#yeah the last one again is a stretch but *evil laughter* i don't care it still fits ahsgxcajdcvjsh

[cheelduh]

How to strike your way into someone’s heart (Highschool AU)

Part 2 to this. Can be read alone!

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing I mean what do you expect they’re all teenagers. Lots of brick slapping. Childe clowns Scaramouche. OH YES this isn’t edited at all lmfao have fun.

Synopsis: It’s your big date with Childe after you lost the bet miserably. You decide to pay the occult club a visit in hopes of finding something that can...ease your concerns. Childe on the other hand has Signora give him a friendly piece of advice, believe it or not. 

Note: SRY THIS TOOK ME LIKE A MONTH

For as long as you can remember, you've never believed in ghosts, demons, or souls that lose their way in the endless void, forced to roam the earth in repentance.

Believing in the unknown takes creativity, adventure, maybe even a little sense of fear. Scratch that—a shitton of fear, because humans love to weave in their insecurities and inability to explain something into something of a phenomenon.

Bad luck lies in this category. Bad luck is simply a way to justify the catastrophe that one cannot admit they have fabricated themselves. Everyone wants a reason as to why shit hits the fan, and it can be anything but their own fault.

Bad luck is nothing but a load of bull to you. That's totally why you're standing outside the calculus classroom during lunch break, which happens to be the official meet spot for the occult club.

You raise a fist to knock, but then falter, thinking over your options once again. Is this what it has come to? Putting your faith into the weird kids that once tried to summon Schrödinger's cat for the physics final.

Fischl kicks the door wide open, a smirk playing at her lips once she spots you. "One cannot refrain from the song of your cogitation. The feline for which thou dwell on—"

A squeak leaves your throat and you flinch back, cutting her off. "You can read my mind?"

"Fischl," An icy eyed boy shows up from behind her and points a thumb back. "Mona needs your help."

Fischl squints at you for a brief moment, and then spins onto her heel to go back into the room.

The blue haired lower class man, Chongyun you guess, narrows his eyes at you. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Finally you manage to speak, palms all sweaty. "Yeah uh, I need your help. You know, with occulty things." You use your hands to articulate your thoughts, but ultimately give up.

You're not sure if it's pity towards your pathetic explanation or simply annoyance, but Chongyun widens the opening. He silently gestures for you to follow.

Stumbling on your feet and putting on your big girl pants, you hurry inside of the room, hoping you aren't seen by Beidou. She wouldn't let you hear the end of this.

The temperature instantly drops, and you have to adjust your sight to navigate. There's heavy incense in the air as well as a a few lighted candles from the dollar store, you guess.

Sitting smack dab in the middle of all the demonic markings is Mona, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Chongyun has made his way next to her, crossing his arms with a sigh, and Fischl is busy cooing at her bird.

"Well well well..." Mona's amused, eyes almost twinkling as she gets up from the poor desk that had to suffer the wrath of her ass. "If it isn't Y/N."

Mona is a glorified dick wiper in your books. One time, she partnered up with you in chemistry last year and refused to do any work because apparently her "star sign" said she was incompatible with science. You haven't forgiven her since.

"I need your help." You barely manage to choke out the words, reigning yourself in by clenching your fists instead. It'll be unethical to claw her face, especially since you're the one who's come to her.

"Oh?" She smiles wickedly, revelling in every moment of this no doubt. "Why would the high and mighty Y/N need help from the 'Whoroscope whore'?"

Fischl nearly slips out a laugh, trying with her upmost ability to refrain from rolling all over the floor.

You blink away your tears of almost-laughter, casually sliding in twenty mora across the table dividing you two. If she's a whoroscope whore like you say she is, she'll definitely put it in her bra.

Mona raises a brow, but her eyes linger on the bill for a second too much. "What makes you think I'll do it for money?"

"That's simple," You say, rolling your eyes. "When you see mora, you cling to it like a baby clings to a tit. Now just take it and solve my issues."

She fumes a litany of curses but snatches the money up anyways.

"What do you want?"

You breathe in, then out. "I need a talisman."

Mona raises a brow, hand on her hip. "I'm sorry. Did I get that right?"

How dare she. You will your eye into not twitching, the beginnings of fire thrumming through your veins, scalding hot. How dare she make me repeat myself.

"You know, the thing to fend off evil spirits," Your statement hangs heavy in the air as the cogs in their brains click into place. "I need one that can remove the most evilest thing times ten to the power of twenty five on this planet."

Everyone immediately thinks of Hu Tao.

Chongyun is the first to speak from an area of expertise, seemingly shocked at your words. "Are you sure you want a talisman that powerful? How bad is the evil spirit you've come across?"

You glance out the window, through the semi-open blinds. The apprehension curls in your stomach once you spot Childe chasing Aether with safety scissors, and you've never been more sure of than anything in your life.

Gulping, you turn back to the exorcist. "I'm 110% sure."

He doesn't ask any more questions and goes to fetch the talisman.

Mona clears her throat. "So I hear you have a date with Childe today. Quite the character you've taken to."

"Oh please," You hiss through your teeth, your blood pressure going up tenfold, "you're the one that told him our star signs were intertwined and that we're fated lovers."

She shrugs innocently, stance casual unlike your own that is ready to lunge an attack.

"Here you are," Chongyun hands you a talisman, a colourful mix of some charms, some kind of liquid in a bottle, and about a shitton of other things. "You'll need these if you're going to face the most demonic of all evils."

You think of Childe's stupidly handsome smirk, the playful life of his eyes, and how gentle and considerate he is with you. You think about how cruel he is to others, but how loving he can be to you.

"Oh, I will be."

—

Childe is getting his ass handed to him by Scaramouche on the switch. It's just that he can't seem to focus, not with the forthcoming date all over his mind.

He hasn't experienced these kind of jitters in a long time. Has to endure that foolish smile that's about to plaster all over his face.

Scaramouche may be a son of a bitch with an agenda, but he doesn't appreciate his acquaintances safeguarding their personal crap when it starts to leak onto him. Especially when it comes to video games.

"Okay," The short boy sighs, stretching over the staff room sofa to drop his controller on the cushions. "Let's hear it." He can't even properly enjoy his victories when Childe isn't giving it his all.

"Hear what?" Childe lays his head back, relaxing from all the strain of endless gaming during the lunch hour. He seems too relaxed for someone who's broken into the teacher's lounge.

"Why you're so distracted." Scaramouche points out. "Not that I care—hey! I'm serious here!"

Childe's cracking up for absolutely no reason, rudely cutting him off. "I'm sorry—sorry it's just so hard to take you seriously when you're wearing that stupid fucking hat."

"Don't question the drip." The older moves his head to glare at him, but the thin stripe of silk on his hat swooshes with him, and it's enough to have Childe clutching his stomach in pain as he barks out in laughter.

"Grow the fuck up." Scaramouche says, no doubt exasperated from the constant shit he gets.

"Ok—ok I'm sorry."

There's a knock on the door before Scaramouche gets the chance to intimidate him again.

"Fuck shit fuck who is that? Wasn't there a staff meeting?" Childe whisper yells, panic clear in the ocean of his eyes.

Scaramouche shrugs and downs a can of soda with no care in the world.

Childe would be nonchalant too. If it were a normal day, he wouldn't give two shits about getting caught.

However, he's looking forward to that date he has with you today. Detention is going foil all his lecherous plans.

"It's me." The feminine sound of a threat calls out from the other side. "Open the door." The clicks and clacks of her toes tapping the floor indicating her impatience.

The two sigh in relief, Childe getting up to open the door. It's way too early in the afternoon to deal with this crap.

"Surprised to see me?" Signora greets sweetly, and if not for the murderous glint in her eyes, he would smile back.

"Yeah, I didn't say Bloody Mary three times." The ginger replies, keeping a steady eye on the upperclassman in case she pulls a fast one.

The blonde shoves him aside in offence, and prances in like she owns the goddamn place. Scaramouche greets her with the bird.

"There's this rumour going around—I'm sure you've heard..."

"Oh?" Childe pockets his keys, ready for an attack, not even remotely interested in the topic.

"Something about how Y/N gave Mona a visit today" Signora muses, elegantly taking a seat on the arm of the couch, "with your date and all, I just thought you should know."

"Hah!" Scaramouche bursts out in laughter, tears in the corner of his eyes. "I can't believe she went to get a horoscope reading on how shitty your date's gonna be."

"Get castrated." Childe growls, flipping him off on both hands.

"Now now boys," Signora's lips curl, and she clasps both manicured hands together, prepared to break the fight if it ever reaches its peak. "Settle down. You two are comrades."

"As if I'm comrades with this SIMP!" Scaramouche has to wheeze out the words.

The youngest clenches his fists, unclenches, and then lets a smirk grow. "Oh? I'm the simp? What about that time Mona pantsed you in-front of all the freshmen and you fell in love with her."

Scaramouche glares at him, a glare strong enough to have anyone shaking in their shoes. "I'm attracted at her sheer audacity of trying to fuck I, Scaramouche, the 8th harbinger, over. It takes balls."

"Mad respect." Signora leans forward to place her phone on the coffee table, then approaches Childe. "Moving on, the reason I've decided to bestow my precious intel on you is because I have a favour to ask of you."

"What?" He says blankly, confused that she has a request for him out of all people.

"I need you to let me get you ready for this date of yours." She gives him a gaze that is enough to wither away any arguments.

Childe shares a look with Scaramouche as if to say "am I fucking deaf because I sure as shit didn't just hear that."

"You sure as hell did, boys." Signora intercepts the connection of their two brainwaves with a dreaded sigh. "I hate Y/N. This is the only way I can get back at her."

"Hey!" Childe exclaims loudly, waving his hands in the air incessantly. "What makes you think I'll let you shit on my future girlfriend."

"I'll be doing nothing of the sorts." She points out, giving him a sly smile. "I just know she's terrified of what's coming. The better the date is, the more she's gonna hate herself. What more do I need but to sprinkle some inner conflict within her airtight resolve?"

As favorable as the proposal is, Childe  contemplates for a second. Signora...helping him? This could work to his advantage if he plays his cards right.

His inner turmoil takes him into the future, where you two are happily married with eight and a half kids. If you ever managed to find out Signora was the culprit that was finally able to set you two up, you'd never forgive him.

"Nah I'll take a hard pass." He doesn't want to think about divorce and custody battles this early on. He'd rather face the brunt of Signora's wrath.

Scaramouche chooses right then to make a tactical withdrawal out through the window since he doesn't want to be a witness to a murder he hasn't caused.

Surprisingly— "Fine then." Signora shrugs, unbothered when summoning out a minty juul from no where. She's disappointed nonetheless.

Childe tilts his head, perplexed, but decides against mulling over it for too long. Instead, he strides off to the door, wanting to get the last two periods over with so he can run home and freshen up for this date.

"Oh and Childe?" Signora calls out to him, but he barely acknowledges her, only pausing momentarily without looking back. "A piece of friendly advice. A diligent student like Y/N, there's no way she'd be into rash things like fighting. So try and control yourself, hmm?"

He flashes the senior a sheepish smile, the front row tickets to the illegal underground fight-club burning in the back pocket of his pants.

—

Childe conceals near the bushes by the gate, expertly hiding his shaking hands by pretending to look for something in his back. His goal isn't to seem desperate, even though he's raced out here at the speed of light after Havria's dismissal.

It's not like he's trying to eavesdrop or anything. He just wants a little insight on how you're feeling about this, in case the rumors of you visiting the occult club wasn't a farce.

From his peripheral, he spots you and a familiar figure that is Lisa, leisurely walking side by side as you approach the main side walk.

"Ready for your date, Y/N? You've been daydreaming all afternoon." Lisa winks, and dodges the shove you send her way with experience like no other.

"Yes, daydreaming about punching you in the face." Your left eye twitches in annoyance as you fix your hold on your skateboard.

"Well then, I'll be off—ah!"

The gorilla grip you have on her sleeve takes away all the time she has to get on the last bus she's about to miss.

Your utter strength is enough to make Childe's knees weak. How pathetic he thinks.

"Oh no you don't," You say in a sing-song voice, "you got me into this, so you're going to help."

"Help with what?" Lisa fakes a hard pout as she bats her lashes, trying to collect pity points.

"I—" You inhale, loosening your grip on her and averting your eyes nervously to see if anyone's watching. "Don't make me say it."

The older girl motions for you to continue, and you're sure you've suffered more for less at this point.

"I've never...been on a..." The sentence ends in a trailed murmur.

Childe doesn't think he's ever seen you so flustered. He's about to snap a picture for later, but decides against it. They'll be plenty of moments later on to see your cute expressions.

Lisa's grin is both seductive and terrifying, Childe notices. "You've never been on a date?"

"Shut up!" You hiss, dropping your board so you can cover her lips with your palm, eyes darting around your surroundings frantically. "Not so loud."

He has to bite at his fist to hide his amusement.

As if she has a sixth sense, Lisa's eyes somehow find Childe's through the abundance of leaves, and there's a glint in her eyes that nearly makes him shart his pants.

"Of course Y/N," She replies sweetly to you, who is currently unaware of the staring match going on. "I'll teach you everything you need to know...and more."

Childe doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing. Nor does he want to find out.

—

You ponder on what's taking him so long, more on edge than you usually are. Thankfully, Lisa basically pried your hair down from its usual up-do. Said something about how you can hide your lack of shits given as to not offend him.

Except you think you're giving more shits that you expected to. Why else would your heart be pounding so hard?

"What took you so long?" You sense him creeping up on you, ceasing his chance to pounce.

Childe groans playfully and slaps a hand over his face as he comes into view. "How'd you know?"

"You have a douche-styled gait." You reply as you remove your gaze off your phone to approach him.

He's prepared to shoot a witty reply, but it dies halfway through his throat when he procures a good look at you. Your hair frames your face elegantly, eyes shining despite the tiredness that's so clear, all complete with a cooling spring dress that hugs you just right.

Mouth going dry, he forgets how to speak the common tongue, unable to tear his gaze off your form.

You shift in place awkwardly. "Uh are you okay? Looking a little...blank."

"Sorry—sorry just thinking." Childe stumbles over his words like the complete idiot and a half he is, berating himself countlessly on the inside. He regains his confidence once he spots the light dust on your cheeks. "You ready for the best date ever?"

"The best date huh?" It's the first time you smile today, and he swears his heart leaps in his rib cage. You're the prettiest thing he's ever laid his eyes on. "I'm ready. I better not be disappointed."

"I wouldn't dare disappoint, girlie." He feigns mock offence as dramatically as possible. "I'll show you how to have some real fun. Cool keychain by the way, for good luck?"

It's one of the charms Chongyun urged you to carry with you at all times to keep all forms of evil away.

"Yeah...something like that."

The two of you ease into the walk in a relatively comfortable fashion, contributing with lively chatter and a few jabs here and there. It's not awkward at all, not like you thought it would be. Your nerves loosen up, mind diverting from the roots of the stress of high school.

"—And you won't believe what Kaeya did the other day. I'm telling you there's something wrong with him because that SoundCloud rapper wannabe Venti goaded him into birdboxing through the hallways at lunch."

"And the son of a bitch did it?"

"The son of a bitch did it." Childe confirmed, gasping through his laughs as the two of you converse in psychobabble. "And guess who he bumped into?"

You're choking in laughter, tears in your eyes as you hunch over and shake. "He didn't. Childe—no he didn't."

"Straightttt into Diluc. And he had the balls to feel him up because he thought he bumped into a hot bab—"

Childe crashes into a sturdy chest and stumbles backwards towards you, but manages to catch his balance midway. Both of you freeze when faced with a buff guy from another school, bandages on his fist and a crooked smirk on his face.

Fuck. You think. Classic high school cliché.

Realizing he can't risk the remainder of this date when it hasn't even begun, Childe raises a hand in apology, aiming to be the bigger person instead of socking the kid in the face.

"Sorry. I wasn't looking." He offers to the guy, but you can tell he isn't buying any of it. There are about four more kids who group, a setup that isn't going to end in your favour.

"Hey punk. You don't remember me?" The upperclassmen barks out, glaring holes into your date.

You deadpan towards Childe, but he's too is racking his brain to remember. Ends up shrugging with no recollection.

"I have a list of names but they're in my other pants." Shit, what an a-grade reply. Now you know you're done for. "Listen dude, I'm kind of on a date and the vibe is going great. Don't ruin it."

"It's a good thing she's here to watch then!" The guy yells, stomping so that he's right in-front of Childe, ready to pounce. "You humiliated me in front of my gang last week. I'm here to rip you a new one."

Childe blinks, tries to remember, and when he doesn't, he grabs a wad full of cash from the his Fanny pack and throws it at the guy's feet.

Everyone's eyes bulge out of their sockets, including yours at the amount of money placed there casually on the crack of the dirty sidewalk.

"Hopefully this is enough for the damages." Childe offers, aiming to not further escalate the situation albeit how pissed he is right now. If you weren't here...well that would be another, much more violent story.

With a soft tug, Childe brings you close and begins to pass the guy, until he's abruptly stopped by a hand gripping his shoulder tightly.

"I don't think so!" The guys barks, and his lackeys move to surround you two. "You gotta pay taxes too buddy." Oh he's getting way too comfortable now.

A feral smile grows on Childe's face as he looks over his shoulder. "Oh?"

"Yeah shithead." The guy seethes, puffing out his chest to size him up.

Childe itches for a fight. He can no longer keep in the urge and is just about ready to raise a heavy fist, but is beaten by the sound of a loud thwack, and then a painful groan following.

There you are, standing in front of the trembling asshole, spinning your crossbody bag in circles like it's a nunchuck in all it's glory. There's a deadly glint in your eyes, pure, unadulterated vexation in your features.

If Childe could fall for you any harder, it's probably happening now. In that exact moment, his heart beats in his ears uncontrollably, and there's nothing but raw adoration that piles up all at once.

You're an angel of destruction, a force not to be reckoned with, and shit, you're the eye of the fucking storm.

Fire courses through your veins as you pulverize the guy with your bag, swinging with such expertise it has Childe in awe. "He may be an absolute idiot for not remembering—"

"Hey girlie you're killing me here!" Your date snaps out of his astonishment temporarily.

"—but you don't get to call him a shithead, you asshole!" You snarl angrily, gripping the handle of your bag tightly, decking everyone that lunges at you, letting out strings of curses with every hit. Every hit sends a flock of them either stumbling back in pain, or knocked out completely.

Childe doesn't even get a chance to lift a finger by the time you're done violating them with your heavy ass pink bag. Stands there like an absolute loser.

"Apologize." You pant, prepared to send another flurry of attacks at the leader, who is crawling away with a battered face. "Apologize or I'll—I'll fucking Russian neck tie your ass."

"S-sorry!" The guy whimpers out and tries not to piss his pants at the threat.

Childe is still in too much shock at the whole ordeal to reply, short circuiting.

Another thirty seconds pass until he registers the smaller hand waving in front of his face. He catches your cold hand through his haze, brings it closer.

Running a free hand through his locks, he doesn't hide his astonishment. "You're fucking gorgeous, girlie." He whistles lowly, eyeing you with a new kind of regard.

"I-I uh." Your face is all shades of red by now, the adrenaline from kicking ass wearing down. "Let's go."

"How is that bag so heavy?" One of the fallen gasps out in pain, clutching his ribs as he trembles on the floor. "Like a buh-brick."

A part of your zipper in open, and Childe briefly peeks out of morbid curiosity. His jaw slackens. "Is that a...no, it can't be."

"It's a brick." You murmur guiltily, gnawing at your bottom lip. "Just in case." Fingers tentatively play with the straps.

Childe is head over heels by now, all smitten as a foreign warmth bubbles up in his throat, and he's just about sure he'll puke his heart out.

His next words are picked out carefully. "There's an underground fight club going on—"

You lock and aim for his right kidney.

Worth a try, Childe thinks.

"SIKE. Joking—joking. Just a joke." He insists, gloved hands raised by his ears in defence.

Clicking your tongue, you scowl and rush past him.

It hasn't even been an hour and it's been the most exciting date Childe's ever experienced. When he sees your lips twitch, he knows it's the same for you as well.

"Are we going or not?" You mumble, avoiding eye contact, a tinge of red still decorating your cheeks.

Childe crumbles into his hands at your deadly duality. One that comes for his enemies and one that comes straight for his heart.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #childe x reader #childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin oneshot #tartagila #mona genshin impact #Chonghyun #kaeya alberich #master diluc #venti genshin impact #fischl #lisa genshin impact #jean gunnhildr #fanfic

[toomanyfandoms02]

Evidence // Spencer Reid x Reader

HEY guess who's back. I'm SO SO SO sorry for the delay. I've been having the most SERIOUS case of writers block and I'm finally pulling myself out of it YAYYYY. So here ya go.

Not a request, but I couldn't resist this prompt!

Summary - Spencer and Reader get locked in the evidence room.

Prompt - “What on earth happened in here?"

Word count - 2.9k

Spencer and I often stayed after together to finish up work. We didn't like to have to wake up so early to make touch ups. So here we were, sitting on the floor in the back of the evidence room. We were sat behind tall filing cabinets, a dim lamp lit beside us.

We were working a case in Arizona involving 3 girls. It was running relatively smooth, the problem was that the police station that we were placed at was in the middle of nowhere. And that was proven by the signal warning on my phone.

*unable to send message.*

Good thing it wasn't anything important.

There were multiple pages sprawled out in front of us, we looked between them all.

"I don't think we will have to stay too long after today." I commented. "It looks like we are working pretty fast this time around."

"I guess we're getting the hang of this " Spencer laughed, writing something down.

*click*

I craned my neck around the cabinets, wondering if someone was coming in the door. Seeing no one, I turned back to him, shrugging my shoulders.

We continued for another hour (and 28 minutes by Spencer's count). I stacked the papers together, shutting them in a folder and tucking it under my arm. I stood from my previous position, stretching my back.

"That's enough sitting on a concrete floor for me." I complained, hunching over and dragging myself to the door. This earned a laugh from Spencer. I reached for the knob, eager to get to the hotel and sleep.

But the knob only jiggled.

And jiggled.

And didn't budge.

"Uh. I think, I think the door is locked." I whispered, turning to Spencer slowly.

"No way." He stated, lightly pushing me out of the way. I listened as he jiggled it, desperately trying to turn the door knob. His head was placed against the glass, hands framing his eyes while he looked out the small doors window. "The lights are all off out there. I think they are on night patrol."

"Well this is thrilling." I laughed, slumping onto the floor. I pulled my phone from my pocket, holding it in the air and attempting to call Emily. The call started, my excitement being crushed by a warning on my phone.

*Your call cannot go through at the moment, we are unable to find a signal.*

Well fine then.

"Do you know how to pick a lock?" He asked.

"If there was anyone that knows how to pick a lock, I thought it would be you."

"Why?" His posture looked stiff and offended.

"You know everything." I deadpanned offering a dumb look. He rolled his eyes at this and sat down across from me. "Do you think we'll die in here?" I asked nonchalantly. Spencer squinted his eyes at me.

"Well statistically, no." And that's all he said.

"Is that all you got?"

"I'm too tired to ramble." He groaned. His head was leaned back on a cabinet. "But I will say that on average night patrols and at around 3:30 to 4 am. So we have quite a few hours to kill." The clock on the wall read 11:17. Yeah, we had some time to kill.

"Alright, we aren't just gonna sit here. We are gonna play games, I can't stand to sit in silence." Spencer sat up slightly, flashing me a confused look.

"Like what?"

"We are going to start with would you rather. I'll start." My head started sorting through all of the would you rather questions I had been asked that I loved and found the perfect one for this genius.

"Would you rather lose the ability to read or the ability to speak." I watched as he opened his mouth to answer then closed it, thinking again. I thought this would be a pretty obvious answer for him.

"I think I would lose the ability to speak. I could do nearly everything the same. I would just have to write my findings down." He sat in thought for a moment. "Would you rather have unlimited international first class tickets or never have to pay for food at restaurants?" I was thoroughly surprised by the question.

"That's a good one! I definitely want to travel, but I do eat a lot... First class tickets. I want to see ancient ruins, can't walk to them." I laughed. We played this game for around 10 more minutes before getting extremely bored of it.

"Alright enough of this." I groaned, coming up with a new idea. "We are gonna play two truths and a lie. Pretty straight forward, I'll start and you try to guess which one is a lie." Spencer nodded and waited. "I broke my leg while falling from a tree when I was 9, I've had a crush on someone on the team, and I once ate nerds candy for a whole week when I was 7 and had to get my stomache pumped." The last one had his eyebrows furrowing. I remained still and emotionless so he couldn't read me as well.

"I completely believe that you ate candy for a week and had to get medical attention as a result." He pointed out oh so graciously. "And you're a total klutz too, so it wouldn't surprise me if you broke your leg. Plus I think I'd know if you ever liked someone on the team. Final answer you've never had a crush on anyone on the team." He looked so smug in the moment, this just got me more pumped to wipe that smile from his face.

"Nope." As expected, his face immediately fell.

"Who did you like!" Spencer's arms were flailing in exasperation.

"I don't have to tell you that." I chuckled. "Now you go." My foot kicked his lightly, egging him on. He gave a glare and moved on reluctantly.

"I'm afraid of the dark, the only reason I drink coffee is because I had a crush on a girl who liked it, and I drank 11 cups of coffee one day and was up for 39 hours straight."

"You definitely drink coffee because you like it and not because of a girl, lie." There was no question about it, that would be a dumb reason to drink something.

"Actually that is why I drink coffee."

Huh?

"The lie is that I was up for 39 hours straight, I was only up for 35."

"Christ Spence!" I shook my head in disapproval. "Tell me about the girl." I could see his cheeks flush in the slightest. ~~Silently wishing that I could make him feel like that~~

"Her name was Josephine and she lived on my street. She and I would play chess together in the park whenever I wasn't studying, and she would bring a cup of coffee every day. Eventually, in my own way to impress her, I started bringing coffee too. And she liked that, but of course we drifted apart because of how fast my life was moving. It's unfortunate." He was staring down at his hands now. "You and her are very similar. I think that's why we've gotten so... close." That comment got me very curious.

"How were we alike? If you don't mind me asking."

"She was kind and funny, never let anyone down. And she was intelligent. Not only in personality either, you have the same color hair and eyes. I bet you guys would have gotten along really well." I could see him making his thinking face, I assume he was looking into past memories.

"That's so sweet." I kicked his foot with a smile, bringing him back to reality. "So, last round until we are playing the dreaded truth or dare ooooOooOooOooo." Spencer laughed and rolled his eyes. "I use to have a cat named Piglet because of how obsessed with Winnie the Pooh I was, my first boyfriends name was Spencer, and I play guitar."

"There is absolutely no way your first boyfriends name was Spencer, it's the 828th most popular name. That would be nearly impossible or a crazy coincidence." His hand gestured were out of this world at this point, completely flabbergasted that I would even try to tell him such a *lie*.

"Wrong again pretty boy, that's true. His name was Spencer Allen Sallow. The only reason I remember his middle name is because I remember his initials being 'SAS'. Are you ready for truth or dare?"

"I guess." He mocked annoyance and threw his head back.

"Ok, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"If you could make one wish, right this second, what would it be?" He stared at me intently for a moment, as if he was looking for the answer in me. He then lightly shook his head, it was so small, but hard to miss considering we were practically having a staring contest.

"I would wish for the door to be unlocked so I could sleep at the hotel." His head nodded.

"Boring, I choose dare." I was now sitting much closer to him, waiting for whatever that beautiful brain could come up with. Spencer looked to the papers on the floor and then back at me, an evil smirk forming on his lips.

"Do a snow angel in our paperwork." My shoulders slumped.

"What if I rip something!" I wouldn't usually whine like this but *geez* I did not want to redo all this.

"Just be careful then." I looked at him with a pleading look. "Oh so you're *boring*." That's what got me.

"**Fine!**" I slowly lowered myself onto the papers, flattening out and looking up to Spencer, he was hovering over me slightly in a criss-crossed position with that evil smirk. His hands gestured me on.

I laid my arms and legs and and moved them, hearing the paper scrape against the floor and giggling. I had to admit, it was fun. And if having fun with Spencer meant I had to redo a few papers.

Then so be it.

I sat up after Spencer told me I'm done through fits of laughter, holding his stomache and nearly toppled flat on the floor. I looked around happily to see most papers were only crinkled, not ripped. I'll just have to flatten them out tomorrow.

"Okay asshat, truth or dare." He tapped his chin, looking daring for once.

"Dare." Perfect.

"Serenade me." I crossed my arms over my chest as I watched his face fall.

"With just my voice?"

"Oh no no, I have an instrument, the bag I carry with us on cases is like a never ending bag." I reached into the giant bag and pulled out a ukelele case, but not an *ordinary* uke case, a *mini* uke case. "Can you play ukelele?" I pulled it from the case, handing it over to him.

"No, but I may be able to pick it up."

"So you will actually serenade me!?" I got my hands ready to clap.

"Sure, why not." I clapped infinitely fast, watching him pluck at the strings a bit and lean back into the cabinets. Then he started on a beat, one that I recognized.

"Put your head on my shoulder, hold me in your arms, baby. Squeeze me oh so tight. Show me that you love me too." I listened to him through the whole song, knowing full well that as soon as he was strumming that ukelele I was already done for.

"How did I do?" He strummed the last chord and look up at me with a smile.

Oh how I wanted to tell him that he serenaded me to the sun and back.

"That was amazing! You learned that om the spot?"

"Yeah, like piano. It's basically just math and note remembrance." He shrugged, setting it back in my case. "Truth or dare."

"Truth."

"What's the first thing on your bucket list and your biggest secret?"

"You can't ask two questions, that's cheating!" I laughed.

"You technically never specified that so, answer."

This little shit.

"Fine. The first thing on my bucket list has been the same since I was an 8th grader, which is to fall in love. And I know that's cliche but I'm sticking to it." I didn't want to tell him my biggest secret. Truth be told I had a pretty normal life, so my biggest secret was my attraction to him. After telling my mom about it she told me workplace romances were dangerous and wrong, so I tried so hard to get over it. But it's not going away, it's doing anything but that.

"Come on y/n, I'm not going to judge you for your secret."

Yeah uh huh, sure.

"It's embarrassing, and I would prefer not to tell you in a locked room so I can immediately escape after I tell you. So can I just tell you when the door gets unlocked?"

"It can't be that bad."

"It is."

"Please Y/n!"

"I like you!" His mouth shut quickly, tilting his head like a confused puppy. Now that I had given out my biggest secret, I felt a little... powerful. I crossed my arms firmly over my chest, maintaining eye contact, my heart pounding out of my chest. He wanted the truth and he got it, I hope he's happy to be stuck with me in this room for another hour and a half.

"Really?" Was all he could say.

"No. I just said that I could have awkward tension swirling around the room for the next hour, I love doing that." I replied in the most monotone voice I could muster. A very faint smile was appearing on Spencer's face, making me a little nervous. He quirked one eyebrow.

"Are you sure it's not sexual tension?"

What?

My eyebrows raised at the question. Was he... flirting with me? I didn't know he knew how to do that, let alone so *well*. He began speaking again.

"Truth or dare?"

"It's my turn to ask you."

"Truth. Or. Dare." Who knew Mr. Sweatervest could seem so intimidating.

"Dare."

"I dare you to act on your biggest secret." Is this some weird way to make me kiss him, because it's working. If we aren't on the same page, this is about to get Mega embarrassing, but I don't think this could get any weirder. I crawled forward, placing myself on his lap and staring into his eyes. I've never seen him smile so big.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Actually no, this is awful you should really stop." He deadpanned, lightly placing his hands on my hips.

"One, since when do you use sarcasm. And two, I hate you." I giggled, pulling his face to mine. One of his hands fled to my cheek, rubbing his thumb across it. He pressed further into the kiss, all while pulling me impossibly closer.

Is this real?

I pulled one hand away from his face, putting it on the skin of my thigh and pinching myself.

"Ouch shit!"

And apperantly I don't know my own strength.

"Are you okay?" Spencer's face was a wave of concern, scanning over my face quickly to make sure he didn't do something wrong.

"Yeah I was just, pinching myself to make sure this was real." I lifted my hand to his shoulder, resting it there.

"Why? Is this like a lot of your dreams?" He winking obviously at me as I slapped his chest.

"Please stop." I whined, pulling myself off of his lap. "I'm very tired and we still have an hour left, are you up for a cat nap?" I pulled a blanket from my bag. "We can use this as a pillow, it's already pretty hot in here."

"Definitely." I made it into a pillow, giving him enough room. He slung his arm around me, burying his head in the crook of my neck. "Thank you for telling me. And for the record, I wouldn't want to be locked in a room with anyone else." And with many papers scattered messily around us, we fell asleep.

-

I shot up, hearing voices I knew all too well.

"What the hell is happening, since when it pretty boy a playboy."

"Finally! Now y/n can stop silently pining and telling me about it."

"I knew those two had chemistry."

I blinked slowly, trying to release the sleep from my eyes. Spencer's sleepy arm was still wrapped around my waist, unmoving. Once my eyes adjusted I was met with the staring eyes of Derek, Garcia and Emily. Then there was Hotch, just entering the room.

“What on earth happened in here?"

"We got locked in here and played some innocent party games." I explained gesturing to the messy papers. "Spencer dared me to make a snow angel in our files." I smiled sheepishly. Spencer was now stirring awake, sitting up and looking at our teammates. Derek held out his hand for a fist bump and Spencer highfived it weakly.

"Told you you would rope her in." He chuckled. I rolled my eyes at the comment and stood up.

"Let's finish up this case. We've only had 1 hour of sleep and I want this day to be over with already. Save the comments for when I'm asleep on the jet." And with that we were off.

But let's not ignore that Spencer and I's hands were clasped beneath every table we sat at that day, it's not to be ignored.

And I won't be forgetting that day any time soon.

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

[ruffoverthinksthings]

I VERY MUCH ENJOYED YOUR JAY/MAL BIT AND WOULD LOVE TO KNOW MORE! Things like Ben thinking maybe he and Mal weren't an Ever After and how the Jay/Mal relationship develops (for some reason the Natalia Kills line comes to mind: who needs true love, as long as you love me truly. I don't know why.) But yes, more please if you are willing to share!

All of these asks all neatly tie in to more of the events of whatis quickly becoming ahalf-headcanon/half-full-blown-fanfic-in-bit-and-pieces, actually!

As a refresher: Mal and Ben are still officially together, Mal gotwasted at a Big Party with intentionally capitalized letters, Jay tried to do Drunk Patrol, and it ended upwith it looking like they were totally about to get it on in adressing room even though Jay was being a gentleman and refusing totake advantage of Mal, but Mal was emboldened with the strength andcunning of a horny octopus.

(I’m sorry, I’m really proud of that metaphor.)

Auradon blows up in scandal, simultaneously decrying the perceivedinfidelity, lack of morals, and tested loyalties with Mal, Ben, andJay, and tuning in on all the celebrity rags to see all the latestjuicy details, insider stories, and speculation about it. While thethree of them got the situation cleared up, and are cool with eachother because they’re all mature adults like that, the fact remainsthat most of Auradon is convinced that Mal is cheating on Ben withJay, Ben is either tragically oblivious or slowly plotting how toframe Jay in an elaborate revenge ploy, or the three of them arehaving a totally consensual, loving, healthy (but still taboo)polyamorous relationship among other salacious accusations.

(And a large, sudden influx in “real person fanfiction” butthat’s a different topic altogether.)

Neither of them are psychiatrists however, so they deal with itthe only way they know how:

Raising hell and causing mischief.

The two of them rent a car so they won’t get ID’d straight away, buy several boxes of spraypaint, andgo all about the seedier side of Auradon City, the hostess/hostclubs, the authentically shitty dive bars, the districts that thelocal government and their residents mutually agree they shouldforget about trying to renovate and “clean up” every time theannual budget rolls around.

They tag walls and show the new generation of punks (”AVK’sgot nothing on us originals” Mal says as she paints over some OFFENSIVELY mild and not at all rebellious graffiti), they get drunk, they get into places they’renot supposed to just because they can, and they have a blast.

Mal slurs and giggles as she’s walking down a sidewalk with Jay, a LOT drunker than she thought she would be--and a lot deeper inthe crook of his arm than she strictly needs to be to stay upright. “Shit, Jay: I AM SOFUCKING WASTED! Do you know the last time I got THIS messed up?”

“Little less than a week ago, when you were at that... what wasit again?”

Mal scowls. “I dunno. I don’t fucking know what that party wascalled, who we were throwing it for, and why the fuck I decided I’d helphost it--all I care is that I am drunk, I am happy, and I think I amkinda high from all those paint fumes...”

Mal staggers to the side and awkwardly stretches herself out, as if letting aninvisible fae about waist high walk past them without slowing down.Jay keeps her from overbalancing.

“And you know what the best part of this night is?” shecontinues as she returns to their old configuration.

“What?”

“NOBODY FUCKING CARES! I’m drunk, I’m high, and I’m stillterrified of whatever the fuck that thing is that’s beenstaring at us since Merrygold Street, but you know what?” she flipsthe bird at a seemingly random direction. “It doesn’t matter!Because it’s just me and one of my best friends, ever, and there’s no media orwitnesses to see just how much of a hot mess I am right now...”

“And here you were having second thoughts...” Jay chuckles.“Good thing I was there to save you from another boring night!”

“Hell yeah!” Mal says, throwing the Maleficent. (The Horns, to us.)

She slows down, and Jay keeps going for a while until he starts tofeel Mal pulling him back. “Something up, M?” he asks.

“Thanks, Jay,” Mal mutters. “I mean it: thank you. Becauseof you, I’m free. I mean, it’s just for tonight, andtomorrow’s going to fucking suck, there’s no two shitsabout that, but...”

She trails off, and smiles at Jay.And even if she’s got greenpaint all over one side of her face when she got reacquainted withthe right side of the nozzle, her breath reeks like cheap jelloand even cheaper vodka, and her hair’s all frazzled and everywhere,he wants nothing more than to kiss her.

He lets the thought pass, however. Because he knows he reallyshouldn’t, and that for all that’s happened tonight, she’sstill Ben’s.

“Disgusting,” they hear from the side.

The two of them turn their heads and see a little old lady--thekind that refuses to move from her old apartment building that’s asancient as she is, complete with the pillbox hat--looking at themwith a glare that would have been terrifying under very differentcircumstances, but is just funny to them now.

Jay smiles. “Lady, we’re just two friends out having fun,”he says.

“Don’t you lie to me, boy!” the old lady cries, wagging afinger at them. “I can see right through you two--you don’tthink someone like me keeps up with the news? Why, I watch thosefancy ‘live feeds’ like a hawk, I tell you,A HAWK!

“And you! Maleficent Bertha Jr., you should be ashamed ofyourself! Is that any way for a future Queen to act, cavorting abouttown, getting drunk in the arm of a man who isn’t your husband,where anyone can see you?”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Geeze, lady--”

Mal puts a finger to his lips. The two look each other in theeyes, and hatch a plan in an instant.

“Oh no!” Mal says in her most overdramatic voice possible. “Mypristine reputation! My dignity! My pride as a woman, sullied by anight of temptation, vice, and sin!”

“And by the hands of such a handsome, devilish rogue of questionable moralitysuch as myself!” Jay says smugly, twirling an invisible mustache.

What follows next is about the most overblown, melodramatic,clearly faking it unless you’re really, really, really densescene of them making up the most ridiculous, salacious, scandalousimplications they can think of, going through the whole range ofsecret Evil parties in basements, cavorting about with Dionysus’Maenads, both actual fae and the alternative lifestyle community, vague references to body parts and acts with them, allwhile emphasizing the worst, most awful thing about everythingthey’ve “done”:

Jay and Mal aren’t married, and neither is she to Ben!

This poor old woman is just getting redder and redder and frothingat the mouth, waggling her ancient bony finger at them, and Jay andMal are just dying from laughter, they aren’t even trying tohold it back anymore.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit...” Jay is whispering inbetween the actual tears of delight streaming down his face. “Weshould stop--like seriously stop, I think she’s having a heartattack.”

“Gee, ya think?” Mal titters back. “Okay, okay, we really should, but afterone last thing--big finale.”

“Lay it on me.”

“I’m going to kiss you,” Mal says calmly. “But like, just a fake,stage kiss.”

Jay’s laughter stops in an instant.

Mal misinterprets it as his giving her the go ahead.

She kisses him. And through the haze of alcohol, paint fumes, anduncontrollable laughter, she realizes that she’s totally kissinghim in a way that can be interpreted as anything BUT “a fake, stagekiss.”

The old lady sputters angrily, frothing at the mouth, before shesuddenly just keels over. Jay drops Mal in shock, she doesn’t evenfeel her head hitting the sidewalk.

Mostly because she’s too busy processing the fact that A:

They might have actually killed an innocent if severelystuck-up old lady.

And B:

There is totally a crowd that wasn’t there before that’svideotaping the whole thing from every angleon their phones.

Meanwhile, as this is happening...

Ben sighs happily as he settles down into his private study, stilldressed in formal kingly attire from the waist up, and just hisinfamous crown boxers from the waist down. He never really got theappeal of his father going around with no pants if he could help it,until now, when he, too, was king.

He’s about to take the first book from the perennial stack of“To Be Read” books on his desk, when there’s a knocking on thedoor. “Come in!” he calls out.

The door opens, and in walks Lumiere with tray, on it a piping hot potof tea and a freshly poured cup. “Good evening, Master!Compliments of Mrs. Potts,” he says as he walks in and begins toserve it, “a most salacious and frankly ridiculous rumourjust popped up in the internet, and she wished to channel her outrageinto something productive.”

Ben graciously takes the cup into his hands. “Tell her I saidthank you, and please, Lumiere: just call me Ben,” he saysas he takes a sip.

He smiles; he can taste the heat of Mrs. Potts rage, butthe tea leaves make it a soothing sort of warmth that spreads fromhis stomach to the rest of his body.

Lumiere smiles apologetically. “Forgive me, Ben, but won’t youplease let this old servant perform his old tricks? Life is notquite the same, ever since your father and mother permanently movedout.” He pauses. “Especially when you perform much of yourfather’s old habits, this… how do the Americans say it? ‘GoingCommando’?”

Ben chuckles. “That’s going around fully clothed sansunderwear, Lumiere. This is just ‘No Pants Time.’”

“Bah!” Lumiere shakes his head. “I’m getting so old,”he mutters playfully.

“Not that old!” Ben counters.

Lumiere beams, up until he notices the title of book on top of thepile:

“Till It’s Gone: Recognizing the Value Of Your RelationshipsBefore It’s Too Late”

“That is… a rather ominous choice for bedtime reading, Master.”

Ben shrugs. “Never hurts to face the uglier sides of life sometimes,right?”

Lumiere frowns. “Is this about that deluge of scandalous anduntrue accusations that have befallen you, Mademoiselle Mal, andMonsieur Jay?”

Ben nods. “It’s just… I thought I left all of that behind inAuradon Prep, you know? And just... for all of it to come back, along with all of these people talking about when we’re getting married, it’s just...”

Lumiere puts his hand on his shoulder and gives him a loving,paternal squeeze. “Just do what I did, Master: grin, speak with them politely, and waitfor them to get bored and move onto someone else and make ridiculousrumours about them.

“And I should know: I was often an eye witness, ifnot one of the main parties involved!”

Ben laughs. “Dad always did say you had a very… colourfulpast, before you came to work for him.”

Lumiere smirks. “That’s certainly one way to put it. Mypoint still stands, Master: this is all just a natural, inevitablepratfall of being among the aristocracy. Soon enough, this will allblow over, you and Mademoiselle Mal will be back to your normal,loving selves, and all of you—Monsieur Jay included—will belooking back on this incident and laugh.

“Once this media circus packs up for the road, perhaps a vacation to Neverland is in order, with plans of adifferent sort along with it...?” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Ben looks at Lumiere, then back to his stack of books. He smiles,takes “Till It’s Gone,” and places it to the side, cover down.The new top book on the stack:

“How Do You Put A Ring On It?: The Commitment-phobe’sGuide To Going Steady, Proposing, and Staying Happily Married ForeverAfter”

“Thanks, Lumiere,” Ben says. “Could you get Cogsworth onthat?”

Lumiere allows himself a moment on unprofessional behaviour andpumps his fist in the air. “At once, Ben. Shall I also call yourmother and tell her it’s finally time?”

Ben nods, looking at the photo he has on his desk of just him andBelle, recently taken on her birthday earlier that year. “No timelike the present,” he says.

Lumiere pats him on the shoulder once more. “Her ring is goingto look so beautiful on Mal’s hand, Master.”

He lives to regret those words, but to be fair, though, therereally was no way he could have known.

#Descendants #Disney #Headcanon