#I’m not gonna file tag this for anything I think although I guess they only take the first five so

[hmslusitania]

,,

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Meant To Be

Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader

Summary: You are studying to be an FBI profiler with a little over a year left before graduation. When the BAU team shows up in your town for a case you jump at the chance to shadow them for a day. However, things quickly take a turn when you meet Aaron Hotchner, your future boss. And the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met. 

Warnings: None! A little dramatic??? This is a purely self indulgent, love at first sight kind of fic so just prepare yourselves. 

Word Count: 4,063

A/N: So I had a mild stroke trying to figure out the timeline for this series so please just don’t look too much into it lol.

MAY 2006

FORT WORTH, TX

It was just barely six in the morning when you pulled into the parking lot of the precinct. Although the sun hadn’t peaked over the horizon yet, you were surprisingly awake. In preparation for the day you had gone to bed at eight the night before which left you well-rested and alert. There was no way you were going to let yourself be off your game. Not today. Of all your classmates, you had certainly progressed the quickest. Due to your high success rate, your professor had authorized you to shadow the team of FBI profilers that were coming to your city for a case. It was an amazing opportunity for someone with a over a year left before graduation so you immediately accepted. Not allowing yourself to make even the slightest mistake, you planned everything down to the last detail in the days leading up to this. Nothing would be able to faze you. With the confidence of a woman who’d been working in this precinct all her life, you strode into the lobby. The receptionist asked for your ID which you quickly displayed. It was only temporary but even so, there was a certain amount of power you felt when she cleared you to continue into the building. After stopping briefly to ask for directions you made your way back to the Police Chief’s office. When he hears your knock, he looks up from his paperwork with a polite smile.

“Well, good morning. What can I help you with?” Clearing your throat, you prepare your most professional voice as you reply.

“My name is Y/N L/N. We met earlier this week. I’m going to be shadowing the team of profilers who are flying in today.” Recognition crosses his features as he makes his way over to shake your hand.

“Of course. I remember. It’s nice to see you again. You’re very punctual. That’s a good skill to hang on to.” You smile in gratitude. “Well, the profilers aren’t here just yet. If you’d like you can wait in here or we can find an empty desk for you.” 

“Actually, I was hoping I could look over the case files. I’d like to be as up-to-date as possible before they arrive.” As he nods, the two of you make your way into the hallway. Towards the back corner of the common workspace is an empty desk that he allows you to sit at. While you put your things down and take a seat he disappears long enough to retrieve a file folder and set it on the desk in front of you. 

“This should be enough information for you to be able to help out. If you’ve got any questions in the meantime, you know where I’m at.” With another polite smile, he leaves you to continue his paperwork. It doesn’t take long for you to read the case file. There had been a conspicuous string of murders in the area, which began about two weeks ago. Four couples were murdered in their homes, all wealthy without children. A list of witnesses and family members had been compiled to make the interview process a little easier. You predicted you’d most likely be helping one of the profilers in questioning the people on this list so you tried your best to memorize the names. 

It seemed like hardly any time had passed when you heard the main doors of the precinct opening to reveal a group of five people walking up to the receptionist’s desk. The sight of them immediately perked you up. It was difficult to make out any individual faces at first but you knew these must be the profilers. As they each scanned their IDs and made their way into the main workspace you quickly gathered your things so that you would be ready to move the moment they were. It didn’t take long for the Chief of Police to reappear, welcoming the profilers and showing them where they could set up their equipment. Every member of the team had a distinctly different look and behavior but they all seemed to work in unison. Even though they’d only been there for five minutes they exuded professionalism and efficiency. As you watched them you had to remind yourself to breathe. You had as much right to be there as them. Admittedly they did have a lot more experience than you but that didn’t change the fact that you’re all on the same team now. 

Waiting patiently, you finish putting the case file back together and fold your hands to rest them on the edge of the desk. When the Chief of Police calls you over you gather up your things and make your way around the various desks to stand next to him. 

“This here is Miss L/N. She’s a student at our local university. She’s gonna be tagging along with you guys today for a little real-world practice.” As he introduces you, you take the opportunity to study the faces of the people in front of you. There is only one you recognize for certain. They all have their attention set on you as well which makes you suddenly very aware of yourself. “Anyway, I’ll let you all introduce yourselves.” With a nod, he turns to speak to you. “If you don’t mind stopping by my office at the end of the day, I’ll get you all checked out alright? In the meantime, have fun I guess.” He adds with a laugh before finally leaving you alone with the others. 

The first one to extend his hand to you is the one person you are familiar with. More than familiar, seeing as he is kind of your hero. You had been the one to initiate the arrangement, having sent him an email a few weeks ago. He had seemed more than willing to let you work with them for the day and he was nothing but helpful, just like you knew he would be. Seeing him now was nearly surreal.

“Y/N, I remember.” He begins, shaking your hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jason Gideon, as you know. Glad to have you on board.” 

“It’s absolutely an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve been a follower of your work since I knew what profiling was. I am so grateful for this opportunity. I am more than ready to help in any way I can.” As you speak, a warm smile lights his face. One of friendliness and hope.

“Of course. I think I speak for my team when I say we’re grateful as well. Not many people in our field get a chance to guide the next generation to a life of helping others. Anything we can do to support you as a future member of our team, we’re happy to do.” This response is entirely heartfelt and shocking to you. Of all the ways you’d imagined this interaction starting, this wasn’t what you had in mind and yet it was exactly what you needed. 

“Thank you, sir.” Was all you could manage as you work to maintain your fading air of professionalism. 

“Well, with that I’ll let everyone do their own introductions.” Almost immediately another man stepped out of line and reached for your hand. He was very conventionally handsome and the way he carried himself told you he knew that he was good-looking. The smile he flashed you was contagious as you shook hands with him.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Agent Derek Morgan and I am very excited to get to know you.” The woman next to him has to pull him away, shooting him a look. She seems very severe and yet when she turns to look at you there is a distinct kindness in her eyes.

“Knock it off Morgan. You’re gonna scare her off before she even gets a chance to meet anyone else.” She says over her shoulder, taking your hand. “I’m Elle. If he keeps bugging you, I’ll be more than happy to rough him up for you.” Morgan holds his hands up defensively when he catches Elle’s eye again before giving you a small wink. 

“Nice to meet you both.” It’s hard to contain your laughter but you manage, giving a small smile instead. Another woman is standing beside Gideon who shakes your hand. She is very beautiful and seems to exude confidence and grace. 

“I’m JJ. I’m the Communications Liaison for the BAU. We spoke briefly last week.” You nod in recognition. She had helped you coordinate the time and place to meet up for the day.  

“Of course. Very nice to meet you in person.” 

“Likewise. We’re excited to be working with you.” She gives you a warm smile which you gladly return before looking to the last person in the small group. He looks to be about your age, very sensibly dressed with a nice posture. There is a slight awkwardness in the way that he shakes your hand but he gives you a quick smile and you can see that he has a hidden friendliness in his demeanor. 

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He says shortly to which you politely nod. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” With that, you turn back to Gideon to ask about your assignment for the day. However, you can’t help but feel like something is missing. “I read through the case file this morning so I can be of use wherever I’m needed. Did you have an assignment in mind or will I be moving around throughout the day?” 

“I think it would be beneficial for you to work with SSA Hotchner. He should be here any minute.” That’s what was missing. Hotchner. You had heard his name before but you didn’t know much about him. As you waited for him to arrive, Gideon began delegating tasks to each of the other members. Despite not being given a task yet you listened intently until the front doors of the precinct opened. 

However you had pictured Hotchner, the man that walked through that door was the furthest thing from what you expected. The sight of him striding in from the lobby made your breath catch in your throat. There was an innate power in the way that he moved. So much purpose and intensity. His eyes were dark and they found your face almost immediately. It was enough to make you squirm but you maintained your composure. Gideon turned to greet him before gesturing back towards you. “This is Y/N L/N. She’s a student who is here to shadow the team for the day.” 

With the slightest hesitation, you extended your hand toward him. His eyes didn’t leave yours for a moment as he shook your hand. 

“I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. It’s very nice to meet you.” He spoke with a clear sense of professionalism. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m looking forward to working with you. I have a feeling I’m going to learn a lot from this experience.” 

“I hope so. It was very smart of you to seize this opportunity. It does not come around often. Soak up everything you can today and I’m sure it will bring you a lot of success in the future.” You listen to him intently, nodding with a small smile. 

“Hotch, would you mind if she rides along with you today? We’ve got a list of witnesses we need to speak to and I think it would be good for her to get out in the field rather than being stuck here doing paperwork.” Gideon interjects, looking to both of you as he proposes the idea. Hotchner looks around the precinct briefly for the other team members before giving Gideon his attention again.

“Of course. Do I need to brief her on the case?” 

“Actually, I already familiarized myself with the case file before you all got here this morning.” You interrupt before Gideon can respond, causing both the men to look at you. “Sir.” You add, clearing your throat. They both share a knowing look. 

“Perfect,” Hotchner replied, with a respectful nod. Satisfied with the interaction, Gideon dismissed himself to begin his work leaving the two of you alone. “Give me a few minutes to speak with the Chief of Police and then we can get started. Would you mind waiting out front for me?” You nod eagerly which prompts him to walk back toward the Chief’s office. Once he has disappeared around the corner you make your way to the front of the building, stepping through the main doors. The cool morning air brings with it a sweet wave of relief. You hadn’t realized how hot you were until you had stepped outside. Nerves were already building up in your system when you were being introduced to the rest of the team but meeting Hotchner had tipped you over the edge. There was no denying that he was a very handsome man. The evidence was in the blush that was surely covering your face. Mentally scolding yourself you take a deep breath. You were a professional and you would act as such. No matter how deeply moved you felt when he looked into your eyes like that. 

A few minutes later Hotchner made his way through the front doors causing you to stand at attention. Moving briskly, you followed him into the parking lot and pulled yourself into the passenger seat of the dark SUV he had just unlocked. He remained silent as he began typing an address into the GPS before pulling out of the parking lot. Once you were on the road he looked over at you briefly.

“How much do you know about questioning witnesses?” He began.

“Quite a bit. I’m only about a year away from graduation so I have a fairly advanced understanding of a wide variety of concepts that pertain to profiling.” Watching the GPS, he nods. Feeling a tinge of awkwardness, you allow your eyes to stay focused on your lap.

“Good. Any real-world experience?” 

“Unfortunately no. In my courses, we do simulate certain scenarios fairly often but there isn’t much opportunity for real application.” 

“Well the best advice I can give for today is to stay quiet and watch me. If I need you to speak up, I will tell you as much. Otherwise, don’t say anything. It isn’t that I distrust you. It would just be irresponsible of me to allow someone with zero field experience to question the victim’s friends and family during some of the most difficult times of their lives. Especially without having seen what they’re capable of beforehand. I’m sure you understand.” 

“Oh absolutely. I completely understand. I know that I’m here in more of an observational capacity today. And even if I wasn’t, you’re the boss. No explanation necessary.” Hotchner is quiet for a moment. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with avoiding eye contact, you would have seen the remnants of a smile on his face.

“I should have you talk to the rest of the team. They could learn a thing or two from you.” This causes you to laugh lightly. 

When you finally do decide to look at him the sight steals your breath yet again. He is bathed in the golden light of the rising sun and he seems almost ethereal. You can see a flash of his deep brown eyes which seemed very soft now in the glow of the sun. As though he could feel you looking at him he turns to meet your eyes although this time you don’t look away. The two of you sit there in what seems like the most eternal moment, dancing in and out of each other before he breaks away to look back at the road. For a moment you could almost swear you saw something there in his eyes, something almost like longing. It must have just been a trick of the light. 

“So, what made you decide to be a profiler?” The moment is over as quickly as it began as he speaks up. 

“Well, I’ve always had a deep fascination with the human psyche. Finding out what makes people tick. Picking apart their personalities, their behaviors. Growing up that almost felt like the only way to understand the kids around me. By studying them. Every friendship I had felt like a science project. When I found out that I could use that ability to be part of something bigger than myself, to make the world just a little brighter ... well, it was really a no-brainer.” 

“That’s very ... noble and, honestly, very uplifting to hear. With this job, you experience a lot more bad days than you do good. Sometimes it is hard to remember why we started doing this in the first place. It’s people like you that remind me this job is worth it. Hang on to those beliefs. They’ll help keep you sane, I can promise you that.” With a nod, you give him a kind smile.

“I will. I promise.” It isn’t much longer before you arrive at the first house. The interview is fairly straightforward. You stay close by Hotchner’s side as he introduces the both of you. Once you’re inside you sit quietly as he begins asking questions, merely listening and taking mental notes of the way he conducts himself. It is over fairly quickly and then you’re both back in the SUV and off to your next destination. The next two interviews are the same. On the third, he lets you ask a few routine questions. It is a simple gesture but you are very grateful for the experience and you handle yourself very well. 

Your final interview is with the parents of the latest male victim. When Hotchner knocks on the door, it takes a minute for it to open. Standing on the other side is an older man with a tired expression. 

“Yes? What is it?” The man says briskly. Hotchner pulls out his badge.

“I am SSA Aaron Hotchner with the FBI. This is Miss Y/N L/N. May we come in?” Hearing the term FBI causes the man’s expression to darken rather quickly as he looks between the two of you.

“Where’s your badge?” He questions, nodding in your direction. Remaining silent, you share a look with Hotchner. After a second of thought he gives you a small nod of approval.

“I’m not actually an FBI agent yet, sir. I’m a criminology student at the local university. I’m shadowing Agent Hotchner today as a learning opportunity before getting out in the field myself.” 

“A learning opportunity?” It takes the man almost no time to answer and you can hear a significant shift in his voice. “You’re using my son’s death as a learning opportunity?” 

“You misunderstand--” Hotchner begins in your defense before you quickly cut him off with your own response.

“Sir, I can’t begin to fathom what you’re going through. But I can promise you that my lack of experience is entirely made up for by my desire to see the person who did this to your son pay for it. It doesn’t take training to see that your son deserves justice for his death.” The man is silent but keeps his eyes locked on yours. 

“My wife and I have already told the police everything we know.” 

“We know, sir. It will only take a few moments of your time and anything you can tell us might be crucial in finding your son’s killer.” 

“No. No, we’ve already talked about this more than any parent should ever have to. If it’s that important go ask the police what we said.”

“Please, sir--” Before he can finish, the man smacks the door frame.

“It took the deaths of eight innocent people for you to swoop in and save the day. You really think I want to waste a second of my time speaking with you? I have nothing more to say. Now get out of here.” With that, Hotchner nods before turning to leave which prompts you to quickly follow. As you get near the SUV you are startled by the sound of the man’s door being slammed shut. Once inside you release the breath that had been caught in your chest. When you look over at Hotchner his expression shows a deadly calmness and you are suddenly struck by the idea that he must be pissed at you.

“I’m so sorry. That was all my fault. I upset him. I shouldn’t have said anything to him. I should have just kept my mouth shut like you told me to. I had no right to do that. I’m sorry.” The crushing weight of embarrassment and guilt settled over you. This morning you had felt more than ready but now it seemed like the day had been filled with challenges you couldn’t possibly have prepared for. In only a few hours you had managed to show your boss that you are completely incompetent. You ready yourself for what must surely be his wrath however when he turns towards you his expression shifts from one of unwavering calm to gentle kindness.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry with you. What you said was perfect, it’s exactly what I would have said. You were establishing a rapport with him to gain his trust. You did the right thing. Believe me, it wasn’t you. There is nothing either of us could have said that would have gotten a different result.” When he sees that you are still wary he shifts in his seat to face you more directly. “As a future member of my team, you have my trust. You handled yourself very impressively today. You’re going to make a very fine addition to the BAU.” 

His words ease your anxious mind as you nod quietly. Soon after Hotchner is pulling back out onto the street to take you both back to the police precinct. After a minute of silence he glances over at you.

“So ... are you still sure you want to do this?” The question catches you off-guard but it takes you no time at all to answer.

“More than anything.” This time you do catch the faint smile that crosses his lips which causes you to give a small smile in return.

“Good.” Is all he says for the rest of the ride back to the precinct.

The day is over much more quickly than you had hoped for. When you step back into the police building you make a beeline for the chief’s office, remembering his request that you find him again at the end of the day. You return your temporary ID and he fills out a form for your professor to verify your activity for the day. Once the formalities are over he bids you a good evening and shows you back out to the main workspace. The team all gather briefly to say their goodbyes as well. You thank Gideon profusely for allowing you to join them before shaking hands with the rest of the team members. As you make your way to the exit you see Hotchner standing near the main doors. 

“Thank you so much for letting me tag along today. I really learned a lot.” As you say this you extend your hand which he quickly takes. 

“Absolutely. It was a pleasure working with you and I look forward to seeing you again in a few years. In the meantime, here’s my card.” He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out his business card which he hands to you. “If you ever need anything, feel free to give me a call.” Tucking the card safely into your pocket you thank him with a smile before heading out the main doors to your car. 

Once inside you pull the card out of your pocket and sit for a minute, staring at it. Unable to control yourself you let a giddy smile paint your face. After the day you had, a year has never seemed longer. The anticipation of your future at the BAU looms over you but rather than filling you with nerves it brings you hope and excitement for the things to come. Opening a small compartment on your dash, you tuck the business card away before heading home to get a good night’s sleep filled with wonderful dreams.

Tags: @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gamingaquarius @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut @ohpedromypedro @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711 @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester​

[reidgraygubler]

hot cocoa and cuddles part two (spencer reid/reader)

Title:  hot cocoa & cuddles (part 2) Request: no Couple: Spencer Reid/Gender Neutral!Reader  Category: fluff Content Warning: swearing (if any), mentions of a case/s, mentions of illnesses, tbh idk what else to tag Word Count: 2,348 Summary: the team returns back to maryland/dc after the case in alaska. reader discovers they still can’t warm up, even after everything they do. spencer tries to help out, again A/N: the long awaited part 2 of hot cocoa and cuddles. this is for the people who want to read part two and those who were looking forward to it… o.o thanks for all the love and support! Check out my masterlist! 

part one

{***}{***}{***}

I pulled my sweater cardigan tighter around my body and shivered slightly. I pulled my hands away from my sweater and wrapped them around my hot mug, which was just hot tea. My eyes de-focused on the desktop in front of me. Anything Penelope and Aaron were saying went in one ear and out the other.

“You okay there, Honeybee?” Derek asked, looking over at me. I shivered and looked over at him. All eyes were on me as I tried to make myself not shake from my freezing-ness. “We’ve said your name like 6 times.”

“We’ve been home for 2 weeks and I am still freezing,” I spoke through clenched teeth. I wrapped my hands around my mug, which was slowly getting colder. “I have done literally everything to keep warm, and I’m still freezing.” I shook my head. 

“Maybe you should get a cat,” Emily spoke up. I looked over at her and furrowed my eyebrows. “Sergio keeps me pretty warm at night.” She smiled at me. I laughed lightly and shook my head.

“My apartment doesn’t allow pets,” I mumbled and stared at the table. I shrugged and shook my head. “I guess I just live in this constant state of forever being cold.” I frowned.

“Maybe you should get your blood check. You could have low iron,” Spencer spoke up, tapping his fingers on the tabletop. I looked over at him and shook my head. “Being cold can be a symptom of low iron… You could be anemic... hypothyroidism is always a possibility,” he continued on his ramble/.

“Hey, Spence?" I asked as I looked at him, my hands wrapping tighter around my mug, which at this point was starting to get lukewarm. 

“Yeah." He looked over at me with a smile. 

“I don’t think I need you to tell me of my impending doom because I’m cold. I went to Alaska, not a hospital filled with a bunch of sickly people,” I whispered. Spencer lifted his finger to retort but failed when I shot him a glare. 

“Get a boyfriend.” JJ smiled at me. I looked at her, trying to hide my smile but clearly failing. “Like your own personal space heater in bed. Body heat is a wonderful thing,” she mused as she flipped her file open. I shook my head as I glanced at Spencer. 

“Yeah, I’ll look into getting a boyfriend or my own personal space heater. Although, I’m not entirely sure if my apartment will allow those,” I pouted. JJ laughed and shook her head.

“Hey, Honeybee, I’m always free if you need a personal space heater.” Derek smirked at me. I laughed harder than I should have and looked at him.

“You seriously expect me to sleep in the same bed as you, Derek Morgan?” I cackled and shook my head. Spencer shifted in his seat and kept his eyes down on the file in front of him. 

“You shared a bed with Pretty Boy over there.” Derek nodded to my friend beside me. I tensed up slightly and glared at him.

“Better him than you, to be honest.” I flashed him a teasing smile. 

“Guys, let’s get back on the task at hand. Garcia,” Aaron spoke up as he looked back at Penelope. I stifled my laughter as I looked back at Derek. He grumbled something under his breath as he looked back at his file. 

{***}{***}{***}

I swear my heater was up so high (or as high as my bill would allow), I had my fluffiest and coziest pair of socks on, and at least 3 different sized hoodies on… The Alaska case was several weeks ago, I’ve been home ever since then… So why am I as cold as I am? And why can’t I warm up? Maybe I should take Derek up on his offer. Though, I think that’d be a whole new line I’d cross. Hard pass, thank you very much.

I should be asleep right now. 1:30 in the morning and I was sitting in bed with a hot water bottle pressed to my body. Something is wrong and I don’t know what. Crap, what if Spencer was right? What if I do have low iron or anemia? Or that hydro… Hypothyroidism, whatever that could be… I should ask him what that means. I wonder if he would be willing to be my personal space heater again. I mean, I know I kept him warm every bit as he kept me warm when we were in Alaska. And, he knows I’ve been cold. Listen, I’m just trying to rationalize wanting to cuddle Spencer Reid. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t stopped thinking about that. And, I wouldn’t be upset if it happened again.

“Screw this,” I muttered as I climbed out of bed with a blanket around my body. I shook my head as I muttered profanities under my breath. My body shook as I walked towards the front door of my apartment. I slipped my shoes on and left the house, freezing as I left my warm home. 

And then I found myself standing just outside of Spencer’s apartment. Better him over Derek, I kept repeating to myself. I have a better relationship with him than Derek. Derek is more of an older brother to me. Spencer... I don’t know what he is to me. But he definitely isn't an older brother...

“Just… knock,” I whispered as I brought my fist to the door. It’s nearly two in the morning. I hope he wasn’t asleep. Although, knowing Spencer he was probably awake, reading over some old files. 

“What… What are you doing here?” Spencer’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I blinked before staring at him. He was wearing a black t-shirt and red and black checkered pj pants. Though his hair was messy and disheveled, he was definitely not asleep.  

“Just… Just coming to see how you’re doing,” I lied and shrugged. Spencer looked at me, raising an eyebrow. It was clear he wasn’t so sure of my answer. But to be fair, I wasn’t sure about my answer either.

“What’s really going on?” he asked, stepping to the side, silently inviting me in. I looked around his apartment and took a deep breath. His home always smelled like cinnamon and spice. I probably enjoyed it too much. Although, it made me feel warm… Which I was okay with. Answering Spencer’s question didn’t even cross my mind until I turned back and looked at him. “Is everything okay?” he asked again once I was facing him. I took a deep breath as I tugged on the ends of my sleeves.

“Uh, I was just… I was just thinking about the Alaska trip.” I wrinkled my nose as I looked anywhere but Spencer’s face. I was only mildly embarrassed that I was here… asking Spencer if he would want to cuddle with me… because I’m so cold. Man, I’m happy Spencer isn’t the teasing type. Not that he’d tease me about this. I know that anyone else would though… 

“What about the Alaska trip?” Spencer looked at me, his tone telling me he was very wary about my statement. I looked at the ground and shrugged.

“Just something you said, I guess,” I started as I looked at him, “Well, something you said earlier today,” I shrugged as I looked back down at the ground. I really wanted my blanket and hot water bottle. Even though I was warmer in his apartment, I was still cold. “Could I really be sick? Is that why I’m so cold?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest as I looked back at him. A shiver worked its way down my body and all the way to the tips of my toes and fingers. 

“Come on, I’m gonna make you hot chocolate, and then we’re gonna go lay in my bed, under the covers.” He held a hand out for me to take. I stared at it for a moment before carefully resting my hand in his. He clasped his fingers around mine before leading me to his kitchen.

“You didn’t answer my questions, Spencer. You know more than anyone that avoiding a question means your keeping something from someone.” I watched as he made two large mugs of hot cocoa.  

He still didn’t answer my questions as we walked towards his bedroom. And, in fact, he was silent up until I was sitting beside him on the bed, holding my mug of hot chocolate close to my body. Even though I was now in a warmer home, with a hot drink, several blankets, and the warmest person I know (despite his sometimes icy hands), I was still very cold. So, I looked over at him, watching as he flipped through the pages of his book.

“Are you going to answer my questions?” I asked, reaching over and placing my mug on the side table. Spencer looked over at me with a raised brow, slightly closing his book. “Am I actually dying?” I asked, feeling a certain fear grow in my tone. 

“You’re not dying,” he said as he folded the corner of the page in his book before closing it. I watched as he set it on his side table. 

“You don’t sound very convincing.” I shrugged, pulling one of my several blankets tighter around me. Spencer looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. He carefully gestured for me to move closer to him, and when I hesitated, he pulled me closer to him.

“You’re not dying. You’re not sick. You’re just cold. Everyone knows you’re probably the one who gets cold the most. Even when we were in Florida, you were cold,” Spencer said as he kept his arms around my body, holding me close to his. His body temperature was definitely warming me up, just like it had a few weeks prior.

“Hey! That’s because the stupid officers had the A/C on 65! It was freezing!” I moved away from him and looked at his face. I could feel a giggly smile grow on my face as I kept my eyes on him. “You giving me your sweater was like a gift from God.” I looked down at him. 

“I think that’s the fourth sweater that’s gone missing?” He copied my smile before laughing. I looked away from him, trying to play innocent. “And the only common denominator is you.” Spencer poked my nose before he pulled me back closer to him. I rolled my eyes before curling back into his side. The goosebumps that were once on my arms and exposed skin, were now fading away the longer I stayed beside Spencer.

“If it makes you feel any better, they were quite warm.” I smiled. I left out the part that I enjoyed that they smelled like him. “And, I’ll return them washed,” I added, again leaving out that I’ll be sad that they won’t hold his scent. 

“If they weren’t my favorite sweaters, I would say keep them. But I’m rather fond of two of those.” Spencer looked down at me with a warm smile. I laughed.

“Thanks for letting me in. I know it’s late. I promise I won’t make this a habit,” I laughed as I looked out onto the blankets in front of me. Part of me wondered what temperature Spencer had his furnace on, and how it was so warm. Mostly because my furnace was on pretty high and it was still like an icebox in my apartment. 

“It’s okay, really. You should work on getting a portable heater for your house and desk just so they warm up faster,” Spencer suggested.

I almost, very nearly, said “But then that’d mean I can’t come over anymore,” But I didn’t. So, I just stayed silent.

“Like Garcia said, your own personal space heater,” Spencer laughed. Though, I cringed, remembering what Derek had said.

“Yeah? Or I could just get a Derek Morgan.”

“Who would want him as a boyfriend,” he scoffed, sounding mildly hurt with my joke. I looked up at him with furrowed brows before sitting upright. 

“I never said I wanted him as my boyfriend. I was joking that he said he could be my space heater or a boyfriend. I was saying… What I meant was I could get a boyfriend instead. Because, you know…. Cuddling is a good way to-” 

“What if it was me,” he asked, cutting me off so swiftly. I had to look at him to make sure he actually said what he said, because he was so quiet and he said it so fast, I almost wasn’t sure.

“You want…” I furrowed my eyebrows, again, as I stared at him. Spencer was looking down at the blankets, probably wondering to himself if he actually said what he said. “Spencer, if you wanted to ask me out all you had to do was ask.” Okay, I was definitely warming up a lot faster now, feeling my blood rush from a sudden secondhand embarrassment that I didn’t really want to feel.

“It’s a lot more than that,” he muttered as he looked at me. I furrowed my eyebrows before reaching a hand up to his face. I carefully guided him so he was looking right at me. 

“It really isn’t… Like, ask me a question, any question.” I smiled, feeling my fingertips warm up under the warmth of his skin.

“Can I kiss you,” he asked, his voice very soft. I smiled before nodding, feeling a newfound excitement flood my body. Spencer lifted his hands and cupped my face, warming my cheeks instantly, before leaning closer to me. 

As his lips connected with mine, I finally felt warm for the first time in weeks. His arms holding me close to his body, like he became my own personal space heater, again. I could sense that he knew I was warming up because when he pulled away from me and looked down at me, he was smiling.

“I’d be okay if I made a habit of this.” Spencer nodded as he carefully ran a hand through my hair. I couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Good.” I smiled before pressing my lips to his for a moment, “Because I could too.”

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[etherrealoblivion]

Candy, Canes, and Caffeine

Summary: After Spencer is shot in the leg, Y/N finds it hard to hide her feelings.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Tags: fluff!!! (light smut). Reid-with-a-cane!!! gif by @imagining-in-the-margins​

A/N: fulfulling this request!

Rating: Mature(ish)

Words: 2,540

MASTERLIST

~

You didn’t even realize that it was Spencer on the ground when you arrived at the scene. At the sound of his squeaky voice shouting to help the shot man, your blood ran cold.

Forgetting all your FBI training, or, more accurately, throwing it out the window, you bolted onto the green lawn, collapsing by Spencer’s side and examining the wound just under his knee.

You didn’t even realize that he’d been talking until you felt his strangely cold hand on your cheek, lifting your gaze to him.

“Hey, I’m okay,” he assured you, looking far too calm for a man with a bullet in his leg. But, that was Spencer, always doing the opposite of what you expected.

Before you knew it they were wheeling him away to the hospital and you were left wondering why the hell your heart was beating so fast.

It didn’t take you long to figure out. In fact, precisely four days after Spencer’s return. It started rather simply: the team was out of town on a case and Spencer stayed behind to assist Garcia due to his injury. Which would have been fine! If not for the fact that they needed you to stay behind as well to assist the two of them.

In your opinion, it didn’t make any sense. They could have easily had someone else stay behind, but for some reason, Hotch had impressed upon you the necessity of having you there with Reid.

And Garcia! Of course.

It wasn’t like you were just there to babysit Reid. An idea that became more and more enticing as time passed.

“Hey, I’m gonna get coffee, do you want anything?”

Spencer glanced up at you from where he’d been rereading the case file, rubbing his eyes drearily. It was nearly nine p.m. and the two of you were the only ones still in the office.

“Oh, you don’t have to…. Here, I’ll come with,” he muttered, standing up and leaning on his cane to come with you.

“Spencer! You should be resting!”

“Actually, some studies have actually found that it’s better to use an injured muscle rather than slack off. For example—”

“Okay!” you laughed, hooking your arm around his as you walked to the kitchen. “Okay, I believe you. But at least let me make your cup for you?”

With a soft smile, he sat down at the little table, wincing as his weight left his leg.

“Does it hurt?” you cringed at the question. Of course, it hurt! A goddamn bullet went through it.

“Only when I stand on it. Or move it too much. Or too little.”

When you looked back to see if he was joking, you were pleased to find him smiling widely, scrunching his nose at you and tucking his hair behind his ears. God, his hair had gotten long.

Sticking out your tongue at him, you set the timer on the coffee maker and picked out a couple of mugs from the cabinet.

“Hey, are there any more of those little chocolates left? They go so well with coffee.”

You looked in the little tin Emily had brought in that used to contain an assortment of little dark chocolates. Sadly, it was empty.

“No luck. Although….” you reached up to the cupboard above the microwave, cheering when you saw an identical tin. “I knew she had an extra one!”

But, even standing on your tippy-toes, the shelf was too tall for you to reach on your own.

“Ugh, dammit!”

A soft hand snaked around your shoulders, softly pulling you toward the ground and you spun around, face to face with Spencer. You gasped softly at his proximity. He was so close, you could smell his shampoo. He smelled like green tea and autumn.

One hand on his cane, holding him upright carefully, the other hand reached up and fetched the tin effortlessly. You’d forgotten how tall he really was in the past week due to his frequent inclination to sitting.

“Thank you,” you breathed, suddenly painfully aware of how close your lips were, or, more accurately, how far apart they were.

“Sure,” he whispered back.

It was dark in the kitchen. After seven o’clock, the lights get turned off so the only luminance you got was from the wide-awake city just outside the huge glass windows.

Spencer’s eyes were half-lidded, watching you very carefully, neither of you daring to move.

For a split second, it looked as though he was leaning in, but, oh so cruelly, the coffee timer went off and you flinched away, turning toward the machine. When you looked back, Spencer had sat down.

Oh well. It was probably wishful thinking, anyhow.

“Three sugars?” you teased as he proudly poured several packets into his mug. “How are you alive?”

“You know, I ask myself that more often than you might think,” he laughed, glancing down at his leg.

Unintentionally, he’d shifted the mood of the conversation and the questions you’d been holding back were daring to break free.

“Spencer, do you ever….”

“Do I ever what?” he prompted after you trailed off.

“I don’t know…. Do you ever feel like sometimes, it isn’t worth it?”

“No.”

He answered quicker than you’d expected and with a sureness you didn’t associate with him. At your shocked expression, he clarified.

“I mean, there are times when it doesn’t all work out, sure. But… every life we save… that makes it worth it.”

“Yeah,” you leaned back, taking a long sip of your coffee. “I guess I’m just worried about the lives we don’t save.”

He shrugged.

“Sadly, in our line of work, you have to separate yourself from the case. Don’t get attached.”

“What if it’s too late? What if you’re already attached and the person whose life doesn’t get saved is someone you lo—”

Stopping abruptly, you took a deep breath, glancing down at where your hand was tightly clutching your cup, letting the tension melt away. When did that happen?

“It’s very rare that an unsub comes after our loves ones,” it sounded like he was trying to sound calm about it but you felt the weight of his eyes boring into you.

“What if the person who gets hurt isn’t…. What if it’s someone who doesn’t know they’re loved?”

Spencer was looking at you but you didn’t dare to meet his gaze. If you did, you knew he would instantly understand what you were saying.

And yet, the pull of his eyes was too strong for you to not look. As expected, when you made eye-contact, his expression shifted to one of understanding. He was the first to look away.

“I should go, it’s getting late,” you stood, clearing your throat and placing your cup in the sink.

When you turned back around, Spencer was there.

“Why would someone you love not know that they’re loved?”

He was closer than he’d been before, the air between you charged with the many outcomes the next few minutes held for you. When you spoke, it was barely audible but you knew he heard you.

“Because I haven’t told him.”

His hand moved to your cheek so, so slowly it felt like an hour passed. Once his skin met yours, you couldn’t help but lean into the feeling, eyes fluttering shut and pushing your face against his calloused palm.

Two little words was all it took to make you lose all sense of resolve. Two words that shattered the glass barrier between you that you hadn’t even known was there.

“He knows.”

Letting out the breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding, you slid your hands slowly up the front of his suit jacket, resting on his shoulders. He was so tall.

“How do you know?”

He hesitated for a split second, glancing down at your lips and then back up at your eyes. But suddenly, he pulled back, a wince ghosting over his face and shifting on his feet.

“Sorry,” he muttered, glancing down at his cane reluctantly.

Your finger moved to his lips, silently telling him to be quiet as you walked forward, slowly backing him up until his legs hit the seat of his chair and he sat down in it, staring up at you. Now that he was sitting, you moved to stand between his legs, holding the eye-contact with every ounce of energy you could spare.

“Does it hurt?” you repeated, fingers danced lightly over his left knee, touching just softly enough to tickle but not nearly hard enough to hurt. He kept watching you the whole time.

“No.”

“Can I see?”

He clearly had not been expecting that. It took a bit of stuttering before he was able to form a coherent sentence.

“How-how would you…? I’m-I can’t-I’m not supposed to roll up my pant legs.”

His eyes followed your hands as they slowly made their way up his leg to his belt, hooking underneath it.

“Like this?” it was more a question than an answer. He looked at you like he couldn’t quite figure out what you were planning. There was a wariness he was trying to cover up. As if you’d pull down his pants and start laughing at him. Then, he seemed to realize your intentions were— for the most part— pure.

He nodded curtly and you got to work unbuckling his belt, slowly popping open the button and sliding his zipper down. He lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down his legs.

You had to stop yourself from gasping at the sight of his thick thighs. He was much more muscular than you’d been expecting. Normally, he looked so skinny under his tight work shirts, you’d thought there wouldn’t be a trace of muscle beneath.

Pulling the fabric down, you let it fall to the floor, exposing his bandaged knee. Your hand was drawn to the wrap like a magnet, hesitating before making any contact, eyeing him questioningly.

He nodded again, watching you intently the whole time.

Gently, oh, so gently, you stroked the soft skin of his knee, running your fingers everywhere but where you knew the bullet had gone.

The tension in the room had risen considerably and you felt the urge to break it.

“Must be a hassle, huh?” you laughed softly, resting your hand just above his knee at the end of his thigh.

“Yeah,” he chuckled back, “makes it really hard to do lots of stuff.”

You crooked an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Oh? Like what?”

He seemed shocked by the question like he hadn’t actually thought about it.

“Just simple stuff. Mostly standing. Actually, it’s made it harder to use my right arm as well. Since I use it to hold my cane all day, it gets really tiring.”

“So you can’t really use your right arm? Aren’t you right-handed?”

He smiled sadly.

“I said it makes things harder.”

“Harder to brush your teeth and stuff?”

He raised his eyebrows slightly, looking away and muttering, “and stuff, for sure.”

“What?”

“I have trouble…. Nothing, nevermind.” He shifted in his chair but his leg stayed still like he didn’t want to disturb your hand.

“Spencer, you can tell me! What, you can’t masturbate?” you joked, punching him playfully in the arm.

But his face went blank and his gaze snapped away from yours, cheeks turning a soft pink in the darkness.

Oh?

Ohhhhh.

You were suddenly painfully aware of how close your hand was to his….

Hmm.

Maybe?

No.

Well, it’s worth a shot.

“Spencer?” he reluctantly looked at you again, an embarrassed expression on his face. It didn’t stay that way for long, though, as your hand slowly inched its way further up his thigh and his eyes went wide, snapping to where your hand was.

“Do you want some help?”

He looked at you again, eyes slightly glazed over and you swore you could feel him shiver where your hand was placed on his inner thigh, inches from his underwear. When he realized what you meant, he softly gasped, looking around the room quickly.

“W-what did you say?”

Your fingers danced across the bottom hem of his boxers, coaxing a gasp from him as you trailed up to the waistband, hooking your fingers underneath and gently tugging. 

“Do you. Want. Some help?” with each word you slid your fingers deeper in his boxers. You weren’t going to touch him, though. Not yet. You needed permission.

“Spencer?”

All too quickly, his hand wove through your hair and yanked your face up to meet his lips, crashing together in a mix of teeth and tongues. He tasted like bitter chocolate and sugary coffee. It took you a moment to comprehend that this was even happening. Your hand was still halfway inside of his underwear, so close to touching his….

He pulled back and instantly began to apologize and backtrack but you weren’t having that.

“Shut up,” and you climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs, making sure to avoid his injury, dedication all of your energy towards pulling his long locks and placing his arms on your hips, gently urging him to move you. His boxers were so thin and your skirt had ridden up so your panties were pressed firmly against something hard. You didn’t think too much about that, more focused on deepening the tender kiss into something more.

But you had to pull back to look at him, lips plump, red, and thoroughly kissed, a glaze over his eyes and a dopey smile on his face.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Spencer,” you admitted, breath ghosting over his neck, a spattering of goosebumps appearing in the wake.

“Me too,” he mumbled against your lips, hands carefully roaming up and down your back as you arched into him. The movement jostled his leg and he sucked in air through his teeth.

You froze atop him, pulling back to ask, “Are you okay?”

He nodded tightly, eyes clenched shut and you smiled softly at him.

“I hate that it took you getting shot for this to happen,” you joked, sliding your hands across his stomach under his shirt, reveling in the way he shuddered.

“I don’t mind,” he chirped happily, clasping his hands behind your back and giving you a dazzling smile. 

“Listen, I know it’s late but… Do you maybe want to get a coffee? A proper one,” you added, nodding towards his discarded cup.

Clearly excited at the idea, he perked up a bit in his seat, wincing at the way your butt bumped his knee.

“I’d like that. One condition?”

You nodded.

“Help me up?”

Smiling, you stood up, pulled up his pants, slowly redid his belt, and held out a hand to help him stand. He picked up his cane from where it rested against the table.

“So long as you’re buying.”

He laughed, leaning on his cane and taking your hand in his, gently limping toward the elevator, you at his side.

“When don’t I?”

“Come on, moneybags,” you gently moved his arm so it was around your shoulders so that he could lean more of his weight onto you rather than the cane. “I think we’re gonna need lots of caffeine for the night I’ve got planned.”

“I can’t wait.”

~

TAGLIST

~

@whollytaciturn​ @101donuts​ @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @happyiidiot @cielo1984 @thupidalethea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid @aloha-ashley-taylor @justchiara-02 @spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin @matthewreid​ @brokenanxiety​ @thatsonezesty13​ @psychedellic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck @awhollandx @baddreamsandbrokenhearts @simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam @gejatume @url-under-construction @radkryptonitepeanut @idontneedalltheseemotions @krymson182 @addie5264  @pinkdiamond1016 @gublergirls @georgia4287 @thineeminnie @untainted-memories @cm-is-kinda-cool

[proxyedgy]

Today is April 6th!

To celebrate this wonderful occasion, here are 33 Hakumen fun facts:

1. Hakumen’s mask can come off, but nobody knows what his face looks like. Indeed, this may very well had been retconned after the first game and we’re none the wiser

2. Hakumen’s sword, Ookami, is over 2 metres long, being actually taller than Hakumen himself. You know what they say about samurai with long swords...

They can do some badass poses

3. Hakumen has 16 eyes. Not a single one of them is on his face

4. Hakumen is Toshimichi Mori’s favourite character, making him the worst Blazblue character by default

5. Hakumen approaches every situation with almost mechanical detachment, as he has perfected the art of being a dick

6. Despite everything, Hakumen still cares for the other Six Heroes. Yes, including Terumi. Especially Terumi. Don’t believe anyone that tells you otherwise

7. Hakumen's hobbies are unknown, as he doesn’t like anything, but some say he bakes sweets in his spare time

8. Hakumen is the only character in Continuum Shift not to have an alternate gag ending, since he’s boring af

9. In every game of the franchise, Hakumen’s plot relevance changes. By the time CentralFiction comes around, his only contribution is to die so Terumi can become the cishets’ favourite main

10. Before the 2.0 update to Cross Tag, Hakumen would speak Japanese in his special interaction with the Six Heroes, despite whatever vocal settings the game had for him. He could do that because he’s Hakumen, and he doesn’t give a fuck about your voice settings

11. My friend has asked me at least three times what the hell this hole in Hakumen’s armour is for

I still don’t have a good answer to that

12. In the main series, Hakumen only has three files for in-game portraits, because emoting is for the weak

13. The only thing Hakumen players know is to press D. Yes, they’re winging everything else, the goddamn menaces

14. In CentralFiction there is no Unlimited Hakumen

but he got this new move instead which is arguably worse

15. Hakumen’s sword can cut through projectiles. Because fuck you that’s why

16. The Hakumen at the end of Terumi’s arcade in ChronoPhantasma is not real but the pain and suffering he caused me when I first started playing are

17. I only defeated this bitch with the “deny Astral Heats” ability and I’m still salty about it

what the hell was I supposed to do, grab the bastard?

18. HAKUMEN is sometimes written as HAKU-MEN or HAKU=MEN in the games. Nobody knows why

19. Hakumen shares his voice actor (David Vincent in English, Kakihara Tetsuya in Japanese) with Jin Kisaragi, much to the surprise of the 7 people that bought Cross Tag without knowing Blazblue

20. Hakumen’s name can be translated as “white mask", but you can also read it as “white noodles” if you want, no one’s gonna stop you

21. Technically Hakumen and Jin Kisaragi should not be able to exist at the same time, but since Hakumen is really cool he gets a pass (Jin is on thin fucking ice though)

22. Although some think the insides of Hakumen’s armour are silent, the little horns on the sides of his helmet are, in fact, antennas, so he’s always tuned into the radio. He can’t turn it off

23. Some of Hakumen’s sprites have his hair as a separate object

The first time I saw this one in particular I almost had a heart attack

24. At the time of the Dark War, the OLN wanted to capture the Six Heroes, but never went through it because Hakumen scared them (no, really)

25. Hakumen has a technique called Time Killer, which “strips a target of all their remaining time in the world and instantly kills them”. Anybody could achieve the same result by stabbing their opponent, but Hakumen trademarked the term, so he’s technically the only one who knows it

26. After losing to Hakumen many, many times in my first playthrough of Calamity Trigger, every single time I see this portrait without fail I will say:

“stick that damn sword up your ass” 

27. Hakumen is currently only at 20% of his usual jerkassery, and he better stay that way if he knows what’s good for him

28. When Taokaka steals food from Hakumen, he drops a tiny Pakumen-shaped foodstuff, though it’s anybody’s guess as to where exactly it comes from

29. When electrocuted, Hakumen’s sprite has no body inside the Unit, so the “white void” part of his speech is probably not metaphorical

30. Hakumen’s speech also has a funny quirk in that every time he says it I can feel my soul leaving this earthly vessel, just for it to be drawn back through sheer force of anger

31. In gameplay, Hakumen’s techniques are named after nature, seasons and Buddhism, as he denounced his Catholic upbringing after donning the Unit

32. Hakumen is canonically British, as if we needed any more reasons to hate him already

33. Finally, for the last fun fact, I would like to remind everyone that Terumi is very much jealous of Hakumen’s enormous, beautiful, honking great knockers

and that’s why he stole the Unit back.

[agentsoftie]

mistletoe

summary: you like him, a lot. so penny does something. something that may or may not involve mistletoe

a/n: it’s vlogmas y’all! also just act like this was uploaded on the 1st instead of the second. also, this love isn’t proof read so bare with me

pairing and word count: spencer x (f) reader & 1.6k

The day was December 1st, and in the paradise that is Virginia, that meant Holiday season. The lights were already up. And the cold air was picking up so much that one couldn't possibly go outside without wearing a coat, fearing for hyperthermia. Carolers were out around the town, singing their hearts out and freezing their hands off. Pictures With Santa was being set up in the park, and elves were practicing their dances and jingles. You could smell the cookies and the peppermint from a mile away. Christmas songs and melodies were playing all across town. And in response, all the hungover college kids were groaning and sulking all across town as they got their morning coffee and went to class.

Each radio was playing some form of holiday music instead of its general hillbilly religious crap. And you honestly didn't mind. Although, it's not like you ever bothered to turn on the radio. But today, something was different. Something had just changed. Maybe it was the fact that it was now the time for laughter and joy instead of harm. Maybe that was the change.

The cold air suddenly leaves your ears as the feeling of warmth rushes in. And to your surprise, you're greeted by a very peppy Lenny. Although, you did bring him a donut this morning, so that might have an effect. “Y/N! Good Morning!” He said as he buzzed you in. “You too Len! Hope you like the snack.” Before you could finish the question, he was half way done with his donuts. You smiled to yourself as you entered the elevator.

“Wait!” You heard someone yell as you were about to hit the button. You waited, as one does, and soon saw the figure that was running towards you clear up. “Spencer,” you breathed out as he ran in. “Y/n, hi.” He said as he was catching his breath.

You hit the button and quickly looked down, trying to avoid his gaze as much as possible. You see, you loved him. Ever since the dawn of time. Or, at least since last December. See, today, technically marks your one year anniversary since you joined the team. See, the first time you first laid eyes on him, the first time you said hello, your heart skipped a beat. The way he moved, the way he talked, just him. Him- himself, was memorizing enough. Never though. Never did you have the courage to talk or say anything to him. The team always noticed, but they never said anything, saying as you got along with them all great.

As soon as the elevator opened you ran for the two glass doors… As subtly as possible. The office smelt like peppermint and hot chocolate, and there was only one possible reason for that. Penelope.

“Good morning my lovely little love birds!”

You both stopped in your steps and looked at each other dead in the eye. “You guys, I’m joking, come on.” You both chuckled awkwardly and he quickly sprinted to his desk as you but your coffee on your desk.

“Like what you’ve done with the place Nel. Quite nice if I say so.”

She set a stack of piles on the desk, and straightened your hair.“You better like it. I stayed till like 10 getting everything ready and paid Lenny 20 dollars to help me set up half of these things.”

“Sucks that it’s gonna be down by mid January.” You say as you take some files off.

“Ooooh, yeah no, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Hey Nel, these aren't files.” You say as you give her the file you were looking at and picked through the other ones. Just to find that they weren't files either.

“Oh! Look at that! I never even noticed,” she said as she straightened her pasture. Spencer looked over to see what the commotion was about, but you tried not to pay attention.

“Spencer, would you come here please!”

You looked at Penelope and cursed in every single language you knew, and that was including ALS. She was the only one at the BAU who knew about your crush on Spencer. Since she was the reason you ever even wanted, or considered joining the BAU.

He got up and walked to your desk as you tried to look busy.

“What’s up Pen?” He said as he put his hand on your desk.

“I need you and Y/N to do something for me.” You looked shocked, but luckily, Spencer didn't see anything. “Can you please go down and do a few errands for me. Or well, for us.”

“Will we get paid?” You asked, she nonned.

“Is Hotch okay with this?” He asked, she, again, nodded. “Alright then, just text us what you need.” He said as he grabbed your hand and walked towards the door. You quickly grabbed your phone and wallet and pulled yourself forward. Your cheeks were rosy red. Or, as red as they could be, so you kept your head high. Although that probably doesn't work in your favor when you will be stuck with him the entire day.

“Okay, first of all, fresh roses.”

“Oooh, I know a great little flower shop. It’s by the bakery near Santa’s Little Shop.”

“Where?”

“It’s by my house here I’ll-”

“Got it.” He said as he cut you off. You wanted to ask him how he knew where you lived, but then you figured that before you came, he went over you and your file like 50 times. Or with him, most likely one.”

You looked out the window as snow fell down to the ground. It was a light snow, nothing big, nothing new. It was the type of snow where you could build a snowman, but it might take an eternity. He drove slowly and carefully turning on the radio to find The Beatles playing.

“Here we go.” He said as Blackbird was dying down in the background.

“Perfect.”

You both got out of the car and looked around. Some things just never change. Even when you’re off of work.

“Hi! Welcome!”

“Hey Blair! Where are all or your red, white, and green flowers?”

“That’s… oddly specific.” She spoke as she got up from behind the counter.

“Work.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Whatever you say… Well okay, here we have our roses, a staple piece. Then, some white roses, another staple piece. And Finally, green roses!”

You smiled a little. It was small, but she saw it. “I think Y/N’s looking for something more festive? Like… these poinsettia’s!” Spencer said as he walked around the store/

“I’ll take the roses, all three colors, and the poinsettia’s please.”

She rang up the total and you were gonna give her your credit card, but he beat you too it.”Spence…” You trailed “Y/N don't.”

You grabbed the flowers and so did he. He opened the car and as soon as you got it, the conversation picked up once more. “You know, you never had to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

“Okay well so did I.”

“Well I did it first.”

“What are you, five?”

“Is that supposed to mean something Y/N?” He said as he looked over at you.

“Ehh ehh, eyes the road!” You said as you snapped at the road.

He simply laughed as he looked back. “Okay, Now the coffee shop. She said that we need fresh treats since some of the kids are coming over tonight.”

“What’s tonight?” You asked as you looked around at the white ground. This was the first time in a while, or maybe in forever that you were having a normal and fluent conversation with him. It’s always, “Hi Spencer *runs away” or “Hey, *dies inside*” BUt this, this was different. This was fun. This was something you could get used to.

“Remember the office party.”

“Fuck… Yeah I forgot.”

“Ehh don't worry, so did I. But I think I’m just gonna stay home and re-read something.”

“Weirdo,” you said as you ran your fingers through his hair and messed it up. Somehow, just somehow, your heart wasn't beating 20 times fast almost causing you to fall dead on the spot. But instead you were just having fun and laughing. With Spencer. Spencer Reid. Dr. Spencer Reid. Someone you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“Do you like the Holidays?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, it was the only holiday that I looked forward to when I was a child. Still now too I guess. Which is highly concerning, but we’re not gonna talk about that.”

He chuckled. “You’re funny Y/N,”

“I know.” You said as you smirked.

You looked around at everything that was going on. Kids running around and people drinking hot chocolate. Other people watching the carolers sing, and others kissing under the mistletoe. One person though couldn't stop staring. They couldn't stop staring at you. They looked at your magnificent hair and melted. They looked into your eyes and watched them shine. And heard a baby laugh for the first time every time you talked or laughed.

“What about you Spence?”

“Huh?”

“You like the holidays?”

“Yeah,”

“Well, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you like the holidays?”

“Because of mistletoe,”

“Because of what?”

You were cut off by his hand cuffing your face. I took you a moment to realize what was happening, but once you did, you melted in. You put your hands in his hair and pulled a little. The kiss was aggressive for a public kiss but you soon eased it up due to the fact that this was happening in public. You broke apart due to the fact that breathing exists. And smiled into each other's lips.

“I said… because of mistletoe.”

“Screw you Spencer Reid.”

“You wish.”

“Really, cuz that didn't look like it.”

“You kissed back.”

“By default,”

tagging; @criminalmindsmoodrn​, @marshmallowtraver​, @ghostly-angelic​, @himarisolace​

moot tags: (sorry if this annoys you) @blakeprentiss​, @lizziechase​, @goldenxreid​

[peachyteez]

death’s grip ≫ DAY TWO, LITTLE CUB.

the tiger hybrid managed to escape from south korea’s top illegal hybird ring fights. of course, they didn’t let him go so easily. losing his chasers in a forest, covered in blood—his and others’—he decided to accept his fate of death from his wounds until a female and two other hybrids managed to take him from death’s grip.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @choisaniskillingme, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @koasworld, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny

can’t be tagged: @yoongisleftboob

feel free to let me know if you would like to be part of the list! :)

✧ notes: went on a lil tangent towards the end buuut ┐(︶▽︶)┌

back。| next。

hongjoong slowly drifted in and out of consciousness. as he slowly came back to reality, so did his senses. the constant beeping of a machine next to him, the painfully familiar hospital antiseptic, the soft mattress he was laying on—wait.

mattress? shooting up in the hospital bed, hongjoong examined his surroundings. instead of the forest where he swore he was just at, he was inside what seemed to be a hospital room. feeling something in his arm, his eyes widened when he looked down. there was a needle in his arm. following the tube that was connected to the needle, he looked up and noticed a clear fluid in a bag that was slowly dripping out. his mind went into panic mode, not understanding what had happened and how he had gotten there in the first place.

suddenly, the door of his room automatically opened and he made eye contact with a familiar woman. the woman from the forest? 

she smiled, seeing him conscious. “good morning, hongjoong,” she greeted. “how do you feel?”

hongjoong blinked, still trying to process the situation. looking down at himself, he realized he was no longer wearing his own clothes, but rather a baby blue hospital top and bottom. he looked back up to her, confusion written all over his face. 

jiyu chuckled. “do you remember? you were bleeding out in the forest and i called the facility’s rescue team to bring you back here. don’t worry, i didn’t change your clothes. yeonjun did. and we cleaned your...many wounds and bandaged them up for you.”

peeking down through the neckline of the top, he indeed noticed the white gauze and bandaging that covered his entire torso. there were even some on his arms and legs. 

“yeonjun washed you up, too,” she sheepishly admitted. “we didn’t realize how much dirt and...blood you had on you until he washed you.” hongjoong had so much dirt and blood that you couldn’t even see the orange fur of his ears and tail. 

“...why?” hongjoong stuttered out, utterly confused. “why did you help me? we don’t even know each other.”

jiyu cocked her head in confusion. “i don’t have to know you to help. the caretakers here don’t know any of the hybrids when they first come in, but that doesn't stop us from trying to help,” she explained with a soft smile. “there’s some good out in the world, hongjoong.”

some good. does that mean he’s gotten the bitter end of the spectrum his whole life?

“other than your wounds,” jiyu continued as she looked through his file, “you don’t have any life-threatening injuries, thank god. but you will have to remain here in the facility for a few weeks for you to fully recover. from how you reacted to me two days ago, i can tell you’ve been through a lot.” 

hongjoong slightly winced at her words. “two days ago?” he asked, slightly horrified. 

“you passed out in the ambulance and you were knocked out the whole day yesterday,” she revealed. “most likely from exhaustion and pain.”

he blankly nodded. he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he had been rescued, or so he hopes. judging from his environment and the woman in front of him, he was pretty sure that was the case. “...you won’t bring me back, right? to my owners?” he quietly asked. the pain, the blood, the sound of the crowds cheering and chanting for a kill. he winced. he never wanted to kill them. he never wanted to hurt them. he did it to survive, to see another sunrise from his cage. 

jiyu furrowed her eyebrows. “if you don’t want to go back, then i won’t force you. although, i don't know where you would go after recovering. judging from your behavior, i can tell you didn’t have the brightest life, am i right?” 

hongjoong didn’t say anything, he just stared down at his clasped hands in his lap. taking his silence as a yes, she felt her heart ache. he���s like seonghwa and yunho. she felt her anger slowly rise. there’s some messed up people in this world, i swear i’m gonna track them down.

shaking the thoughts off, she looked at hongjoong again. “don’t worry, you’re safe here, i promise,” she reassured. “and if you feel uncomfortable in the slightest way, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

hongjoong observed the woman. it was amazing how easily she was willing to go to such lengths to help him. and for what? what was her motive? what would she get out of it? he suddenly remembered the two hybrids that was with her that day.

“your hybrids...” he started, unsure of how to word his question. what did you do to make them trust you so easily? he wanted answers. something, anything  that would put down the little bud of doubt and distrust inside. he didn’t want to be betrayed again.

“seonghwa and yunho?” she asked, taking a seat on the chair next to his bed. “what about them?”

he fidgeted with his tail. “...what did you do?” 

jiyu silently thought about his question. what did she do? she didn’t do anything special—she just did what she assumed anyone with a heart would do. care for them, love them, respect them. it’s just the basic manners. she wryly smiled. “nothing special or manipulating if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said. “you’d think it’s just basic manners to show hybrids some love and respect, but i guess not for everyone.”

she looked over the bandaging on his arm. “i don’t know how your life was like before ending up in the forest, but let me make one thing clear. not everyone in the world is the same. if every human out there truly was heartless, the world would’ve gone to shit a long time ago. someone had the idea of creating this hybrid recovery center. doesn't that go to show you that they want to help?”

hongjoong intently listened to her little tangent. while he wasn’t completely convinced, he could feel his heart and mind ever-so slowly open up to her words. 

“i won’t lie, it’s sad how one bad apple can spoil the whole tree,” she humorously laughed. “it takes one heartless person for hybrids to lose trust in us completely. i don’t blame you, though,” she mumbled.

with a small smile at him, she stood up from the chair. “all i’m saying is...give us a chance, yeah?” she felt deja-vu from that line. it was the same request she had asked seonghwa when they first met. “you can start with me since i’m your designated caretaker, then if and when you're ready, i’ll bring in more people, deal?”

what seemed like an eternity passed before hongjoong slowly nodded his head. “deal,” he quietly agreed, his orange and black tiger ears slightly twitching in anticipation. 

jiyu smiled, happy that he was slowly letting her in. “thanks, little tiger.”

hongjoong raised an eyebrow at her name for him. “little tiger?”

a mischievous and teasing look flashed across her face. “you just look so small and adorable on the bed,” she laughed. his cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he looked away, a pout unconsciously forming on his lips. 

“what was it about good humans you were talking about?” he mumbled to himself. but seeing her smile and radiating happy energy, he couldn’t bring himself to be mad. 

strange, he thought, how did she reduce me to a little cub in only half an hour?

glancing at the clock, her eyes almost bulged out of her head. “good god, i promised beomgyu i’d eat lunch with him!” she frantically yelped as she quickly gathered the paperwork and clipboard. she could already envision the golden-retriever’s pouting face while asking her why she was ten minutes late. “oh, right. are you hungry?” she asked hongjoong.

seeing him shake his head, she pursed her lips in thought. “well, it’s my lunch break right now. i’ll buy some food for you and bring it back when i’m on the clock again, okay? alright, i’ll see you in a bit!”

without giving him time to deny her offer, she sped walk out the door. hongjoong didn’t know how to react. one minute, she was seriously explaining to him that there was good in the world; then another minute, she became a clumsy girl that lost track of time. 

he scoffed. “if all good humans are clumsy like that, then what’s gonna happen to me?”

[simplybakugou]

Shut Up and Kiss Me

↝ Working side-by-side, Bakugou felt himself become encaptivated by you the more he spent time with you. After a failure of a first date, he can’t help but be drawn to you even more under the unruly night sky.

PROMPT: “Can I kiss you?”

⋆ PAIRING: prohero!bakugou x female!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing ⋆ WORD COUNT: 5019

A/N: Here’s my submission for the @bnhabookclub​ event! I changed the prompt a little to “I wanna kiss you” to fit Bakugou’s character a little more. Here’s the link to the event!

✐posted 05.16.2020✐

Bakugou, one of the most self-assured pro heroes in the world had never felt so emotionally flustered until he met you. He always found himself observing you whenever you were at the agency, even if it was rare that the two of you were in the building at the same time. You were a rookie hero who was excited as well as determined to make your way to the top. You had a strong quirk and if there’s anything Bakugou recognized, it was a suitable rival. Through numerous training sessions and working your ass off, you slowly climbed up the rankings and eventually became the number two hero, working at the same agency, one that Bakugou owned himself. 

On that particular day, Bakugou had finished a mission earlier than expected, luckily dodging any reporters who always invaded his personal space and pissed him off. He had gone back to his agency, wanting to change out of his hunk of metal of a costume and return home to get some rest. He couldn’t ignore the disappointment he felt when he scanned the room and didn’t see you around.

Nonetheless, he continued walking down the street, thankful that his agency wasn’t located in a socially attractive area like other top notch agencies. As he turned down the street, something caught his eye and he couldn’t help but stare at the sight. 

There you were on the corner of the intersection, looking practically unrecognizable. Bakugou had never seen you without your hero costume on, usually ending up as a sweaty mess with your hair tousled and your costume ripped and torn at times. But there you were in a dress and heels, makeup perfectly painted onto your skin, and your hair pinned neatly. You were practically radiating an aura that commanded everyone to have their attention drawn to you. Bakugou never really cared about looks but seeing you now looking more beautiful than any person he had ever seen, he couldn’t help but stare. 

With looking so stunning, that aura of yours attracted the attention of others other than Bakugou. He felt his fists tighten when from across the street as he was waiting for the light to change, a grubby man approached you, smirking as he looked down at you. 

“I’ve never seen such a pretty little lady in these parts of town.” He grinned even wider at you. Even passerbys couldn’t recognize you without your costume.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Get lost, dickwad.”

The man narrowed his eyes at you, reaching down to feel you up. Right as Bakugou felt his body move towards you instinctively to help you, you turned around, twisting the man’s wrist in your own. The impact sent him falling down, hitting his head on the stop sign behind him. Bakugou couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a sense of relief knowing you were strong on your own, not having to rely on anyone to protect yourself. 

As you began crossing the street, Bakugou absentmindedly crossed the other way, not wanting to run into you. He didn’t understand why at first but he didn’t want you to know that he was watching you. He saw that you were heading towards the agency and he began going through the shortcut that he often would go through if the press would hover outside of the building at times. Bakugou was able to get to the building before you did and he let out a sigh of relief, beginning to unlatch the gauntlets around his wrists. 

“Hey, Ground Zero, great work out there today,” Haru, one of the secretaries from the front desk stated.

Bakugou nodded in response, moving to the back to quickly change out of his hero costume. He wanted to leave immediately and not have to run into you on the way here. He began to recall the way you were dressed and how you looked, closing the door behind him to not only change out of his costume but also hide the blush that was evident on his cheeks.

A few moments later, you pushed open the doors to the building, going towards the front desk. Haru looked up, surprised that you were here so abruptly as well as your change in attire. “(H/N), what’re you doing here? It’s your day off.”

You sighed. “I know. But I’m bored out of my mind so please give me work to do.”

The other receptionist, Aiko, looked you up and down with a grin. “Ooh, I see someone’s all dressed up! Did you go on a date? Was that why you wanted a day off?”

You rolled your eyes at her. “No, my mom made me go to some shitty brunch with her boyfriend’s family. They’re all pestering me so I got out of there and now I have nothing to do.”

“I can go through some reports and see what you can do,” Aiko said with a wink and you thanked her.

“Man, can’t believe our two biggest heroes are in the building. You guys are usually never here at the same time,” Haru commented, looking at you in awe.

You raised your brows, perking up immediately. “Ground Zero’s here?”

Haru nodded, pointing down the hall. “He’s in the back.”

You smirked, pulling out your phone and typing something in your web browser as you made your way to the back. You pushed open the door without any warning and Bakugou, who was in the midst of changing his pants, was taken aback, his face burning up as you stared at his half naked body. Only his briefs were covering him and he held his pants up to shield his legs from your eyes. “What the fuck?!”

“Just wanted to pop in and say ‘hello.’ And to show you this.” You held your phone up to an article covering your new ranking. “I’m in second place now. So just you wait; I’ll be number one soon enough!”

You slammed the door behind you as you made your own dramatic exit, leaving Bakugou utterly speechless and stunned. Just when he believed he couldn’t be more intrigued, you proved him wrong once again. You reignited his burning desire to be the best, wanting to show you exactly why he was the number one hero in the first place.

Since that day, you worked twice as hard as you did before and with your handwork, Bakugou wasn’t going to let you beat him so easily. He had to make sure to work twice as hard as you did, ultimately leading to him staying on top. As time progressed, you were often asked to accompany Bakugou on various missions and with the time the two of you spent together, you became close. 

“I can’t believe I’m still ranked number two,” you grunted in annoyance as you walked with Bakugou side by side back to the agency.

Bakugou smirked. “Hah, like I was just gonna let you surpass me without a fight. Dream on.”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest and pushed open the large glass doors. Bakugou made his way all the way to the back like he usually did while you stood in front of Aiko’s desk, pouting profusely.

Aiko snickered, recognizing that look of defeat on your face. “Let me guess: the rankings came out and you’re still number two?”

You clenched your fists, slamming them on the counter in frustration. “He’s just too damn good! I don’t know how to beat him!”

“Come on, you can’t tell me you thought it would be easy, right?” Aiko sneered playfully. “He does work with you, too.” You stuck your tongue out at her as she got up to go to the filing cabinet. 

“(H/N)? Could you fill out a report from today’s patrol?” Haru asked in a tone lower than normal.

“Sure!” You said, grabbing the clipboard from him and filling it out on the counter in front of his desk. Being drawn to your work, you didn’t notice Haru fidgeting in his seat as he took shy glances at you. Although you weren’t aware of it, Bakugou sure was as he came out of the back room, glaring at Haru from a distance as he looked at you nervously.

“(H/N), I was wondering if you were busy this weekend?” Haru asked, rubbing the nape of his neck as he began to sweat apprehensively. 

You looked up as you were writing, tapping the ballpoint pen against your chin as you began to think. “Hm, I’m pretty sure I have Saturday off and I’ve got nothing to do. Why’d you ask?”

Haru let out an anxious laugh. “Oh, you know, I was wondering if you wanted to go out--”

“She’s going out with me,” Bakugou butted in, leaning down on the counter in front of Haru’s desk, a frown printed on his lips. 

“I am?” You asked in confusion in unison with Haru’s, “She is?”

“You’re gonna have to try another day ‘cause she’s all mine Saturday,” Bakugou grumbled, loud enough for you and Haru to hear. He pushed open the glass doors in aggravation, mumbling incoherently under his breath as he left. 

You stood stunned as you watched his figure become smaller and smaller. Haru snapped you away from your thoughts, whispering, “So are you really going out with Ground Zero?”

“Hm?” You turned your head to face him, smiling widely. Seeing as his social skills were pretty low to begin with, you were intrigued with the thought of spending time with Bakugou outside of the work setting. “Yeah, it sounds fun! It’s not everyday I get to go out with Bakugou instead of Ground Zero!”

***

Bakugou never knew the day would actually come where he would be able to take you out. Despite being the proud man he was for everything hero related, he was hesitant to approach you with the intention of taking you out. And now the time had arrived where Bakugou, in his own unique way, managed to ask you out. 

However, Bakugou had no idea where to start planning a first date. His friends, specifically Kaminari, Kirishima, and Sero gave him different ideas, ultimately not being helpful at all for Bakugou. In the end, he decided to make his own plan, no matter how shitty it may end up being. The most difficult part about all this was that Bakugou didn’t really know much about you, having to rely on the help of Mina as she was a woman herself and had the most insight out of his friends. With her help, Bakugou based his planning on Mina’s interests.

Bakugou started off the date with dinner at a restaurant, a recommendation made by Mina herself. However, to Bakugou’s disappointment, the food was probably one of the worst things you’ve ever consumed in your life. Despite this, you didn’t want to be rude or make Bakugou upset by addressing the awful food. Bakugou knew you were just trying to be nice and nevertheless, he didn’t want this to ruin your evening. He strived to redeem himself with the rest of the night.

“What movie are we watching again?” You asked as Bakugou handed you your ticket.

“Some rom-com. I wasn’t sure about which movie you would wanna watch so I guessed and chose one.” Bakugou shrugged. In actuality, Mina had been talking nonstop about this movie and had begged Bakugou to show you it, guaranteeing that you would love it. He didn’t want to admit that he had Mina help him out to plan this date since he had no idea what to do.

You and Bakugou gave in your tickets and went into the theater you were instructed to enter. As you chose and sat in your seats, the screen began changing to the title sequence of the movie.

As the movie continued into the last quarter, Bakugou couldn’t help but feel bored out of his mind. Everything about the movie was awful: the cinematography, the directing, the acting… it was simply a shitshow. Finally, the movie had come to an end and so was Bakugou’s misery as he forced himself to sit and watch the movie in its entirety instead of running out and hiding in the bathroom. The two of you got up, making your way out of the theater.

“How was it?” Bakugou asked, throwing out the empty bucket of popcorn.

If possible, you actually hated the movie more than Bakugou did. But similarly to the dinner, you didn’t want to hurt his feelings, especially since he planned out this whole evening. “It was… good.”

Bakugou sighed. He knew that you were just trying to spare his feelings but he didn’t want to call you out either. The one time he actually plans something like this out and it completely blew up in his face. You smiled sympathetically at him, throwing your empty buckets of popcorn out as you exited the theater. It was evident that Bakugou, who was quite obviously talented in other areas, was lacking experience in planning an amazing night out for a date.

As if the night couldn’t get any worse, the minute the two of you stepped outside, you heard numerous screams from a few blocks down. Low and behold, a giant rock-type villain was attempting to rob a bank and even had hostages in both of his hands.

“We can never just get a fucking day off,” Bakugou muttered. 

You chuckled and the two of you began making your way towards the site, running in the direction of the chaos without a second thought. You threw your shoes off to the side, cursing at yourself mentally for deciding on wearing a skirt and heels. But you couldn’t help yourself; you wanted Bakugou to see you on a day that you weren’t a sweaty mess. To your misfortune, it seemed that your perfectly pinned hair and makeup would be ruined within a few minutes.

Bakugou didn’t hesitate to maneuver himself towards the villain using his quirk for mobility and sending a blast to his face. The villain screamed, letting go of the hostages as he began wailing and covering his eyes. You jumped up and caught both hostages, safely setting them down to the ground.

They looked up at you in awe, two teenage girls who had met their first pro hero. “Thank you, (H/N)!”

“Don’t mention it! Now get back before you get hurt!” You called out as you maneuvered your body upwards using your quirk.

“Get behind him!” Bakugou yelled towards you. You nodded and moved to the villain’s blindspot, Bakugou following suit. The two of you sent blasts at his neck, causing him to fall onto his face with a thud. You held down one of his arms and Bakugou held the other, waiting for the police to arrive. The small crowd that was watching in awe began to cheer and clap, all of them getting excited to have gotten the chance to see the top two heroes in action. Truth be told, after spending numerous missions with him, you began to understand Bakugou’s fighting style and incorporated your own moves to suit his as well and he did the same, too. Alone, you were both strong in your own ways and can manage yourselves efficiently. But together, you were a force to be reckoned with.

Finally the cops showed up, piling out of the cars and taking the villain into custody. They thanked you and Bakugou repeatedly and you returned their thanks while Bakugou watched as they took care of the villain. You waved at the crowd as Bakugou started walking in the opposite direction of the crowd, patiently waiting for you to follow. You caught up with him, letting out a sigh once you were away from the commotion.

“It’s too bad tonight didn’t go like we wanted,” you said, frowning at the state of your now tattered clothes. You could already feel your makeup being smudged and your hair tousled, not bothering to fix it now. The pain in the soles of your feet only increasing with every step you took with your bare feet. You could even feel bits of gravel stabbing at your heels.

Bakugou paid no attention to his own attire, taking off his button down due to the various rips and tears and sticking to his black tank top underneath his clothes. “Even if that villain didn’t show up, tonight was still a fucking shitshow.”

He glanced down at your bare feet and bent over to remove his own sneakers. You shook your head. “No it wasn’t! I mean the food could’ve been better and the movie wasn’t as good as we expected but I still had a great time!” 

Finally taking notice of his removing his shoes, you rose a curious brow at him. “What’re you doing?”

Bakugou scoffed, shoving his sneakers into your hands and started making his way towards your apartment where he had picked you up from when the night started. “You think you can walk home fucking barefoot?”

You let out a small smile, thanking him as you bent over to slip his shoes on. Although they were obviously large and difficult to walk in, it was better than walking without any material protecting your feet. You caught up to him as Bakugou shoved his hands into his pockets. “Plus you don’t have to spare my feelings. There’s no point in lying, I know that tonight was a fucking mess.”

You looked towards him as he had his signature frown etched onto his face. “It doesn’t matter what we do. I always have a great time when I’m with you, Bakugou.”

Bakugou felt a tug in his chest as he glanced over at you, looking away immediately once making contact with your (E/C) eyes. You laughed at his reaction, taking notice to the slight pink tinting of his cheeks. “It’s still weird for me to not call you ‘Ground Zero.’ I mean, you’re still my boss technically.”

“We’re co-workers, I’m not your boss,” Bakugou insisted. “It’d be weird for a boss to be going out with his employee.”

“Either way, it’s odd, but just because we’re heroes doesn’t mean we can’t be friendly.” You glanced over in his direction, watching as he continued to trudge down the path towards your apartment. He could feel your eyes on him, not wanting to acknowledge them as he felt himself grow nervous under your intense gaze. “Speaking of, why did you become a hero?”

“Simple,” Bakugou started, “I wanted to become the best, the indisputable best.” He glanced over to you, smirking. “And I’m gonna keep it that way.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “We’ll see about that.”

“And you?”

“Why I wanted to become a hero?” You reiterated, Bakugou nodding as the two of you turned the corner. “I’ve never really told anyone this but to make it straightforward, my sister was hurt in an altercation with a villain when we were kids. She wasn’t hurt too bad but she was hospitalized for a few weeks. Ever since then, I’ve vowed to save as many people as I can, sort of like I’m trying to compensate for not being able to save her all those years ago.”

Bakugou glimpsed at you, his attraction towards you only increasing with this new found information. Although his desire for becoming a hero seemed subpar compared to yours, he admired you even more than he already did for taking a situation that wasn’t even your fault and turning it into your driving force for your profession.

“And now you’ve saved more people than any other hero,” Bakugou said.

You shrugged. “I’m trying to at least.” 

The conversation took a turn as you continued to talk about your personal lives, getting to know Bakugou in a different light. It was odd to see him talk about himself in a manner that wasn’t related to heroism. You had grown accustomed to hearing the various news stories about the brash number one hero that wasn’t as kind-hearted or catered for the crowds like All Might or other previous pro heroes but you never really cared for that. Being a pro hero wasn’t about one’s ability to present themselves in an attempt for the general public or media to like them but to use their quirks to help and protect as many people as they can. And Bakugou has done just that, protecting and saving people left and right without looking for any critical acclaim from anyone. 

He really was the indisputable best. 

The walk to your apartment finally came to a close as you stood in front of your complex, turning to face Bakugou. “I know you think that today was shitty but I don’t think it was at all. And I mean that.”

Bakugou scoffed. “Whatever. You can say that shit all you want, but I know how today went.”

You chuckled, shaking your head at his stubbornness. “I just liked getting to know more about Bakugou. Ground Zero’s cool and all but Bakugou’s pretty interesting if you ask me.”

You slipped his sneakers off, raising them up in front of them. “Thank you for these. I know most people say that you’re an asshole or they say all this crap about you being inconsiderate but I think tonight showed me that you’re actually a sweet guy. I think I’m liking Bakugou Katsuki more and more.”

Bakugou felt his face heat up, looking off to the side in an attempt to not let you acknowledge his blushing as he took his shoes from you. “Shut up, don’t say dumb shit like that.” He turned around, feeling like he would explode if he saw you for more moments than he already had. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You laughed again, waving as he knelt down and slipped his shoes back on and began to walk away from the building. You couldn’t help but watch on as his figure grew smaller and smaller, finally deciding to go inside once he turned the corner. A sigh you didn’t know you were holding in escaped your lips, your feet aching from the momentary period of time spent running after the villain barefoot. Ignoring the pain, you made your way to the bathroom, frowning at the sight of your physical appearance. Just as you predicted, your hair and makeup were a mess, streaks of black blotting around your eyes and locks of hair knotted together as your neatly pinned hair had fallen apart. Your clothes that you had spent so much time figuring out were a tattered mess and you felt slightly embarrassed for a moment for looking like this in front of Bakugou. But that embarrassment dissipated as quickly as it came as you knew Bakugou has probably seen you looking like a sweaty mess more than he has seen your appearance on your best day.

You removed your makeup with a wipe and let your hair loose, the locks cascading down your shoulders. Just as you changed out of your clothes into something more comfortable, the sound on rain droplets pelting your windows echoed from the outside. Within a few minutes a downpour hit the city and you sighed, thankful that you had gotten inside before getting caught in the mess outside.

That was when you realized that Bakugou was still outside, on his way to his own house. He was also most likely getting drenched. Without thinking twice, you grabbed two umbrellas and ran out in an attempt to spare Bakugou from the harsh weather.

***

Bakugou’s phone began to buzz in his pocket, groaning incoherently as he saw Mina’s name on the screen requesting for a video call. He answered it begrudgingly, Mina, Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari’s faces popping up on the screen.

“Well if it isn’t the romance master himself,” Kaminari teased.

Bakugou rolled his eyes at him. “If you idiots are here to just fucking make fun of me, I’m gonna hang up.”

“No!” Mina called out. “I just wanted to know how it went. Did my suggestions help?”

“No they fucking backfired on me,” Bakugou huffed. “The food tasted like fucking cardboard, the movie was the shittiest thing I’ve ever seen, and to top it all off, a villain popped up outta nowhere and fucked everything up even more. I just walked her home and now I’m going home.”

Mina frowned. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out well, I really tried hard to help you out!”

Kirishima patted her shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not your fault, and Bakugou and (H/N) just don’t have the same tastes as you do. But cheer up, man, I’m sure she had a good time.”

“Yeah, (H/N) seems like a chill girl,” Sero added.

“Whatever,” Bakugou let out a sigh, “I’m just glad it’s over. I didn’t wanna embarrass myself more than I already did.”

His friends said goodbye, trying their best to cheer him up before he hung up and shoved his phone back into his pockets. Bakugou felt defeated, not knowing how to rightfully come across with his feelings without being too direct. You were the only person he’d ever met that caught his attention immediately after the first encounter. Since the beginning, he found himself wanting to spend more time with you but after spending time with you outside of work, he was afraid that you wouldn’t want to be around him after the failure of a first date. Despite hearing you say how much you enjoy being around him and how you didn’t care what it was you were doing with him, Bakugou couldn’t help but feel as if you were only saying those things to make him feel better. He felt like he failed you.

Before Bakugou could even think about other ways the night could get worse, a drop of water pelted his nose. He looked up at the gray sky, the clouds rumbling as the water droplets increased in size, speed, and amount as it started pouring. This is just fucking great…

Bakugou didn’t bother running or seeking shelter as he was drenched in a matter of minutes. He was only a few blocks from his house and just as he was about to turn the corner again, Bakugou stopped at the sound of his name being called. He spun around, bewildered at the sight of you running towards him with an umbrella over your head and another opened in your other hand. 

Once you caught up to him, you raised one of the umbrellas over his head, breathing heavily to attempt to catch your breath.

“(H/N)…” Bakugou muttered, still in shock to see you again so soon. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I saw that it started pouring and I just thought about how you didn’t have an umbrella so…” Your voice drifted off, gesturing to the umbrella.

“You didn’t have to…” Bakugou mumbled and you laughed.

“I came because I wanted to. And because I wanted to tell you again that I really did enjoy tonight.” You smiled. “Knowing you, you’re probably beating yourself up over dinner, the movie, and not to mention that villain showing up, but I don’t care what we do. I like being with you, no matter where we are.”

Bakugou felt his heart beating out of his chest as he stared at you. He brought his hand up to grab the umbrella from your hand, his own fingers curling around yours and around the stem of the umbrella. You gasped inwardly at the sudden contact, your own heart palpitating vigorously. 

In the darkness of the night sky and the droplets pouring down from the gray clouds, Bakugou’s crimson eyes shined against the dullness of your surroundings as they pierced right through you. “Listen up ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once.”

Bakugou’s fingers gripped yours as he took a deep breath. “I like you, (F/N).”

Your eyes widened as Bakugou muttered your name through his lips. It was the first time he had addressed you by anything other than your hero name, let alone your first name. You smiled gently. “I like you too, Katsuki.”

Your lips parted as you began to speak, talking about how much you admired him and his ambitious ways. But Bakugou couldn’t hear a word, just watching your lips moving. Despite the bleakness of the weather, your skin was practically glowing, the same aura radiating off of you like it always had. Your locks were slightly wet from the rain as they hung against your shoulders. But your lips, red and plump, were the only thing Bakugou could focus on.

“Shut up, would ya?” Bakugou murmured. You were taken aback, staring up at Bakugou as he sighed once more and abruptly said, “I wanna kiss you.” 

You were puzzled, wanting to ask why until you sucked in a breath as his warm lips planted themselves on yours. The umbrella hovering over your head fell to the floor with a thud along with the umbrella in Bakugou’s hand. The rain pelted both of you, drenching you within seconds but neither of you paid any mind to it. Bakugou’s warm lips compensated for the coldness in the air and he snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your hands held fistfuls of his tank, being completely drawn into his touch. 

Bakugou pulled away, a blush tinting his cheeks as he looked down at you, your own face heating up from the aftermath of the kiss. You giggled, brushing away some blonde hairs that were stuck to his forehead. “You know I brought two umbrellas for a reason, right?”

Bakugou smirked, picking one up and holding it over your head. You smiled, grabbing the other umbrella and closing it, wanting to be close to Bakugou huddled under one umbrella rather than two. Although the night hadn’t gone to plan and wasn’t what Bakugou or what you were expecting, it was safe to say that both of you left that night feeling more satisfied than you could’ve ever been.

[dystovian]

The Last of Us: How to Disappear Completely

Chapter 3: Burrow

Summary: The aftermath of death is never nice, especially with the end of the world. You felt you knew how to deal with it, and that’s by moving on as quick as possible. Sawyer, takes this personally, and lets you have a piece of their mind.

Pairing: Joel/Reader, Joel x Reader (Future)

Warning(s): Language, Talks about Death and Suicide, Arguing, Injuries.

A/N: ok one more chapter i think and joel comes into play! thank u for reading!!

Tags: @hrk-fic-recs

Often, before your sister had disappeared, you wouldn’t really bother thinking about the past. You had your future right in front of you, because for all you knew, you and her would be just fine. But, the second you realized she wouldn’t return, and was likely rotting in some field or some building, or running around Infected...it’s all you could think about.

You’d think about the way you grimaced at melted red popsicles and how they stuck to your fingers, coating your skin with red juice. You’d think about how you’d fallen off your bike, not wearing any knee guards and crying out in the street due to the skin on your kneecaps peeling away. You’d mostly think about luxuries, stuff you’d never experience again. Stuff that were so far away from this life, that had left a mark on you.

Something that never left, though? Was grief. Grief followed every living thing with a heartbeat and snuck up on it every chance it got. Grabbed you by the roots of your hair and tossed you to the ground. Grief, which seemed to have a festival just about every second of every day now, with the way things fell apart. Exploding into millions of sparks just like the fireworks on the beach that day.

This was evident now, what with the way the young teenager in the room across from you hasn’t stopped crying, even within their sleep their tears are evident, dripping over their nose and onto the sheets. Evident, shown in the way your shoulders shook violently as the body of a young girl whom you just saw yesterday lay behind you.

In the past, grief was more of a long time thing. Where you could sit in your room and cry all day after your cat had died. But now — with the world gone to shit — it’s different. Someone dies, you cry for a minute, maybe even not at all, then you suck it up. You get the fuck over it, and you move the hell on. Do what they couldn’t, survive, live for them.

Except, you haven’t. You’ve barely even bothered. Sometimes, though, you get this burst of energy. Telling you to go out on a run, get some supplies to help live just a little longer. But you can’t leave Sawyer, not when they’ve barely even spoken, and the last time they did, they made it quite clear of their feelings. Of the state of their mind since the loss of their sister.

“You’ve barely eaten your dinner, y’know.” You had said one night, windows covered with thick wool blankets, and candles lit along the house.

“Mhm.” They muttered, slumped in their chair, eyes staring at the food on their plate.

“Please...you’ve got to eat, Soy. It’ll kill you.” You said, placing your utensils on the wood, leaning forward.

���Awesome.” They scoffed, almost sliding the plate into your lap with the force of their hand.

“Seriously? Are you..” You’d paused in disbelief, “Are you seriously just gonna let yourself fucking starve to death? Sawyer, you need to listen to me. We’re gonna need more food soon, and if I’m going alone, you need to be fit enough to keep watch on this place. Oka-“ You stopped when Sawyer abruptly stood, hands clenched into fists on the wood of the dining room table, head hanging.

“You wanna go? Then fuckin’ go! I don’t give a shit if you leave me here and I certainly don’t care if Infected tear me to goddamn shreds.” They said, tears piling up upon their eyelids.

“You, you do not mean that,” You were standing now, chair almost falling with the force of your movement. Your eyes were wide, with eyebrows raised, shock filing through you.

“Oh, I meant every damn bit of that sentence.” They scoffed.

“Take it back.”

“I ain’t takin’ back sh-“ Their finger goes to point at you, and the second they do, it’s slapped away.

“Take it the fuck back! You listen to me, and you listen to me good. I am not, and I mean absolutely not, going to feel responsible for somebody else dying. I am sick and fucking tired of death, and I know for damn sure you are too. Hell, every last person is! But, and I hate to say this shit you, but you need to move on. You and I both know that’s what Ryan would want. So, take. It. The. Fuck. Back.” You were angry, of course you were. You loved the two of them, they were family to you, and with one of them gone you knew you couldn’t live after you lost the other.

“Well, have you ever stopped to think about what I fucking want? Ryan is dead! Ryan doesn’t have wants or needs or...or anything! I want to die! I don’t want to live anymore. Get that through your thick skull. And, for the love of all that’s ever been holy, quit actin’ like you knew us. You don’t, and won’t, know shit. You didn’t raise us, and you weren’t there when everything went to shit. We’re not your fuckin’ children. And we sure as shit ain’t your sister!” By the time they let it all out, you had sat back down and had taken the blow.

“That’s how it is, then? Hm?”

“Yeah. And quit telling me what I’m ‘supposed’ to do. I’ll move on when I damn well please, and you know what? Fuck you. You already movin’ on after we just pieced my sister back together and buried her in the backyard. The backyard, of some house, that we only knew for a year! She should’ve died old, with a family, or something! She...she should’ve died normally. Old age, or a stroke, or a fuckin’ heart attack...I don’t know! But instead, she got eaten alive, and blew her brains out before she could become one of those things! So don’t talk to me about moving on, when we both know there’s no moving on from that.” They were in front of you now, tears streaming over the red of their cheeks, face hot from anger.

Since then, you’ve barely spoken to the other. Choosing to stay quiet during dinner, which began happening less and less with your shortage of food. You finally came to Sawyer one day, and told them that you couldn’t stay here any longer. That the streets have more and more Infected every week, and the whole town is empty of food.

They agreed, nodding their head in silent agreement, eyes drawn away from your own.

2 0 2 5.

Illinois.

Ryan’s name hasn’t left either of your mouths. Not during dinner, not even in passing. Not even in your sleep, did either of you cry out her name and sob afterwards.

After everything that happened, you left the house. The room she died in was loud, almost frighteningly so, and filled with the phantom screams of her last moments. Something, that both you and her sister, couldn’t quite stand beside anymore. So, you left. Walked and walked and walked, barely talking to the other at first. And sure as hell keeping her name out of your mouth.

You didn’t say her name again until a group took you in, asked you about your past, and you delivered. Spilled your hearts content onto the plastic table in front of you, until you broke down, and the lovely couple in front of you — Alex and his wife, Amy — stopped you, rubbing their hands on your back.

Although you’ve been through hell and back these last six years, Ryan always lingered. You’d see her in the corpses that littered streets and the homes you’d spend a few nights in. See her in the way Sawyer carried themself, or spoke, or cried.

You didn’t forgive eachother, you rarely talked of that argument in the dining room that night. You simply opted to get the hell over it, if you don’t talk about it then I guess it just didn’t happen. And now, being taken in by this group that call themselves the Burrowers, the conversation is begging to be had.

Sawyer didn’t stay with you long, you shared a home for four days before they left, got their own place. And you haven’t seen them since.

[elizabeethan]

The Days We Defend (Will Turn To Gold)- Chapter 3

Everything is perfect, until it isn’t. Killian and Emma have spent months building a life together after finally defeating Neal and Gold, but when the Dark One dies and his power becomes untethered, everyone in Storybrooke is at risk, and some decisions may have lasting consequences.

Sequel to Walk With Me (I Think We’ll Find A Way)

Prologue, 1, 2

Read on Ao3

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @profdanglaisstuff @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook​

Belle is overwhelmed with responsibilities, both as newfound official owner of the shop, and with settling the Crocodile’s assets. They weren’t even bound together by law, but for whatever reason, she felt compelled to take care of these things.

“I suppose we should bury him,” she says over her coffee mug as she pours over pages of financial documents at Killian and Emma’s dining table.

Killian shrugs. “I suppose that’s a good way to prevent any foul odors,” he agrees, and she gives him a look that tells him he may have said the wrong thing. “And… of course, it’s the respectful thing to do.”

“Of course,” she says through a laugh and rolls her eyes. “I mean, I probably should've taken care of this already. It’s been a week since he passed, I just… it’s been strange.”

“I understand, love. You weren’t together but you still had feelings towards him. And as big a bastard as he was, he did love you.”

She presses her mouth together thoughtfully, nodding as she looks back down at her pages and takes another sip from her mug and he finishes up the dishes from their lunch. It’s perhaps the first time that he’s realized what this means: his enemy is dead. His life’s mission is complete.

He has a feeling that, were this to happen three years ago, he would have felt lost. He’s lived an unnaturally long life with one goal in mind, and with that goal met, he’s unsure what else he may have had to live for. Now, he has everything he needs.

It isn’t long before he hears the bounding steps of his toddler stomping down the stairs, one step at a time, and a nervous Emma behind her reminding her to be cautious.

During the last week, he’s noticed a new trend: Emma is constantly anxious about Corrine’s safety. She’s far more nervous about her being hurt while exploring her environment and learning new skills, and is always helicoptering over the child, hardly taking an eye off of her. It isn’t that he suspects that she distrusts him, but he’s certainly noticed that she almost never leaves their daughter alone, not even with her father.

“Hello my little love,” Killian says as she reaches the landing.

“Hi Captain,” she says, her tiny voice pronouncing her new word without a T.

“Who the blazes is teaching you these terms, my dear?” he asks, picking her up once his hand is dry and placing a kiss on her forehead.

“No know,” she responds with a shrug, although he doubts that to be true. One can only trust a two-year-old as far as one can throw them, especially when that child’s father is Captain Hook, and he’s nearly completely certain that she does know that Prince Charming is trying to mess with him.

“You’re far too smart for your own good, sweetheart.”

“Thank.”

Emma smiles softly as she rounds the corner, placing a hand on their daughter’s back and glancing up at Killian before moving towards the refrigerator.

“What would you like for lunch, smarty pants?” Emma asks Corrine, and she shrugs.

“Cheese,” she tells her mother, smiling a toothy grin at Killian and then poking his nose with her chubby finger.

“A grilled cheese? For Emma Swan’s daughter? Preposterous.”

Emma laughs, barely, and bumps his shoulder with her own, moving throughout the kitchen to get started on cooking as Killian continues to entertain the lass.

“Corrine, did you say hello to Belle?” Killian asks, and she turns in his arms and smiles sweetly.

“Hi.”

“Hello there,” Belle says with a smile, standing and gathering her files. “I actually think I should be going. I’ve got to make the arrangements for the burial.”

“Aye, lass.”

“Would you guys, um, are you planning on coming?”

Emma drops something behind him with a clatter, then lets out a hissed curse. When he turns, he sees her shoving a frying pan to the back of the stove and forcing the burner into the off position, holding her hand in front of her.

“Uh,” he says, placing Corrine down and moving towards Emma. “I’ll let you know,” he tells Belle as she makes her way out the door to leave.

“Momma’s okay?” Corrine asks, toddling over towards her.

“I’m fine,” she mumbles back, looking down and plastering on a fake smile. “Baby, go play in the living room while I make your lunch, okay?”

Corrine runs clumsily towards her small chest, opening it up and exclaiming excitedly when she sees some of her favorite stuffed toys. “Emma,” Killian finally says, moving in front of her and taking her burned hand.

“I’m fine,” she spits out, yanking her hand back and reaching for the pan again, replacing it on the burner and moving towards the refrigerator.

“You’re clearly not.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Did you forget the conversation we had last week? I told you I’m here for you, love. You don’t have to bear—”

“Hook, I’m fine! Just leave it, would you?”

She hadn’t called him that since the curse was broken, but lately it’s been slipping from her lips far more frequently than he prefers. “Don't do that, Swan. Don’t put your walls back up; don’t shut me out.”

“I”m not.”

“You are. You’re scared about what’s going to happen with Regina and you’re trying to protect yourself, but in doing so, you’re closing yourself off from me.” She refuses to look him in the eye as she lets a pat of butter slide into the pan and tilts it so that it melts across the surface. “You’re doing it now.”

“What do you want me to say?” she mumbles as she places a slice of bread in the pan.

He takes her hand once she places a slice of cheese over the bread and covers it with another, pulling her away and forcing her to turn and face him. “You don't have to say anything. Just… I just want you to trust me like I trust you.”

She sighs, wriggling out of his hold and grabbing for a tool that she uses to flip the sandwich over. “Of course I trust you,” she says softly as he hands her Corrine’s plastic plate. She slides the hot sandwich onto it, slices it down the middle, and hands it back to him, turning away once again and taking the pan towards the sink.

He stands there expectantly, foolishly, for a moment before turning and walking towards the table, calling for Corrine as he places the plate in front of her chair. “Come, love,” he calls, and he hears her tumbling towards him. He hoists her into her chair and kisses the top of her head as she starts munching away.

Emma holds her burnt hand out of the running stream of water as she washes the pan vigorously. She isn’t one for cleaning, well, anything, so to see her so passionately doing so is throwing him for a loop.

Rather than trying to talk any more sense into her, he walks up behind her, resting his prosthetic on her hip and taking the pan from her hand to place it down in the sink so that he can hold her. He feels tension leaving her quickly as she settles her back against his chest before turning around and wrapping her arms around his middle, sighing.

He holds her tight, attempting to squeeze the anxiety and fear out of her but knowing it likely isn’t going to work like that. Instead he settles for telling her, “I’m here, love, always. We’ll get through this, I swear it.”

He hopes beyond hope that he’s being truthful to her.

~~~~

Later that night, when Corrine is safely tucked into her crib only after David helped Emma to lower the platform in an attempt to prevent her from escaping, Emma and Killian sit quietly on the loveseat as Henry takes up the entire couch. They had a film on, and although Killian finds them difficult to follow, he guesses that Henry is having a far worse time focusing  based on the way he stares off at the ceiling for almost the entire picture. Eventually, he sits back up, his spine so straight that it looks uncomfortable, and announces, “I don’t wanna see my mom.”

Emma straightens too. “I know that, Henry. I told you I’m not gonna make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

“I know she’s been asking for me.”

Emma squeezes Killian’s hand but won’t turn his way. He sighs and steps in. “Aye, lad, she has. But your mother has been very clear that that won't happen.”

“Hook’s right,” she says. “We aren't letting anything happen to you. You're old enough to make your own decisions about this stuff.”

The lad sighs, relaxing back into the couch a bit before speaking up again. “I feel bad, though. If she’s saying she wants to see me, maybe that would help her to fight the darkness.”

“Well, maybe that’s true, but it’s okay for you to set your own limits. Isn’t that what Dr. Hopper used to say?”

“Yeah. It’s just… why would she do this?” he asks softly, staring down at his hands resting on his knees. “Why would she let herself go back to being dark, after everything that happened when I was a kid?”

“The darkness came to her, Henry. She didn’t really have that much control over it,” Emma says, trailing off weakly at the end of her statement. He knows she’s blaming herself now for the position that Regina is in, and for Henry’s emotional turmoil.

“She’s gonna do something stupid. And dangerous.”

“Henry…”

“Mom, she did some really terrible stuff when she was the Evil Queen, and now she’s gone dark again. How can I trust that she won't try to hurt you like she did last time? Or me or Corrine?”

He feels her tense some more. “Kid, you shouldn’t have to worry about that.”

“But I do! It’s all I can think about!”

“We’re gonna take care of this! I told you that you don’t have to see her and I meant it. Nothing is gonna happen to you,” she tells him urgently, standing from the couch so quickly that Killian starts to tip over.

“But what about you? And everyone else I care about?”

“I’m gonna fix this,” she promises, her voice cracking. She moves towards Henry and pulls him into a tight hug which he returns in kind, the two of them standing still in the middle of the living room and seemingly blocking out the rest of the world.

Killian feels so helpless.

~~~~

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Swan,” he starts, moving towards the bed that she sits on heavily.

“If you tell me everything's gonna be okay, I think I’ll scream.”

He stops in his tracks, sighing as she flops backwards until her back hits the mattress and groans.

“Emma.”

“Hook, I can’t have this fight with you again!” she nearly shouts, thrusting her fingers into her hair.

“Who said we were fighting?”

She rolls over onto her stomach and presses herself up so that she’s sitting on her knees, staring him down with angry eyes. “You're going to tell me that this isn’t my fault and that we’ll get through this,” she says, irritation clear in her voice.

He steps towards the bed, standing closer to her and narrowing his eyes. “Suppose I am. Suppose I mean it.”

“It doesn’t help!” she says. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t just sit around doing nothing while we wait for something to go wrong.”

“Swan, you're not doing nothing.”

“Why do you keep saying that?!”

“Why are you so upset with me?”

“I’m not!”

“Clearly you—” he’s interrupted. Her hands are around his neck and her mouth is on his with a forceful pressure that nearly knocks him off his feet. “Swan,” he tries, but she continues her attack on his lips.

“Stop talking,” she mumbles against him. “I don't want to hear anymore.”

“What do you want?”

She slows her movements of her lips along his only slightly, as if she’s considering his question, and in her pause, he leans them forward so that she falls back onto the mattress with him on top of them. She grunts, biting his lip fiercely in an angry response, and before he can steady himself on top of her, she’s pushing his shoulders and flipping them.

“You,” she growls at him before kissing him again. “I want to fuck you.”

Her words shoot through him as quickly as his blood does, coursing through his body in an icy heat. His hand finds her hip immediately, squeezing before he slaps her ass covered by her tight leggings. “You want it rough, love?”

“Yes,” she answers immediately.

“Well,” he murmurs as her mouth trails down his stubble covered chin and finds the juncture of his neck, sucking what he knows will become a bruise. “I’m happy to oblige.”

He knows what this is. He knows she’s seeking out control where she can and while she has so little of it. He normally takes the reins and revels in his ability to make her fall apart, so tonight, he’ll sit back and enjoy as she flips the script.

She’s quick in her work of undoing the buttons of his top, ripping it open forcefully and fully exposing his chest so that she can slide her lips down the expanse of flesh. She sucks another bruise into the skin just beside his nipple as her hands make quick work of the zip of his trousers. She pulls them down promptly once they’re undone, continuing the wet trail that her mouth leaves down his torso until she’s blowing hot breath against the fabric of his boxers just above his already-hard cock. She slides onto her knees on the floor before him, pulling the garment away, and takes him in her mouth almost immediately, never breaking eye from his. It’s perhaps the longest their eyes have maintained contact all week.

She sucks him expertly, swirling her tongue as her cheeks hollow and taking him down nearly to the base. He groans at her enthusiasm and she hums in response, the back of her throat vibrating against his throbbing tip. “Fuck, Emma,” he says, pulling at her hair lightly and iliciting a moan from her. He nearly loses himself at her response. “Come here, love.”

She hums again to question him, looking up as her tongue trails a thick line up his shaft and she sucks his tip once more. “Where?”

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to finish, and I won’t be able to fuck you.”

Releasing him with a pop, she presses herself up from her knees and begins to slide her leggings and knickers down her shapely legs. “Didn’t you hear what I said?” she asks as she pulls her top above her head and moves back towards him. She’s straddling his hips, his erection trapped between his stomach and her core, and the heat of her against him driving his mad. “I’m fucking you.”

“Bloody hell,” he breathes out as she grasps him and tucks him inside her. She moans, her hands sliding up his chest and taking his hand to place it on her breast still covered by her bra. He moves the fabric away as best he can through the distraction of having her around him, but he must be moving too slowly because she reaches around her back and unhooks it herself. As he squeezes again and runs his thumb along her nipple, she moans, tossing her head back so that her long hair almost tickles the tops of his thighs.

She rides him mercilessly, bouncing and and thrusting hard against him as she takes what she needs from him. He hopes it helps her; he could see her fear all week, her lack of control driving her to a state he hasn’t seen her in in quite some time. Her walls are coming back up, and watching it happen before him and being unable to prevent it hurts more than he knows what to do with.

“Fuck,” Emma says, reaching her hand to rub tight circles along her clit as she continues to squeeze him. “God, yes.”

“That’s it, darling. Take what you need from me,” he chokes out. He’s hardly even coherent, barely holding himself together as he prays for her quick release after the work she has put in on him moments ago. “I’m here, love, take what you need.”

“I need you,” she whimpers. Her voice is high and breathy as she collapses against him, one hand still trapped between them on her clit and the other wrapping around his neck. “I need,” she breathes, following it with nothing.

He chooses now to bend his knees and thrust his hips up into her finally, feeling her squeeze her arm harder around his neck and her core tighter against his cock. He groans into her neck, holding her hips so she can continue to move above him as he meets her with each thrust. “That’s so good, love, you feel so perfect. Such a good job for me, that’s it.”

“Killian,” she chokes out. “I— I lo—”

He thinks for sure that she’ll say it— he would’ve loved to hear it— but instead, she squeezes once more, choking out a cry that tells him she’s cascading off the cliff they worked towards together. As soon as she gives him permission through her own orgasm, he’s spilling himself inside her. She lets out a keening whimper as she comes down, her lips biting and kissing against his neck as she collapses.

He turns his head towards her’s, kissing her forehead and rubbing his bare arm up and down along her back as she comes back down. He hasn’t been with her with her walls this high since Neverland, and he isn’t sure how she’ll react to his attempts to hold her after such animalistic sex, but he chances it.

After he rolls them onto their sides, she holds on tightly to him but won’t move her head from its spot under his chin. He feels her shallow breaths hitting the skin of his collarbone, tickling the hairs gently as he runs his fingers along her spine. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispers, and he feels his heart squeezing painfully in his chest.

He pulls her impossibly closer to him and responds, “there isn’t anything wrong with you, my love,” and kisses the crown of her head once more.

“I don’t know why I can’t just…” she shrugs.

He thinks— he hopes— he knows what she means. She feels love for him, but can’t say the words and stay for the aftermath. Assuming this is correct, he says, “it’s okay. I love you enough for the both of us.”

He feels her burying her face further into his chest and she tightens her grip on his torso. “I feel it, I do. I just…”

“I know.”

He does know. He only hopes that he doesn’t soon get to a place where that isn’t enough anymore.

~~~~

They meet again at Granny’s in the morning, Ruby and Tink staying with Henry and Corrine despite the lass’s protests. She wants desperately to come with her parents, and her increased clinginess to the both of them worries Killian. He thinks it worries Emma more. Just one more straw that threatens to break the camel’s back that is Emma, he thinks.

Regina can hardly focus. She’s still going back and forth between talking to them as herself and the Dark One, and her quick flip from one personality to another startles them all. Today, she can’t seem to think about anything aside from Henry, and he can feel Emma’s tension from across the diner.

“Regina, we need a real plan.”

“I have a plan! It’s to see my son!”

“We need a plan for getting the darkness out of you. Have you found anything in your books or your vault?”

“Emma, I have to see him,” she pleads. “He’s the only thing that can keep me sane right now. Being the Dark One is so hard… I’m trying so hard not to give in, and he gives me strength to fight it.”

He watches as Emma blinks, sighing and letting her head fall forward at Regina’s words. She’s trying to appeal to Emma’s motherhood, and it isn’t fair. He wants to step in, but they asked to talk privately and he’s trying to respect that.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” Emma says softly. “It’s just not a good idea right now.”

“So Emma Swan finally has something over me and she’s milking it for all it’s worth, is that it?”

“Regina, it isn’t that. You know I want what’s best for Henry.”

“Then why the hell won’t you let him see me? Is it revenge over what happened last year that you want?”

“No!”

“You finally have a say in this and you can’t seem to let go.”

“Regina, Henry doesn’t want to see you,” Emma practically shouts. Killian’s blood runs cold.

“What?” Regina spits, leaning towards Emma threateningly. He stands from his stool at the counter and starts to make his way over to them.

“He’s scared! He spent so much of his life frightened of his mother being the Evil Queen and now he’s scared that you’re going to hurt someone he loves again!”

He places his hand on Emma’s shoulder and feels her tense up in response. Regina stands slowly, leering over Emma and smiling maliciously. “We’ll see.”

“What does that mean…?” Emma asks softly, leaning back against his hand and seemingly taking comfort in his presence.

“Well, Miss Swan, I suppose you’ll see.”

“Regina—”

“Just you wait, Miss Swan. You can’t keep my son from me forever.”

Before Emma can argue, she vanishes.

~~~~

“I need your help.”

“With what?”

“A plan. Don’t think I’ve forgotten your little scheme to get what you wanted last year.”

“So the new Dark One needs help from the old Dark One’s son?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Your plan to make everyone forget and keep your family to yourself was perfect, aside from the fact that it may have taken Henry from me. I need your help to make that happen now.”

“How will you do it?”

“Allow me to show you.”

~~~~

~~~~

Thoughts????? :)

Read Chapter 4

[harrysgoldenline]

Can’t Help but Love Him

Hello everyone! I am SO excited about this because this is my first multi part piece! I really really REALLY hope you like it! Please let me know what you think about part one! :) 

Word Count: 2,822

“Y/N! You look amazing!” Sarah squealed, embracing her friend into a tight hug once she entered their private room, “I’m so glad you made it!” 

The room was fairly full, filed with Harry, the band, family, friends and their dates all here to celebrate the new year, granted a few days late, and the upcoming tour. The group of mismatched people and various celebrities all gathered in a private area in the back of a club with their own private services.

“Thank you!” The girl giggled, hugging her friend back tightly before pulling back, admiring her dress, “So do you, wow! You look great! God, I’m sure Mitch has been drooling all night! Speaking of where is H-“

Y/N interrupts herself with a scream, her feet suddenly being lifted off the ground as a pair of arms going around her waist, quickly spinning her around before carefully setting her on her feet. She looks up to examine the perpetrator, seeing her best friend smirking and standing down at her.

“You made it!” He smiles, pulling her into another hug and she could instantly smell the various alcohols on him, “Wow, I’m so glad you are here! When was the last time we were both in New York together?”

“I could never miss a Styles party, granted I would prefer if Gemma was throwing it instead.” She teased, giggling as his jaw falls, an animated expression of hurt covering his face.

He shakes his head, grabbing her hand and pushing through a crowd of people, “you need a drink, you big meanie.”

Her heart skips a beat, happy he was walking in front of her, making it unable for him to seeing her glowing cheeks, her heart speeding up as she stares down at their finger intertwined then back up at him.

It’s the cliché, typical story where she is in love with her best friend and he doesn’t know. They’ve known each other for a few years, meeting through mutual friends and living similar lives they clicked instantaneously. She always wondered what it would be like to have him, have him as hers, more than just their friends movie nights with longing glances.

Although, at times, she liked things just the way they are. They were so close, she felt like Harry knew everything about her, except for that one tiny little secret of course. She often had to convince herself, ‘sometimes secrets are good’, often repeating this phrase over and over in her head after long nights of laughing, talking and the occasional sleepover.

Secrets are good and some should stay because if he were to find out, everything would be ruined. No more laughs, no more stories and just no more Harry… And Y/N knew that is way worse than being stuck forever as his friend.

“Thank you” Harry nodded to the bartender, handing her go to drink to her without her having to say a word before he takes a sip of his own.

She repeats his words back to him, giving him a small smile before taking a sip, eyes screwing shut at the strong drink, chest burning as it goes down and she looks up after hearing Harry chuckle, seeing him look down at her with a smile,

“Shut up” She groaned, taking another sip and  involuntarily  makes the same face, “It’s really strong!”

“You look cute when you do that” He announced, looking at her for a few beats before grabbing her drink and taking a sip before shrugging, “Few more of these and it’ll taste like water… well I guess one more for you, ya lightweight.”

“Stop! I should find Sarah, she’s nice to me and you-“ She began, stopping herself when a beautiful, tall woman quickly approaches them, grabbing on Harry’s arm.

She stood there and watched, like many times before, Harry embracing a beautiful woman, chatting with her a moment before she drags him away, Harry giving her a quick, “sorry! I’ll find you later!”

Similarly, like many times before, she smiles, waves, stares and walks away trying not to think too much.  Tries not to think about who she is, how they know each other, what they’re talking about, or worse if they’re not talking, what they’re doing.

She lets out a shaky sigh, watching the pair disappear before she downs her drink quickly, setting it on the counter before ordering another, thanking the bartender before walking back and trying to find Sarah.

The somber girl works through the crowd, feeling claustrophobic yet empty going through the crowd of dancing couples, looking for someone to distract how she was currently feeling.

That’s when she spots her friend, a huge smile on her face as Mitch wraps his arms around her waist, pressing kisses onto her cheek as his fingers dig into her waist.    Y/N couldn’t help but admire, her body feeling with adoration at the sight of two people she loves so much being so happy together, she just wishes she had someone too.

She takes a long drink, sitting down in a chair off to the side, trying to ignore the couple that was making out about 20 feet in front of her one the dance floor, but this was the only seat, mostly, off on its own.

“Hi!” A waiter smiles, coming up to her, “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Umm…” She starts, trailing off and her eyes falling to behind him, seeing Harry and the girl from before. Her hand on his knee, leaning in and whispering in his ear, a chuckle falling from his lips, “Yes!” She exclaims quickly, ordering a shot and another strong drink.

The waiter furrows his eyebrows at her, nothing her glossed over eyes focused behind him and he turns, trying to find the cause behind the girls discomfort. He turns back, giving the girl a soft smile and nod, “I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you”

The man nods, offering her a sympathetic smile before getting back to work, leaving her to her lonesome and people watching. She sorta enjoyed sitting off and isolating herself, much rather preferring this than third wheeling with Harry and her… and thankfully mid order they moved away out of eyesight so she can’t ‘accidentally’ look and see them.

Time was moving much faster than Y/N realized, the amount of alcohol in her system hitting her all at once. She pulled out her phone, instantly clicking into her photo album, going to all of the photos of her and Harry.

Her eyes welled up, much thanks to the alcohol in her body as she went through their memories, wishing tonight would be a positive one, but here she is sitting alone while he doing god knows what with that girl that Y/N wish she knew the name of, although she would deny if she looked for any of her social medias.

“Miss?” The voice breaks her out of her trance, looking her phone and letting it fall on her lap and looking up to see the kind waiter standing before her, quickly wiping her eyes before taking the two glasses from him, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He smiles, looking at her slowly, “Are you alright? If you don’t mind me asking, why are you sitting off by yourself?”

She lets out a pitiful chuckle, downing the shot causing him to laugh, watching the girls face scrunch up before taking her other drink as a chase, “I really am fine, just being a bit uhm… dramatic. And I don’t wanna get you in trouble” She slurred, gesturing to his name tag, “…. Uh Mick- Nick... Sorry.”

“I’m done! I came in early and helped with set up so I actually got off 20 minutes ago, but you looked like you could use a drink so I thought you would be a good last customer.” He chuckles, “Would you mind if I joined you? If not, don’t feel bad telling me to fuck off, I totally get wanting to be alone.”

“No, stay!” She smiles, patting a seat next to her, “I could use some company.”

“Sounds good, I’m going to change out of my uniform, get myself some drinks and I’ll be right back, you need anything…?” He asks, smiling back at her.

“Oh, I’m Y/N!” She giggles, “and I s-shouldn’t, this should be my last one.”

He nods, giving her a small wave before turning back on his heel, heading to a staff only door, turning around and looking back at her, Y/N blushing when she sees he caught her staring and she quickly turns away, giggling softly to herself.

Y/N had to admit that Nick was cute, hot even. He was tall, dark and handsome, with nearly black hair and soft, chocolate brown eyes, a sleeve of tattoos covering both arms playing a perfectly going against the stereotype of his appearance of being so considerate and sweet.

Y/N couldn’t help but think that he could be good for her, perfect even. In a room full of celebrities of all kinds, beautiful women, he choose to come and talk to her. Her heart flutter at the thought, the idea of being able to have someone to call her own.

“Y/N! What are you doing by yourself?” Sarah frowned, surprising the girl as her and Mitch appear by her side.

“Where’s Harry?” Mitch added, eyebrows furrowed as he scans the area.

Y/N shrugs her shoulders dramatically taking another sip of her drink, “I don’t- I’m not umm, he I don’t really know.” She slurs, “we were at the bar and then some girl came up to him and then he went and hung out with her but I’m uh, not sure where they went.”

“Oh, I’m sorry honey.” Sarah frowned, squatting down a bit and tucking a piece of her behind her friends ear, “Do you wanna come over and hangout with us?”

“No that’s okay! Nick is coming back and we’re gonna hangout!” Y/N smiles, “thank you though, you’re such a good friend!”

“Thank you, Hun.” Sarah laughed, admiring her drunk best friend, “So are you, but who is Nick?”

“He’s a SUPER cute waiter who is really nice so I’m going to hang out with him! You guys should stay and hangout with us!” Y/N started, “He’s changing out of his uniform and getting some drinks and coming back!“

“Oh, more drinks!” A deep, familiar voice from behind her speaks, her body freezing, “What’s going on guys?”

“We’re just waiting to see this super cute waiter named Nick Y/N met, they’re going to hangout, so we were going to hang out with the two lovebirds.” Mitch smirks, raising his eyebrows at Y/N, the two also being very close due to her relationship with Sarah.

“Oh, mind if we join as well?” Harry asks, forcing Y/N to turn around.

Y/N nods, forcing a smile as she sees the two flawless human beings standing next to each other, her smile growing as she sees Nick coming up behind the two, waving at the girl, which she quickly returns, causing Harry and the girl to turn around and look at him.

“Nick, uhm so my friends found me, so this is everybody and everybody this is Nick.” Y/N laughs, biting her lip nervously and he plops down next to her introducing himself to everyone individually.

Through this, she learned that the girls name is Mallory, most likely a model. She was flawless, not a blemish or imperfection in sight with beautiful raven hair and chocolate eyes, petite yet curvy… A body Y/N had always desired, but of course did not have.

She was pulled back to reality after hearing the group laughing, forcing herself to let out a soft giggle, looking over at Nick laughing him look up at Harry with an entertained look on his face, listening to Harry attentively as he tells a wild story from the last tour, and she couldn’t help but hate him more for being so damn charming, having every single person he has every met wrapped around his finger, especially her.

“Hey,” Nick whispers, leaning into Y/N’s ear, “do you wanna go dance?”

Y/N quickly nods, giggling as he jumps and grabs onto her hands, pulling her up quickly before running off to the dance floor, pulling her into the middle of the dance floor. He pulls her out, before spinning her back into his body, his arm coming tight around her before rocking their bodies together.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as her night started turning around

***

Y/N was sure her head had never hurt more.

She let out a load groan, hardly opening my eyes for a second before pulling the comforter over her head, trying to block out any light that could possibly come through. She let out a grouchy sigh, annoyed that the pain of her headache didn’t magically disappear at the move. Y/N sits up, pushing off the comforter and rubbing at her eyes, slowly opening them before sliding out of the bed and soon out of the room, heading to the kitchen to get some pain reliever to get rid her pounding headache.

“Well, good morning sunshine.” She hears a voice speak suddenly from behind her, causing her to jump and clutch at her chest.

She turned around, hand still over heart as she feels it race beneath it, suddenly seeing Harry standing there before her. Her eyes widen, quickly looking around the area and she lets out a loud groan, covering her face embarrassed that she didn’t even notice she wasn’t in her own apartment.

“Oh my god, what happened last night?” She whimpered, Y/N’s head seeming to pound more each second, looking down and seeing one of Harry’s T-shirts covering her along with a pair of his sweatpants, “Why am I wearing your clothes?”

“Calm down!” He chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder before cocking his head to the side, signaling her to follow him to the kitchen where she sits on a barstool, “You were super drunk, Y/N. I didn’t want you in your apartment by yourself, so I just had you stay here… Oh and for the clothes you literally walked straight into my room, grabbed them, locked yourself in the bathroom then crawled into my bed.”

Y/N lets out about her thirtieth groan of the morning, even though she’s been up for about ten minutes, and covers her face with her hands, trying to hide her red cheeks. She looks up, hearing the soft noise of Harry setting some Ibuprofen and water in front of her and she lets out a soft thank you, although when she looks up, she sees something in her peripheral vision, looking over and seeing blankets and pillows on the couch.

“Harry, did you sleep on your couch? You should have made me sleep there! Or at my own apartment!” Y/N whines, crossing her arms over her chest as he chuckles at her, “Seriously, I feel bad that you had to deal with blacked out me…”

“Blacked out you really isn’t bad; I’ve dealt with you before. You were just really grouchy, not quite sure what the problem was.” He taunted before adding, “Things went well with that waiter guy, Nate.”

“Nick?” She playfully fought back before she felt her heart fall, remembering how Nick came up to her last night, “What about Mallory?”

“What about her?”

“I-I don’t know” Y/N shrugs, looking down at the countertop as Harry’s gaze suddenly grows intense, feeling her skin burn under it, “You two just seemed really close last night… I’m sorry if I got in the way last night, I feel bad enough that I slept in your bed while you slept on the couch.”

“Stop it, you’re not a burden.” He replies, shaking his head, “are you hungry? I can order us some food if you want…”

“I don’t know, Harry. I should wash your sheets and help clean up your-“

“Stop that, you know that’s not necessary. Where do you want food from?”

Once again, Y/N wishes he wasn’t so charming, because of course she gives into him. With her giving in, this leads to the two ordering a bundle of breakfast foods to be delivered, arguing over who should pay, but of course Harry won that fight, as per usual.

“Fine, then I’m cleaning up this place up if you won’t let me pay for food, for like the millionth time might I add!” Y/N snickers, heading over and grabbing some dish soap and a sponge, grabbing the first plate, giggling as his arms wrap around her waist trying to pull her away, “no, Harry, I’m going to drop it! Stop bothering me, I’m trying to clean your apartment!”

“Fine, I guess I’ll let you slave away.” He smirks, fingers digging into her waist and making her squirm away, “But in exchange, you need to stay for a mini movie marathon.”

“…Deal.”

[imcryingbuckets]

My Whole Heart "Hates" You

I did it. Ha, yes, I wrote a Bill Hader x OFC fanfiction. Although I write a lot in my spare time, I've never written a fic before so pls be nice :(

It's sorta enemies to lovers, I know y'all love that shit, so I hope everyone likes it. Or at least one person. It's going to be multiple chapters, but I've only written the first one so far!

TW: Swearing, a lot of it (I'm British, sue me), no sexual content in this chapter, but if there is any in future chapters I will be sure to notify you (warnings are already tagged on ao3 just in case I forget to add them later on)

Summary: Violet works at Studio 8H, for Saturday Night Live! But one Monday morning she turns up to work to find out that Bill Hader is hosting. They have a past of getting under each other's skin and constantly getting into arguments and spats all over the office, but will that change when he returns to host this time? Will they put aside their differences? Do they really hate each other or are they just bad at flirting? I'm sure you know the answer to all these questions, but how 'bout you read this anyways! I suck at summaries

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31072760/chapters/76766612

Chapter One: Oh, boy.

I walk into Studio 8H clutching a hot cup of coffee in my hand, in attempt to bring myself some warmth during the surprisingly cold breeze of March. Arriving at the building only a few minutes late (better than usual), I quickly set my things down at my desk and walk over to Lorne’s office with my co-workers to find out the host line-up for the next month. We all file in and find seats, some of us sitting cross-legged on the floor, and we collectively gaze upon the corkboard as Lorne fills us all in. My stomach twists into knots as I read the first blue postcard pinned up, blinking twice to make sure I’m not seeing things. I rub my eyes because maybe I saw it wrong, maybe he isn’t hosting, maybe I just have something in my eye. But when I look back up I know I’m wrong because everybody’s eyes are on me, staring closely with hesitance to watch how I’ll react. Right above the yellow card that read ‘Arcade Fire’ was a blue one, reading

BILL HADER

My mind begins to play out a thousand different scenarios and outcomes on what could happen this week, now that Hader would be here. I start getting a light headache (quite the ordinary when it came to working here) and I notice that everyone is still staring at me, some in remorse, and some in fear of how I’m going to react. I decide pretty quickly that I should say something to settle everyone’s nerves.

“Guys, seriously, chill the fuck out.” Perhaps a little harsher than I intended so I backpedal a bit. “I know what you’re all thinking, but stop, okay? It’s not like I’m gonna go batshit crazy when I see him and punch him in the face or something. I intend to keep my job, thank you very much.”

The faces all around the room seem to relax at this and return their attention back to Lorne. Thankfully, no one heard me add ‘As much as he is an absolute cockwomble’. Well, Kate might have as she started giggling on the floor next to me.#

Kate knows of my small hatred towards the man everyone on Earth seems to praise (Hatred is a strong word, annoyance is probably better suited for my feelings towards him but I genuinely just enjoy how the word rolls off the tongue). 4 years ago when Bill hosted SNL back in 2014, Kate was the one that put up with all my complaints and remarks about him, and she was often the one I went to when I needed to vent about anything really, middle-aged-comedian-themed or not. I feel a little guilty seeing as she will probably have to reprise her role as the one who deals with my Hader ‘hatred’ when she actually quite likes the man and has friendly chats and jokes with him whenever he’s around. Normally when I tell people this, they think that the fact that they’re both friends would annoy me. But I actually couldn’t give the smallest of fucks (pardon my French). I think it’s great that everyone gets on with him, good for them! But we never seemed to be able to do that.

See despite our efforts to be professional, we kept getting in small bickering matches across the office the last time he hosted. It was never full on screaming, just very heavily charged snide comments and evil glares to one another.

Back home in the UK, my friends and I would often joke around playfully and poke fun at each other, but it was all light-hearted and we all knew that. Even some of my friends here at work do the same. But when Bill was here, everyone that was unfortunately present to witness our spats and quarrels all knew that it didn’t come from a place of love or admiration as it did with anyone else. No, it came from this annoyance in our guts that we got from each other. It certainly made the entire office largely tense for the whole week leading up to the Saturday, and thankfully he skipped the after party so the terror ended after the last sketch of the night.

I feel bad knowing that we’ll probably put the entire building through the same torment as we did 4 years ago, but I don’t feel an ounce of guilt for Bill. No sir. Every nasty remark I threw at him I meant with 100% intention, and I feel no urge to take any of them back when I see him this afternoon when he walks into the office. Not because I’m some cold-hearted bitch, but because he said some things that were equally as bad as mine. So suck on that, William.

Quicker than expected, the meeting ends. I get up eagerly off the floor, with the intention to get to my office as quickly as possible with hopes to not run into Bill. However, before I get the chance to leave, I hear Lorne call after me to ask me to stay behind.

“I need to talk to you about this week’s host.”

I see Kate give me a small smile that said ‘good luck’ as she left through the door with the others and a wave of her hand. I turn back to the man behind the desk, not knowing what to expect, apart from the fact that it’s probably about Bill. Obviously.

“I’m assuming you’ve seen who the host is for Saturday?” he says.

I give him a small nod with a tight small and a mutter that resembled something close to a ‘yes’.

“Well I know that the last time he hosted, you two didn’t get along very well and had some…”

I watched him for a few seconds as he tried to find the right word.

“…differences.” He decides. “But I don’t want that same thing to happen again, it’s been 4 years now so I’m hoping that you’ve both matured at least a little.”

“Yes well he is like 40 now.” I respond, a little uncomfortable as I feel like a three-year-old getting scolded by their teacher for flicking crayons at the other kid’s head.

“Yes, well… I hope that you both can learn to get along, or at least push your differences aside for one week?”

I nod, “Yes, yes, ‘course.” Wanting the conversation to end before Bill arrives.

“Good to hear, Violet. Although, if I hear any screaming between the two of you, I won’t hesitate to step in and organise something to put an end to it. Understood?”

For a moment I thought he was suggesting firing me, but I caught the slight smirk on his face that told me something different. He was planning something mischievous, but I couldn’t place what. Nor did I care enough to look for it.

I sigh in relief and nod my head for what felt like the hundredth time that day, starting to feel a bit like a bobble-head doll. “Yes, Lorne, I understand. No bickering, got it.”

He smiled with a look that suggested he got the answer he wanted, and waved his hand to say I could go. I gave him a goodbye and made my out of his office and started to speed-walk to my own, crossing my fingers that Hader hadn’t arrived yet.

I thank the mighty beings in the sky that I made it to my desk without seeing him, and shut the door with a click. My eyes fall upon the coffee that I left earlier that morning in the rush to get to the meeting and I frown as I realise that it’s probably gone cold and all icky. I grasp the paper cup and I’m surprised to be met with warmth, I guess the meeting wasn’t as long as I thought it had been. Content with this happy discovery, I sit down in front of my computer and open a script document from the other night, sipping at my lukewarm coffee. I begin to rapidly type away and fall into the rhythm of writing, before I am frustratingly interrupted with a knock at my door.

I pull away from the screen and yell “Come in!” to whoever is on the other side of the door, standing up from my desk to throw my now-empty paper coffee cup in the bin (or trash as these Americans I work with call it). The door opens to reveal Aidy peeking her head hesitantly through to look at me with almost sorry eyes.

“Pitch meeting in Lorne’s office. Got to discuss sketch ideas with…the host.” She smiles kindly at me knowing that I don’t want to go and see him.

“With Bill you mean?” I say knowingly, to which she just nods her head. “Okay, well, best to just get it over with. And besides, maybe he’s less of a dick now?”

She laughs a little in attempt to be supportive. I think.

As we’re walking down the corridor, I think back to when I first met him back in 2014. Obviously I knew who he was, ‘Bill Hader: SNL Alumni, Comedian, Actor, Father, blah blah blah’. At the time, he was also ‘Husband’ but I was told that the fact was no longer true. I make a mental note to not be so harsh on him, not wanting to be that person who bashes him so soon after a divorce.

I remember I was actually quite fond of him at first, I watched most of his stuff and admittedly, he was my ‘celebrity crush’ for the longest time. And when I met him in person, he actually was exactly like everyone described him as: funny, sweet, charming, an all ‘round nice guy. Not to mention insanely attractive. He was cute, even I can admit that. I don’t really remember why we didn’t get along all those years ago. I think it was a mixture of a clash of personalities and the fact that we’re both quite stubborn. Terribly stubborn. From what I can remember, we never exactly agreed on sketches or punchlines or anything really. But like Lorne said, it’s been 4 years. Maybe we’ll get along better.

My train of thought gets lost when we reach the door to Lorne’s office. I see Aidy push it open and walk in as I follow her, hearing that everyone seems to be in the middle of a conversation. Right before I get through the door, I hear him. His loud, obnoxious laugh filling the room. The laugh that so easily gets under my skin and makes my stomach feel all weird and uneasy.

I head into the room and find a seat, and that’s when I look up to see him. Bill. Standing in front of me in a blue shirt and black jeans and those white trainers he seems to wear to every fucking interview. He stands there staring at me with this smirk on his face that make my cheeks go red. He doesn’t say anything, he just stands there by Lorne’s desk and right before he looks away to continue his conversation with Kenan, he winks at me. I look down as not to cause trouble like Lorne said, and partly to hide my cheeks getting hotter and pinker by the second.

I tug at the loose thread of my sweater, looking at the floor to avoid his gaze. I don’t know why I’m getting so flustered, it is Bill after all. The man who so thoroughly annoys and teases me relentlessly. My mind begins to over-analyse everything and before it begins to run any further, I get called on to pitch a sketch idea.

Right before I open my mouth, I see Bill cross his arms in anticipation and looking deeply into my eyes with that stupid smile of his, probably eager to find something to tease me over later. But then I catch him lick his lips suddenly and a chill runs up my arms.

I look back down at my notepad and think, Oh boy, this week will be interesting.

[imjustthemechanic]

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers Part 16/? - Out of the Frying Pan

Out of the frying pan, but into the fire would be a worse mistake than Peggy knows.

-

Part of Peggy’s mind was flying.  How had Masters found out about this?  Thompson would have let him know when Kay escaped, but wouldn’t have had any idea where they were going because Peggy hadn’t told anyone about the coordinates except Daniel and… well, there was Russel, who could probably guess the significance of them but would not have known that Peggy was planning to actually investigate.  She’d only mentioned them to him once.  Had Kay left a note?  Or was her initial theory correct, and he’d just overheard Jason’s radio message to Stark Industries?  What had Jason actually said?

Another part was doing its level best to clamp down on the urge to punch him in the face.

“Agent Carter,” he said.  “Fleeing the country upon finding out you’re under investigation doesn’t look good at all.”

“I had every intention of returning, which you would know if you’d asked my landlord or my employer,” Peggy replied.

He was not impressed.  “And what’s your explanation for assisting in the escape of a known Soviet agent – again – and attempted theft of US Government property?”

“Don’t insult me,” said Kay.  “I escaped by myself.”

Masters glanced at her.  “From full-security police lockup under the noses of the entire East Coast SSR and the CIA?”

“What?  Like it’s hard?” asked Kay, in a mock ‘dimwit’ voice, wiggling her head and shoulders to cement the implication that any floozy could have done it.

“What government property are you referring to, Mr. Masters?” Peggy asked.  She had a feeling she knew the answer, and she didn’t like it a bit.

Masters turned to her again.  “You know damn well I’m referring to Captain America and his equipment.  The shield is the world’s entire known stock of Vibranium, and his body is the only hope we or anybody else have of recreating Erskine’s serum.  And you were about to sell both of them to the Russians!”  He looked her over in disgust.  “Were you already planning that when he was alive, or is it that now he’s dead his wishes don’t matter anymore?”

This time Peggy very nearly did punch him – she actually raised an arm before she managed to get herself under control, leading Kay to grab her around the shoulders to stop her, and several of the soldiers surrounding them to aim their guns at her face.

“They certainly don’t seem to matter to you,” she said through her teeth, shrugging Kay off of her.  “Steve would not have wanted to be an object of study after his death.”

“Captain Rogers wanted us to win the war,” Masters replied.  “We’re fighting a new war now and he’s gonna be our key to winning it.”  He stepped back.  “I want these two put in the brig, Captain Lewis – and don’t take eyes off them for a moment.  They’re slippery.”

The man who must’ve been Lewis nodded.  “Do it,” he told the men.  “And get the Captain straight down to the morgue to thaw out. The scientists are waiting.”

Peggy and Kay were taken unceremoniously by the shoulders and frog-marched inside.

It took a few minutes for the red haze at the edge of Peggy’s vision to fade away and her fists to unclench before she could think about this logically, and when she did, she began to realize she was in very serious trouble indeed.  All this time Masters had nothing on her but suspicions and circumstances, but now she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, so to speak.  Who would believe her story that she and Howard were just bringing Steve back for burial when they’d been so secretive about the whole thing?  Perhaps Kay would testify in her defense… but who would believe her when she was an admitted spy and a murderess?

The soldiers put them in a cell in the brig, far down in the belly of the ship, and left two very large and imposing men to watch over them. Peggy and Kay sat down on the little cot in the cell, and their guards sat down on either side of a small table outside, and dealt themselves a hand of cards.  How ironic, Peggy thought with a barely-suppressed sneer.

Kay had said nothing since mocking the SSR’s security out on the deck.  She did not look particularly inclined to say anything now.  She merely sat looking at her watch.

“Have you anything to say for yourself?” Peggy asked her.

There was no reply.  Of course there wasn’t.  Kay had never explained anything and there was no reason for her to start now. Instead of trying to talk, Peggy decided to try to think.

What were their options at this point?  They could sit here and be taken back to the States for trial – that would most likely end in a guilty verdict and imprisonment, if not hanging, for both of them.  They could try to escape.  Peggy could probably pick the lock on the door but the guards would see and hear her doing it, and she doubted she could take both of them.  Perhaps Kay could take one, but that would just be further evidence that the two were in cahoots.  What a silly-sounding word cahoots was.  Where on Earth had it come from?

If they did escape, where would they go?  They were on a ship.  Peggy could not fly a plane or a helicopter, although she wondered whether Kay might be able to.  Their only options would be to take a lifeboat or to jump into the water.  The former would be easily pursued, and the latter meant death by hypothermia.  The same fate Steve himself had suffered… also nicely ironic.

They could try to escape long enough to go get Steve’s body back, but what would they do with it?  The options seemed to be destroying it or dumping it overboard.  The second was not a good idea – it might still be retrieved.  But the former was deeply distasteful.  Peggy couldn’t imagine cutting him up or… or burning him?  The ship would have huge furnaces to keep the crew warm and provide steam for the propellers.  Those would certainly make a fine crematorium… could she bring herself to do it herself?

Maybe she could, if she were desperate enough.  At the moment Peggy had nothing to lose… but that still left the question of how to get out of this cell…

“You stupid bitch,” said Kay suddenly.

Peggy’s head snapped up.  “Excuse me?” she said.  Her companion had said nothing at all for what must have been ten minutes at least, and now was offering insults out of nowhere?

Kay shot a glance at the guards, then glared at Peggy. “You had no plan, did you? Here I thought you were coming out here knowing what you were doing, but you had no idea and now we’re in here!”

Ah.  “Why should I have a plan?” Peggy demanded.  “I didn’t think we were going to find a bloody thing up here except ice and snow!  Did you really think I was taking your word for something so important?  How can you be smart enough to escape from Thompson and yet stupid enough to think I would trust you?”

“You didn’t need to trust me!  You just needed to have a backup plan!”  Kay gave Peggy a shove.

“Don’t you dare touch me, you daft Russian whore!” Peggy shoved her back, and the two of them rolled off the cot to grapple on the floor.   Having fought with Dottie more than once, Peggy knew the Russian women were ruthless and skilled, but now Kay wrestled like a child who’d never been in a fight in her life, grabbing and pinching and pulling hair.  Peggy did likewise.  If this were going where she thought it was going…

“That’s enough, you two!” a male voice announced. Keys jingled.  Peggy didn’t dare look up as two pairs of heavy boots approached – the men were going to try to separate her.  For an instant she caught Kay’s eye, and saw a smile on the other woman’s face.

Then a pair of hands grabbed Peggy’s shoulders.  She wrapped her legs around the man’s boots and twisted – he fell against the cot.  Before he could right himself, Peggy was on her feet and grabbed him by the hair to smash his face against the wall repeatedly.  By the second impact his nose was bloody, and by the fourth he was limp in her hands.  She let him drop and turned around.  Kay had gotten a hold of the second man’s tags and twisted them tight around his neck. Peggy was just in time to see him turn blue and pass out.

“Well done,” Peggy said, as the soldier collapsed at Kay’s feet.

“Letting them think you’re stupid and emotional is always your best weapon,” Kay told her, brushing off her hands.

“I have some experience with that myself,” said Peggy. “To the morgue?”

“Obviously.”

They helped themselves to the unconscious soldiers’ guns, and Peggy took the keys off one of their belts and locked the cell door on them.

The ship they were on was a Casablanca-class escort carrier.  Peggy had never been on one, but she knew that on large military ships both the brig and the morgue were deep in the interior, far from anywhere the rank and file sailors would normally go.  Left to her own devices, it probably wouldn’t have taken her very long to find the one from the other, but she didn’t have to.  Kay appeared to know exactly where she was going.  She headed down a flight of steps, and then paused in the stairwell, putting an ear to the doors.  Peggy crept up next to her.

“How’s he doing?” a male voice asked.

“He’s free of most of the ice,” a woman replied, “but still pretty solid.”

Peggy put her eye to the gap between the two doors. Two doctors in white coats were talking to a brunette nurse, just to the right of a solid door labeled MORGUE. The door was closed and apparently locked.

“We can’t wait too long, or the blood will start to clot,” said the shorter of the doctors.

“We’ll still have the bone marrow,” the first man reassured him.  “Can you give me an estimate, Miss Harper?”

“They’re saying at least another hour,” the nurse said, and turned to unlock the door.  All three people headed through.

Peggy and Kay exchanged a glance to make sure they were still agreed as to the plan.  It seemed they were, so they both burst out of the stairwell and took the trio from behind. Peggy clocked the taller one on the back of the head with the gun she’d taken off her jailer.  He dropped to his knees, holding his bleeding scalp.  Kay vaulted onto the shorter one’s back and knocked him forward into Miss Harper, spilling both of them onto the floor. Miss Harper tried to scream, but Kay kicked her in the face, and then drove her knee into the second doctor’s jaw. He fell.

Inside the morgue room, two more doctors and three nurses were standing around the gurney where Steve’s body was now lying.  They were, for the moment, too shocked by this sudden and violent intrusion to react to it, which gave Peggy and Kay the advantage. Peggy grabbed the nearest equipment tray and hit one of the doctors in the face with it.  The first blow appeared to merely stun him and he just stood there blinking at her.  She hit him three more times, until he fell.  One of the nurses tried to flee, and Peggy pushed the doctor’s body into her.

While Peggy was occupied with that, Kay had shoved the other doctor into the open drawer that had been waiting to receive Steve’s body. She shut it and turned the lock, then she and Peggy both pulled out their guns and trained them on the two nurses still standing.  Both women put their hands up.

Kay twitched her chin towards the first two doctors and Miss Harper, all lying on the floor in various states of unconsciousness. “Get them out of the way,” she ordered the nurses.

The women didn’t move.

“We have had a very upsetting day,” Peggy warned them.

Terrified, the nurses went to start rolling the bodies of their co-workers away from the door.  Kay kept her eyes and a gun on them, while Peggy took the brakes off the gurney.  There was a white drop cloth over the corpse.  Peggy knew it would be a terrible idea to look beneath it, but she told herself that after all this trouble they had better make sure they had the right body, and lifted it for a peek.

There he was.  They’d cut his uniform off him, leaving him quite naked.  Bruises and scrapes he’d gotten on his last mission were still there.  Peggy recognized one on his arm where a bullet had grazed him.  She’d bandaged that herself, because he’d been too sunken in depression from the death of his friend to do it.  And the cut on his cheek, just beneath his left earlobe. She’d kissed that.  The memory, buried for three years, was suddenly as fresh as if it had happened moments ago.

She reached to touch the place, and quickly drew her hand back upon finding his skin was wet and still icy cold, feeling more like frozen meat than human tissue.  How was he still pink?  As he thawed the blood ought to start pooling in his back and buttocks, like it always did on dead bodies.  Maybe those parts were still frozen.

“Peggy!” Kay barked.  “Is that him?”

Peggy quickly dropped the cloth and wiped her wet fingers on her coat.  “It’s him,” she said.

“Follow me,” said Kay.

“Where are we going?” Peggy asked, as she wheeled the gurney out of the room.

Kay led the way up the hall with the longest strides she could take.  “The boiler room,” she said.

“Oh, good,” Peggy nodded.  Had Kay’s mission perhaps been to either secure Captain America’s body for her own people or, failing that, to see to it the Americans didn’t get a hold of him either?  Peggy decided she didn’t care anymore.  Whatever the reasons, they were going to do right by Steve, and after that, if Masters wanted to hang her, she would go to the gallows with her head held high.

[ihaveatypeanditstrickstergods]

Operation Hearthfire Chapter 1: It’s Better Warm

Finally, it’s up!

Post-Avengers canon divergent.  Loki is exiled to Earth, placed under magically binding house arrest in a SHIELD safehouse, watched by a bevy of highly trained agents... and one "caretaker," who up until recently had been a low-level archivist.  Heather Seagin doesn't know why she was chosen for this job any more than anyone else seems to, but she'll be damned if she isn't going to do it to the best of her abilities, even as surrounding circumstances and Loki himself endeavor to make it as difficult as possible.

Read it on Ao3!

@loki-yoursaviourishere  

(if you want to be tagged for this, just let me know!  If you asked before and I forgot, I’m sorry!  if you thought you wanted to be tagged for this and changed your mind, also let me know!)

It was one of SHIELD’s smallest facilities: an archive, built in Upstate New York sometime in the 1950’s, filled with reports, both news and scientific, then left mostly alone.  It was tended by only two low-clearance staff members, who were each only at the facility a few times a week (rarely on the same day), or by appointment if one of the files there needed to be consulted.  A woman who, until her recent recruitment for a more... unusual job, had been one of those two staff members was seated in a chair facing her former desk, looking over it at her supervising agent.

“Long-Term Operation Codename Hearthfire, Verbal Status Report 3,” Agent Richardson said into the pocket recorder, “27 August 2012, present Level 6 Agent T. Richardson and Exceptional Level 1 Archivist H. Seagin.  Recorded at 0900 hours at archival building designation 023.”  He set the recorder down on the desk and sat down in the chair.  Heather always thought that Richardson looked like he’d just stepped out of an episode of Law and Order, which didn’t help her nerves when they met at the archive for these status reports.  It made her feel like she was being interrogated.

“Alright, let’s start with general thoughts.  How have things progressed with the Subject since the last report?”

“They haven’t,” Heather replied bluntly.  She was now into her third week as Loki’s caretaker since he’d been exiled to Earth, and she could count the number of words they’d exchanged without taking off her shoes.  Or well, words she’d spoken to him.  He had yet to acknowledge her existence past a few glares, never mind speaking to her.

“Loki--sorry, the Subject,” she was still getting used to the phrasing SHIELD wanted her to use for these reports, “is still just staying in his room all day.  I did try staying up until when he usually gets up Wednesday night, but he didn’t leave his room then either, so I think he’s waiting until he’s sure I’m asleep.”  

“So, no progress, okay...” Agent Richardson nodded as Heather winced, then he went on to the next question.

“Have you been able to make any contact?  You were talking last week about leaving notes.”  Heather let out an uncomfortable chuckle.

“I tried,” she admitted.  As far as she was concerned, part of her job as the exiled god’s caretaker was helping him adjust to the minor details of life on earth.  At the time, leaving post-it notes explaining how to use various items across the isolated SHIELD safehouse where they’d been placed seemed like a good idea, but in practice, well...

“I do think he read some of them, anyway, at least it seemed like he was able to successfully use the shower, but there was no response, unless you count me finding them torn up the next morning.”

“Well, that’s something, I guess.”  He folded his hands, “Alright, elephant in the room.  Let’s talk about the attempted perimeter breach.”  Heather sighed.  “I think I already said what I wanted to say in the incident report,” she remarked.

“Can you just humor me and go over what happened again?  I need to have this on the record.”

“Fine.  So four days ago around 5 AM, the Subject,” she emphasized the last two words with a frustrated gesture, “attempted to leave the house and was knocked unconscious, I assume by his inhibitor cuff.”  The cuff was Asgardian, part of the provisions for Loki’s house arrest.  Neither Heather nor anyone else in SHIELD knew how it worked, and no one wanted to risk taking a closer look at it in case that disabled it, but it was supposed to keep him from using magic and, apparently, from leaving the house.

“I was asleep when it happened,” she continued, “since, you know, he only leaves his room when I’m asleep, but the team watching the house was able to bring him back in without incident,” even if it had taken six of them.  “One of them woke me up and brought me in, so I was present when he woke up about five minutes later, but he didn’t say anything and went back to his room pretty quickly.”

“Have there been any changes in the Subject’s behavior since then?”  Heather had to think about that question, but only for a second.

“Yes, actually.  He’s stopped making messes every night.”  At first, Heather would often wake up to find one room or another turned upside down--couches taken apart, drawers removed, the works, but she hadn’t since Loki had attempted to leave.  “At least for now.  It’s only been four days.  He might just be giving me a break.”

“Interesting.  What about changes in his psychological state?”

“I wouldn’t know.  He’s been avoiding me and refuses to make contact with me.”

“That’s fair.  Anything else?”  

Heather hesitated.  She did have one more thing to say, but if she did, either Agent Richardson would shoot her down or she’d be committed to this course of action, and at this point, after talking over what a bad job she was doing, she wasn’t sure which she was hoping for.

“There is one thing,” she said, deciding to go for it, “I want to try to directly attempt to establish contact tonight.  I have a plan.”

“I take it the plan’s more involved than post-it notes?”  Richardson raised an eyebrow, causing Heather to internally roll her eyes.

“Yes, it’s more involved than post-it notes,” she said with a small annoyed sigh, “You watch the house at night, right?”  She had trouble keeping track of the monitoring squads’ shifts, but he’d been there during the attempted perimeter breach.

“Some nights, yes.  Why?”

“Is there a usual time that he eats?  I know that he has been pretty much every night.”  At least if the dishes she found in the mornings were any indication.

“It varies, but usually between 0200 and 0400.  So you’re gonna try to get him while he eats?”

“Yeah.  Last time I stayed up it was in the living room, which is closer to his room... I think if I stay up in the sitting room by the kitchen, he might think the coast is clear and go about his business, then I can approach him when he enters the kitchen to eat.”

“And what, you’ll ambush him while he eats and try to get him to talk to you?”

“Hopefully.”  To Heather’s surprise, Agent Richardson leaned forward and paused the recording.

“Look, Heather,” he said, “I can tell you’re trying, and I appreciate that you’re taking this job seriously, but honestly?  You shouldn’t feel like you have to do this.  Given what Loki’s done and what he’s capable of, no one would blame you if you just let him sulk.”

While she could sort of see his point--they both knew that she wasn’t qualified for this, that there wasn’t anybody really qualified to share space with a demigod war criminal--something in his tone made her temper flare.  Only three weeks in, and he was already telling her to give up?

“I appreciate the thought,” she said, trying her hardest not to scowl, “but y’all brought me in to be Loki’s caretaker.  Last I checked, that meant more than just letting him eat my leftovers while I sleep.”  This job was aggravating, a little terrifying, and more than a little potentially dangerous, but she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to try her utmost to do it.

“Hmm,”  Agent Richardson tilted his head, and if Heather hadn’t known better, she might’ve picked up the slightest hint of a smile on his normally inscrutable face.  He leaned forward and turned the recorder back on.

“Alright,” he said, “sounds like a workable plan.  Puts you at a bit of risk, though, so I want to go back over contingencies for if he reacts negatively.”  Heather was silent for a moment, surprised at the agent’s change of attitude, but decided to continue on with her plan before he tried to talk her out of it again.

“So, first off, the sitting room by the kitchen is connected to the back door.  The perimeter breach proved that he can’t go too far outside the house, and if I come in while he’s eating, he’ll probably be sitting down, so as long as I stay by the door I’ll have a decent chance of making it out if he reacts physically.”

“Uh-huh.  And if he’s faster than you anticipated?”

“I say the cuff’s command word.”  It was the ultimate failsafe, a single word she could say to make the cuff knock Loki unconscious as sure as if he had left the house.  The perimeter breach had proved that the cuff acted quickly enough that she’d most likely be fine.

“Good,” he said with a nod, “Sounds like a plan.  Hopefully we’ll have some more positives to talk about next week.  End recording.”  Agent Richardson turned the recorder off and stood up, pushing the chair out behind him as he asked, “Was there anything else you needed to take care of here?” causing Heather to shake her head.

“No, I don’t need to do any of my fake job today,” she joked with a small grin, tension reduced now that she wasn’t actively being interviewed.  Officially she was still employed at the archive, although she only ‘worked’ in the building once a week. “Got some errands to run, though, so I’d better head out.”  If she hurried, she’d be able to get a nap in before her stakeout.

“Are you alright, Heather?” She was almost out the door and nearly missed the agent’s question, but turned around when she did.  There was a look of concern on his face, the most emotion she’d seen him express since they’d met when she first took the caretaker job.

“I’m fine,” she assured him with a small smile, “frustrated more than anything, but hey, maybe I’ll actually accomplish something tonight.”

“Alright.  Just... be careful.  This is Loki we’re talking about.”

“I know.  I will.”

***

After a grocery run and a couple of other stops, Heather did, in fact, make it back to the safehouse in time for a nap.  The house was tucked into a forest just far enough away from civilization that people were unlikely to come looking, although not so far away that cell service was nonexistent.  Until she’d been recruited by SHIELD, first for the archive job, then as Loki’s caretaker, she had lived in the downtown area of a small city in Virginia, so the quiet still weirded her out a little--although it was very nice when it came to napping.  When she woke up a few hours later--hopefully enough sleep to get her through the night--she had something to eat in the kitchen, took care of both her dishes and the ones Loki had left the night before and headed through the door on the far side into the sitting room.

Despite more or less having the run of the house, she didn’t usually bother with the small sitting room by the back door--she was pretty sure the most time she’d spent there was putting the armchairs back together after Loki had trashed the room one night--but it was perfect for her stakeout. It was adjacent to the kitchen, on the far side from the rest of the house, and the door between the two rooms created a blind spot that would hopefully keep her hidden.   Leaving the door just ajar enough that she could hear what was happening in the kitchen, she settled herself in a chair with a book. Soon it would be too dark to read, but she could at least get some in now before she had to try to keep herself awake on nerves alone.

One hour crept by, then an hour and a half, then two, each easily seeming twice its actual length.  Bringing a book had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she was so focused on the night ahead that she’d barely been able to pay attention to the words in front of her.  It was after two hours, around 9:40, when it finally got too dark to even pretend to read.  On the bright side, even if she hadn’t taken that nap, she was pretty sure her nerves would keep her from falling asleep.  As she sat in that chair, watching the door and waiting for any sign of life, she found herself wondering what if he didn’t come into the kitchen, what if he left as soon as he saw her... And what if she succeeded?

According to her phone, it was 2:27 AM when she finally heard footsteps entering the kitchen. Heather sat upright, muscles tense, the drowsiness of a moment ago forgotten. She could go in now, she supposed, but she wanted to wait until he was eating. Hopefully a plate full of food in front of him would make him less inclined to leave as soon as she came in the room--or at least put a table between the two of them if he reacted violently. The footsteps stopped, replaced with the sound of the refrigerator opening, followed by a drawer. Heather waited for the buzz of the microwave, but it never came. Instead she heard more footsteps, then a chair being pulled back.

Oh god, she thought, has he just been eating cold leftovers?  She mentally ran through a list of everything she’d put post-it notes on and internally facepalmed as she realized that she’d forgotten about the microwave.

She slowly began to stand up, her brain rapidly running through all the things she’d considered saying during her wait, only to freeze when she heard a voice--his voice--through the gap in the door.

“I know you’re in there,” Loki’s voice was hoarse, rougher than she’d expected, although she supposed that no one sounded their best after not speaking for three weeks, “Did you really think to hide from me?”

For a moment, Heather remained frozen part way through getting up from the chair, unsure of how to respond.  Somehow, all the times she’d run through this moment in her head, she’d never thought he might notice her--or at least if he had, she hadn’t thought he would acknowledge her.  For a moment, fear spread over her mind and she regretted even coming up with this plan in the first place.  But no.  She’d stayed up this late so she could try to talk to him, and dammit, she was going to talk to him.  Slowly, cautiously, as if approaching a skittish animal, she opened the door and stepped into the kitchen. 

“I just wanted to talk to you,” she admitted as she closed the door behind her, “this was the only way I could think of to do it.”

Moonlight shone through the window, hitting Loki like a spotlight.  The god sat at the kitchen table, arms loosely folded across his chest.  His blue-green eyes stared intently at her as she emerged into the room, the casserole dish of baked ziti sitting on the table seemingly forgotten.  As he watched her, still as a statue, she struggled to remember even a single word she’d planned on saying.  For a moment, the two just stared at each other, he in interest, she in apprehension, until finally the god spoke.

“Who are you?” he asked, his eyes scanning her face as if it was a book in a language he couldn’t quite comprehend.

“My name’s Hea-”

“No, who are you?” Loki stood up from the table and took a slow step towards her.

 “I had wondered,” he continued as he slowly and casually walked towards her, “if Odin would choose to exile me to Midgard.”  Unconsciously, Heather took a step back, backing herself against the door.

“I had even considered the possibility of being turned over to my previous captors,” his stare broke away from her for a brief moment as he looked into the room's camera, adding, “never mind that they only held me briefly, and only because I willed it. But I never anticipated you.” He turned back to her, closing the space between them as he asked, “What are you meant to be to me, hmm? A jailor? A servant?"  He leaned a hand on the doorframe, looming over her, "A sacrifice to an angry god?"

Heather looked up into Loki’s face, her eyes meeting his. She was sure he could see her fear, her wide eyes, her trembling legs. Her fight-or-flight instinct was screaming for flight, urging her to back through the door to the sunroom and either make a run for the perimeter or use the newly gained space to say the cuff’s command word and drop him. But instead, she took a quick breath, steeling herself.  If she ran now, she knew, she may as well leave the house, because she’d never get another opportunity to really talk to him.

"Your caretaker," she answered his question with only a slight tremble in her voice, "So a little bit of all three, depending on who you're asking."  

Loki’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment that seemed an eternity, he said nothing and stared into her face, his head cocked in what Heather hoped was just curiosity and not anything more sinister.  Finally, the god let out a sharp exhale through his nose--she wasn’t sure, but part of her thought it might have been the smallest hint of a chuckle--and shook his head.

“A caretaker?” he asked mockingly, “Your masters would throw a rabbit into a wolf’s den to, what, leave me notes explaining the obvious?  To wait up all hours of the night, for naught but a chance to speak with me?  No, you’re no caretaker.”

Any other time, the way he sneered the last word would have been enough to demoralize Heather then and there.  Her report that morning had been a reflection of how little an idea she had of what she was doing, and even now, the situation she’d engineered, one she’d intended to have full control over, had been all but usurped by the god who was now practically pinning her to a door.  By all accounts, she could be doing a lot better.  But then, that was why she was there.  After all, how the hell was anyone supposed to know what kind of caretaker she was when her charge made it this hard to even try?  Heather took a breath, straightened her shoulders, and began one more attempt to shift the conversation in her favor.

“So,” she said, pointedly looking past him to the ziti on the table, “you’ve been eating cold leftovers this whole time?”  Her nerves made the question spill out of her mouth more quickly than she’d intended, and she wasn’t sure if the confusion on Loki’s face was because the question was abrupt or because it was unintelligible.

“What?” the god asked, glancing over his shoulder to follow her gaze.  She continued while she had him off balance.

“I can heat it up for you,” she said, gesturing towards the table, “The ziti, I mean.  It’s a lot better warm.”

He actually did laugh at that, a rolling chuckle that seemed to come right from his chest as he turned back to look at her.

“Such tenacity,” Loki murmured, more to himself than to her.  She tensed, preparing for more insults or possibly even threats, but instead he stepped back, finally giving her some blessed breathing space.  

“Very well,” he said, “if you’re that dedicated to your role, by all means, show me.”

Heather took advantage of her newly-gained space to make her way towards the cupboards, still tense as she braced herself in case Loki tried anything.  The god remained still, but she could feel his gaze following her as she opened a cabinet and a drawer, removing a plate and butter knife--anything sharper was locked up, and she didn’t really want to deal with that at the moment--and approached the table.  The fork he’d had was still sitting next to the casserole dish, and between that and the butter knife, she managed to put what she thought was a good-sized serving of ziti on the plate.  She carefully walked the heavy-laden plate to the microwave, put it in, and pushed a few buttons, wondering once again how she had forgotten to leave a post-it explaining that--although, she didn’t know if it would’ve done much, given the shredded paper she’d found all over the house the morning after she’d placed them. As the microwave buzzed, she turned back to face Loki, who was still standing by the door.

“It’ll be ready in a moment,” she informed him, “so you can sit back down.”  To her surprise, he complied, although his eyes continued to follow her intently as she removed the now-steaming ziti from the microwave.  As she set it in front of him, he gestured at the chair across from his.

“Sit,” he ordered.  When she hesitated, he added, “You wished to speak with me, did you not?  You may as well sit where I can see you.”

“Oh, okay.”  That made sense.  Heather sat down, looking at the god now seated across from her.  Despite his claimed desire to look at her during their conversation, Loki was barely paying her any attention, instead focusing on the steaming plate of food in front of him.  He almost looked human now, a tired part of her brain noted.  As that thought ran through her head, he looked back up at her, one eyebrow cocked as if silently asking Well?   Right.  He wasn’t human.  He was a god, he was her charge, and this was quite possibly her only opportunity to talk him around.

 During the silent hours she’d waited for him to come into the kitchen, she’d mentally run through this conversation dozens of times.  She’d put together a speech she was confident would have had Loki understanding her position, and of course she could only remember it in scrambled bits now.  But she could tell that his patience--such as it was--was running thin, so she let as much as she could fall out in whatever order came to mind.

“Look,” Heather said, “I’ll admit that a lot about this situation is... weird.  I don’t know if there’s any sort of precedent for it, I mean, I’ve never been a god’s caretaker before, but I want to do the best I can for you.  To help you out here, I mean.”  As frustrating as Loki’s avoidance was, she understood why he would be wary of her--she was, after all, working for the organization that had helped to assemble the Avengers to defeat him a few months ago and now was overseeing his confinement. 

“Obviously I don’t expect us to be friends or anything,” she continued, “but I do think that things would be a lot more comfortable for both of us if we communicated... or at least if you didn’t completely avoid me.  I get if you need space, but...”

“Enough.”  The sudden clatter of Loki’s fork hitting the table cut off whatever she was going to say next.

“I’m impressed with your persistence,” the god pushed his now nearly empty plate forward, “I’m sure that some would even find it admirable.”  He picked the fork back up, idly playing with it in one hand,  “But you needn’t treat me like a fool.  We both know that you didn’t consent to being locked up here to ‘do your best for me’.  You’ve all but given yourself to a god who invaded your world not one of your years ago.”  His eyes narrowed as he stared directly into hers, “I would know why.”

“Why?” Heather hesitated.  Shit.  She’d hoped he wouldn’t have asked that.  Up until this point, she had been completely honest with him--she was sure Agent Richardson would say too honest, given Loki’s reputation for manipulation.  But she’d even kept her full reasons for agreeing to the caretaker job from SHIELD; there was no way she could tell Loki.  It would leave her far too vulnerable.  Maybe she could tell part of the truth, just enough to--hopefully--satisfy him.

“I mean...” she began, looking up to meet his eyes, “I was offered the opportunity to live with a literal god.  I knew that it was going to be dangerous, but, well... if I’d said no, I would have regretted it.  I would have spent my entire life wondering what would have happened if I’d agreed.”  Her words hung in the air between them for a moment, and she was afraid she’d said too much, but then Loki shook his head, a smirk twisting across his face.

“And you never thought you might regret agreeing?” he asked.  Before Heather could come up with an answer, or even properly register the question, Loki stabbed his fork into the table, leaving it standing straight up.  She started, almost knocking her chair over.  Before she could even right herself, she was looking up at the camera, shaking her head and hoping that Richardson or whoever else was watching wouldn’t come barging in.  If Loki had meant to hurt her, some part of her brain that wasn’t panicking reasoned, he would have hurt her, and she didn’t want to ruin whatever miniscule progress she’d made.

The god snickered, flashing his teeth in a vicious grin.

“That’s what I thought.”

By the time Heather turned away from the camera, Loki had stood up and was silently making his way to the doorway.  Before he left, he casually said over his shoulder, “You were right, by the way.  It was more... palatable warm.”

Supplemental Status Report 08/28: Subject S has successfully made verbal contact with Subject L.  L seemed unaware of any significance S may have to Asgard, although he and footage can both be deceiving.  For the time being, continue observation and noninterference unless Subject S appears to be in imminent physical danger.

 - T. Richardson, Level 6

[endof-theline]

Day 18- Tropetember: Undercover

Day 18 of super early Tropetember with Undercover! Tony hates going undercover, he's not even a Shield agent for starters, what's worse is when they are just using him as bait.

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32666464

"No, no way, I'm not doing it! I don't even work for Shield, why would I go undercover?" Tony refused as he backed away from Natasha who was standing, leaning on the doorframe with her arms crossed and a bored expression on her face.

"I need someone with your skill set" Natasha shrugged a shoulder simply "Besides our guy has a preference for smaller guys, all of male agents are bigger than you"

"I'm not small!" Tony snapped before Clint snickered behind him, walking to his side and grinning down to the genius who just narrowed his eyes into a look that would have killed Clint if it could.

"Smaller than the agents" Clint pointed out before laughing and ducking out the way of Tony's hands as the smaller tried to slap at him "We all know that you'll give into Tasha, so stop arguing and come back to Shield with us"

"I'm not-" Tony started off again but Natasha just raised an eyebrow at him "Fine, but I'm going to whine the whole time!"

"Deal" Natasha said with a smirk on her face before the three of them were rushing back to Shield, and as promised Tony whined the whole ride over there as Clint laughed and Natasha just ignored the pair with an amused look on her face.

Tony was scowling at Natasha now, his hair was dyed blonde, his face shaven and he had coloured contacts in to make his eyes blue. Clint was too busy laughing at him to be any real help to anyone, and when Steve arrived he just looked stunned.

"You look like his mini-me" Clint howled with laughter as his eyes went between the pair, Tony just groaned and shook his head as he pushed away Natasha's hand.

"What-? Why-?" Steve stammered cluelessly before swallowing thickly "What have you done to him?"

"Gee thanks Steve, nothing like boosting my confidence" Tony snarked, he hated Natasha messing around with how he looked and he batted her hands away at every chance when she tried to fix his collar or his hair. It reminded him too much of being a child, his mother constantly fussing him around and fixing his appearance at galas or anything else he was forced to attend as a child.

"That's not what I meant" Steve quickly refused as he held up his hands in defense "You just look so different, not bad… Just really different"

Tony looked away and shrugged shyly before Natasha tipped his head up and smiled at him "Ready to go over the mission one last time?"

"As I'll ever be" Tony mumbled grumpily before Natasha opened the file on the table and jabbed at Tony's target's picture.

Tony nursed the bright pink cocktail, something Clint had told him to order and it was way sweeter than anything Tony would have ordered for himself, and let his eyes scan the club for his target. All he had to do was get the man to follow him outside and to Natasha and Clint who would take over from there, it was easy and he was just being their bait.

"Hello there, gorgeous" a smooth, accented voice purred as a man sat down beside him, the man was big and even though Steve was bigger it still made Tony gulp "What's a pretty thing like you sitting here alone for?"

"My friend's left me alone" Tony pouted and looked up under his lashes at the man, the man who was exactly the person he was looking for "You gonna keep me company?"

"Oh I think I will" He smirked down at Tony, his hand coming up to grab at Tony's jaw to lift his face up "You look like trouble, are you going to be a good boy for me?"

Tony fought hard with the temptation to scrunch up his nose in disgust or rip his jaw out from the man's grasp but instead he smiled sweetly and asked "I can be anything you want, you want me to be a good boy?"

"You are trouble, but I always like my boys with a bit of a spark" The man grinned before Tony gently put his hand on the man's, acting like a reminder of the tight grip before the man let go of him. Tony turned and took a larger drink of the neon pink drink, Clint picked something weird but it was starting to grow on him.

"My name's Antonio, what do I call you?" Tony asked with another smile on his face, a lustful look on his face that easily tricked the man whose eyes darkened.

"My name's Aidan, but you can call me Sir" Aidan growled and Tony's cheeks flushed in response, taking another long drink and humming as he did "Now Antonio, I don't think it's fair how much attention your giving that drink and not to me"

"I'm sorry, sir, but it tastes so good" Tony purred back and batted his eyelashes in a move that Natasha taught him as a joke, but it worked on Aidan as the man grabbed at his waist and hauled Tony onto his lap. Tony let out a real squeak as he grabbed onto Aidan's shirt to make sure he didn't fall off, it had been awhile since Tony had been with a guy and he had forgotten what it was like to feel hard muscle under his hands.

"Let me have a taste then" Aidan murmured before he smashed their lips together, Aidan's hands grabbed at his hips and held on with a bruising grip as Tony still clung to his shirt and tried to find any kind of rhythm and found nothing apart from the possessiveness and dominating bites to his bottom lip that was more painful than anything else "Mh, you're right, baby, it does taste good"

"Take me home, sir, I wanna go home with you" Tony wriggled his hips on Aidan's lap and whined high in his throat when the bigger man smirked at him.

"Begging already, Antonio, you really make the sweetest noises" Aidan's hand wriggled under his top and rested on waist making Tony panic for a moment, not wanting the man's hand to come closer to the Arc Reactor scars.

"If you take me home, I'll show you how sweet I can be" Tony let his hands roam Aidan's chest, subtly forcing his hand down from Tony's waist "I've been told that I sing real sweet too"

“Oh I bet you do” Aidan smile was going to haunt Tony’s nightmares for a while, but for now Tony smiled along before leaning back to grab his glass and down the rest of it’s contents “So eager”

“Why wouldn’t I be, sir?” Tony giggled and Aidan’s slimy smile only grew before he was sliding Tony off his lap and taking his hand, leading him to the door which would lead him straight into Natasha and Clint.

Clint stood a little distance from the door, a lit cigarette in his hands and his face turned away from them although Tony knew that Clint was watching out for him, and although Tony couldn’t spot Natasha he knew she would be on the other side.

“Come, sweet boy, my car’s this way” Aidan cooed at him and gently tugged Tony to walk away from Clint, Tony rolled with the motion and leant into Aidan’s side with a smile on his face “A shame your friends left you all alone, they must not be good friends”

“I guess not” Tony sighed sadly before looking up at him through his lashes again to give him a sweet look “But then I wouldn’t have met you!”

“And neither would I” Tony heard Natasha say before he jerked away from Aidan, getting pushed away by Clint as he jumped in to help Natasha restrain Aidan with practiced ease. Tony yelped when a hand rested on his shoulder, he whipped his head around and relaxed instantly at the sight of Steve.

Steve who was bigger than Aidan, taller and more muscled, but his touch was light and he never grabbed at Tony like Aidan had. Tony heard a crunch and quickly moved to hug Steve, not wanting to see what was going on behind him and knowing that Steve could probably feel the way Tony was shaking.

“I’m taking Tony back, I’ll see you back home” Steve said and waited a beat for Clint to acknowledge his words before keeping Tony under his arm as he walked back to their car, an agent in the driver’s seat as Steve and Tony climbed in the back “Avengers’ Tower, I’m taking Stark back”

The agent just nodded before Steve blacked out the partition and turned off the microphone. That way when Tony finally broke down, no one but Steve was there to see it, no one heard the way Tony cried about how much he hated being near the men he had to target, hated being touched. Steve held his hand through it all and nodded along, the Captain had tried to find anyone but Tony to go undercover for this exact reason.

Steve knew how bad it hurt Tony to do these missions and he knew that it always brought back bad memories for him, that’s why he always tagged along and offered to take Tony home so he could have a safe pair of arms to cry into without fear of being judged for it… not matter what rubbish Howard had drummed into his head.

[plush-anon]

Happy Halloween Scooby Doo! Review

Muahahhhahahhahahaha! Thanks to the Walmart tradition of stocking movies for sale weeks before the intended release date, I have myself a copy of what claims to be Scooby Doo’s FIRST Halloween adventure!

…in spite of movies like Witch’s Ghost and Goblin King, holiday specials like WNSD’s A Scooby Doo Halloween (which had a haunted Scarecrow too…), BCSD’s EL Bandito (for Dia de los Muertos - obvs not the same, but most companies act like it) and Halloween, The NSDM’s Halloween Hassle at Dracula’s Castle, and the DTV short film Scooby Doo and the Spooky Scarecrow (which, ironically enough, did NOT take the opportunity to feature Dr. Jonathan Crane). 

So let us take a look now at Happy Halloween Scooby Doo! and see whether this film will be a graveyard smash of a treat, or a black licorice bomb of disappointment.

Full review (and SPOILERS TO GO WITH IT) are below the cut in my new review format; if all goes smoothly, I’ll go with this for future Scooby films.

WARNING: This review is very long.

One minor note before we begin: the Special Features actually include BCSD’s Halloween, WNSD’s A Scooby Doo Halloween, and PNSD’s Ghost Who’s Coming to Dinner

...so they were AWARE this was not the first Halloween adventure of the Scooby gang, and yet still use that tag line. Hm. 

Still, kudos for including them - this’ll help boost the reasons to keep this movie, if it turns out to be a real Milk Dud of a movie *ba-dum tish* :D

-----------

The movie starts off rather abruptly, actually - no slow pan over the setting, just WB Animation credit and BOOM, we’ve cut to a Halloween parade and Elvira is talking. 

I’m of a mixed opinion including Elvira on top of having Bill Nye and a Batman Rogue - while she most certainly fits the Scooby aesthetic, it doesn’t feel as grand an impact after her weird little cameo in Return to Zombie Island (ugh) and I’m not sure how well the movie will balance her in wait a minute

wait just a

WAIT A MINUTE

Did - did that parade float skeleton just sing Crystal Cove as the town’s name?

oh no. 

Oh No.

....also their song is terrible and they should feel terrible.

-------

Fred: We got him! Banh Mi Shop, second floor!

me: the heck is a Banh Mi Shop? *mild googling noises*

So I guess Jonathan Crane really had a craving for a Vietnamese sandwich before he enacted his Halloween scheme.

...you think he’s a lemongrass chicken type of guy or a BBQ pork guy? It’s always hard to guess at these things, esp when coffee and pumpkin spice aren’t on the table (as per fanon, of course)

-----

Velma: We have a flawless track record!

So I guess WB is just gonna ignore the past few DTV retcons established in 13 Ghosts and Return to Zombie Island?

I mean that rather defeats the purpose of them existing at all, but fcuk YEAH I can get behind throwing that retcon garbage out of canon!

And STAY OUT!!

------

Shaggy, talking about ghosts being real: I’m like the boy who cried wolf - I keep warning you but like, you won’t believe me until I finally get eaten!

Yet again, Warner Bros makes a wolf reference to Shaggy. Yet again, I am torn asunder between wanting werewolf!Shaggy in a new Scooby property, and fearing for the appearance of werewolf!Shaggy in a new Scooby property. 

-------

Velma: Point is, being afraid is a waste of time!

Scarecrow, LITERALLY EXPLODING THROUGH A BRICK WALL three buildings away:

------

He’s floating through the air and t-posing to assert his dominance 🤣🤣🤣

Gods bless animation 😁

------

Daphne @ Shag and Scoob locking themselves in the van: Are you serial?

Me: wait, SERIAL? *re-reads captions* yup, that says “serial”.  

Is this an editing mistake? I don’t think that works here…unless that’s supposed to be a joke on how they always do this. But then why would that be an irritating surprise, they literally do this EVERY episode 🙄

-------

Oh hey, Red Herring’s Party Screams truck has Red Herring running out of it

Could this be a hint to how the story goes? The villain appearing on a literal Red Herring?

Naaaaaah, WB’s not THAT smart

-------

So if we take @captainbaddecisions​​ crack theory on Jonathan Crane being Shaggy’s uncle seriously, does this mean that Jonathan is using magic to fly, float fear toxin orbs around himself, and making things explode, a la the family trait of Crack Theory A? 

Logically he’s probs using wires or magnets or some shit, but it’s a fun thought to entertain 😁

------

Welp, we finally get the opening credits! … with Jonathan Crane smashing through the Mystery Machine’s windshield, set to a slow poppy song straight from the 60s, and spewing the title of the film out in glittery pink mist.

All the while Scooby and Shaggy throw candy at each other, deliberately obtuse to the cloud of fear toxin enveloping their friends and the townsfolk, the steady destruction of the Mystery Machine they’re laying in as multiple cars crash into it and send it spiraling, and the general mayhem and destruction that Scarecrow is causing

Never change, guys, never change

--------

I just choked on my lemonade

There’s an article plastered to the roof of the Mystery Machine titled “Talking Dog Confounds, Ignites Ethics Debate Over Dog Labor”

ahahahahaha

-------

Annnnnnnnd there goes the Mystery Machine, tumbling in the air and over the roads with Shaggy and Scooby still inside without seat belts. Will they perish in this horrible road accident? Will Death finally come to claim them at last?

Of course not. This is Shaggy and Scooby we’re talking about - I’m almost positive they can survive anything up to and including a nuclear bomb. This is child’s play to them.

-------

So they “capture” Scarecrow… by pinning his cape to a tree with crossbow bolts. 

And they do not try to at least tie up his arms or his hands in ANY capacity. 

JUST the cape. 

...you know, Velma, for a team with a “flawless” track record, you guys are making a hecking TON of mistakes in facing against one of Batman’s ROGUES GALLERY, ESPECIALLY with no Batman in sight, good freakin’ grief. 😩

------

Yaaaaaaaaas, this Scarecrow design is LUSH

He’s got the lank, the height, the BTAS costume colors, the elongated face with beaky nose and pointed chin and angular cheekbones, the eyebags like Gucci, the furrowed brow… honestly the only thing missing is the more reddish color hair, and even that isn’t mandatory. I love 😍

Not to mention the HOT DAYUM voice he has - low and velvet rough and so godsdamned particular in a way that could either tie in to obscuring a southern accent as in fanon or just as a stringent academic, oh my yes. He’s voiced by someone called Dwight Schultz, who’s most well known for playing Captain ‘Howling Mad’ Murdock in the OG A-Team show, and someone called Reginald Barclay in Star Trek TNG and Voyager, if any of y’all know that character in particular. 

And of course, the first line he says is a delightfully wry “Oh, but I AM getting away with it,” with the sort of smirk that absolutely lends credence to why he’s a threat to Batman, and not some simpering wimp that can be defeated with some crossbow bolts in a tree.

I think I’m going to enjoy this movie at least somewhat, so long as we get to see him 🥰🥰🥰

(tho on a side note: Daphne why on EARTH are you trying to film Crane saying the meddling kids line? Do you have a video compilation of past villains who’ve done that, and you hope to add his to it? Was your phone damaged when you went up against the Riddler a few DTVs ago and you want a second shot at recording a Gotham Rogue saying it? Bc I don’t think a Gotham Rogue would be too pleased with seeing himself as a Mystery Meme on the Youtubes, you get what I’m saying?)

-------

Okay, so the floating orb things are explained away as fear toxin bomb drones somehow… despite looking nothing like the other drones and being much smaller with no visible propulsion, while also flying unassisted through and around objects to explode against places once flung…

(tho interesting note, none of them are aimed directly at the crowds, just behind them - odd, that)

But how did he heckin’ FLY at the beginning?

Yeah, they show him wearing wrist-mounted grappling hooks at the end of the intro song sequence, but they are NOWHERE IN SIGHT at the beginning - and I do mean in sight, since he emerges against a backdrop of flames. There was nothing there (see the T-pose above for further evidence), and nothing there when he FLEW THROUGH THE MYSTERY MACHINE’S WINDSHIELD AND FLEW BACK OUT AGAIN. And these things are pale silver, which stands out like crazy against the darker backgrounds, so no hand-wavy ‘they were always being used’ bullcrap we’ve seen in other movies. 

Hmmm *scribbles in notepad* note to self, add notation concerning Crack Theory A on magic!Shaggy to “Uncle Crane” theory files - evidence denotes that Crane is able to fly (or at least hover in mid-air unassisted) for terrorization purposes. May boost strength of CTA by family association, lending credence to magic inheritance along the bloodline...

------

“Avocado Toast Generation”? Crane, I honestly don’t know if you really mean that, or if you understand just how much that phrase gets under any Millennial/Gen Z kid’s skin. Having seen multiple variations of your character, it really could swing either way (tho kudos on the dead switch idea - very nice 👍🏻) 

Although this does lead to an interesting stand-off: Fred, upon seeing the town threatened with 3 days worth of fear toxin, immediately moves to let Crane go, while Velma stops him and refuses to consider compromising if it means Crane escapes.  They both look legitimately frustrated at the other for taking the stance they do. 

Fascinating~

------

Hmmm

Crane honey, I don’t know if your drones are made of flash paper and hope, or if Scooby and Shaggy are using the reeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaally old candy (the stuff made about ~3 years ago most neighborhoods give out to the teenagers that knock around midnight on Halloween) to shoot them down, but either way you may wish to speak with the manufacturer about this

Then again, this IS Shaggy and Scooby - they probably could’ve spat marshmallows at the drones and brought them down with equal success and explosions 

(and good on them for shooting those down! Atta boy 👍🏻)

-------

Aw dang it

1. They still have Crane captured and now in handcuffs (despite having… you know… NOT been bound by anything except cross bolts in his curtain cape thing)

2. Dwight Schultz has decided to pitch his voice higher and more nasally than what he has. Hopefully this is more of an incredulous sort of pitch than something that sticks for the rest of the movie, ugh.

Also, I think they’re framing the movie to be more Velma-centric this time around - she’s the one explaining to Crane how they tracked him down, apparently through a piece of fan mail he sent Elvira (is that the only reason she’s there? Also why was Velma examining random pieces of fan mail for toxins, Elvira probs gets hundreds a week irl) and it looks like they’re framing something up on how fear isn’t something you can pretend isn’t there. neat!

------

whajit

53rd? 

53rd?!?!

ONLY 53rd?!?!?!?!

Boooo, Scarecrow’s WAY more popular than that! I call foul

---

Okay why is Daphne’s schtick so far to spit laaaaaaame slang after every sentence Velma says

I would rather this not be her schtick

Actually could she go back to filming mystery stuff, bc at least I can pretend it’ll build into the OG Zombie Island Daphne

----

Phew, his voice has returned to its low, raspy goodness

also, Crane needs to learn about personal space, good grief

(interesting clue brought up tho - Crane only steals tech that CAN’T leak his toxin, ergo it can’t be tracked until he releases it. Sensible use, given that Batman probs tracks it if it does.)

----

Velma: I’m not afraid of you, Crane. Fear is an illogical reaction to an imagined threat. 

Crane:

-----

Crane: Fearless, then. Intelligent. Proud and stubborn. You remind me very much of the one person in this world I care about. 

uhhhhhh

Yourself? Harley? Edward Nygma? Ichabod the raven? Idk, I’m honestly curious as to where this thread will go 🤔🤔🤔

-----

Fred, leaning against the Mystery Machine: Guys, it’s gonna be okay. She told me!

O_o

Fred? Honey? Are you sure you weren’t supposed to join Crane in the transport vehicle back to Arkham? 

----

OH SWEET JESUS SHAGGY GREW YAOI HANDS

WHAT THE HECK 

THAT’S WAY MORE UNNERVING THEN YOU GUYS NOT BEING AFRAID ANYMORE

(although the fact that they’re both unsettled by NOT constantly shaking or having their heart racing is honestly kind of heartbreaking. Y’all need therapy, good grief)

----

Shaggy and Scooby just chewed up candy (wrapper and all) to make themselves a Halloween costume of… what looks like barfed-up candy (ew)

Before then proceeding to dance so well that everyone around them also starts dancing in a 60s-70s era rainbow light show and giving them candy

I worry for these two sometimes - that kind of power seems to be getting to their head 😬😬😬

---

Oh hey, acid green toxic waste is spilling from an 18-wheeler onto the Fear Toxin drones and emitting a purple pink haze that envelops a pumpkin patch! That won’t do anything suspicious at all I bet!

(wait is Poison Ivy going to come into this at some point)

(also major kudos to the music here - very 80s horror synth, I like)

----

So the Pumpkins have grown faces, limbs, consciousness, the ability to fly and a lust for human flesh

And they appear to be led by the Pumpkin King of the Pumpkin Patch mentioned in the Charlie Brown Halloween special

He’s not as friendly as I pictured him being, sadly 😕

---

Why is this random ass cop coming up to FD&V to say that they’re in over their heads… AFTER the mystery’s been solved?

Like dude, you’re only making yourself suspicious at this point, go home

----

Huh, interesting - the gang are being interviewed for a tv news network while they’re considered the town heroes

Why am I getting bad vibes from this…

Eh, it’s probably nothing

----

Velma: {Shaggy and Scooby} are, um… REALLY into the Halloween spirit. 

Shaggy: THIS ISN’T COSPLAY, VELMA!

I’m dying 😂

------

Holy Shit

Velma just snapped and went off on Shaggy and Scooby for acting scared and doing nothing to help wrap up the mystery

(even though these guys are the ONLY reason that the gang didn’t have to choose between setting Scarecrow free and poisoning the entire town for 3 days straight, but hey, what do I know - I’m just writing an in-depth reaction post to this movie and taking note of details like this, clearly I know nothing *eye roll*)

Last time I saw Velma critique the guys’ usual mystery solving shenanigans, it was much more low-key and without knowing they were nearby

But I’m sure that’s just a coincidence

------

What the

Bills?

Bills?!?!

Fred just mentioned that fixing the Mystery Machine was going to leave a hefty bill and that they may need to get dishwashing jobs to earn money

Which is more of a job you might expect a high schooler to get on the go and yet

They actually have to pay bills 

How old are they here??!

------

wait a tic

THIS is how they introduce Bill Nye?

He just calls up Velma with no explanation other than Velma saying “Oh hey, it’s Bill Nye!”

I just - what?!?!

How do you know him so well that he can just pull up your number and call you, and then geT YOU A NEW FREAKING CAR LIKE

WHAT?!?!?!?

Was there a Scooby episode with him in the past two years where the fcuk did this come from

------

Also the car is dressed like Bill Nye

And he can talk to the gang directly as the car

So that he can solve mysteries with them whenever he wants

This… this was not what I was expecting to come about from the Bill Nye cameo 

(alas, poor predictions of being Crane’s roommate, you will not come to pass this day) 😔

-------

Ooooo, purple haze throbbing on the horizon! That’s always a good sign of things to come! 😀

------

 And now Daphne’s… asking Elvira to mentor her fashion wise. And Elvira’s taking her on as her unpaid intern/personal assistant.

Yooo, movie, can you pick a direction and stick with it for Daphne? You’ve gone from her spewing outdated slang to wanting a costume for trick-or-treating, and now this. 

-------

Welp, now I can say I saw a giant pumpkin dog vore an old woman

I didn’t WANT to see that mind, but I guess I can say it now 😐

------

OH SHIT NO

IT TURNED HER INTO A FLYING PUMPKIN SHAPED LIKE HER FACE

ABSOLUTELY UNSETTLING, 0/10 WOULD NOT RECOMMEND

-------

At least we get a nice scene of Daphne kicking the pumpkins’ collective butt

Something normal

------

Elvira: WOW! You’re a regular Mary Sue!

*falls over cackling*

------

And now there’s a giant purple fissure opening up in the concrete to swallow the town of Crystal Cove whole 

(good, i whisper softly into the darkness of my living room. Let it fall)

--------

Man, I feel so bad for this single father right now

He’s gotten wrapped up in all of this nonsense with his daughter, and he is just Distraught at being chased by Jackal Lanterns, having the town collapsing under his feet, and having to gorge jump in his sedan to get away from the worst of it

It’s okay, Mike Dad - we would feel the same way in your shoes

-------

Hologram Bill Nye is wearing Cat ears and cat whiskers/nose, and is cleaning his hands like a cat cleans its paws

Why was this the movie we found out Bill Nye was a furry

Why Warner Bros 

Why would you inflict this upon us in a Scooby Doo-Scarecrow mystery

-------

Hey, can Jonathan Crane return now? The movie needs its dignity back. 

------

A clue on the whys here - the town was built on top of a MASSIVE lithium deposit, with the talks to mine it being scrapped due to environmental concerns. That’s actually a decent lead in for why some 

-------

Welp

The Jackal Lanterns just went full Mad Max with the Halloween Parade floats and cars

No, I don’t have any idea why either, just roll with it

-------

Nice, they confirmed that Fred’s full name is still Frederick Herman Jones XD

Also a great little action sequence with Daphne - while there’s not much movement, they frame the scene dynamically, with some good quick wordplay. Very nice. 

--------

Velma has a mind palace

Aight

--------

Velma: Shaggy, I could kiss you!

Oh, to hear this as a child, when I still hardcore shipped Shelma *sigh*

------

Oh thank gods we’re going back to Scarecrow again

------

Shaggy ate some Scooby Snacks, leapt out of a moving vehicle, and onto the backs of two flying pumpkins that he promptly reined in to fly to Crane’s prison transport

...yet again, I am amazed at the sentences I am led to type for Scooby Doo DTVs

------

Ah, how very Hannibal Lector of you, Jon 

Man, he actually looks very meek in normal clothes - red long-sleeved shirt and grey slacks

-----

Hmmm

So Crane ISN’T behind the Jackal Lanterns - in fact he’s outright befuddled by them. This means his whole spiel to Velma earlier about both of them being caught in the same trap was… metaphorical? The breakdown doesn’t actually go into WHY he thinks they’re in the same trap - Crane’s whole schtick is tied to accepting fear, not denying it, so why would they be the same?

Either way, someone is using both him and Mystery Inc to do something to Crystal Cove (please be Red Herring, please be Red Herring, please be Red Herring)

Actually, that reference at the beginning really WAS a red herring - they framed it as being Jon the whole time when it wasn’t. Kudos!

Additional kudos to having Jon be seen more out of mask than in - he is a looker, and I aim to look as much as I can ;)

-------

Annnnd Daphne’s now trying to convince Elvira to switch clothes with her

I don’t get it - how on earth did we get from Daphne trying to find a good costume for trick-or-treating to asking Elvira to switch oh there it is nevermind.

-----

There is literally a scene where a giant buzzsaw is slicing towards Crane

and he just

stares at it

going “huh, that’s different”

And I LOVE IT

------

And here we have another fascinating scene: Velma going to free Crane from his cell, as Daphne tells her to just leave him to die by pumpkin

I’m wondering if they meant to draw a parallel between the two here - Velma starts by reciting a nursery rhyme, then overcoming her fears in order to release madness to take control. It’s not done very cleanly - mainly bc we barely have any time with Crane in this movie - but I wonder if they meant to insinuate that Crane was like Velma once, where he refused to acknowledge he was afraid, which caused him to lose focus on his initial goals

Idk, ignore my ramblings

---

Crane, smirking: I’ll need my personal effects - extenuating circumstances.

Me, fanning myself: I’ll need you to remove yours first

(i am not even kidding, Crane is an absolute DILF in this movie and it flusters me. Stupid sexy animation)

---

YAAAAAAAAAAASSSSS

SCARECROW TO THE MOTHERFCUKING RESCUE BABY, SCYTHE AND FCUKING ALL!!!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

----

FCUK YEAH THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING

HE HAS A DANCE LIKE QUALITY WITH SOME OF HIS FIGHTING MOVES

VIOLENT DANCING BRINGS THE GIANT JACKAL LANTERN DOWN BABY

THEN HE BACKFLIPS AND GYMNASTIC SWINGS INTO THE VAN

ROCK IT SCARECROW FCUKING ROCK IT

(minor note here, but the subtitles show Dr. Crane instead of Scarecrow - unsure if that’s more that the movie calls him Dr Crane or if it indicates he’s acting more heroic than villainous)

---

GODDAMNIT

THE GIANT PUMPKIN SNUCK VINES INTO THE VAN AND STOLE HIM BACK 

WHEN CRANE WAS... wearing a seatbelt before, but isn’t now.

...

BOOOOO

---

Yet again, we find a Scooby movie that attempts character development, but with Velma

Unlike Shaggy’s Showdown however, I’m mixed on how successful it is.

For starters, Velma hasn’t been this cocksure in other DTVs we’ve seen, so it’s a bit odd to see it now. While not 100% out of place - after all, the gang DID capture one of Batman’s Rogues Gallery on their own - it still feels a touch forced. Compare that to Shaggy’s Showdown, where Shaggy has ALWAYS been a coward (one that, in more recent years, writers have had willing to abandon his friends for safety), so the character development there feels more natural. 

The progression of events with Velma actually work somewhat okay - but again, here’s where past DTVs come to bite them in the ass. The past handful have had the gang be wrong, have had them fail, or catch the wrong guy. This makes Velma’s attitude here at odds with the other films, something that sticks more due to a character that’s appeared in the past few films as a minor inconvenience - a Sheriff who keeps telling the gang not to interfere, they’re doing things wrong, etc. If this had been a character who was completely wrong in the past AND SHOWN TO BE WRONG FOR HIS OPINIONS, while the gang never guessed wrong, this would work much better. Unfortunately, it doesn’t, and here we are. 

I think it would have flowed better if Velma’s cockiness came solely from catching Crane on their own. Have a random cop character or reporter or whatever (just not the recurring cop), insinuate that the gang is in too deep with Scarecrow, that he should be handled by the adults or professionals or whatever. Velma could bristle, overcompensate, and THEN fall from her pedestal like we see, reach out to the gang and commiserate over feeling scared, and grow. Again, it’s not too far to reach for, but they handle it poorly; as a result, the outcome feels a little more shoehorned in. 

It’s an honest shame, bc we haven’t had a Velma centered story since Frankencreepy, and we all remember what a hideous fcuking mess THAT was *shudders*. Still, it somewhat gets its point across, I guess.

---

Fred why did you rip your shirt off

Actually better question why do you not have nipples

--- 

Awwwwwww

Velma just apologized to Shag and Scoob for snapping at them earlier, and admits how she doesn’t appreciate how much they make Mystery Inc what it is

Also she eats a Scooby Snack with them and admits they taste pretty good

----

Huh

Velma’s mind palace is the Mystery Machine driving through space

Also Shaggy and Scooby are able to telepathically follow her in and communicate with her

Literally, they actually followed her into her head telepathically, and show her their memories of things she hasn’t gotten to see tonight (while also possibly enhancing her ability to remember things, given how much DETAIL she captures perfectly of things that she would maybe have glimpsed in a millisecond AT MOST)

...another tally for Crack Theory A of magic! Shaggy and Scooby *scribbles*

-------

Fred, be very very thankful that there are no people operating those pumpkins in person cause uhhhh

Those traps would be spraying red instead of orange

------

Another weird music choice - the gang goes up to fight the Jackal Lanterns, but the music is the same 60s bubble we heard earlier 

Not terribly atmospheric, really

(wouldn’t a Smashing Pumpkins cover of Scooby Doo be more appropriate, or did you guys spend all your money on hiring Elvira and Bill Nye?)

------

Dang

Velma just admitted her fears and jumped into the mouth of the Mega Pumpkin, before getting Fred to use the app from earlier to shut it down, revealing it to be a giant drone surrounded by smaller pumpkin drones

This feels… counterintuitive, but I’ll try to explain at the end

---

Okay

I’ll admit it

The Whodunnit is actually pretty decent in concept

There was a sprinkling of tidbits that could be assembled for the final conclusion and still make a decent amount of sense, all to find the sheriff doing it 

Only he isn’t a sheriff

He’s a former Tech CEO who was also busted by the gang years ago in a case the Sheriff kept bringing up throughout the movie - due to his prison sentence, he lost more than half his wealth and the opportunity to expand it further with the Crystal Cove Lithium deposits

He was also someone who sold tech to Crane for his fear toxin distribution, where he got the idea to frame him for it

(tho on a side note, Crane is an absolute dork and a terrible liar - just look at the email he sent XD and that profile pic, my gods)

He deliberately picked at the gang for the past few DTVs (specifically 2: Return to Zombie Island and Curse of the 13th Ghost) to fracture their confidence, undermine them, etc - all so that in one fell swoop, he could retake his fortune, frighten everyone in town away from the mines so they couldn’t interfere, frighten away the gang (while also ruining their reputation as mystery solvers), and take Crane off the docket so he couldn’t identify the CEO when he pretended to be the sheriff

This… is actually a pretty damn good plan, for a Scooby villain. He was patient, manipulative, and clever, learning how best to tie up loose ends and win back what he lost. A clever revenge story that came so close to coming to fruition, and could have honestly been sold convincingly… 

...if it hadn’t been done so much better in Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed. 

Yeeeaaaah, this movie basically lifts the rough framework up from that one - past mystery villain comes back to attack the gang and ruin their reputation (tho this one decides to also make his fortune back and tie up loose ends with former criminal contacts, a la Crane). Gang is embarrassed in front of the news folk, another villain is framed for it (like Old Man Wickles of the Black Knight fame), and the gang must reconcile to foil the villain for good.

Although it also??? Merges elements of Frankencreepy in it?? The movie is focused on Velma, who is struggling to admit when she’s wrong (which ties into her fear, somehow… I’ll think on that point a little) and things purportedly go haywire when she won’t bend. This… isn’t illustrated as well here, since there’s very little direct cause-and-effect from Velma’s actions that would prove this point - that insisting her way is the right, best, and therefore only way to go ends up making things worse.  

As much as I despised Frankencreepy (and I DESPISED IT), it did do that part well - showing that refusing to budge on something can lead to you hurting your friends (literally, in that one), and that admitting you were wrong and need help isn’t the end of the world. 

(that movie also had former villains returning to gain vengeance upon the gang using psychological warfare, hm - may need to go over that one again, unfortunately).

It’s a shame, too -  the basic elements for this plot are all here, they just need to be polished and reworked a bit to make a really fascinating movie. 

------

Anyways, back to the asshat CEO who just… faked being a sheriff. Because white people can get away with that so long as they have the outfit and the car *throws up hands* (the sad part is this is probably something that actually happens)

As he drives away we see a familiar silhouette looming in the cornfields, watching him approach

Velma had Bill Nye on speaker, so he could record the entire confession for the federal officers nearby (who were taking Scarecrow back to Arkham), and track the phone signal to his exact location

And right as his holographic call cuts out, we see the shadow of a Scarecrow looming over him, causing him to scream.

When the feds arrive at his final location, both his body and the money have vanished. The car still sits, engine running, before the crows leering over him from the field vanish into the sky. 

-------

Now that he’s dead, the gang walks and finds themselves at a Halloween party, with friendly faces and good food. The mystery is solved, though the culprit may never be found again. 

Then Daphne admits to NOT trying to steal Elvira’s costume for Halloween, but instead trying to steal Elvira’s identity and replace her. 

Something that she’s apparently nearly gotten away with on past mysteries working with Phillis Diller

*sighs* movie, why couldn’t you just stick to the costume schtick? This is just… so much worse. 

-----

From there, Elvira walks off to wrap things up, reveal the monster face on the back of her head sans wig (which was also a monkey), and start the credits, where we see the gang working to bring the Mystery Machine back to its former glory a la Frankenstein pastiche. 

This movie… this movie is a hot mess, but at least it’s an OKAY hot mess. 

It really does feel like someone started writing a decent Velma-focused movie concerning the Scarecrow and a past Mystery Inc villain interfering, but was bogged down by notes from higher-ups: Wait! Write in Elvira! Also write in Bill Nye! Hey, let’s have a Mad Max car chase with the Jackal Lanterns! And have Daphne obsessed with literally becoming Elvira! Also make reference to things that we’ll insist be explained this way instead of a way that makes sense! Great!

(seriously tho, we never find out who Crane cares about most that reminds him of Velma, what the heck?)

It’s like two or three different scripts were smooshed together without being cleaned up - stuff is said that doesn’t get resolved, the celebrity guests don’t get to breathe much and feel squished together, and the build-up for the villain feels… less impactful, even knowing that he’s been in the past two films. 

It might have worked if he’d been in… let’s say like 5 or 6 DTVs in a row, speaking roles for dissing the gang growing in each (ex start with “Good job kids! But maybe next time, leave it to the professionals, okay?” and growing more bitter from there), but only 2 feels kind of meh. Still, I do appreciate the clues we got to collect together, and they all work in the final breakdown of the scheme - some DTVs can feel like they pull stuff completely out of nowhere, so kudos there. 

I appreciate what they wanted to do with Velma - give her a character development arc similar to Shaggy’s in Shaggy’s Showdown. Unfortunately, it wasn’t set up quite so neatly: they blended her ‘refusal to admit fear’ with her overconfidence that she was always right, and it led to a weird conclusion. To face her fears, she leapt into the Giant Pumpkin, which… proved that she was right all along about it being fake, and that solves things somehow. It doesn’t address how she can get something wrong sometimes, it doesn’t really address what she’s afraid of (which is honestly quite good: she’s afraid of failing in a way that allows bad guys to escape justice and in a way that hurts her friends), it’s just a bit of a mess. Points for aiming the focus the right way (and in a way that DOESN’T sexualize the underage teenage girl, unlike some DTVs cough cough Frankencreepy cough cough), but it’s very very messy how it goes about it. 

The movie actually balanced pretty well for the whole gang - no excessive focus on one leaving the rest in the dust (too much at least - Fred was a touch underdeveloped, but nowhere near as annoying as past iterations have been. Shaggy and Scooby were kind of meh in some places but great in others, while Daphne was just odd. I think they were trying to recapture the BCSD Daphne characterization, but they failed. Still, she did spend some good time kicking ass with the pumpkins, so that was fun.

Now for the Rogue, Jonathan Crane. If you like Crane, this movie gives you: maniacal Scarecrow, calm and creepy Crane, a brief glimpse at fanboy!Crane (he admits in his own awkward way that he’s a fan of Elvira, and later tells her he loves her work - it’s fun), and (best of all for me) a heroic Crane - one who helps the protagonists and ends up kicking ass pretty damn well, brief as it was. And while DILF Crane is always a treat, he feels underutilized in this. In comparison, Scooby Doo/Batman Brave and the Bold really utilized a lot of different aspects of Riddler, to the point he actually does feel pretty menacing by the third act. It’s a shame we don’t quite get that with Crane, but I do love seeing him 1. More out of mask, and 2. Acting as a good guy (in his own way), so he’s enjoyable on the whole. 

I kind of wish that the whole movie was spent more with Crane, but again, the script is a bit of a mess on this part - the fact that he’s not completely screwed over is a goddamn miracle. 

Elvira was… okay. She didn’t have much of a purpose beyond getting the plot started and giving Daphne some hooks to play off of. Bill Nye (abrupt as his introduction was) did provide some necessary elements to the mystery, as well as the tech; he wasn’t too bad by the end. (still a touch bitter we didn’t get ex roommate Nye, but hey, what can you do)

Humor was… mixed. Some good, some meh, but very few long enough to feel painful. Some bits felt extraneous at times, but they did help to build to the conclusion, so points for effort.

At the end of the day though, I’m probably keeping this more for Jonathan Crane than anyone else. It does have a lot of fanfic potential tho 🤔🤔🤔

That’s all from me tonight, folks! Hope you enjoyed my own little breakdown of the movie.