him, again.

They resonate, Izuku’s feelings, they catch on the hidden depths of Shouto’s fears and wishes and ground-down emotions and they amplify, they amplify, they amplify; Shouto looks at Izuku and he’s trying not to cry, too.

His voice is shaking when he speaks.

(His feelings burst.)

“I didn’t know what I was supposed to say! Was I supposed to say that I love you but don’t know if you still love me the same way? That there was something wrong before you were attacked and that you were lying to me and that I’ve realized you were trying to break up with me? Was I supposed to lie to you back and pretend nothing was wrong? Was I supposed to explain all of this to you two days after you’d woken up from a state so bad we thought you would die?” There’s a tear on Shouto’s lip, a tear that slips down the slope of his chin, a falling star.

It’s okay to cry, he’d been told.

It still feels like he’s stealing Izuku’s sadness, Izuku’s place of hurt, for himself.

Shouto drags his knuckles across his cheek, angrily.

There’s more he wants to say.

“I didn’t want you to think I’ve used your memory loss to -- to make you love me again. How was I -- I didn’t know what to do with all of this. I still don’t know what to do with all of this! I’m no good and you’re too good, Izuku. You’re too kind and you’d feel guilty, you’d feel obligated to return my feelings, you’d be the selfless you that you are and pretend to love me and Izuku, you’d just -- you’d hurt us both, that way. I -- I didn’t want that.”

Shouto touches his lip, tries to swallow the dry feel of his throat and he wonders if this is how bombs feel after they detonate: scattered, light, earth bound, gone.

Destructive.

Bad.

“Shouto,” Izuku breathes, sown into the spot by the thread of Shouto’s pain, his honesty; he feels woven into time.

He kneels in front of Shouto after a beat, his drum of a heart leading his feet; he kneels in front of the man he barely knows yet knows the most of all, the man he wants to comfort and his palms take hold of Shouto’s face, hesitant.

Izuku’s never been faced with a love like this: with someone’s heartbreak unfolding in his palms.

His smile is a seismic curve.

“Damnit, I can’t believe Kacchan was right. We are as bad as each other.” Izuku’s fingers tighten, press, he’s holding onto Shouto as much as Shouto’s holding him, the affection shoved into his gut known and unknown at the same time: he wonders if this is how he feels every day, every time he sees Shouto’s face.

(He thinks he does.)

“Shouto… I -- I’m sorry. I should’ve known you had a reason, but. But I still wish you’d told me.”

“I didn’t know how.” Shouto’s reply barely registers and Izuku bites his mouth, more frustrated than ever by his lack of progress, by the things he’s missing so effortlessly, like they’ve never been part of him in the first place, like they’ve never even been there.

He’s frustrated, he’s tired, he’s scared.

He’s scared this is all it’s ever going to be.

(He can’t let it be just this.)

“I still don’t remember us,” he admits, quietly, something brave and firm rising in his chest, something that pushes every doubt into a place he won’t wander into, anymore.

He’ll remember.

And if he doesn’t, if he doesn’t -- he’ll just relearn Shouto all over again.

“But I will. I’ll remember. And if not then -- then you’ll have to be patient with me. And I might make you wait for me, for a little bit, because I’ll have a lot of things to catch up on and a lot of things to rediscover but -- but, Shouto. From the moment I woke up, you were there for me. And I thought -- I thought you were most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And you were so kind. I felt -- protected. I felt important.” Izuku laughs, a sound almost kissed upon Shouto’s mouth itself. “I was so disappointed when you said we were just roommates. I was so bummed out because I knew you were someone I could see myself falling in love with. Maybe I already am, all over again. So just … bear with me, for a little while longer?” Izuku lifts his lashes, he’s hopeful and determined and brave, so so brave, even with his pulse sprinting ahead, a gated flood.

(Shouto drowns.)

“Okay.”

He presses his face into Izuku’s shoulder and stays.

“I will.”

#tododeku #tddk #Todoroki Shouto #Midoriya Izuku #BNHA #MHA #anything else to tag?

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cindylouwho-2 · 5 years

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RECENT NEWS, RESOURCES & STUDIES, June 2019

Welcome to my latest summary of recent news, resources & studies including search, analytics, content marketing, social media & ecommerce! This covers articles I came across from May 31 to June 21, although some may be older than that.

(Unfortunately, a few of this edition’s entries were lost somehow, & I could only remember one of the missing, so if you know of an article/post that should be included, please let me know, & the piece will be added here as well as to the next post.)

My busy few months are now mostly over, so I will have more time to get working on this Tumblr, new blog posts & the new forum I want to start; expect more frequent updates starting in July.

TOP NEWS & ARTICLES

Shopify is going to run fulfillment centres for its US customers within the next 2 years. “Right now Shopify will offer early access for merchants who ship between 10 and 10,000 items per day, and by the end of the year the company aims to offer two-day shipping to 99 per cent of the United States.” They announced other plans at the same time, including better shop tools.

If you have your own website, conversion rate optimization is something you should be looking at. Why? Because “[a] simple tweak on a landing page can double or even 10x that page’s conversion rate” which can be much easier to do than doubling your traffic. [Note that this is not a short article; it’s a full guide.]

Matching searcher intent is a crucial part of great rankings. This long article tells you pretty much everything you need to know on making that happen with your content, with real examples for their site.

Mary Meeker released her annual internet trends report; shorter summary here. “If you're looking to connect with the next generation, you should be maintaining at least some awareness of gaming culture, which is where attention is increasingly shifting.” “Some 51 percent of the world — 3.8 billion people — were internet users last year, up from 49 percent (3.6 billion) in 2017...E-commerce is now 15 percent of retail sales. Its growth has slowed — up 12.4 percent in Q1 compared with a year earlier — but still towers over growth in regular retail, which was just 2 percent in Q1...Customer acquisition costs — the marketing spending necessary to attract each new customer — is going up.

ETSY NEWS

Etsy retired several of its Support/Help email addresses, including [email protected], all without any official announcement.

You can now link photos to variations - but only with one variation, not both.

Etsy’s annual report for 2018 is out; I didn’t see much new here, but if you catch something, please leave a comment or send me an email so I can add it to this summary. [They actually mentioned “abilities” in their list of things they accept diverse ranges of, but as usual, they only give any details about gender, race/ethnicity and sexual orientation. Disability is invisible for them.]

A new bunch of US states will have state taxes charged for online sales as of July 1.

Ryan Scott will be Etsy’s new Chief Marketing Officer as of June 24.

SEO: GOOGLE & OTHER SEARCH ENGINES

Google broke with tradition & decided to warn SEOs about the core search algorithm update that started rolling out on Monday June 3 and ended on the 8th. There are multiple reports of some UK news companies taking a hard hit while others picked up visibility. It’s still too early for much comprehensive analysis, but here is a summary and another more recent one.

At the same time, Google also rolled out an update that increases site diversity in search results, often limiting each website to 2 entries in Google’s top pages. Think of it as Google's approach to “clumping”. They insist it is separate from the core algorithm update. Early analysis finds that it didn't change much for most searches.

Websites sometimes rely too much on Google traffic, which is dangerous whenever they change something (i.e., daily). Here are 5 ways to make your site/pages more resistant to algorithm updates.

Most decent SEO tools cost some money to get the full value, but here is a list of 55 free tools including keyword research, stats, linking, and technical tools. (Some have paid versions as well, but just ignore what you don’t need.)

SEO sometimes requires stating the obvious; check out this tweet with a graphic from an SEO conference.

Rand Fishkin did a major review of clicks from Google search, & found that nearly 50% of US google searches result in a click (often questions such as weather, or spelling). Only 45% led to clicks on non-paid links, & non-Google companies. But “for every click on a paid result in Google, there are 11.6 clicks to organic results. SEO is far from dead.” Search Engine Land did a TL;DR (too long; didn’t read) summary here.

Fishkin also has some good insights on making a profit through SEO. [video and full transcript] I think the point about having a strong profit margin is really important - it is going to get more expensive to sell online as time goes on. Etsy is not the only provider trying to squeeze more pennies out of its customers. (Fishkin’s whole push lately is that you must be a known brand to survive; I am reserving judgement on that for the moment.)

Most blogs haven’t done their SEO correctly, but you can fix that. [video & full transcript]

Hate it when your site/business gets mentioned online, but they don’t link to you? There are ways to get other companies to link to you.

The latest Google mobile search redesign has folks pitching fits about how ads now look like organic search results. For your own website & other sites where it is possible, make sure you have a favicon that stands out from paid ads. [If you Google “CindyLouWho2″ on mobile, my blue fossil coral avi shows for my website & this Tumblr blog.]

Voice search isn’t taking off like people thought it would, although around 30% of Americans use virtual assistants regularly.

Is audio SEO going to be a thing? Dr. Pete looks at Google’s decision to post podcasts in search results.

CONTENT MARKETING & SOCIAL MEDIA (includes blogging & emails)

Facebook announced its move into cryptocurrency with Libra, which will launch in 2020.

Contrary to some reports, it seems that fewer people are using Facebook regularly. While time spent on FB drops, Instagram in particular is seeing more interaction.

Getting the right image sizes and dimensions is really important for each platform; here is an infographic on all image sizes for Facebook.

“[T]he right time for you to post on Facebook will be different than the right time for someone else to post on Facebook.” A summary of multiple studies on the topic, with tips on using your Facebook Analytics to narrow this down for your business.

After banning mass messaging earlier this year, WhatsApp is prohibiting sending newsletters through the app as of December.

A decent guide on using Twitter for your business. “...tweets with images get 150% more retweets”.

Thinking of running a Twitter chat? Here’s a complete guide, including Hootsuite templates.

You can get new content ideas from Reddit. “Reddit.com saw 542 million visitors in March 2019 alone.”

Pinterest is expanding its shopping program, now called Pinterest Partners, to provide more shopping opportunities on the site.

A study of the 500 top-followed Pinterest accounts shows that home decor is most popular among influencer topics. [infographic with text.]

Short video platform TikTok is still showing rapid growth. “Digital wellbeing is more important than it has ever been. Since tech companies started optimising for user engagement, the user is unable to escape the app. You will always feel dissatisfied when you close the app, because the notifications keep on coming and the content never seems to end. To us it seems, TikTok has taken this idea to another level and built the user experience to deliberately create addiction.“

ONLINE ADVERTISING (SEARCH ENGINES, SOCIAL MEDIA, & OTHERS)

Using Google Ads for your website? Make sure you avoid these 7 common mistakes.

Google now allows you to target people who are “regularly in your target locations” - but it doesn’t really define how they calculate that.

Instagram Shopping is most popular with younger people (at least in the UK).

Good tips on improving your Amazon ad effectiveness, especially cost-effectiveness.

Some tips on Microsoft Audience ads, and how to get the most out of them. It includes some good general tips, like looking at your profit margin.

Facebook produced an infographic on how to best create FB ads, especially, for mobile.

STATS, DATA, OTHER TRACKING

Google has purchased analytics company Looker; Etsy uses the platform already.

The Google Search Console is now giving users 90 days of data for some reports.

Here’s a new WordPress plugin that tracks clicks on pdfs on your site through Google Analytics.

ECOMMERCE NEWS, IDEAS, TRENDS

Paypal has developed “a customizable e-commerce platform”.

Amazon has extended 1-day Prime delivery. Their ability to do that largely depends on how they are taking control of the shipping methods used, moving away from using other big companies.

Amazon closed Spark, its social media competitor, and it redirects to a page of customer-curated collections.

Some Goodwill stores are now selling thrift items on online platform OfferUp.

Opinion article: is feature-driven retail preventing people from buying?

BUSINESS & CONSUMER STUDIES, STATS & REPORTS; SOCIOLOGY & PSYCHOLOGY, CUSTOMER SERVICE

Human brains like stories, which is why you should use them in your marketing. “Stories do another thing: They trigger the release of this neurochemical called oxytocin, which is known in some circles as the love drug. About 10 years ago, all we really knew about oxytocin is that it’s released when, say, a mother is with her baby. But what we’ve discovered since then, through the work of neuroscientists like Dr. Paul Zak, is that stories trigger the release of oxytocin in much the same way.”

Sell luxury goods? The market is changing as younger people make up a larger chunk of the core. Millennials will make up 50% of the market by 2025. The article has some interesting stats on the luxury resale market: “Overall 45% of true-luxury consumers participated in the second-hand luxury market, and more than one-fourth (26%) have bought pre-owned goods” which is a trend some luxury vintage sellers might want to watch.

Generation Z prefers personalized content & isn’t as worried about privacy as older generations.

US adults now spend more time on mobile devices than they do watching tv. Much of that time is spent on mobile apps instead of browsers, & audio (podcasts & music streaming, mostly) accounts for a large chunk of time spent.

US retail sales grew by half a percent in May, less than predicted.

MISCELLANEOUS

As the US looks at starting an antitrust case against Google, articles are reminding the government what other countries found, and what they should be looking at now. Businesses big & small have filed complaints.

The Google Cloud outage on June 2 that took down YouTube, Snapchat and Shopify among other sites points to the need for everyone to have a backup system. [Remember, Etsy is also moving all functions to Google’s cloud.]

Sick of writing product descriptions? Imagine if it was your full-time job, and you didn’t have any hand in making or curating the products.

#seo #search engine optimization #search engine marketing #etsynews #analytics #stats #Social media #contentmarketing #ecommerce #smallbiz #cindylouwho2newsupdates

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shadowreine · 5 years

Text

The Art of Falling in Love - Chapter 4

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Pairing: V x MC (reader/custom MC)

Chapter Summary: In which MC has a chat with some of the boys.

Note: Finally an update! October was kind of a busy/stressful month, so I apologize for the wait. Thanks so much to everyone who’s been reading/liking/commenting on this fic so far. It means a lot to me. <3

Chapter 4: Candid

Once you returned to your apartment after dinner, you were ready to finally collapse into your bed and sleep, especially after such a long, eventful day. However, sleep eluded you. You lay wide awake, tossing and turning, your mind running at a million miles a second. You thought about the party, what went well and what didn’t, and what suggestions for improvements you could posit to RFA. You thought about the GCA and made a mental checklist of all the paperwork you had to submit in order to obtain a visa for working abroad…which brought to mind the fact that even before you could start that step in the process, you needed to stop procrastinating on working on your lesson plans for the upcoming semester—which was two weeks away, no less—and you needed to do a good job. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be needing a work visa at all. You let out a groan in the darkness of your bedroom, knowing that these anxious thoughts would never let you rest.

Ever since Hana had suggested your class could focus on art this semester, you couldn’t shake the idea. It was a good idea, and you were very low on ideas at the moment. The only problem was that you never really considered art as one of your strong suits, so you didn’t think you could excel at teaching it… But Hana was right, children love doing art. Maybe she was also right about asking Jihyun for a little help…

“Jihyun, Jihyun…” you said out loud, testing out the name. “Jihyun…”

V was a punchy name, short and straightforward. It was a good moniker for a hip photographer. But Jihyun was soft, almost a whisper, a pleasant sound sliding off the tip of your tongue. Now that you thought about it, it suited him better than V ever did.

Part of you regretted declining his offer to have dinner with him because you didn’t know when you’d have the chance to see him in person again. You imagined he’d be busy trying to get resettled into the city. He’d likely want to find a new place to stay. Maybe he wanted to meet up with others he might’ve lost contact with. He’d probably be caught up doing his own thing for a while, and you’d rejected your only chance to catch up with him.

Though, you couldn’t have just canceled on Hana. You had responsibilities, you had your own life. You had to make compromises. Wasn’t that adulthood? You couldn’t just drop everything because someone from your past decided to turn up again.

But… you just really wanted to see him.

You let out a sigh and turned onto your side, frustrated that your thoughts were keeping you awake. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and checked the time. It was half past midnight.

Might as well check the messenger, you thought. Throughout the evening you’d received RFA app notifications, but you hadn’t been able to check any before now. Opening the app, you logged in and read the past chat logs. Only Zen and Yoosung had been there. Zen had entered the chatroom sometime after he finished his show, and Yoosung was taking a break from LOLOL. Zen told Yoosung about how Jaehee had waited for him outside the backstage door with her girlfriend Soomi (along with a dozen other rabid fangirls clamoring for his attention), and he sent a selfie of the three of them. Zen was the focus of the picture, of course, while Jaehee and Soomi stood together behind him, leaning so that they were in frame. This was the first time you saw what Soomi looked like. She was cute and petite, her blonde hair cropped short in a stylish bob. Jaehee and Soomi had matching poses, both winking at the camera and holding up their hands in a peace sign. They looked like they were having a great time, and you couldn’t feel happier for them.

Zen and Yoosung then spent the rest of the chat lamenting how much they wished they had girlfriends too and feeling sorry for themselves. Your eyes glazed over as you scrolled to the bottom of the chat. By now you knew very well how much the RFA boys, except perhaps Jumin, regretted the lack of romance in their lives. Sometimes it was cute that they had so much love in their hearts that they wanted to share it with someone, but more often than not, it got repetitive and eye-roll inducing, so much that you wished they could just find someone already so they could stop moaning about it.

Once you reached the bottom of the chat, you logged out to the main user interface to check everyone’s status updates. As you looked at the row of user icons, you started to feel like something was missing. The icons felt too big, as if there could be room to fit one more comfortably among them.

Then you realized why: Jihyun’s icon was missing. It had been missing for a long time, actually, but now that he was back in the country, it felt wrong not to have him in the messenger.

After Jihyun left to go overseas, Jumin asked Seven to revoke his access for security purposes. He wouldn’t have had time to log into the messenger on his travels anyway, so there’d been no point in keeping his profile active. Even though you were about to travel abroad yourself, you couldn’t see yourself staying away from the messenger for too long. RFA had become like family to you, and you’d want to keep in touch no matter how far away you went.

You wondered if Jihyun still had the same phone he used two years ago, or if he’d deactivated his service altogether. Come to think of it, since he wasn’t on the messenger, you realized you had no way of contacting him.

A window popped up on your phone screen indicating that a new chatroom had been opened. You looked at the time–it was almost one o’clock in the morning. Who could be online at this hour?

You entered the chatroom. Seven greeted you.

707: Hello, pretty lady!

MC: Seven, you’re still awake.

707: Yup. So are you, I see.

MC: Can’t sleep.

707: Me neither. Still reeling from the high of the party?

MC: lol sort of. I got a lot on my mind right now. How was your evening?

707: Fine fine. It was pretty good actually!

He sent the emoji of him excitedly shouting “yahoo!”

MC: Good day at work?

707: Yup! I was super productive. Got everything done in record time… I see Zen and Yoosung are complaining about being single again. SMH. They’re just jealous that Jaehee has more game than them.

You laughed out loud. Sick burn, Seven.

MC: You’re not wrong, lol. Jaehee can be very sweet and charming when she has the chance to relax every once in a while. I’m happy that she and Soomi found each other.

707: They wouldn’t have met each other if you didn’t push Jumin to give Jaehee a vacation.

MC: Yeah… That’s true…

As if summoned, Jumin Han entered the chatroom.

707: WHOA that’s creepy, dude.

Jumin Han: What are you talking about? Good evening, MC.

MC: haha hey Jumin...that is a little creepy.

Jumin Han: ?

707: We were just talking about you.

Jumin Han: I see. I just read the log.

MC: I think you’ve read enough books on witchcraft that you’re starting to become a witch yourself, Jumin. Speak of the devil, and all that.

707: Hehe where’s your broom, witch boy?

You didn’t ask Jumin what he was doing up so late because he was always awake at this hour, either spending time with Elizabeth the 3rd or doing business with investors and companies in different timezones. On the rare occasion that you had a bout of insomnia, he would be in the chatroom, keeping you company until you finally fell asleep.

Jumin Han: Will Yoosung and Zen ever get tired of complaining about not having significant others?

MC: Probably not. Though, I feel like once they do get girlfriends, that’s all they’ll talk about on here.

Jumin Han: You’re probably right. I don’t know which is worse.

707: Jaehee is pretty modest about her relationship. They should act like her! Speaking of Jaehee, as I was saying before Jumin interrupted us with his creepy black magic, I think Jaehee has you to thank for meeting Soomi, MC.

MC: Oh, that’s more credit than I deserve. I just yelled at Jumin.

707: lmao you did yell at him

Well, you had typed in all caps in the chatroom, which was just as good as yelling. A few months ago, Jumin had swamped Jaehee with so much work that Jaehee broke down crying on the phone with you. You felt so awful and helpless at first, but after you did your best to console her and hung up, you decided that the only way to fix the problem was to go straight to the source.

Jumin was unreceptive to your suggestion at first, which you’d expected, but once you laid out all the reasons why it was a good idea to give her a break and why she deserved one, his cold, distant attitude started to irritate you. You tried to be civil, but the man was as stubborn as a mule sometimes. So you snapped and capslocked on him. Then once you said your piece, without warning, you logged out of the chatroom and called his phone to tell him off some more.

Jumin Han: I’ll admit I’ve never been yelled at like that before.

MC: I didn’t *yell*.

Jumin Han: You gave me a very stern lecture.

MC: Well, Zen yells at you on here all the time.

Jumin Han: I correct my previous statement—I’ve never been yelled at like that by someone whom I respect.

You knew that was high praise coming from someone like Jumin Han. Sometimes you couldn’t help but have the utmost respect for him too. After the incident, you learned that Jumin had been so stressed due to his father’s current romantic engagements and the prolonged absence of his best friend, and he had taken it out on his assistant. You felt bad for yelling at him, and you apologized to him personally on the phone the next day.

After that, he decided to give Jaehee three weeks of vacation. Jaehee was resistant at first, but you convinced her to take the offer. She spent those weeks off the messenger and met Soomi at one of her favorite coffee shops downtown. They hit it off rather easily, and the rest was history.

Jumin Han: Anyway, I am glad that Jaehee has found someone she cares about deeply. It seems to have made her more motivated in her work.

707: …

MC: sigh

Jumin Han: What? It’s true.

707: Only you would make something that’s supposed to be romantic into something totally not;;

Jumin Han: I don’t understand romantic relationships myself, so I see no point in commenting on it.

MC: I guess I can understand where you’re coming from. I’ve had enough of talking about romance for one evening.

707: Oh?

Seven sent his heart eyes emoji.

707: Who else are you talking about romance with, MC?

He sent the same emoji again.

“Oh crap,” you said to your screen. Suddenly the whole awkward conversation you had with Hana came back to you. You couldn’t very well tell Seven or Jumin that you and Hana had talked about Jihyun. You had to play it cool.

MC: Oh… I just had dinner with Hana tonight. She told me all about her new boyfriend.

Seven sent his gasping emoji.

707: The hot new actor Hojin Park! He and Hana were spotted smooching down in the Maldives last week!

Again with his heart eyes emoji.

MC: …Are you stalking my best friend, Seven?

707: It’s not stalking when paparazzi pictures of them are posted on every celeb gossip site!

MC: I am not going to talk gossip about my own friend. If I did, you’d probably try leaking it to the media for a quick buck.

707: They pay a lot of money for ~insider info~ you know.

You sent an emoji that depicted you giving a very unamused side-eye.

707: Fine, fine. I won’t ask about Hana’s love life. You need to lighten up, MC. Maybe you need a l-o-v-e interest of your own, eh?

The heart eyes. Again. You dropped your head into your hand. Why was everyone so hung up on romance this evening? You needed a change of subject, quick.

Thankfully, Jumin seemed to have the same idea.

Jumin Han: I think this conversation has derailed quite a bit.

MC: Thank you! Can we talk about something else, pls?

Jumin Han: I actually came onto the messenger to make a request of you, Seven.

707: Hmm, ok. What is it?

Jumin Han: I’d like you to grant Jihyun access to the messenger again.

Your phone almost slipped out of your hand.

Jihyun...on the messenger again? Weren’t you just thinking about that only minutes ago?

MC: Oh?

707: Oh, I didn’t even think of that. Does he want to get back on?

Jumin Han: No, but I imagine he’d like to be, once he gets a new phone, that is. He deactivated his old phone some time ago, and he needs to get another one first. I’ll pass on the information once it’s available.

707: …Do you think it’s a good idea?

Seven’s question took you aback. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea? You asked him what he meant.

707: …never mind. It’s nothing. When he gets a new phone, let me know, and I’ll add him back onto the messenger.

You didn’t know what to say. Where had his sudden hesitance come from? You would have thought Seven would be one of the more enthusiastic about his return. You remember Seven once telling you that he considered Jihyun almost like a father to him despite their relative close age gap. He trusted him more than anyone. In fact, back when you first met the RFA, you noticed there were secrets that Seven and Jihyun had kept between only them. Seven had come to Jihyun’s rescue at Mint Eye, after all.

...That was two years ago, though. The more you thought about it now, the more you realized that since then, Seven hadn’t spoken much about Jihyun at all. He certainly never brought him up in the chats of his own volition, and whenever someone else would mention him, he didn’t have much to say.

But he seemed happy to see Jihyun at the party earlier, didn’t he? Well, now that you thought about it, perhaps he wasn’t so much happy as he was shocked and…confused. Almost as if he had truly believed he never would see his old mentor ever again.

“We have a lot to catch up on, I think,” Jihyun had said. And Seven had agreed.

There was something tense about the exchange, some underlying thoughts and feelings that you couldn’t begin to decipher. That must have been what bothered Seven now. What was the missing link between them?

MC: You ok, Seven? You sound weird.

707: I’m fine. Gotta go, though. Long day.

He signed out of the chatroom before you could type another message.

Jumin Han: …

MC: Is it just me, or did something sound off about him? Does Seven not want Jihyun back on here?

Jumin Han: He seemed hesitant about it at the very least.

MC: Why? You don’t think it’s because he doesn’t trust Jihyun, do you? I know he had trouble with keeping secrets from everyone, even to Seven, but he just doesn’t seem like that kind of person anymore…

You weren’t sure if that were entirely true, but everything you knew about what he’d gone through seemed to indicate that Jihyun had had enough secrecy for one lifetime. The man you saw at the party didn’t look like someone who would harbor any secrets.

Jumin Han: I agree. I’ve been with him all evening, and he is definitely changed.

MC: …wait. You’ve been hanging out with Jihyun?

Jumin Han: Yes, he’s with me right now.

“What?” you said aloud. Jumin had been chatting with you all this time and Jihyun was with him?

MC: Really? Where are you?

Jumin Han: At my penthouse. I invited him over as a guest, since he currently has nowhere to stay.

You were typing to ask what he was doing, but your fingers froze over the screen when a picture popped up in the chat.

This time, your phone actually did fall out of your hands...and landed right onto your face, since you were lying in bed. You let out a pained shriek and massaged your nose. Then you jolted up into a sitting position and looked back at your phone.

Jihyun was in the photo. He was standing next to the dining table, across from where Jumin seemed to be sitting. He was pouring himself a glass of red wine. You could tell it was a candid picture because Jihyun’s eyes appeared as though he’d looked into the camera just as it was being taken, his brows raised in a half-expression of surprise. It was cute, actually. But that wasn’t what got your attention.

What got your attention was the fact that his hair was wet, sticking to the left side of his face. He had a towel draped over his shoulders, and he wore gray lounge pants and a white tank top...

MC: …

Jumin Han: He just got out of the shower. He’s jet lagged, so that’s why he’s still awake, if you were wondering.

You were actually wondering why his bare arms looked appealingly firm and smooth, and why his tank top clung so tightly to his slender but lean torso…but you weren’t going to type that.

MC: Um, thanks for the pic haha

Jumin Han: I thought I should prove to you he was in fact here.

MC: You didn’t need to do that lol. I believed you.

Jumin Han: He’s asking me who I sent the photo to.

MC: Oh...what did you tell him?

Jumin Han: You.

You blushed. Should you take a selfie of yourself just to make it fair? You couldn’t do that. You probably looked like a mess after tossing and turning in bed for a few hours… Wait, why did you care what you looked like? You’d sent less than flattering pictures of yourself through the messenger before.

Jumin Han: I need to go. Elizabeth the 3rd should be put to bed soon, and I’m going to keep Jihyun company.

MC: Okay. Tell Elizabeth the 3rd hello for me.

You debated whether you should add another line. Oh, why not?

MC: ...and Jihyun, too.

Jumin Han: Will do. Goodnight.

Jumin logged out, and so did you. You lingered in the main UI a little while longer, wondering what Jumin and Jihyun were up to right now, what they were talking about. Jumin must have liked having the chance to catch up with his best friend, especially considering how much you knew he’d missed him and worried after him since he left. You could only hope you got your chance, too.

You went into the messenger’s photo folders. Even though Seven had taken away Jihyun’s access to the app, he kept his photo folder untouched. You opened it and looked at the newest picture of him. Out of curiosity, you told yourself. Once it expanded across your screen, your heart did a flip in your chest, which was a sensation that utterly confused you. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to being friends with so many pretty people. Part of the reason why it was so easy for you to initially believe that the RFA were AIs in a dating simulator was because they were all too good-looking to be real. Even now, you would catch yourself admiring just how beautiful Zen looked in his selfies, how well Jumin wore his business suits, how cute Yoosung and Seven were in an adorably nerdy way. Even Jaehee was exceptionally gorgeous.

Yet somehow none of them made you react the way you reacted to this picture of Jihyun. What was happening?

You reasoned it was because you’d never seen him like this. So candid, so...underdressed. You felt as if you shouldn’t be even be looking at it.

Get a grip, MC.

You exited out of the app, tossed your phone onto your comforter, and collapsed onto your pillow, trying desperately to wipe the image out of your mind so you could finally, finally, get to sleep.

#jihyun kim #v x mc #vxmc #mystic messenger #mystic messenger v #mystic messenger fanfic #mysme #mysme v #i'm participating in nanowrimo with an original fic on top of writing this fic #so rip me i guess #taofil #my fic

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verybadhedgehog · 6 years

Text

A Pleasure To Work With

A (completely non shippy) fic about Kylo Ren and his TIE Silencer test team. Premise: he gets on perfectly fine with the men and women of Sienar-Jaemus Fleet Systems. They like and respect him, and he provides them with excellent technical feedback.

(I hope you like tedious descriptions of what I imagine prototype testing / flight testing / race car testing is like, because that’s what this is, punctuated with some faintly amusing examples of General Hux Being A Dick For Absolutely No Reason)

(can also be found on AO3 here)

Supremacy, Officers’ Wardroom Two, 2235h Friday

“Who are those guys?”

Chief Petty Officer Talget Rees put down her glass of Navy Long. “Which guys?”

“Those. On that table over there. With the unfastened jackets.”

“Oh, them. Yeah, you see the patches under their First Order insignia?”

“Hold on…” Petty Officer Dantrey squinted. “Oh yeah. Is that Sienar-Jaemus Fleet Systems? Light’s not the best in here.”

“Yeah. That’s the development team for the TIE Silencer.”

“No way? The Silencer? Wow. So they work with Kylo Ren?”

Rees grinned. “Yep.”

“Wow. They look rather relaxed, considering. I mean, they must get force-strangled on a fairly regular basis.”

“Yeah, no, funny thing is: apparently not. Apparently he’s totally fine with them.” “Really?”

“Couple of days ago, I was talking to Engineer Suchran — that’s the tall guy there? Brown skin, sort of long face?”

Dantrey nodded.

“And I think her name was Endis — the woman with short hair, leaning over the table?”

“Yeah, I see her.”

“So anyway, they’d had a few drinks and they were chatting about him like it was no big deal.”

“Looks like they’ve had a few drinks now,” Dantrey said, looking at the tech’s table and its detritus of salt snack packets and empty glasses and beer bottles.

“Oh, go on, Talgs, introduce us. I want to hear Kylo Ren stories — and get details on the Silencer.”

Rees thought about it, then looked over to the table of Sienar-Jaemus techs. She made more deliberate eye contact with someone on the table, nodded, smiled, and stood up. “Come on, let’s go and sit with them.” She led and Dantrey followed along. One of the technicians greeted Rees, and they all made more space at their table for the two Navy officers to settle in.

“How you all doing?” Rees asked.

“Great, yeah.”

“Good session today?”

The technicians glanced between each other, and Rees realised she hadn’t introduced the newcomer. “This is Petty Officer Marco Dantrey, by the way. He’s into starfighters.”

“Well, I mean, who isn’t,” Dantrey said.

The team introduced themselves. Suchran. Endis. Judson. Meredith.

“Anyway, yeah, good,” Endis said. “Got a few key things sorted out since last test session.”

Suchran took the lead. “We made great progress, so I gave the team an order, no working late tonight. We’ve all earned some beers and snacks.”

“I bet you earn them, working with him.”

Endis laughed. “He’s really not that bad. Did your friend not tell you?” she said, and Dantrey tried not to make the wrong face. “No, it’s alright.” She took another swig of her beer. “You see him totally differently than what we do.”

Dantrey tried again to avoid making the wrong face at the Sienar-Jaenus woman’s rather loose syntax. He supposed that the First Order valued these people for their expertise, and therefore turned a blind eye to their unrefined speech.

“To you, he’s whatever, the Enforcer, all of that,” Judson said, making a dramatic gesture with one hand to illustrate. “To us, he’s a fighter pilot. And not just any fighter pilot, the best.”

“And he gives great technical feedback,” Endis added. “Pleasure to work with, to be quite honest.”

Another technician, Meredith, cut in. “Like, case in point, today we were — oh no, wait a second —“

“If it’s classified you don’t have to,” Dantrey said. “I wouldn’t want you guys getting in trouble on our account.”

“No, no, you’re alright. If I leave out the fine details, we’ll all be right.”

Suchran gave affirmation. Rees and Dantrey leaned forward.

“So, yeah. We were working on the thrust response, implementing some solutions we’d been working out —“

“Solutions I’d been working out.”

“— Yeah, solutions Endis and her guys in Production had been working out — and it was a good session, really. Kylo was happy, he gave us good feedback, some pointers towards further improvements.”

“And a happy KR means a happy team — so, beers all round,” Suchran said.

“Speaking of which, shall I get a round in?”

There was general agreement, and Judson stood, awkwardly gathered the empty glasses and bottles, and headed for the bar.

Supremacy, Hangar 16, 1400h Monday

Test Technician Meredith fired up the propulsion system. Chief Test Engineer Suchran and Test Engineer Endis checked system readouts together. Suchran asked for an update on initial heat exchange position, and Test Technician Judson delivered.

On time, test pilot Kylo Ren entered the hangar, black cloth flapping behind him. He looked around. “Just us in here?”

“Yep, just our team.”

Kylo unclasped his mask and pulled it off.

“Put it under here if you want,” said Endis, pointing under the consoles. She and Judson made room, and Kylo stowed his helmet.

“So,” he said. “Fired up and ready?”

“All ready. Just a quick look at the schedule,” he said, and offered a datapad for Kylo’s viewing. “We’d like you to run to the first four sets of beacons and back for three laps to get some thruster data, and then we’re going to try with weapons firing on the barrage targets.”

“Okay,” Kylo said. “I’ll stay out unless you need me to come back in.”

“That’s fine — just wait for my word before you start firing on the targets.”

“You think you’ve pinned down the issue with power draw down?”

“Yep. Just need the data and your feedback to be sure.”

Kylo strolled out to the Silencer, climbed on board and lowered the access hatch.

“Ready to depart.”

“Okay, Kylo, keep it on mode zero till you’re clear of the line.”

“I know.”

“And engine mode two after the line,”

“Copy.”

The Silencer lifted from the hangar floor and slipped out of the atmosphere containment field into the space immediately surrounding the Supremacy, at a modest pace with its thrust arrays only dimly glowing. A set of beeps on the test comm channel indicated that the TIE had passed the boundary delineating the test space, into which other craft were forbidden from passing during the test session (a source of consternation to some of the officers of the Supremacy, who needed to adjust docking routes for supply vessels and transporter craft).

“Engine mode two for the first lap, Kylo,” said Endis.

The rear of the TIE Silencer lit up in red and accelerated to a startling pace, rushing past a set of hover beacons.

Suchran, Endis and Meredith stood around a console, peering at the curves of a graph that drew itself with the TIE’s continuing flight.

“That’s looking better,” Endis said. “Let’s see how tight he takes the second beacons.”

“Definitely better under cornering. Still a gap there though.”

Suchran pressed a button on his comm device. “How’s it feeling in there?”

“Better than before. Could still be better coming out of a tight manoeuvre.”

“Okay, Kylo, copy that.”

“It’s maybe a tenth or less, but I need to have it immediately.”

“Yeah, copy that. Telemetry shows the same. Mode three for your second lap, Kylo. And you can throw it around this time.”

“Can do.”

On the third lap, Kylo called through on the comm channel. “Steering feels slightly loose in places.”

“Okay, Kylo, copy.”

Endis looked at the telemetry screen. “Worse response after acceleration/deceleration,” she said. “And where the throttle is already micro-lagging. Looks like part of the same problem.”

“Gets worse when he’s chucking it about. So could be mechanical,” Suchran said.

“Something physically loose in there?”

“Could be. Let’s bring him in.” He pushed the talk to cockpit button. “Kylo? If you could come back to hangar now, back to hangar.”

Kylo turned the ship around, reduced power, and coasted in to the hangar. He lowered the landing gear and the ship settled.

“Systems to minimum, please, Kylo.”

“Yeah, okay.” He climbed out of the hatch and leapt down to the ground.

“What’s the story?”

“We want to check connections to the thruster array. Something might be mechanically loose in there. Could take a while.”

“Physically cutting connection to the thrusters?” Kylo looked thoughtful and nodded. “That’s possible.” He walked with Suchran to the rear of the fighter.

“How was it feeling in there?”

“A loose, uncertain feeling in the steering, mostly in the z axis and a little in the x,” Kylo said, holding his hand flat out in front of him and wiggling it to demonstrate.

“After a corner, was that?”

“Yes. In the second part of a complex, especially.”

Two astromech BB units rolled up, and began undoing maintenance hatches on the belly of the fighter.

“Do you need me to… visualise?” Kylo asked, looking intently at the thrust arrays.

“We’ll take a look first, with the droids.”

“Alright. Let me know,” Kylo said, and he turned and walked to a corner of the hangar, where he sat down with his back against a wall.

Technician Judson tipped his head in Kylo’s direction. “What’s he doing? Nap time already? Or meditating?”

“I’d say eighty percent chance meditation. But you can’t discount nap.”

The BB units busied themselves under the fighter, and Suchran went to give them further direction.

A call came in from the bridge, interrupting him. He waved a hand at Endis to tell her to take over in his stead.

“Engineer Suchran? This is Captain Peavey.”

“Good day, sir.”

“Yes, quite. Ah — is this test session finished?”

“No, sir.”

“I see. It’s merely that we don’t see the Silencer in flight, and we would prefer to have anterior sector four space open…”

Suchran could hear another man’s voice fussing in the background.

“Give me the bloody comm — Engineer Suchran? General Hux.”

Suchran rolled his eyes. This was all they needed.

“Are you and Ren going to be flying that TIE or not?”

“The TIE is undergoing some modifications at the moment, sir, and Kylo Ren isready to get back on board.”

“What’s he doing now, if I might ask.”

“Meditating, I believe, sir.”

Hux scoffed audibly. “Well, I’m sure you’re all terribly patient and understanding with his mystical ways, although of course the rest of the starfighter corps seem not to need to indulge in his brand of relaxation.”

Suchran rolled his eyes again.

“How long do you intend to have that sector of space tied up?”

“Until 1700h, sir. As scheduled.”

Hux sighed. “Fine. What modifications are you doing, if I might ask?”

“Correcting a mechanical issue with cable routing, sir.”

“A mechanical issue? At this stage?”

“Issues can arise at various stages of the process, with a prototype, sir,” Suchran said, gritting his teeth.

He could hear Hux muttering to Peavey, off mic. “What are we paying these sums of money for if they’re still having mechanical problems — this is corner cutting at the front end stage, I could have half this done in-house.”

Suchran made a rude gesture at the comm device, grateful that it wasn’t a holotransmission.

“Alright. Well, I’m sure you know what you’re doing,” Hux said, a little sarcastically, and cut off the transmission.

Judson looked up from his work. “Was that the bridge?”

“That was Hux.”

“He does like to, erm, take an interest, doesn’t he?”

“He does. If you can call it that.”

Endis and the BB units emerged from beneath the fighter.

“We found the culprit, I believe. One cable bundle on the starboard side was tugging under its own weight. Two cable ties and some welding, and we should be good as gold.”

“Do we have images?”

“I had BB-9L take before and after images.”

“Good. Something to show to production.”

The BB unit trundled to a console, to upload its images.

It was time to start the flight test again, and Suchran knew the team had little time to waste. “Meredith! You go and get the sleeping prince, cos we’re ready to go, I reckon.”

Meredith sighed. “Oh alright. I’ll stand out of lightsaber’s range,” he laughed.

Kylo opened his eyes at Meredith’s approach, stood, stretched, and walked back with him.

“Issues fixed, Engineer?”

“We believe so,” Suchran said. “Time for a test and if all’s well we’ll go straight into the weapons power draw-down test.”

“Good.”

“One warm up lap and one full power lap and then we’ll start with the heavy lasers.”

Kylo climbed back on board and quickly had the TIE fired up and heading back out of the hangar.

Endis and Judson stood at their monitoring screens.

“How’s the thrust response, Endis?”

“We’ve lost the micro-lag, and laterals are looking good.”

Suchran pushed the talk to cockpit button to check in with Kylo. “How’s it feeling?”

“Better.”

“Under lateral acceleration?”

“Better.”

Suchran turned to his left. “Ready, Judson?”

Judson tapped on his screen. “Power cell readouts running.”

“Okay, good.” Suchran pushed the button again. “Alright, Kylo, we’re ready for the weapons power draw-down test.”

“I’ll come round from ship side.”

“Confirm that. Target one has shields fully up, ready to go.”

Kylo swung the TIE around and set off into the test space again.

“Okay, fire when ready on this lap.”

“Confirm.”

Long bolts of green laser plasma fired from the TIE’s cannons and dispersed on the shields of the target satellite.

“Heavy fire from both sides,” Suchran said.

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m doing it. You don’t have to remind me.” He pummelled the barrage target with several more rounds of fire. “Fuck’s sake.”

Suchran cut the comm.

“Power cells discharging — smooth curve as predicted. Down to fifty five percent now,” Judson said, “and cells starting to recharge now.”

“Need to check if that’s from reactor or solars. Holding steady?”

“Steady at sixty percent approx, and he’s giving it plenty.”

“How’s the rector to ion drive throughput?”

“Steady.”

“Good. He’s gonna have a hole in the shields in a minute. I’ll call him off.”

“Kylo? That’s enough on the lasers.”

His fire ceased.

“You’ve got what we need?” he asked.

“Looking good from here, Kylo. Nothing to note on thrust or handling?”

“No. All responses normal.”

Suchran called the TIE back in.

Supremacy, Hangar 16, 1010h Tuesday

“Same runs as yesterday, but after the second lap, stealth field on. Four laps full stealth, then pop it back off and we’ll reestablish comms.”

“Two laps, then four laps full stealth, got it. Thrusters on mode two?”

“Mode two, but you can try mode three or five on one of your stealth laps. We’ll download data at the end but as far as handling goes I’m more interested in your report.”

Kylo raised the landing gear, and the Silencer departed the hangar to start his run-in laps.

Endis and Judson monitored their screens.

A comm from the bridge came through. Suchran hoped it wasn’t General Hux again. He hoped in vain.

“Are you lot flying that Silencer out there in stealth mode?”

“Yes, sir. We are conducting a test of the cloaking field.”

“I take it you have full permission for that.”

“Of course, sir. We have full authorisation. You signed off on the request —“

“Yes, of course I did. I simply find that —“ Hux lowered his voice. “Listen, do you trust him?”

“He’s a fighter pilot, your — our — best, sir. A fighter pilot engaged in necessary testing.”

“Well. So long as he doesn’t simply wander off, we’ll all be fine.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I see. Good. That’ll be all.”

Hux abruptly cut the comm and Suchran shook his head.

Endis glanced across at him. “Was that Hux again?”

“Yep.”

“What did he want? Or should I not ask?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Suchran said.

They looked at each other and shook their heads. Endis silently mouthed a rude word.

“He is, though,” Suchran said. “Don’t talk like that in front of your new Navy pals, mind you, or they’ll be sending themselves off to reconditioning.”

Meredith was standing close to the hangar exit, staring out into the void.

“I have a visual on the Silencer,” he called.

“You sure? By your eyes?”

“Yeah, just got a glimpse of him rounding one of the beacons. Absolutely nothing on sensors though.”

“Well, that’s good.”

After a few minutes, the Silencer suddenly reappeared on Suchran’s test space monitor, and telemetry graphs began to redraw themselves in front of Endis and Judson. The fighter approached the Supremacy for a good fifteen seconds before Kylo opened comms.

“Coming back in now.”

“Okay, give us your debrief when you’re docked.”

Kylo stood and described how the Silencer had behaved on his test run, hands moving animatedly as he laid out the movements and attitudes of the starfighter in flight.

“That’s meshing with what we expected,” Suchran said. “Give us a write up so we have that to take to Production along with the data download.”

“Of course,” Kylo said. Then he fixed Suchran with a questioning look. “Tell me, did you have any interruptions this time?”

“Yes. Just one.”

“Was it General Hux?”

“It was.”

Kylo grimaced. “He shouldn’t interfere. What did he want?”

“He wanted to know if we were flying in stealth mode.”

“He knows that. And he should go through the proper channels.”

“Technically,” Suchran said, “as I am leading the test team, I am the proper channels.”

“No,” Kylo said. “Fuck that. He’s doing this to get at me, but he can’t call directly to the TIE, yet, so he calls you. It’s pathetic really.”

“We answer questions as and when appropriate. We can’t exactly tell him to go away.”

“You could refer him to me.”

“If you like.”

“Tell him, the next time he tries to interfere, that I’ve given you direct orders to refer all questions to me. You’re under my command as much as his.”

“Yes. Sir.”

“Kriffing fuck. He shouldn’t even be here. He should be supervising progress on his own project.” Kylo looked up in the vague direction of the Supremacy’s bridge, and glowered. “Has he brought his hangers-on? “

“I did speak to Captain Peavey earlier on.”

“Peavey, huh. So who’s commanding the Finalizer? Ship’s cat?”

“No idea.”

“Pathetic, isn’t it?”

The technicians made vague non-committal sounds of amusement.

“I’ll turn up on his project, see how he likes it,” Kylo muttered. “In fact, when we’re done here, I’ll go and speak to him.”

“If I could have your report first though. Sir.”

Kylo ran a hand through his hair and made a face. “Yeah. Of course.” He reached for his datapad.

Supremacy, Bridge, 1315h Tuesday

“Ah, Ren. Good to see you.

Under his mask, Kylo rolled his eyes at Hux’s insincerity. “You seem keen to follow me around, General.”

“Not at all.”

“So, what then brings you to the Supremacy?”

“I divide my time between the Finalizer, work on Starkiller, and the Supremacy, as you know.”

“And how much time would you spend on this ship if you were able to stay away from my fighter testing?”

“That’s none of your business, Ren.”

“No, Hux. It’s none of your business.”

“The equipment of First Order military is none of my business? My forces?”

“The First Order’s forces. You are not the Order.”

Hux stared at him, his face sour and pinched. “It is every bit my business.”

“You have hundreds of other lines of command to attend to before you come to a test program operated by external contractor personnel. Does your chief provisioning officer know you’ve gone over her head? Does Sienar-Jaemus’ liaison manager know you’ve gone over his head? Ignoring your other responsibilities to do so?”

“Don’t question how I lead and how I manage,” Hux said, suddenly blistering.

Ren barked a dry, distorted laugh. “All because you can’t leave me alone to pilot a starfighter for half an hour.”

“I’m taking an interest, Ren. I want to know how testing is going. I’d like to get progress reports.”

“You’ll get reports. Ask your chief provisioning officer.” He leant closer. “Yes, I do know what your organisation chart looks like.”

“Well done you,” sniffed Hux.

“So, don’t hassle my team again. I’ve given them orders to refer all your questions to me.”

“Oh, splendid. If I know they’ll refer to you, I shall make it my business to speak to them much more frequently. Thank you very much indeed, Ren.”

Hux turned and departed. Kylo clenched a fist and gritted his teeth. Hux would come to regret this.

#my writing #kylo ren #TIE silencer #Sienar-Jaemus Fleet Systems #crack-ish #spot the vague allusions to another KR and win my very best wishes

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onbartonspringsfic · 6 years

Text

Chapter 76

I’ve gotten a couple of messages asking when I was going to update this story, and I would sincerely like to thank you guys for that. It rekindled the fire for me and it feels really good to just sit down and write. This is neither long nor good, but I promised to post something. Hopefully this will tide you over for just a little bit. Thanks for remembering me, guys. xx

Here goes. More to come, and I promise it won’t be as long next time.

———

Stepping out into the hall, you close the bedroom door and smile to yourself. You’ve just left a very pitiful looking Dave standing in the shower holding a hot cup of coffee. He’d not slept well the night before, he’d explained grumpily when you flounced down on the bed, rudely waking him up. You feel slightly guilty for disturbing him, but you want him up and nearby. Chris didn’t seem like he was planning on pushing you to talk more this morning, but you need some time to digest your last chat before you decide how to respond.

Treading lightly down the plush carpeted hallway, you consider heading back to the music room and listening to some records while waiting for Dave to get all tarted up, but a faint sliver of light slipping through the slightly ajar home theater door catches your eye. Silently tip-toeing over, you peek inside to find High Fidelity playing on the big screen. Rob is currently explaining to his audience how he is organizing his record collection, a rationale Dave has obviously stolen from John Cusack’s character. Though the light is dim, you can clearly make out Nate’s silhouette in the middle row, his cushy chair slightly reclined. He seems oblivious to your presence, even after you pull the door shut and begin carefully descending the shallow stairs that lead down to all the seats. Starting down his row, you finally catch his eye. He raises a hand in a greeting and immediately swipes up the remote control pad from the console next to him.

“Good morning! Join me?” he asks, grinning through his scruffy red beard. Turning sideways in his seat, he lowers the volume of the movie and looks at you again. “You ever seen this?” he asks, motioning at the screen with the remote.

“More times than I can remember,” you grin back. Nate is quite possibly one of the sweetest guys you’d ever met and you’d always thought he was terribly cute. You often wonder why he was the only one that wasn’t married, or even seeing anyone that you knew of. He’s never said much to you, but then there hadn’t been many opportunities to. “It’s one of my faves. I love the bit at the end where Jack Black performs. He’s incredible.”

“I think that’s my favorite part too,” he laughs. Looking down at the remote, he thoughtfully runs a hand over his beard and looks at you again. “We’ve never really talked much,” he says, matter-of-fact.

“I was just thinking that.” You settle into the chair on the other side of the console, turning to face him just as he had done you. “We’ve not really had the opportunity.”

“Well… you and Dave seem to stay… busy.” He smiles nervously at the screen and then back at you briefly.

“Jesus.” Dropping your chin to your chest and hiding behind your hair, you giggle. “I will NEVER live that down!”

“Just teasing!” he promises. “But seriously… can I ask you a question?”

Looking puzzled, you nod your head before resting your temple on the back of the recliner.

“I know this is none of my business and you can tell me to fuck off if you want to… but… “ he seems nervous and unsure, his eyes darting between the remote in his lap and you. Finally he takes a quick glance back at the door before looking you in the eye. “Do you have the slightest idea how Chris feels about you?”

While your heart speeds up considerably, you manage not to move and keep your calm.

“How do you mean?”

“Again, I know this is none of my business…” He heaves a sigh. “Chris can’t stand the fact that you’re with Dave. It bothers the hell out of him that he left you that night at the hotel and took off with Rose.” He stops to think for a moment, looking a bit distant as he appears to collect his thoughts. You remain quiet until he continues. “I know you two are close, that you have spent and probably will spend a lot of time together. I saw that you went for a walk on the beach this morning. I wasn’t spying on you or anything,” he adds quickly. “I was out for a run and saw you leaving as I was coming back.”

You quickly nod and shrug your shoulders slightly at him, indicating that you understand but want him to finish.

“He and I have known each other a long time. He cares about you a lot. More than I’ve ever seen him care about anyone. Including Cara.” He hesitates another second or two. “I guess what I am asking is… do you know how he feels about you, and does he know that you guys are just friends? I’m worried Chris might think you guys are working on more than a friendship. He talks about you a lot.” He sets the remote back on the console with frustration and then looks at the screen.

“Chris confided in me,” he continues, “and I don’t like breaking his trust. But I don’t want to see any of my friends get hurt. Including you.”

You can’t help but smile at him.

“Nate, you have no idea how good it makes me feel to know you consider me a friend and think enough of me to look out for my feelings. That’s so very sweet,” you add, watching him smile shyly. “I understand why you told me, and I won’t mention it to Chris. He and I have already talked about this, and we’re… working it out.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he begins, grinning again. “I really do hope you don’t think I’m a jerk for mentioning it. Like I said, I know it’s none of my…”

“I appreciate your being a good friend, to both of us,” you gently interrupt. “I think if I were you, I would have done the same thing. And I promise I won’t tell Chris that you mentioned it.”

Looking reassured, he lets loose a sigh of relief.

“Want to watch to the end?” he asks, picking up the remote and settling back into his chair.

Without an answer, you mimic his reclining position as he returns the volume to its previous level.

—–

After watching to the very end, you and Nate decide to make your way to the kitchen to see who is around and what is on for the day. The kitchen seems to be the one place in the house that everyone gravitates to. It is where the coffee lives, after all.

Nate is entertaining you with an animated yet very impressive version of “Let’s Get It On” as he rounds the corner into the sunny room. You are right on his heels, giggling and stumbling in behind him. You both stop abruptly at the sound of Dave’s voice.

“It’s a little early to be that drunk, isn’t it?” he smirks, giving you both a wink. “The fuck you two been up to?”

“We were enjoying a matinee showing of High Fidelity, you explain, still giggling over Nate.

“Ah. That would explain it.”

“What are you so damn happy about?” whispers Pat in your ear as he pinches your side. He’s snuck up behind you and you’re not sure if it’s the pinch or his voice that makes you jump. Spinning around to face him, you punch him playfully in the chest. You immediately see Chris standing behind him, laughing at your reaction.

“Dammit, Pat, you scared the hell out of me!”

“You have to watch out for him. He’s stealthy,” warns Chris. He steps around Pat and wanders over to the table and has a seat across from Dave. You feel slightly sick for a moment.

Dave meets Chris with a nod. “‘Sup, man? How was your walk this morning?” he asks, looking from Chris to you and then back at Chris. “You guys get all caught up?”

“Yeah, I think we covered just about everything,” Chris answers, raising his eyebrows at you. You immediately step over to the pantry and open both doors, carefully looking for nothing in particular just to avoid eye contact with either of them. “I told her about Cara, so…”

“Oh! Okay… I hadn’t mentioned it since you asked me not to.”

“Thanks, but it’s okay. Pen’s my best friend. There’s no reason she shouldn’t know.”

With your back still turned to them, you look sideways at Nate who has busied himself by trying to see how much cream he can add to his already milk-white coffee. Under different circumstances, this would be comical, but you can tell he’s way more nervous than he ought to be. You plan to keep his confidence. And he had done the right thing.

At the same time, you are a bit surprised to hear Chris say that you are his best friend. Especially after your conversation this morning. You decide to let it go.

“So what’s in the cards for today, boys?” you ask, closing the pantry and walking away empty-handed. Nate follows your lead and you both have a seat at the table, you next to Dave and Nate next to Chris. You promptly rest your head on Dave’s shoulder and look up at him.

“Are you less grumpy since you’ve had a shower and caffeine?”

He slips an arm around you and pulls you closer to his side. “I’m sorry if I snapped at you this morning. Thank you for looking after me. It was a long night.”

“Well, you’ve got a lot on your mind, haven’t you?” you ask in an understanding tone. You rub his bicep and give it a squeeze. Dropping his chin, he flashes you a loving grin and kisses you gently on the lips. Your heart skips a beat and, out of the corner of your eye, you swear it looks like Chris uncomfortably squirms on the adjacent bench.

“God damn, you two get a room!” The entire table looks up to see Pat at the kitchen island sipping a martini. A hush falls over the foursome at the table, everyone in awe of how Pat conjured up a martini without anyone noticing. Nate opens his mouth to comment, but quickly closes it again, wrapping both hands around his coffee cup and staring into it vacantly.

“Excuse me, but this is MY kitchen and MY house. We’ll get ass naked and fuck on this table if that’s what we wanna do.” At this, Nate abandons his cup of coffee and nearly sprints out of the kitchen without a word. Pat remains at the island, doubled over in laughter. You and Chris exchange an awkward glance.

“Alrighty, then!” you manage. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be on the beach,” you say over your shoulder as you head to the bedroom to change into your bikini.

#foofighters foofightersfanfiction davegrohl davegrohlfanfic chrisshiflett chrisshiflettfanfic natemendel natemendelfanfic

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