#because my coworkers were talking about true crime all day today

[visiosatanae]

I feel like horror movies shouldn't turn me on as much as they do...

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 24- Miguel x Chubby!Reader (Praise Kink)

*Requested by several readers ;) *

        Miguel was a very popular man. He was tall, fit and very sexy. There were a lot of women who tried to get Miguel's attention. Each one trying every kind of which way to get into his pants. None of them succeeded. You were Miguel's coworker at Alchemax. It was no lie to say that you were head over heels for the man; however, you felt like you were going to be like all the rest. Miguel was always so busy and never had time for anyone at work. You only got a few words in with him.

        There was also something else about Miguel that you were curious about. He would often disappear from his office, claiming to be working in his lab. You knew otherwise because you poked your head into his lab to find him. Miguel was always nowhere to be found. Whenever he went missing was when Spiderman was out fighting crime.

        Today was one of those days. This time you actually had paperwork to give to Miguel from your supervisor. You stood in front of his office, wondering when he would return. You lowered you head, hearing some of his coworkers talking. They were making fun of you. Out of all the girls who tried to get with Miguel, you were the only chubby one. It hurt. You had just as much of a chance as anyone else did. These guys were just being mean.

"Hm, (Y/N)? Were you waiting long?" Miguel asked as he opened his door. You flinched, caught off guard by his height,

"Um, no...I have this paperwork from my supervisor."

"Ah, right. I was waiting for those, come in." Miguel offered, opening the door to his office for you. You could feel your cheeks burn, "It's okay, I don't bite."

"Sorry,"

        You hurried into his office, still surprised that you actually were let in. Miguel watched as you stood in the middle of the room. His eyes were engraving every curve of your body. He was practically eye fucking you. Miguel offered you to sit and proceeded to give you a cup of coffee. You thanked him, placing the paperwork on the table. Miguel stood the seat beside you. He could sense your racing heart. You were so nervous, it was cute.

"So, (Y/N), are you seeing anyone?" He asked bluntly. Your eyes widen as your mouth went agape,

"N-NO! I-I mean, no...I'm not...Uh, why....why do you ask?" You were a stuttering mess, still shocked by the question. Miguel chuckled lowly,

"Because I want to take you out on a date."

        You nearly squeaked. You wanted to believe this was a dream, but you were fully awake. You were hesitant, but agreed to a date. Miguel gave you a time and day and offered to pick you up. You agreed and slowly left his office still in a frenzy. Part of you wanted to assume that this was a prank, but you were so happy. The one and only Miguel O'Hara had asked you out on a date. You were so excited.

-----------

        You had successfully been on a few dates with Miguel. He was so kind to you, it was a nice change of pace. Miguel always complemented you, despite your worries. You were always self cautious about your weight. So whenever you went on a date, you always took forever to pick out an outfit. Miguel was far too nice for you. Sometimes you still wondered if this was a prank. Miguel was too good to be true. 

        Right now, you were standing in front of Miguel's home. He had invited you over for dinner at his place and you were extremely nervous. You took about ten minutes before finally knocking. Miguel opened his door with a warm smile. You were hesitant, but entered. Miguel's eyes were all over you.

"You look beautiful," He said, spooking you.

"T-Thank you."

"Don't be so nervous, muñeca. (doll)" Miguel chuckled, grabbing your hand and leading you to the kitchen island. You huffed your cheeks slightly, wondering what he was calling you,

"I can't help it....You've been calling me that a lot...What does it mean?" You asked. Miguel stroked your cheek,

"Doll, you can search it up if you want." He noticed your hesitation, "You know you are beautiful,"

"You keep saying that."

        Miguel leaned down to kiss you. He grinned, watching your expression. Miguel loved praising you. You were a great distraction from his work life. From both jobs. Miguel held your chin, wanting to show you how much he cared about you. Giving you a plate, Miguel watched as you ate only a little bit. You always did. He sighed softly, wanting you to eat your fill. You said you were, but Miguel knew otherwise. He hummed, wanting to fill you up with something else.

        The two of you sat on the couch and just relaxed and watched a movie. Miguel had his arm over your shoulder, holding you close to him. This was sweet. You couldn't help but stare at him, admiring his features. Miguel noticed and stole a kiss from you. His large hand holding your cheek as he explored your mouth with his tongue. His other hand stroking your sides, giving your curves a nice squeeze. You whimpered, gently pulling away from him,

"Miguel..."

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, hovering over you on the couch, "You know you're beautiful, right?"

"B-But-"

"Shh, just let me know if you want to stop."

        You whimpered once more as Miguel kissed you feverishly. His hands all over your body. With ease, Miguel carried you from the couch to his bedroom. He could hear your heartbeat racing a mile a minute. You were nervous, yet wet. The scent of your arousal was turning Miguel on even more. Laying you on the bed, Miguel slid his hands under your dress. He wanted to feel every part of you. Your whimpers were cute, but he wanted to hear you moan.

        You moved your head as Miguel kept kissing your neck. He slid your dress off, causing you to yelp and cover yourself. Miguel moved you arms, holding them above your head. His tongue was tasting each part of you. He made swift work of your bra, groping your breasts. With a simple pinch of your nipple, Miguel finally heard you sweet moan. Oh, he was going to make sure you kept going.

        You felt embarrassed as Miguel sucked and played with your breasts. You have never felt this before. You gasped as Miguel's hand was now at your panties. His fingers rubbing against your clit. You tried to squirm, but he held your hips firmly in place.

"What's wrong, muñeca? Look at how lovely your body is reacting to me," Miguel groaned at the sight of you, "So fucking beautiful and all for me,"

"B-But-"

"Can't wait to finally taste you, my gorgeous muñeca,"

        You gasped as he removed your panties. Miguel leaned down and licked your clit while he entered a finger into your soaked pussy. You whined and moaned at the new sensation. Miguel was strong. He was holding you down while sucking on your sensitive bud. You felt a tight knot form, almost ready to burst. Miguel's finger was so big. He was stretching you out alone with his finger. It was hard to believe that this was happening.

"Taste so good. All for me," Miguel groaned, entering another finger, "Gotta get you ready for me. Voy a follar este hermoso coño tuyo. Voy a darle forma a tu coño a mi polla. todo para mi. (Going to fuck this beautiful pussy of yours. Going to shape your pussy to my dick. All for me)" 

        You weren't sure what he was saying, but Miguel was fucking you so good with his fingers. You body arched as he curled his fingers right against a sweet spot. The knot that you felt burst as you cam hard. Your pussy was clenching against his fingers, desperate for more. Miguel chuckled as you tried to move your hips against his hand. Miguel removed his fingers, licking them as he watched your pussy clench to nothing.

        He removed his pants and started to stroke his dick with your juices. Your eyes widen at his size. Was it going to fit. Miguel must have read your mind because he kissed you, rubbing his dick against your folds. You trembled under him as he kept toying with you. Miguel groaned as he spread your legs, placing them over his shoulders.

"W-Wait, aren't I-"

"Beautiful?" Miguel chuckled as he started to push his dick inside you, "Fuck, you're sucking me in faster than I'm giving you."

"A-Ah~ M-Mig..." You whined, squirming as he stretched you out.

        You cried softly as you felt his thick cock push its way inside you. Your mind grew hazy for a moment, still wondering if this was even happening. Miguel was handling you with ease as if you weigh as light as a feather. He kept complementing you and kept squeezing each fold of fat on your body. It made your heart flutter how loving he was. You gasped as you felt his tip hit your cervix, causing you to squirm under him. Miguel chuckled, grabbing your thick waist,

"Now, now, mami, look at you. The perfect women for me," Miguel groaned as he slowly pulled back, only to slap his dick back inside you, "Fuck, taking me all in. Such a fucking good girl, my beautiful muñeca."

"A-Ah~ M-Mig-"

"Your pussy keeps sucking me back in. Hn, so tight and just for me. Only I can have you." Miguel grunted as he slapped his hips into yours at a feverish pace, "So fucking good for me. So fucking cute. You're the only women for me, right (Y/N)?"

"Hah, y-yes," You moaned, reaching another orgasm, "Y-You're okay with my-"

"Shhh, don't degrade yourself," Miguel kissed you passionately as he slapped his cock deeper, releasing a heavy load, "Do you wanna know why I didn't date anyone else?"

"Mhpm," You nodded, shivering as he kept thrusting his dick inside you, pushing his cum back inside your womb.

"I only date the most beautiful girl in the world," He chuckled, watching you fluster, "Joder, puedo verte correrte contra mi polla toda la noche. (Fuck, I can watch you cum against my cock all night." He groaned.

        You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling your growing orgasm approaching again. Miguel easily picked you up, placing you on his lap as he continued to thrust into you. He loved watching you. Each part of your body was a favorite of his. Miguel hated how low you thought of yourself. He was going to have to fuck the idea out of your mind. He wanted to make sure you loved yourself as much as he loved you. Stroking your curves again, Miguel groaned as you cam against his dick,

"That's right, baby. Keep going," He nibbled on your tummy fat, "Lemme give you all of me."

'Miguel~!" You moaned out as he cam inside you again.

        Miguel fixed your hair as you leaned against him. He praised you for doing a good job and proceeded to carry you into the bathroom. His sweet words still echoing in your ear as he continued to praise you throughout the night.

[pbandjesse]

I am sitting in the bathtub at me and James's new house writing my post. I am wearing off of my clothes. I am just watching James finish the tiles on the bathroom floor. We have had another really productive night. And today was a pretty good day.

I just learned that today was the foggiest day in American history. And I am not surprised because it was in fact crazy foggy. It was spooky and I liked that.

I slept okay last night. I continue to have worked dreams. But it wasn't the worst sleep. James woke me up to let me know they were leaving a little early to try and beat the rain. But the rain would still get them. And then they got a flat tired and had to walk the rest of the way. I felt so bad. But they said they were okay and to not worry about them. But all I do is worry about them because I love them so much.

I would struggle this morning too though. I got up and I had an extreme pain in my eye. To the point I couldn't put any makeup on. I just did eye drops and blush. And thankfully the pain would pass halfway to work but Jesus it was not fun.

It was spooky out with the fog and that made the drive interesting. People were going very slow. Which is fair. I still made it to work just about 8.

It was not a very cold day. But all the snow was melting hardcore and so everything was wet and muddy. I had wanted to go for a walk but it was just a little to gross out.

So I worked on some drawing. And I worked on my schedules. And I worked on my programing. And it was just a really good and productive morning.

Everyone else would come in and I got to talk about Disney a bit. I had brought in all of the pins that me and Jess didn't care for and are planning on trading. I tried to find some of them on the forums and found some of them are from Tokyo Disney and Hong Kong. I offered my coworkers some because I have more then I'll ever need and everyone picked one. Including Joe, who put it directly on his jacket. It was a nice day.

I had my lunch but I was still hungry. And apparently I wasn't the only one because by the after noon Elizabeth and Sarah decided to order fancy pizza. So we had fancy pizza in the afternoon and it was honestly really great. We talked about documentaries we liked and true crime and it was just s really nice way to spend the day at work.

I also had a meeting with Alexi about the summer. I don't really feel like I said what I wanted to say. We mostly talked about issues I felt like were present and issues with how arts and crafts and the Early American program were handled. Staffing issues. But it was something and I always enjoy talking to Alexi so it was still nice.

And then it was basically the end of the day. I had had two deliveries and was very excited to meet James at the house to start building things.

The drive out was fine. I listened to music and got a little nostalgic. And pretty soon I was at our new house.

James would be behind me by 10 minutes. But by then I had already said hello to Victoria and Daisy and brought both boxes inside. Including the very heavy box with my new desk in it.

I even was able to end over and roll it and get it upstairs to the bedroom.

James came in right after I got it upstairs. And they were very surprised. I was so happy to see them. They have a little cough but were in good spirits. And would pretty quickly head back to the apartment to get some boxes.

While they were gone I just built and built. I was finishing up the desk as they texted me to let me know they accidently locked themselves out of the apartment. Ugh oh. But thankfully someone was able to let them in and they were back on track. And would be back to me very soon. And by the time they got back here I had finishes the desk! Amazing! I was so proud of myself.

It's a little taller then I thought so someday I may chop the legs down. But it's a beautiful color and I'm excited to have it all set up.

When James got back they muscled everything into the house. And while they were making their trips we were able to meet our neighbor on the other side. George! Seems like a lovely man. A little older then us. But seems friendly. Welcomed us to the neighborhood. I'm glad we have nice people around us.

While James got eveything inside I moved things to their proper rooms. James would trip on the stairs inside but they did not get hurt thankfully.

We would continue to have a productive evening. James would finish installing the kitchen floor. And I would help move the fridge so they could do the underneath part and it honestly looks amazing. We are going to get some floor edging like toy have in a doorway to make the ends look more finished but I think it was such a good choice and James did such a good job.

I would work on putting the brass knobs on the cabinets. I need some different bolts for 3 of them but all the others are replaced now and I love them. And we would get both medicine cabinets installed. With drywall anchors and everything. I'm very proud of all the work we are going even if it's a little exhausting.

James is finishing up with the bathroom tiles now. But we need another box. I accidently only bought 1 when I meant to get two. So we will have that tomorrow.

We will go home soon and get some rest. Tomorrow is another day at work. And then my vacation starts! I am very excited for Disney. I hope it's a really fun trip.

I hope you all have a great night and I hope you sleep well. Take care of yourselves. Goodnight!

[sleepingwithinkink2-0]

"Work day adventure"

Since becoming a supervisor. I'm never in the front lines at work.. Personally, I'm not good at small talk... Dislike the awkwardness.. Most of the time people are assholes...but today was fun...

Caffeine high,

the day dragged and yet slowed down.. I had a lot of fun.. The customers were great..

Took selfies with this lady, because she said I looked like Adam Lambert...

Talked to this older guy about the infinite possibilities of every action we are given. How our lives can alter dramatically even by a simple decision.... I listened to him talk about a big decision that could have alter his life, if he took it.. His regret..

The west coast, is so much different compared to the east coast...Who knew who he could have been...

Fascinating..

Talked about True Crime with this girl, about how monsters are created.. the psychological aspect .. Apparently we watch the same YouTube channels .

Met a guy that was a composer of an orchestra, his passion shinied in his eyes as he answered my questions. I told him lately I've been listening to classical music. I always wondered about the arm movements of a composer and how people in the orchestra know what to do..

Talked about space and all it's wonders and books with my coworker.

Oh and I did my first door dash, buffalo wild..

Have a good night and be safe.

07/8/24

-Danny Sheehan

[bisexualmormon]

04

I know this sounds dumb but I really hate the number four. I don’t like writing it, I don’t like looking at it, just not a fan of the number.

It’s been a bad week for me. Depression has been hitting really hard, and with me working long hours and not getting home until midnight, sometimes it takes a toll. Sometimes when I am at work and we can put on our own music (because the same generic coffeehouse radio day in and day out can grate on your nerves), I will put on a mix. Some of my coworkers call it musical whiplash. It goes wildly from different genre, especially when on shuffle. I put the Reading Rainbow theme on there as a joke to see if anyone noticed, and they did. It’s quite the hit. But something about 90′s club songs really helps. Really gets you grooving. But that doesn’t stop the intrusive thoughts at night. The ones telling you you aren’t good enough, that you aren’t good at your job, that you can’t do anything right. It’s hard fighting off invisible, non tangible threats. You grow up doing self defense classes (because I am a woman) and you know how best to save yourself from those that would do you harm. Physical harm.

No one really teaches you how to fight the emotional threats. 

Spiritual ones yes, that’s what the scriptures are for. That’s what prayers and conversations with god are for. But the emotional days when you are crying in your car on the drive home, the nights where you are unable to sleep in your own bed, where you can’t even take enjoyment from the things you love, that’s what they don’t teach you in school. Sometimes the shopping trips to target are good therapy the ones where you come home with two bags and $100 lighter in your pocket. But it only puts a small band aid on the problem. 

I was at work yesterday when my friend looked over to me and asked ‘are you ok?’. I really didn’t think that this simple question was going to break me like it did. I started breaking down and I happened to blame it on a patient that we lost and everyone understood. Everyone was ok with it. What I couldn’t tell them is that I am sad, that I’m hurting, that I have been hurting myself a lot lately. The pain reminds me that I’m alive, that it feels good to feel something that isn’t just constant sadness and anxiety. I lay in bed and night and I can feel my heart wanting to pound out of my chest and dance across the floor and go live a better life with someone else. But today I found comfort in such a small thing that the tears I am crying right now are not ones of sadness, but of relief. 

I have talked about this before but I have a terrible relationship with my father. Haven’t talked to him in over a year, I don’t keep contact with him and it’s for the best for both of us (yeah, it sucks but that’s another topic for another day). I do have a step-dad who I am close with. I joke with my mom that I might be his child because we both have an intense obsession with true crime. We swap new shows with one another all the time. We talk about cases constantly. We both followed the Lori Vallow case together really closely (didn’t help that he had a friend in the investigation who couldn’t tell us ANYTHING and we were just dying). He treats my mother so well, and he is a wonderful man. My sister and I were watching a show today and while it was sad and we were both crying, it was for two different reasons. She cried because of the show. 

I was crying because I was admitting to my mother over texts that I was breaking apart and self-harming. 

Hard to tell your mom these things when she made my body. Took her nine months and way too long to get me out and this is how I respect her? By causing cuts and welts across my body? Yeah, I was an absolute wreck (but so was my sister because Bill and Frank IYKYK). I asked if my step-dad could give me a father’s blessing. She said that he would love to but he was feeling sick and not awake so we could go see his parents instead. My step-dad has a step-dad who is a great guy, and very in tune with the spirit. I put on my clothes and went out to drive to my mom’s so she could drive me to the in-laws because we both knew I was going to be crying my eyes out after and driving was not in the cards for me with it being dark and me being a big fat baby. We lied and said it was the stress of my job that was killing me and I just needed a blessing to get through some rough times. 

Father’s blessings have been something I grew up with. My dad would give us one before the first day of school, he did it once before my brother had surgery, and I remember one time when I think my mom was really sick we gathered as a family. It’s always been a staple of my life and I just wanted that comfort. But obviously without a father or a male in the house that holds the priesthood, I’m SOL. Back when I was living in Utah I had my visiting teachers come and give me several blessings when I was at my lowest. I remember just not feeling the same way I did as a kid when I got my blessings, I didn’t have that rush, that feeling of the spirit. I don’t know if it was me or something else. I don’t think it was the brothers’ fault. They were great. They were there for me at times I was trying to end it all. But I didn’t feel that warmth that I wanted to have so badly. 

But when my pa blessed me today, there was this rush that came over me, and when I thought I was going to be crying my eyes out, because I am an emotional baby, I didn’t. It was this peace I have not felt in so long and all that sadness was tucked away for a moment. Pa reminded me that I am loved by so many people, and that everything is going to be ok. Just because I am feeling down right now doesn’t mean it’s going to stay. It’s ok to feel bad, doesn’t mean it’s going to stay that way. My mom recorded it for me, and so now I have this little treasure that I can have, my first father’s blessing (well step-step-grandfather’s blessing) that I have had in ten, fifteen years, and a comfort that is helping to fight back those annoying thoughts that refuse to stop.

It’s late, I got to get to bed. My kitten refuses to leave my hands alone and needs me to pet him. He keeps my hands occupied in bed when I am feeling those little urges to cause some pain. He’s a cute little turd. Even if he refuses to eat his own food and goes after everyone else’s food in the house.

Love you guys.

A.G.

[jungshookz]

that cashier game brought me on an idea... what about a grumpy yoongi as cashier and very clumsy y/n who likes him

i know this month is already a yoongi drabble month but i.,,.,. truly cannot resist writing about grumby yoobi :DDD

➺ pairing; cashier!yoongi x y/n 

➺ genre; yoongi is cocky and y/n is nervous what’s new 

➺ wordcount; 1045

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the original creator of course :-))

                                       »»————-　🛒　————-««

“well, well, well…” yoongi sighs, getting up from his creaky stool before slipping his phone into his back pocket, “look who it is.”

“yoongi!” you greet enthusiastically as if you’re surprised to see that it’s him standing behind the counter when you were the one who purposely lined up at his checkout station, “fancy seeing you here!”

“…fancy seeing me at my workplace?” he raises a brow, reaching over to tap his finger against the computer screen to wake it up, “if anything, i should be surprised to see you here.”

“what, like it’s weird for me to be buying food at a grocery store?” you snort as you begin to pile your things up onto the counter, “sorry i need to eat to survive-”

“no, that’s not the weird part — the weird part is that you bought, like, three bags worth of things yesterday and you’re already back for more.” yoongi points out with a shrug, leaning over to take a peek at the contents of your cart, “that’s all.”

“well, i just-” you pause at the realisation that, yes, your fridge is currently packed to the brim and you probably don’t have to go food-shopping for at least a month so it doesn’t make sense as to why you’re rolling up today with a cart full of food, “i… like to eat. is that such a crime?”

“touché.” yoongi hums, pausing to stick his hand out towards you 

you frown lightly as you stare down at his open palm, your eyes flickering to the side for a second before you raise your own arm and gently place your hand in his

oh

his hand is so soft… and so warm…

a second of silence ticks by before yoongi clears his throat and speaks up again: “this is nice, but i actually just need your rewards card.”

“oh!” you immediately pull your hand away, your cheeks flushing as you hurry to pull your backpack off your shoulder, “i knew that! i knew that, i was just- i was just playing with you, that’s all-” you chuckle nervously, fumbling through your wallet with buttery fingers before pulling the blue card out and plopping it onto yoongi’s palm, “here you go.”

“mhm.” yoongi slides it over the scanner with a beep! before handing it back to you, “hey, check out all those points! someone’s a shopaholic.”

“yeah, well-” you smile sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “food is good, so-”

“you bought one of these yesterday, didn’t you?” yoongi interrupts, dragging a family-sized box of cheerios over the scanner, “boy, you and your family must really like breakfast-”

“i live alone.” you blurt out, pressing your lips together immediately upon realising that it probably would’ve made you look better if you’d just played along with what yoongi was saying instead of now being reduced to a cereal-gobbling monster, “i… live alone.”

“ah.” yoongi nods in understanding, “so it’s just you who’s a big fan of breakfast-”

“it’s the most important meal of the day, after all-”

“mhm, give me a second-” yoongi turns to pull the microphone towards him before pushing the red button and leaning in, “yeah, could i get a price check on the magnum XL extra ribbed-for-her-pleasure condoms? just to be clear, that’s the magnum XL extra ribbed-for-her-pleasure condoms, item number 3-2-6-9-0-”

“no!” you gasp, reaching over to snatch the condoms out of yoongi’s hand before quickly tossing it back into the cart, “that- ha, i must’ve thrown those in there by accident, i don’t need those- i mean, not that i don’t need those, because safety is always a priority, but i just don’t need them because i’m not currently in a- in a position where i need them- like, i totally could be, don’t get me wrong, but i’m just choosing not to be-”

“never mind on the condoms.” yoongi clicks the button again before turning the microphone away from him and continuing to scan through your items with a smirk

look

it’s obvious that you like him — every time you come in here there are basically little pink hearts floating around your head

and it’s not that yoongi isn’t flattered (because he totally is) and that’s why he hasn’t called you out on it yet, he just likes the fact that it’s almost like he’s got you under a sick little spell

…what?? it’s not like he’s a bad person or anything, right? he’s just teasing!!

at first he thought you just really liked collecting points and that’s why you came so often, but then he started to notice that every time you were here, you’d only ever line up at his station even when the other ones had shorter lines

as a matter of fact there was one time that one of his coworkers was literally gesturing for you to come over to them and you stepped aside and let the person behind you go before happily skipping over to his station

even after that he thought that maybe he was being a little too cocky and assumed that you just preferred to have him check you out (ha) because he is a fantastic bagger, after all

but there was that one afternoon where you came in and he saw you grab ten packs of gummy worms before hurrying over to his station to check out and that was just... odd? 

it just seemed like you were willing to buy anything just to talk to him — so, yeah, it’s fairly obvious now that you like him

(and he must admit… you are definitely his type.)

“and… there’s your receipt.” yoongi hands you the flimsy sheet of paper with your card tucked underneath it, “you sure you don’t need those condoms? last chance.” he teases, smiling lightly when he notices your ears turning bright red

“yeah, i’m sure-” you cough, tucking your wallet back into your backpack before zipping it up, “i don’t know why you had to announce it to the entire store-”

“hey, i needed a price check! the box you grabbed had a scratchy bar code on it.” yoongi shrugs, pulling his phone out before plopping back down on his stool, “oh, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“see you tomorrow, you cereal killer.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this one!)

[navalcriminalimagines]

Lost self confidence

Anon: Can I request a lil one-shot where y/n has been on the team for a while and she put on some weight/starts feeling insecure about it and Gibbs helps her feel better? :> If not it's okay (Preferably a lot of fluff, angst & smut up to you)

Anon: Can I ask for a plus sized reader and gibbs please? I never see them :( Maybe someone says something about her weight when theyre working a case or something and he does the gibbs-legendary-elevator-conversation??? OuO

I thought those two requests work well together. Enjoy, lovely anons! ❤️

Warnings: punch, mention of blood, hurtful comments about weight

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra

~~~~~

Your body changed. A lot. More than you like to admit.

You have been avoiding mirrors for a while now, but as you stand in front of it right now, only dressed in underwear, you have to face it. Your body changed and you don’t like it. Actually, you hate it.

As you look at your stomach that used to be flat, your hips that are larger, the celulitis… you can’t help but to think it’s no wonder you’re alone. Who could you attract, looking like this? Not many people and definitely not the man you wish you had. He has probably noticed how your body is different. Maybe before, you stood a chance with the man but not anymore. It’s a lost cause.

You put some clothes on and left for work.

You and your team are working on a tricky case, you are not impatient to get into the office today. But as always, you put on your best smile and pretend that everything is okay. Even though it’s most definitely not.

You skipped breakfast this morning - on purpose - but when you sit at your desk, you can see a brown bag sitting there. You look inside; donuts. Not just regular donuts, but your two favorites.

“Gibbs’s treat.” Tony lets you know.

“What’s the occasion?” you casually answer, putting the bag aside. It’s definitely a bad idea to eat them.

“No occasion. You’re just his favorite,”

You can’t help but smile at this. Not that it’s true, but it feels nice anyway. Before, you would have been happy about your boss’s attention, but not today. “Aren’t you going to eat them?”

“I’m not hungry. Do you want them?”

Tony grabs the bag before you know it. At least, you won’t have to throw them away.

You put yourself into work quickly after. You need to take your mind off your insecurities and how bad you feel about yourself. Tony tries to make casual conversation, just being his old self but as you barely answer, he realizes that something’s wrong with you. He just doesn’t know what.

“You’re staring.” You say to him, without looking up from your computer screen.

“You’re in a bad mood.” He states.

“Am not.”

“Y/N, please.” He stands up from his desk and walks up to yours. “I’m a trained investigator. Talk to me.”

“Not a chance.” You keep working, avoiding eye contact. You’re scared that he may read into you, or worse; that you may cry if he starts to ask too many questions.

“Did Gibbs get the order wrong?” He jokes. He doesn’t mean wrong at all, but it sets you off.

“Just-- leave me alone, DiNozzo.”

You practically jump for your chair, grab your laptop and walk away from the bullpen, leaving your coworker in awe. He’s not sure what just happened, but he’s more convinced that something’s really not okay with you.

You spend the next two hours hiding in the conference room. You didn’t work much, you mostly cried and felt sorry for yourself. You really hate yourself and your body right now. It’s not about gaining some weight, it’s also about how lonely you feel. You love your team more than anything, they really are like your family but when you get home at night, it’s just you. You and your thoughts. You and your loneliness.

You just want someone to get home to. Someone to cuddle, someone to love and who loves you back, someone to fall asleep with. Just someone.

You had your face buried in your arms when you heard the door opening. You look up, ashamed. Gibbs is standing here.

He closes the door behind him and walks to you. “You okay, Y/N?” he softly asks.

“Y-yeah. Just a bit tired.”

“You know, if DiNozzo pissed you off, you can tell me.”

You chuckle. “Nah, it’s nothing he did. I guess I got up on the wrong foot this morning, that’s it.”

Gibbs did let it go - for now - but you knew he didn’t buy any of it.

That is later's concern though, there is some news on the case and you need to get going. The afternoon went better; your mind was focused on the case, you didn’t have time to think of the rest. It’s only when you get back home that it hits again. Before taking a shower, you put a sheet on the big mirror in your bedroom. You don’t want to face your reflection for now.

*****

The next morning, you are in a better mood. Not entirely, you still skipped breakfast and avoided all the mirrors but you made a decision: you won’t let the team know. You won’t let them see you’re going through a tough time. It would only make things worse.

Everything’s going okay until that stupid lawyer shows up. You never wanted to see him again after hooking up with him over a year ago. He seemed nice and good looking, he flirted with you the whole time he was in the office, so when he invited you for a drink, you said yes.

Your agreement had something to do with Gibbs’s flirting with that shrink but to this day, you keep telling yourself that it hadn’t.

After a few drinks, you let the lawyer kiss you and before you knew it, you took him home and you had a one night stand.

The sex wasn’t the problem, you actually had a lot of fun. The problem was the next day.

He was gone before you woke up - still not a problem. But when Gibbs yelled at you for giving him some private information, you understood your mistake. The man had used you. While you were sleeping, he looked into your files and found the information he needed to save his client’s butt.

After that, Gibbs gave you the silent treatment for weeks. And he stopped being mad at you after you came to see him in his basement and did your mea culpa. No one ever talked about it since.

But now, the same man is standing in the middle of the bullpen. You growled to yourself before going in.

You don’t greet him at all, just sit at your desk. “Y/N? That’s you?” he says, apparently shocked.

You look at him briefly and don’t answer.

“My god, what happened to you?” he adds.

“Excuse you?” you snap.

“God, if you had been looking like this last year, I wouldn’t have been able to use you.”

His sentence feels like a punch in your stomach, it hurts. But it shouldn’t and you know it. But it still does. You stay there a moment, not knowing if you want to cry and beat the crap out of him. Probably both at the same, but you don’t move or don’t say a thing, you’re like frozen. You barely don’t notice when Gibbs pushes the man towards the elevator.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziva asks.

In the elevator

“Overprotective much, Gibbs?” the lawyer tries to appear confident and unafraid. He has his back against the wall, and in a second, he can hear Gibbs’s fist hitting a few inches away from his head. If the fist had touched his nose, he probably would have needed plastic surgery.

“Ever in your life, you disrespect a woman like that again, and especially--especially not Y/N.”

The lawyer made many people angry over the years, but never had he seen a man as angry as Gibbs looks right now.

“The only reason my hand is in this wall and not your face right now, is because she wouldn’t want me to get in trouble, but trust me when I say that all I want to do right now is to shoot you right in your precious parts.”

Gibbs is panting from anger. He can’t remember the last time he said that many words at once. But there’s no way that he or anyone else can disrespect you like this. Never, under his watch.

“So I’m gonna be very clear, you give that case to someone else. I don’t give a shit who, you just do it. And I don’t ever want to see your face again. Cause if I do, you’ll be so disfigured, you won’t be able to get another woman. Ever.”

“I could sue you for those threats, Special Agent Gibbs.”

“Are you planning to?”

“Maybe I am.”

“Well, in that case--”

This time, Gibbs’s fist hit the nose.

Meanwhile, in the bullpen

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziva asks.

“Yeah-yeah,” you clearly lie as your eyes are watering.

Your coworker isn’t buying it. She takes a step forward and hugs you softly. “Please, don’t let him get to you.” she whispers in your ear. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Those words make you cry. You are not really buying them, but it does something to hear them. And you know deep inside that Ziva wouldn’t say something she doesn’t think.

As she keeps hugging, you can feel someone else’s arms wrapping around both of you. It’s Tony and shortly after, Tim is joining. “I think we should call Ducky. We’re going to have a crime scene.” Tony jokes to light the mood.

“I don’t want Gibbs to put himself in trouble for me.” you sadly say.

“Y/N, if Gibbs hadn’t taken him in the elevator, we would all have jumped on him.” Tim tells you. Which surprises you because Tim is the one to avoid a fight as much as he can.

“Also, the only reason I’m not asking you out is because of Rule 12.”

You are about to answer to Tony when you can hear the elevator’s doors opening. You let go of one another and watch Gibbs as he comes back to you and takes you by the hand. “Someone may have to call 911.” he tells the rest of the team.

Gibbs takes you to the other elevator, the one that leads to the lower floors, where Abby’s lab and Autopsy are. But of course, he switches the button as soon as the doors close. He doesn’t say a thing, he just hugs you tight. “Your hand is blue, Gibbs.” you cry in his neck.

“Yeah and his nose is red, who cares.” he kisses your hair. “I don’t want you to cry because of him, Y/N. And especially not because of what he said.”

“But Gibbs--”

“Not ‘but’, Y/N. Look at me.” he softly grabs your chin with his non-injured hand and forces you to look into his eyes. “You may not believe me right now, but you’re beautiful, Y/N. Sexy. Hot.” you uncontrollably shake your head, not buying a word he says. “I know I’m not the best with words, so I’ll let my actions speak.”

Gibbs ducks his head just a bit and closes the gap between his lips and yours. He softly kisses. You probably have never been kissed this softly before. Gibbs is so gentle and tender, his lips move slowly but expertedly. You’re literally melting under him.

The kiss may have lasted for minutes, hours, you don’t really know. You lost track of time, as if the world had stopped spinning.

“I’m sorry I waited for something like this to happen to do it. I’ve wanted this for a very long time, Y/N.”

“Me, too, Gibbs. But I’m not sure that’s the best time. I’ve lost all self confidence and--”

He kisses you again, undoubtedly to make you shut up. “I’ll help you find it again. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

You rest your forehead against his, some tears are still rolling down your cheeks. “You’re not bad with words.”

“I’m still better with touch.”

[tlbodine]

When the Timeline Split

2016 was a crazy year. 

My perspective on it, like anyone else’s, is colored and clouded by my own experiences, like the personal tragedy of an unexpected job loss. Things had been strange and bad in the world before, of course, an ebb and flow of tragedy. But four years ago, somehow the world shifted cataclysmically, irrevocably, into a dark new timeline. 

I remember early in the election assuming that the race would come between Hilary Clinton and Jeb Bush. I was not thrilled at the prospect. I was researching other candidates, taking the quiz I have relied on for previous elections, and discovered Bernie Sanders -- someone whose ideals aligned almost perfectly with my own, something I’d never seen before in a candidate. I didn’t know that “Democratic Socialist” was an option, but that sure as hell described me. 

And for a brief while, it looked like he might win. 

I remember the Idaho caucus. I remember the, “Holy shit, this could actually happen!” feeling. I indulged myself in imagining a future where all of the things I cared about were addressed -- socialized healthcare, student debt forgiveness and free education, green new deal, tax on the wealthy. 

It was the last time I have felt true and genuine hope. More than four years ago, today, was the last time I thought about the future and imagined it could be good. 

Donald Trump seemed like a joke candidate at first. Good for a laugh. Good for a meme. 

I remember the exact moment that changed for me. I was at the gym, a 6am workout before my commute. The news was on, the television above the treadmill, some morning show where they were talking ad nauseum about whatever new impropriety Trump had done. I thought: Holy shit, the media is going to hand this man the election. They cannot help themselves. He’s like catnip to them. They’re giving him all the free publicity in the world and he’s going to win because of it. 

And, of course, that’s exactly what happened. 

A rash of celebrities died in 2016: Alan Rickman, David Bowie, Gene Wilder, Prince, Ron Glass, Glen Frey -- many others besides. 

It became something of a dark joke. When Glen Frey died, everyone was posting "Hotel California" on social media in tribute. I was irritated (couldn't they have used one of the Eagles songs that Frey actually sang? "Take It Easy"? "Tequila Sunrise"? Come ON!). My best friend and coworker, who shared two hours of commute with me every day, decided that "Hotel California" was simply The Song You Played when a celebrity died. We played it with gentle irony for every celebrity death, even Fidel Castro. 

The celebrity deaths set a strange, grim tone for the year. We joked: They’re leaving before things get any worse. Eventually, we started to believe it. 

Mass shootings were reported seemingly every week, but all of them were dwarfed by then-record-breaking 49 deaths in Pulse Night Club, a hate crime of unfathomable size. 

But perhaps more than anything, 2016 was weird. 

Pepe the Frog, a cartoonish internet meme, became a Nazi dogwhistle. 

Bernie Sanders became an unwitting meme lord, probably with the help of 4chan trolls and Russian hackers. 

People reported sightings of scary clowns all over the country. 

Liberal friends started fighting each other out in the open on social media, and sometimes in person, during the most divisive primary election I’ve ever witnessed. 

The internet filled with conspiracy theories about Russia and Iran and inevitable war. 

“This is Fine Dog” became the rallying symbol of the year for many -- a dog cheerfully ignoring the room on fire around him. 

On May 28, 2016, a silverback gorilla named Harambe was fatally shot in a zoo after a child got into his enclosure. There was a brief ripple of genuine controversy surrounding the zookeeper’s decision. Some misanthropes wondered whether the life of a human was, necessarily, always more valuable than the life of an endangered gorilla. Fueled almost certainly by racism and the ironic edgelord culture of the internet, Harambe became a meme -- Justice for Harambe! Dicks out for Harambe! 

Given the backdrop of Black Lives Matter protests that had already been taking place across the country, and the ongoing murder of black people by police, it seems self-evident that the Harambe meme was a racist dogwhistle. Not everyone who shared it was probably aware of that -- but it had a meanness there at its center, a cruelty, the hint of a dark equivocation between a 17-year-old gorilla and, say, 17-year-old Trayvon Martin. 

In hindsight, for me, I think Harambe’s death was the moment when something in the fabric of our social reality snapped. 

Nothing so fully encapsulates the exact tenor of modern discourse -- irreverent, nihilistic, performative, and absurd. 

Of course the society that joked about a dead gorilla would elect Donald Trump as president. 

Today is May 28, 2020. Four years to the day since Harambe. 

Today is the third day of nationwide riots and looting as black communities protest the death of George Floyd, who was pinned by the neck to the ground for seven minutes by a police officer, while other officers looked on. Floyd’s abuse and death were captured on video, but the police have not been charged with any crime. 

Years of peaceful protest have amounted to nothing, and so things have reached a fever pitch. As we speak, a police precinct in Minneapolis is on fire. 

It is May 28, 2020, and 100,000 Americans have died from a global pandemic.  40 million people are out of work. The country was brought to a halt, shutting down helter-skelter in an attempt to keep people safe, and no long-term plan was enacted during that period for re-opening. People return to work now, putting themselves in danger. 

The president refuses to acknowledge these deaths in any meaningful way. He complains, instead, that this pandemic is unfairly hurting his campaign. He claims that no one has been treated more unfairly. 

Black people make up 13% of the population but represent 25% of deaths from the Covid-19 pandemic. 

Today is May 28, 2020, in the midst of the deadliest pandemic in a century, with nationwide protests and riots, and President Donald Trump signed an executive order to threaten social media, because Twitter put a “fact check” link beneath one of his tweets. 

[pascalpanic]

"You made these cupcakes for me?" With Marcus Pike. Because giving people baked goods is a perk of knowing me 😃

Cupcake (Marcus Pike x Reader)

summary: you’re having a bad day. your boyfriend, Marcus Pike, will not allow his cupcake to feel so shitty.

warnings: like, a single use of fuck. reader’s just having a bad day. some tears, mentions of food. tooth-decaying fluff. 

w/c: 1.1k

a/n: this shit hurts my heart bc it’s so soft. I just want Marcus Pike to call me cupcake is that too much to ask?? Mandy this prompt was so cute I’m so glad u requested it ✨🥰🧁

Marcus Pike is the perfect boyfriend, you have to admit. Not a day goes by without some kind gesture from the man you love, whether that’s a phone call just to hear your voice or a bouquet of flowers waiting for you in your apartment when you came home from work.

Not only is the man wonderful at gestures, but he’s nearly sickeningly affectionate. Marcus loves to hug you from behind, nuzzling his face into your neck and murmuring affirmations of his love. He’s got lots of nicknames for you: babe, baby, lover, cutie, and his personal favorite- cupcake.

It’s been a few months that you’ve been dating Marcus now, and every moment around him is nearly perfect. The issue arises, then, when you’re apart. Marcus is a busy man, especially with his job as head of the Art Crimes Department of the literal FBI. You’re busy too, with a full-time job and an apartment completely on the opposite side of DC. 

Work today was a total pain in the ass. Marcus may be busy, but he always finds time to answer your calls. It’s a pact the two of you had made- if the other calls, you pick up. Both of you are often in need of reassurance and a little love from the other. That’s what prompts you to step into the bathroom with your cell phone halfway through a godawful day. You call him at his desk line, knowing the caller ID will display your name.

The phone rings twice before Marcus picks up. “Hey Cupcake,” he hums happily. “How’s your day going?”

“Bad,” you sniffle as you lock yourself in a stall. 

His heart breaks at the tone in your voice. “Oh, honey.” You can hear the frown on his face. “What’s wrong? Tell me all about it.”

He’s so kind. So perfect. “I don’t deserve you,” you whimper before the tears start running down your face, a broken sob choking out from your throat.

“No, no, baby,” he assures. “Just tell me about your day. Talk to me, love.”

You nod and swallow hard, trying to compose your voice. “My alarm didn’t go off this morning, so I woke up late and rushed to work. My boss was already pissed so she chewed me out. There’s an important document she needed me to sign and I spilled my coffee on it,” you mumble, pulling yourself tight against the corner of the stall. “Now I’ve been working and it feels like all my coworkers know that I’m the reason Marcy is mad,” you admit, “even though they probably don’t and I’m probably just overreacting.”

“It’s all okay, baby,” he assures you, his mellow voice like music through the tinny speaker of your phone. “It’s all gonna be alright. Marcy can’t be that mad.”

“I don’t even know. I haven’t seen her since I asked her for another copy of the document, since it was covered in a fucking mocha.”

He gives a soft chuckle. “Aw, I’m sorry babe. What’s the rest of the day look like?” He asks.

“Nothing interesting or good. Just more work, and then we have a quick meeting before we leave. Are you working late tonight?” 

A plan formulates in Marcus’s mind. He knows right now you won’t like it, but it’ll bring you lots of happiness later. “Yeah, I am,” he bluffs convincingly. 

You believe it, pouting a little. “Damn.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, honey. Listen, I promise I’ll make it up to you soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Are you craving anything?” He asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “Something sweet sounds nice, but not now.”

“Are you sure? I’ll Doordash something to your office for you.”

You finally give a smile. “No, that’s okay, babe. Head back to work. I love you.”

“I love you too, Cupcake. Keep your head up.” He hangs up.

You sigh and lean your head back against the wall of the stall. Today is only going to get better, even if you don’t know it yet.

-

The rest of the work day passes by in a grueling and slow manner. Every little task seems to take hours, even if it’s only two minutes. It’s tiring.

All you really want is Marcus. For him to wrap you in his arms and kiss your head and tell you everything is going to be alright, because for some reason it’s always true when he says it. But he’s working, you know that. You sigh as you take the subway home from work, nearly falling asleep on the surprisingly quiet train. 

When you get home, you sigh and unlock the door to your apartment. You kick off your shoes only to notice another pair, a pair that’s most definitely not yours. They’re bigger than your feet are- “Marcus?” You call out into the apartment.

“Yeah, baby,” he shouts back, and your tired expression turns into a grin. 

“I thought you were supposed to be working late tonight!” You say, your entire body perking up. 

“Lisbon covered for me,” he says as he walks out of your kitchen, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. “Go get into some cozy clothes and meet me in here, alright?” He orders gently as he looks at how tired your eyes are.

You nod and obey, trudging off to your room and changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt as well. The weight of the day seems lifted from your shoulders, or at least considerably lightened. You walk back to the kitchen and gasp as you see what’s waiting for you.

The table is set for dinner, but in the middle is a lit candle (your favorite scent), and a tray of messy-looking cupcakes. “You said you wanted something sweet,” he says with a shy grin, pulling out a chair for you.

“You made these cupcakes for me?” You ask, eyes watering and lower lip sticking out in a pout. 

Marcus nods. “They’re really ugly, I know. I didn’t have anything good to put the frosting on there with, and honestly the sprinkles might be expired, but-”

You cut Marcus off by cupping his face and kissing him gently, the corners of your lips tugged up in a smile. You break away and throw your arms around him. He’s beautifully built, clearly muscular but slightly soft and the best for hugs. “Thank you, Marcus,” you murmur as the tears spill from your eyes and into his t-shirt.

“Anything for you, Cupcake.” -

Hope you enjoyed!

pls note my requests are open at any time!! you can always just send me a line you like and a character, doesn’t have to be from a specific prompt list or anything!!

[theravenclawrevolutionary]

i'm not a frev expert. and you seem to be approchable enough and to have read enough. i had a question, or kind of a question. i just. i think that if robespierre wasn't against all the deaths by guillotine, he wouldn't have written that quote about virtue and terror. maybe i'm getting you wrong, or i'm not understanding the sense of that quote. could you explain?

Oh dang. I'm kinda surprised that people think I have any real authority on the subject of the Frev since I'm not an actual historian or anything and I'm surprised people find me approachable but of course I'll try my best for you Anon! And if anyone else has a better interpretation or anything else to add please, go ahead. I'll also try my best to keep it in as simple language as I can. But I digress.

⚠ This post is quite long so be prepared for that ⚠

First of all, Robespierre has more than one quote talking about terror and virtue. I'm assuming that you're thinking of the one that goes, "Terror is only justice: prompt, severe and inflexible; it is then an emanation of virtue; it is less a distinct principle than a natural consequence of the general principle of democracy, applied to the most pressing wants of the country." since that is the most common one. However, if you're talking about the one that goes "Terror is only justice: prompt, severe and inflexible; it is then an emanation of virtue; it is less a distinct principle than a natural consequence of the general principle of democracy, applied to the most pressing wants of the country." Let me know and I'll write about that one. The former is definitely a quote that, in my experience studying the Frev, gets misinterpreted from what it was originally meant to say fairly often.

To start with, it's very important to know what connotation and definition the words 'virtue' and 'terror' had in revolution-era France. Modern-day definitions may not be the same ones that were used in the past. According to my research, which of course isn't infallible, virtue was used to refer to someone's disposition and the way it would lead them to choose good over evil whereas where terror was seen simply as great fear. At the time there was no connotation of our modern-day terrorism to associate with the word. Nowadays we associate terror with terrorism which brings to mind murder, mindless destruction, oppression, and unchecked authority in which someone's ideals are forced upon large groups of people. Because of this many people assume that this is what Robespierre had in mind when he referenced terror when really he meant to describe the use of intimidation tactics to seize power from those who oppressed the lower class people and the general fear that was felt by the commoners.

Essentially the Reign of Terror meant 'a time period where everyone felt a sh*t load of Fear over all the bad stuff happening at once while the regular people try to overthrow the oppressive ruling class with intimidation tactics.' It does not mean 'a time period where loads of people were purposely committing widespread acts of terrorism to push their agendas'. And really, it was the only way to give everyone the chance to get rid of the old government, the monarchy, and allow a fair democracy that would be beneficial to the future of France to be built.

Next, it's important to know the context in which this quote was originally said. The speech where Robespierre said it took place on Feb 5th (?) of 1794. By this point, the revolution has been well underway for several long years and, as I said, a lot of sucky things are happening at the same time. The republic was in a war with a massive part of Europe and they're kinda getting curb-stomped. The country is in a state of civil war between the people that still supported the monarchy and all the different groups that had different views of how the country should be run. France's economy was complete sh*t too, so all this really radicalized the people and made the whole revolution situation so much worse than it already was.

At the time there were two factions, so to say, in the National Convention that were hella pissed at each other and really at odds. the Hébertists (who, to make things easy, wanted to escalate the Terror, go on the offensive with the military, and the overthrow and replace some of the existing government structures at the time) and the Dantonists (who wanted to sorta get rid of the revolutionary government, negotiate for peace in the war, and chill out on the whole Terror thing). And remember that these groups of people were very loose and like people in today's politic didn't agree with every stance their 'faction' took.

By the time Max made this speech, which was addressing these two groups, the situation between them was escalated big time. The Hébertists, with their views of 'more terror all over! That'll help us win everything,' or 'terror without virtue,' were pushing for a system that would quickly prove fatal. By contrast, the Dantonists with their, 'we just need to kinda chill and things will work out,' way of thinking or 'virtue without terror', would only lead to them (and the rest of the country) getting walked over by everyone else.

Throughout the entire speech, a speech I haven't recently read all the way through, Max comes back to the idea of terror and virtue, stressing that both are necessary. What I think he meant to do was talk about how the revolution couldn't survive without both terror (fear and the aggression that causes it) and virtue (the choice of good over evil) being applied. He's trying to explain to both groups that a little bit of both ideals is the most beneficial way to go about things. In reality, it has nothing to do with whether he personally believed in or advocated the death penalty/ the use of the guillotine. Instead, Robespierre is emphasizing that at that particular moment in time doing what is right and good (virtue) will most likely end up causing some bad things that will make people afraid for a while (terror).

What Robespierre is not saying is that terror, and by extension the violence that is causing the terror is virtuous. There are several easy-to-find sources that prove his personal disapproval of the death penalty from a moral standpoint. As a young lawyer in his hometown in Arras, he became physically ill at the idea of having one of his clients sentenced to death, even though he was found guilty of the crime he was on trial for. He made a speech agreeing with the abolition of the death penalty on May 30th of 1791 (?) arguing that there is no place for the death penalty in a civilized society because the law needs to be a model of what is good. He attempted to save the lives of Georges Danton and Camille Desmoulins, two friends/coworkers that he is commonly charged with sending to their deaths when the opposite is actually true. Additionally, he did the same with other more controversial people including the king's sister of all people, Madame Elisabeth. Even when voting for the death of the king he reiterates his own opinion on the death penalty saying, "For myself, I abhor the penalty of death that your law so liberally imposes, and I have neither love nor hatred for the King; it is only the crimes that I hate…. It is with regret that I utter this baneful truth…Louis must die in order that our country may live." Though it conflicts with his personal views, Robespierre makes the decision based on the needs of France as a country, something that many politicians need to relearn how to do today.

Long story short, he was not supporting the use of the guillotine with that quote, but rather trying to get two opposing factions to realize that both intimidation/fear and making sound, beneficial decisions would keep France on the right track to building a successful democracy for the people. Hopefully this helped and I explained it in a way that was easy for you to understand. If you ever have any more Frev related questions feel free to ask and I'll do my best to answer or I'll send you in the direction of someone else more knowledgeable if I don't know.

Also, can someone tell me if I did a good job of explaining this? I can never tell if things I write about the Frev make sense to me because I actually know exactly what I mean to say so everyone else kinda goes along with it or if I actually say helpful things of substance. Thanks guys! And if anyone else knows more about the subject or if I've made a mistake please help me out.

~Dara

[dani-escribe]

A Place To Call Home

Chapter 1 

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F! Reader 

Wordcount: 1,594 

Summary:  Who would have known that a day at the art museum could lead to meeting an extremely handsome FBI Agent ;)

Warnings:  An incredible amount of fluff (seriously, like cotton candy level). SLOW BURN (buckle up for the ride!). Reader is a pediatric nurse, so a few mentions of kids and medical procedures in later chapters. 

A/N:  Thanks so much for reading and I really hope you like it! This is my comeback into writing and I am honestly so excited to keep writing this series. After watching the Mentalist and seeing how it ended I wanted to give our precious Marcus a happy ending (this is totally self-indulgent bc why not!). I want to thank @lowlights @fastandfeminist @wbl75 for being my beta readers and for all of their support. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! :) 

Read here on ao3 

You didn't know what possessed you to go visit the art museum on a rainy Wednesday afternoon, but you’re sure glad you went. You hadn't really had time to go to many museums in the last couple of years and wanted to really take in the experience. You’d been walking around looking at all of the intricate paintings and reading the descriptions of each one to try to understand what they were about when you saw a man that fit right in with the artwork. His pensive stance and deep brown eyes drew you in right away. 

He was reading the description of the painting in front of him. He let out a short stifled laugh as if he knew something more about the painting that wasn't included in the description. The grey suit and black tie he was wearing made you wonder if he might be here on a date with someone or if he worked here. You were truly hoping that it was the latter of the two.

 When you noticed that you had been staring at him for a creepy amount of time, you started to turn away, and in that exact moment he seemed to catch your eye. The way that he smiled made it seem like the world stopped for a short second. Before your flirty gaze turned into an awkward stare, you gave him a smile back and retreated to look at other artwork. 

Walking around the other exhibits and looking at the sculptures and canvases from different time periods you began to think about all the wonders that you missed moving around as a kid. Your parents were teachers/potters and their jobs came with the occasional relocation to different places. They said that while teaching was their passion, ceramics had been their first true love. This meant that while you were usually in a stable place for a few years, during summer you and your sibling moved around with them to sell their art in different fairs. While you had seen and sold a lot of different types of art over the years, you never really had much time to appreciate it. 

Your parents had been incredible in providing for you, and had only moved to ensure you had the best opportunities; but you always wondered about the experiences that you missed while being in a hurry to assimilate for half of your life. You knew that their teaching jobs didn't pay much, and that they used the money they got from their art to help cover the bills. This is why you had decided to move close to your family after starting a job at a local hospital in order to find a permanent place for yourself, a place that you could call home. 

After making sure to see all of the exhibits at least once, you walked out of the museum with a sense of satisfaction: one, because you felt like you were catching up on lost time, and two, because of the interaction that you had had with a handsome stranger. 

One of the best things was that the drive back to your new apartment from the museum, and pretty much everything else, was only about 5 minutes (10 if you counted traffic during rush hour). This also meant that everything was within walkable distance, which was also good because you sure as hell needed to start buying some supplies if you were going to clean up the pile of unpacked boxes at your new apartment. 

As the night went on you were able to get most of your unpacking done, and you thought back to the stranger with those big brown eyes and gorgeous smile. He had a kind smile, one that made you feel like you could trust him, which was rare in a man you had just met. God, not only that but the suit that he had on made him seem like he was straight out of a James Bond movie. While putting away the last of your clothing, the blue scrubs that you had bought for your new job fell from the pile that you were carrying. This was enough to snap you out of your train of thought. You really needed to focus on thinking about that instead of daydreaming about a person you haven't even talked to, even if he had some of the cutest dimples you had seen. After trying to get him out of your thoughts unsuccessfully, you figured that it was either stressing about your new job or thinking about him. Ultimately you decided that a little daydreaming couldn't hurt too much. You wondered if you would ever see him again, and hoped that by some twist of fate you would. 

--- 

With your job starting today you figured it would be a sign of good comradery to bring your new coworkers some coffee from the cute diner down the street. Also, you found social interactions to be quite tricky at first and an ice breaker couldn't seem to hurt. Plus who doesn't like free breakfast, especially on a Monday morning right? 

As you got dressed in your blue scrubs you headed for the door a whole hour early to avoid being late and to try to make a good impression. Making sure to note as you entered the diner to grab some scones or muffins for those who don’t like coffee, you accidentally stumbled into the man exiting with his coffee. The splash drenched his tie and shirt, only leaving his pants unscathed. Starting to profusely apologize and grabbing a handful of napkins to clean up the mess, you almost missed the fact that the brown eyes that were looking at you right now were the same ones that had held your gaze in the museum. 

“I am so sorry, I can totally pay for your dry cleaning,” you gasped, both out of embarrassment and amazement that you were seeing the gorgeous stranger that had plagued your mind for the past couple of days. 

“No worries at all. I actually needed an excuse to get out of wearing this tie that I got as a gift last year, so to think of it you really saved me,” he let out a chuckle. Now that you're looking at it, it is a very… bold choice of clothing. It was a striped neon tie with pink and orange interchanging lines. 

“I got it as an office exchange party gift and now have the perfect excuse to change out of it.” Those killer dimples were showing along with the smile he gave you that helped to put you at ease. 

“Well at least let me replace your coffee,” you said with a laugh at his honesty. 

You went back inside to pay for his and your coffee orders and got to talking a bit before your orders were out. 

“So what brings you around here, besides the coffee of course. I haven't really seen you here before,” he stated as he moved slightly closer to hear your answer over the clinking of cutlery and dishes. 

“Oh I actually just moved near here. I’m starting today at the nearby hospital as a pediatric nurse. ” His proximity made you suddenly aware of how tall he was. He had at least a few good inches on you, and he leaned in to listen when you spoke. This didn’t help with your already flustered state to say the least. 

“That sounds really exciting, congrats! The closest I get with kids at my job is the ones on an oil painting,” his eyes crinkled a bit as he laughed. 

“Yeah, I totally understand. Little kids are such a wonder but working with them is not for everyone,” you chimed in with a bit of a laugh “Are you a curator then, is that why you were at the museum the other day?” You asked with a hope that he hadn't been there with anyone as a date. 

“Oh no, I actually work with the FBI. I’m in the art crimes division. I was doing research on a new case which is why I was down in the museum. Some inspiration never hurts.” Now it was your turn to be amazed. You didn’t actually think he would be an agent like James Bond, but you weren’t complaining. 

“I guess it doesn't hurt that it's really close to here too huh.” You added noting that it was a bit serendipitous to have met him twice in a few days within the same five mile radius. 

Just as you were about to say something else your name was called and your orders came out. When you were about to turn to leave he called to you. 

“I never did get your name,” he noted before heading out. 

You told him your name and he repeated it in a way that made it seem like he was trying it out. 

“And I feel like the least I can do is learn the name of the person who I so viciously attacked with a coffee cup.” You stated as you gave him a sheepish smile.  

He let out a short laugh and replied, “The name of the person who you saved from having to continue wearing a highlighter tie is Marcus.” You shook your head at his joke and turned to leave. 

As you grabbed the door handle you took one last look back and said “hope to see you around, Marcus.” You waved and parted ways to head in for your first day of work.

[sunlit-squid]

I don't care about everyone else! i care about you, SQUIDWARD! (simping softness asks)

For those who don’t know, my ask box is open. Send me a simping softness prompt, and I’ll write a short sbsp ficlet for you. ✰

so, uh -- i might have gotten a bit carried away with this prompt. it’s definitely longer than a ficlet, but oh well. either way, it was a lot of fun to write! selfish spongebob is so rarely explored.

fic under the cut. also, just in case, cw: drinking, drunkenness, etc.

Spongebob rose bright and early, long before his foghorn alarm went off at 7:00 a.m. With a cheerful shout, the poriferan jumped out of bed, earning a disgruntled “mrow” from Gary, who was still asleep nearby. Stretching vigorously, the sponge leaned down, planting a soft kiss atop the snail’s shell.

“Gary,” he whispered, practically vibrating with excitement. “Today’s the day!”

Turning away, Gary simply replied “mrow”, in a disdainful way that most certainly meant “whatever.”

Undeterred, Spongebob ran to his calendar. Sure enough, the day’s date -- July 14th -- was circled in bright-red, permanent marker, with the words “My birthday!” written neatly across it. And just below those words, was a tiny drawing of Squidward’s face, with dozens of little red hearts surrounding it.

Making his way over to the window, Spongebob gazed out at Squidward’s moai in the distance. He sighed, dreamily. What was Squidward doing right now? Probably sleeping, in that adorable dress of his.

The sponge lingered there, staring dazedly out at the moai, for perhaps a moment too long. Then, remembering himself, he sprinted to the bathroom. Once inside, Spongebob pointed a finger at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Enough beating around the bush, Mr. Squarepants!” he yelled -- much to Gary’s annoyance. The sponge lowered his voice down to a soft whisper. “Today, you tell him how you feel.”

His reflection simply shrugged. “I mean, okay,” it said. “But this is like, the 57th time you’ve said this.”

“Oh, shush.”

-0-

The party was supposed to start at 6:30, but Spongebob, in a manic cleaning fit, had the entire house ready by noon. This year, the party was themed around As The Tide Turns, a very polarizing-but-popular soap opera, especially in Bikini Bottom. If you were a Bikini Bottomite, you either watched the show genuinely, or ironically -- there was absolutely no in-between.

Spongebob and Squidward both genuinely enjoyed the show. It was one of the first things they bonded over, back when Spongebob started working at the Krusty Krab. Through the window to the galley, the two coworkers would talk for hours about the show, and whatever drama was center-stage for that season.

It got to a point where Mr. Krabs -- who only watched ATTT ironically -- got on them both, for shirking their duties.

“If yer gonna flirt,” he’d said, “do it on yer own time.”

So, Spongebob started coming over to Squidward’s house on Friday nights, when the new episodes would air. In fact, even when the show was between seasons, Spongebob still came over, just to watch reruns. It was one of the few times Squidward would (begrudgingly) let Spongebob inside, with no complaints.

Spongebob hummed softly to himself, his eyes scanning the small clipboard in front of him. Food, decorations, party games … Check, check, and check. Everything was present and accounted for -- and he had to admit, the house looked spectacular.

Every room was themed around a different, iconic arc in the ATTT series. His living room, filled with chalk drawings, crime scene tape, and red-string boards, was inspired by the murder mystery arc. His kitchen, decorated with leftover Halloween gear, was inspired by the vampire arc … and so on and so forth. Each and every room had its own particular, careful design -- and in all, it was probably Spongebob’s most intricate and detailed party to date.

That was because it had to be. Spongebob had a plan, a carefully detailed plan -- one that was sure to sweep Squidward Tentacles right off his … er, tentacles. And it went like this:

Squidward and Spongebob’s favorite arc, in all 42 seasons of As The Tide Turns, was the murder mystery. In the arc, the dashing Detective Heartthrob, accompanied by his sidekick-slash-lover Joey, must bring a heinous mass murderer to justice. At the climax, it is revealed that Detective Heartthrob is the true killer -- having been hypnotized by a witch, who was also his evil twin sister, for some reason. In the end, Joey must kill Detective Heartthrob, in a tragic display of love and sacrifice.

The season was thrilling, silly, and emotionally traumatizing, to boot. For months after the finale, Squidward and Spongebob would not shut up about it -- much to the annoyance of Mr. Krabs.

Either way, Spongebob had set up an elaborate, original mystery game, inspired by the events of the show. Each attendee would get a “random” card, assigning them a different role in the story. Squidward would be Detective Heartthrob, and Spongebob would be Joey.

Together, they would embark on an original mystery, one that Spongebob had devised all by himself. After he and Squidward solved the mystery together, and the party was over … Spongebob would finally, finally confess his feelings.

Of course, Spongebob had, more or less, rigged the game to ensure this would happen. Which was cheating, sure, but this was for love! So it couldn't possibly go wrong.

-0-

It went wrong. Almost immediately, in fact.

For one, the party started at 6:30 -- and, nearly two hours later, Squidward had yet to show up. Spongebob spent those first two hours lingering by the door, staring out the window towards the moai, and forgetting to refill the punch bowl. Sandy, ever the observant one, noticed immediately.

Pulling Spongebob aside, she asked, in a hushed voice, “Hey, partner. You good?”

“Oh, I’m -- I’m great!” chirped Spongebob, putting on his worst, most unconvincing smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Uh-huh,” said Sandy, flatly. “This about Squidward?”

Spongebob blushed, immediately. The squirrel sighed.

“I thought so,” she mumbled, folding her arms across her chest. “Did he say he was gonna come?”

The sponge nodded. “He said, ‘I’ll see if I can make it work’, which in Squidward-speak, is practically a yes!” groaned Spongebob, staring up at Sandy with his huge baby blue eyes. “He’ll come, right, Sandy?”

Sandy hesitated. She didn’t really know Squidward that well … but he did seem to have a soft spot for Spongebob. Awkwardly, she replied, “I mean … I can’t say for sure, but he did say he would try. Let’s be patient, okay, Spongebob? Maybe he just got caught up with something.”

Spongebob sighed, then repositioned his face into its usual chipper smile. “Alrighty. You do usually know what’s best, Sandy.”

“I sure do,” she giggled. “Oh, and Spongebob?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t cut his cable this time,” she said, before walking off to get more punch.

-0-

By 9:30, the party started to go a bit haywire. At this point, practically all of Bikini Bottom was at Spongebob’s house, except for Squidward -- and Larry thought it would be a great idea to play Truth Or Dare: Extreme Edition. The rules were pretty much the same as Truth Or Dare: Standard Edition, but with one exception: each subsequent truth or dare had to be more extreme than the last.

It started off alright. A few people were dared to take off their pants, or do a somersault down Conch Street while blindfolded. However, as the game progressed, the stakes grew astronomically. At one point, Patrick was dared to eat half of Spongebob’s pineapple. Later, Sandy was dared to juggle three of Plankton’s bombs, while riding a unicycle. Even later, Larry and Mr. Krabs were dared to switch shells and wrestle -- which wasn’t really destructive. Just disturbing.

The dares were stupid, but if there was one thing Bikini Bottomites had, it was a complete lack of common sense. Or any sense, really.

It certainly didn’t help that as the night progressed, the partygoers grew more and more … inebriated. The punch itself was non-alcoholic, but apparently, Karen and Plankton had taken it upon themselves to bring their own alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

By 10:30, Squidward still hadn’t shown up yet. Several people had either passed out or thrown up. And the pineapple was a complete disaster.

Spongebob sighed. He was seated on his living room sofa now, watching as the partygoers reveled inside (and outside) his home. Of course, the sponge was happy they were enjoying themselves -- but this day was supposed to be about him, and … well, nothing had gone as planned. His entire house was destroyed, it would take days to clean up the mess -- and Squidward hadn’t even bothered to show up! The nerve.

“Hey Patrick,” muttered Spongebob, waving a tired yellow hand at his drunken best friend.

Immediately, the starfish stumbled over to him, drink in hand. “Wha… haha … whasss’ up, Spunchblarb?” he slurred.

Spongebob pointed to the drink in Patrick’s hand. “Could I have that?”

Patrick grinned widely. “Yeeeeeahh! Now -- now, yer talkin’, buddy!” And with that, the starfish handed Spongebob his first drink of the night.

-0-

About three drinks in, Spongebob Squarepants was well and truly intoxicated. Which was nice, in a way. Now, the world was a weird, misty haze, and he didn’t have to worry about his pineapple being destroyed, or his party being ruined, or Squidward, or whatever. Now, he could just be peacefully drunk and stupid, just like everybody else in his house. Blissfully unaware of the world around them.

As the night went on, Spongebob began losing track of time. What time was it? Midnight? 3:00 a.m.? Did it even matter?

Over the course of one very stupid evening, Spongebob made more than a few bad decisions. For one, he bought like, ten mops online. Which was both counterproductive (he was a sponge) and financially irresponsible (he was also a frycook). Later, the sponge swam to the surface of the ocean to see how long he could breathe without water. He fainted within the first ten seconds, and had to be retrieved by Larry. After that, the night became a dizzying blur. Spongebob was certain he had been driving, at one point, and also dancing, and maybe singing?

Either way, several hours later, Spongebob was still dancing in his living room, a lampshade stuck on his head, when he felt something on his shoulder. Turning woozily, the sponge tried to get into “kara-tay” position, and ultimately failed.

“Who -- what -- stay back! I’m warning you!” shouted the sponge. “I know … er, kar .. karat … carrots?”

There was a familiar sigh, then a soft chuckle. “Oh, you moron,” came a voice, a voice that Spongebob loved so dearly, even in this drunken state. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Squ … squib … ?”

“Yeah,” said Squidward, wrenching the lampshade off of Spongebob’s head. “It’s me. Sorry I’m late.”

Spongebob looked up at Squidward -- and in his inebriated, hazy stupor, he couldn’t take it. He loved him so much, and for so long. It hurt. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “Squi -- Squidward, you -- you came,” the sponge stammered, his bottom lip quivering. “I -- I didn’t think …”

“Hush,” said Squidward, looking around the room. “This is, uh … wow, you really had a rager, huh? I didn’t think you had it in you, Spongebob.”

Stepping away, Squidward began picking up random items off the floor -- the punch bowl, some photographs, and a spilled carton of milk. The octopus had to step over and around several bodies, which were lying passed out on Spongebob’s floor.

“Listen, I’m gonna try and find a way to get everyone home,” said Squidward, sifting his way through the pile of garbage and bodies. “Everyone else is knocked out -- ”

Spongebob had had it. He’d had enough. He’d planned out this whole day perfectly, just for Squidward to not show up, for his whole house to be demolished in the chaos. Sure, he was glad everyone had a good time, but deep down, Spongebob was a little selfish, and deep down --

“I don’t care about everyone else!” shouted Spongebob, clenching his fists at his sides. “I care about you, Squidward!”

Squidward, startled, nearly dropped everything he was holding -- and before he could properly respond, Spongebob fell over, unconscious.

-0-

For once, Spongebob didn’t wake up to the sound of his foghorn. Instead, he woke up to the sound of the television nearby. Very soft dialogue wafted its way over to the sponge, bathing him in its pleasant familiarity.

“Why, Joey, I think you’re right -- the killer is closer than we seem to think!”

“Then we best get cracking, Detective Heartthrob!”

Groaning, Spongebob sat up -- a dull, throbbing pain coursing through his skull. Dear Neptune. What happened last night? There was the party, the drinking, and … Squidward, maybe? Spongebob felt his heart drop at the thought of his neighbor, and sighed. He hadn’t gotten to tell Squidward how he felt. Attempt 57 had failed. Miserably.

Blinking slowly, the sponge looked around, and with surprise noted that his bedroom was not a mess, like it had been during the party. In fact, it was squeaky clean. The only thing out of place was the living room television, which had been moved to the end of Spongebob’s bed. The TV was playing an old rerun of As The Tide Turns, from the murder mystery arc. A smile tugged at Spongebob’s lips. How ironic.

Wait a minute. Who moved the TV?

Just then, there were footsteps on the stairs -- the tell-tale pat-pat-pat-pat of someone with four legs. Squidward. He was still here! Steeling himself, Spongebob sat at attention, gripping the blankets tightly.

When Squidward entered, he was holding a tray of food and wearing a long pink apron. When he saw that Spongebob was now conscious, the octopus jumped, nearly dropped the food, then steadied himself just in time.

“Squidward!” said Spongebob, cheerily. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here, you nitwit,” muttered Squidward. “Who else was gonna clean up that messy party of yours?”

Squidward crossed the room to place the food tray on Spongebob’s nightstand. Once there, the octopus shoved a glass of water and two pills into the poriferan’s hands, with one simple command: “Drink.”

Spongebob did so, gratefully. Then, he asked, “The party … what all happened?”

“I don’t know, but it was a mess,” sighed Squidward. “I’m pretty sure half the town was completely passed out by the time I got here. I’m surprised the cops didn’t get involved.”

“Oh,” said Spongebob, feeling very guilty all of a sudden. “Did -- did everyone get home okay?”

“Yeah,” said Squidward. “Listen, don’t -- don’t worry about it, okay? I took care of everything. Your house is clean, Gary is fed, everyone got home. That’s all.” Squidward’s cheeks were stained red.

Spongebob smiled, his heart jumping happily in his chest. “Thank you, Squidward.”

After a moment of silence, Squidward brought the food tray up to Spongebob’s lap. “You should … you should eat that,” he muttered, then took a deep breath. “Look, I … I’m sorry I was so late, alright? The truth is, I … I got caught up.”

With a mouthful of food, Spongebob asked, “Wif whaf?”

Squidward grimaced. “You’re disgusting,” he snapped, then looked away, blushing brightly. “Anyway, I … was trying to get ahold of your birthday present. It was supposed to be delivered here, to Conch Street, yesterday -- but I guess there was a mix-up, and it was instead delivered to Conch Road, which is … in an entirely different town. Several hours away.”

Spongebob blinked. “You drove all the way to get it?”

Squidward scowled. “Whatever,” he snapped, pulling a small red present box from beneath Spongebob’s bed. “Either way, it’s here. So, I guess … open it, maybe.”

Shoveling down the rest of his food (much to Squidward’s disgust), the sponge quickly shredded the pristine red wrapping paper to reveal -- a boxed set of the entire As The Tide Turns series. The extended edition, with all the bonus scenes and commentary tracks. And to top it all off -- the box was signed by the stars of the show.

Spongebob looked up at Squidward, eyes shimmering with shock and awe. “Squidward, this is -- this is amazing, I thought they didn’t sell these anymore!”

“Oh, trust me,” said Squidward, shuddering. “You have no idea what I had to do to get my hands on that.”

“Let me guess,” said Spongebob, holding up two yellow hands to form finger-guns. In his best Joey impression, the sponge said, “You had to kill a lotta folks, didn’t ya, Detective Heartthrob?”

Squidward chuckled immediately. In one suave motion, he leaned against Spongebob’s bed, and pointed a finger-gun of his own. In his best Detective Heartthrob impression, the octopus replied, “I did, and I don’t regret it at all, Joey!”

The two laughed for a good long while. Then, suddenly embarrassed once more, Squidward looked away. Taking a deep breath, the octopus said, “Look, Sponge, I -- last night, you said something kinda weird, and I wanted to know if -- if maybe --”

“Huh?”

“You said -- you only cared about me, not anyone else, and I -- I wanted to ask,” stammered Squidward, “... what exactly … you meant by that.”

Spongebob’s eyes widened. Oh, barnacles. Did he really say that? Well … there was no hiding it now. Gripping his sheets tight, Spongebob steeled himself for what was to come. “It means I … I wanna keep hanging out with you, Squidward,” said the sponge, staring down at his yellow knuckles. “I wanna hang out with you more than anyone else.”

Squidward swallowed, hard. “Sponge, what are you saying?”

Spongebob looked up. Their eyes met. “I like you,” said the sponge, smiling nervously. “A … a lot.”

A long moment of silence passed. Spongebob’s heart hammered furiously at his chest. Then, Squidward sighed, and picked up the ATTT boxed set. Walking over to Spongebob’s TV, the octopus inserted the first disc, grabbed the remote, and returned to Spongebob’s side.

Lifting the blankets, the octopus said, “Scooch over.”

Spongebob blinked, then did as instructed. “Why?” he asked.

“You really are an idiot,” muttered Squidward, climbing into bed with him. “It’s a Sunday, the Krusty Krab is closed, and we have a whole boxed set to watch together. Might as well start now.”

Spongebob smiled, happily. “So -- so you -- ”

Squidward rolled his eyes. “If you must know, yes, I … I like you,” he snapped. “I’m not gonna drive halfway across the ocean floor for just anybody, you know.”

Spongebob grinned stupidly. “I guess not.”

With that, the show began, its melodramatic theme tune echoing pleasantly across Spongebob’s pineapple home. And just below the bed, Gary let out a soft, contended meow -- which almost certainly meant “finally.”

-0-

References:

The line about cutting Squidward’s cable is a reference to the episode “Party Pooper Pants”, in which Spongebob cuts Squidward’s cable to get him to come over for a party.

[gryffindordaughterofathena]

Hi fellow Gryffindor! Hope you're read for:

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ahh my favorite time of the week again. Also on a side note these questions are brilliant.

I am sorry for being late, my school thinks it's okay to torture seventeen year olds, smh

(Ignore if there are any typos, I am sleep deprived)

Previous Interviews

The setting for these answers is: Two days before they leave for Miami. Diana already knows about Naveen and as an extra context, they now spend time together at his apartment or at Derry Roasters to discuss Naveen's case and both of them (grudgingly in Ethan's case) call each other ahem...."friends"

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

[Two people make their way towards the busy little coffee shop down the street from the hospital, the man furtively looking over his shoulder, as if scared of being spotted, the woman, sensing her companion's distress, puts a tentative hand on his arm, which visibly seems to calm him somewhat. He sends a grateful smile her way.]

ETHAN : We are both busy doctors rookie, why are we supposed to do this—interview?

DIANA : It won't take long, plus we are already waiting for the test results for Doct- umm our patient.

ETHAN : Well if it will stop you from talking my ear off.

DIANA : (Says nothing just smiles)

(FOR BOTH)

When I first saw them, I thought ________

Diana : Actually the first time we met it was kinda in the midst of an emergency, so I didn't get much time to form an impression but once he left I thought he was a (glances towards Ethan, then says in a rush) handsome asshole.

Ethan : Excuse me, what?

Diana : Well after I helped save the woman you told me that it was incredible I didn't kill her, forgive me if I can't think that you were an asshole.

Ethan : (a little flustered) That's not what I said excuse me fo- never mind, I thought she wasn't completely incompetent for an intern and also that she's quite bold.

Di : "Bold" ?

E : Yes, you tried to flirt with me.

Di : Oh that was before I knew who you were.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Ethan : She alternates between Shit and Fuck

Diana : Goddamnit and Fuck

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Diana : Blue, a bright clear blue.... umm it's quite noticeable when someone chews you out every other day.

Ethan : Dark brown that appears almost black at times.

Diana : (mutters)I am surprised he can see my eyes from his giraffe height

Ethan : glares at her

Diana : What? Oh did I say that out loud? Umm well it's true (shrugs)

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Diana : (giggling) I think it's easier to tell you about three people he doesn't hate, he hates everyone except Dr. Banerjee, Dr. Emery both of whom he respects and well me.

Ethan : (a rare smile playing in his lips) who said anything about not hating you Rookie?

Diana : Because you are my partner in crime and I think we are friends.

Ethan : "partner in crime"?

Diana : Yes we go to burning buildings together and anyways deny as much as you want, you don't hate me.

Ethan : (softly) I don't. (composing himself) In case of Dr. Ramirez, I don't think she can ever hate anyone, she herself says "I love everyone" I don't know how that's possible but she doesn't hate anyone at this place.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Diana : Definitely pinching the bridge of his nose thing, I once tried counting how many times he did it while morning rounds, it was exactly 17 times in two hours.

Ethan : Not my fault most interns are utterly hopeless. In Diana's case it's forgetting a hair tie every day and using a pen or a pencil to keep her hair up.

Di : This irritates him so much that he keeps a spare tie in his office now.

Ethan : I don't know why I put up with these habits (pinches the bridge of his nose)

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

Diana : (in an uncanny imitation of Ethan's gruff voice) It's beyond me to have juvenile emotions such as a crush, it's mostly a result of continued exposure to the person for a long time anyways.

Ethan : What- I don't sound like that

Diana : You do!

Ethan : For her it might be one of her friends, they seem quite enamored by her.

Di : My friends....nah! It's someone else

E : Who else do you spend time with to have a crush on?

Di : A girl's gotta have some secrets. (muttering so softly that Ethan doesn't hear it) how much more oblivious can a man be?

(NEVER HAVE I EVER ROUND)

Ethan : What is that?

Di : You drink if you have done said thing before, it's a classic drinking game.

E : I am not playing any such game.

Di : Come on we are already doing this.

E : *Grumbles in agreement*

come into work hungover

The iced coffee lies untouched before both of them.

Diana : We are responsible doctors.

had a fistfight

Both take a sip of their respective beverages.

Diana : Okay I'll go first, I once punched a guy in seventh grade because he was being obnoxious and then his other friends taunted him on being punched by a girl which hurt his male ego and he tried to fight back but some of our teachers spotted me dodging it and I escaped punishment because of my pristine record.

Ethan : Well, in our field there are many power hungry morons who deserve being punched.

been kicked out of a bar

Ethan takes another sip, Diana doesn't.

Diana : Okay dish

E : We all do regrettable things in our youth.

Di : Really, you won't tell us?

E : (grins) I am going for an air of mystery.

Di : Well it's working

(Both smile at each other, forgetting their surroundings for some time)

gotten a tattoo.

None of them drink.

Di : It hurts like hell so I am never getting one.

broken someone’s heart.

Di : Nah! I haven't. But Ethan you drink this time.

Ethan : Why?

Di : Honestly have you ever seen the way the nurses look at you?

Ethan : If you say so (takes a sip)

been in love

Ethan : Doesn't drink but all of a sudden he fixes his gaze at her almost involuntarily.

Di : (Drinks) I like to think I have been in love before.

Ethan : (trying to look as uninterested as possible) What changed?

Di : Well we broke up after around two yearsof dating.

Ethan : (doesn't say anything but looks visibly less tense)

Di : Oh we are out of coffee...

E : You sit here I'll place our orders.

Di : Thanks

(DIANA)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Di : Professionally he'll most definitely contribute even more to the medical world, lead the Diagnostic Team like the best doctor he is. Personally, I dunno maybe he'll find someone, I hope he does, he needs someone to help and support him through his problem of shouldering every little thing.

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Diana : His passion for medicine obviously, you should see when he talks about medicine, it's so evident how much he loves what he does and also how much he cares despite the gruff exterior he puts on in front of everyone.

Last thing he texted you?

Diana : He hates texting, so I think his last text was, let me see (scrolls through her phone)

"We need to put ciprofloxacin in our list, can you do me a favor by adding it?"

It's uh about a case.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Diana : It's never going to happen, he's Ethan Ramsey and I am, well me, but if uh hypothetically he asked me out, I'd say yes immediately, hypothetically obviously.

(Ethan returns with the coffee, then looks at Di's flustered face)

Ethan : What were you talking about?

Diana : Uh nothing I was just - (her pager goes off) We have the test results, I'll go and bring those back in a few minutes.

(ETHAN)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Ethan : She'll be an amazing doctor obviously, maybe even with a spot on the diagnostic team. I suppose she won't hear this?

Interviewer : No, she won't.

Ethan : Personally, with someone who values her contribution to our sphere of work, I suppose.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan : I really shouldn't be talking about this.

Interviewer : Don't worry, no one's hearing about this, it's just some extra information so that we know you better.

Ethan : She's an attractive woman obviously, but I think her smile, it's difficult to ignore and her eyes.

Last thing she texted you?

Ethan : "I AM DONE WITH MY PATIENTS🤩🥳"

"IT'S LIKE EVERYONE DECIDED TO BE SICK TODAY"

followed by a series of emoticons

"😣😖😫😩"

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan : I would have to turn her down, I am her boss.

(gazing wistfully at the street, eyes glued at Diana's approaching figure)

But perhaps in a different life I would have said yes.

Ethan : I think that's enough questions, she's here now and we have important matters at hand which require our attention.

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

Taglist : @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @drariellevalentine @rookie-ramsey @aleynareads @miss-smrxtiee @terrm9 @aestheticartsx @fireycookie @maurine07 @starrystarrytrouble @schnitzelbutterfingers @tsrookie @anntoldstories @iemcpbchoices @stygianflood @sophxwithers @actuallybored @iloveethanramsey @natureblooms24 @chemist-ana @mercury84choices @casey-v @uneravine @mm2305 @mrsethanfreakingramsey @smilex1104 @missmiimiie @shanzay44 @sweetheartdetectivex @potionsprefect @headoverheelsforramsey @jerzwriter @mainstreetreader @coffeeheartaddict @adiehardfan @mia143

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[softtransbf]

Mister Nice Guy, part 1

Summary: You’re new to the BAU and get along well with everyone, almost. You can’t figure out why the infuriatingly handsome Dr. Spencer Reid seems to hate you so much.

Word Count: 2222

Reader: Trans man, he/him pronouns, no physical description.

Warnings: Alcohol, brief description of a case and therefore murder. Nothing graphic.

(Part two)

~~~~~~~~~~

It was your first day at the BAU, and you were so excited. It took all of your willpower not to skip from the elevator to your new boss' office. You definitely caught a sideways glance from an incredibly handsome man with very expressive eyebrows, but you didn't let it concern you; you'd worked too damn hard for too damn long to let anyone bring you down today. You got to the door and knocked sharply. 

"Agent L/N, please, come in," came a voice from inside the room. You took a deep breath and walked through the door.

You'd heard stories about Aaron Hotchner and the BAU- everyone had. Most people only heard the good parts- the heroic tales, the happy endings. But you liked to be prepared, to know the truth of what you were going after, so you'd also paid attention to the quieter whispers. The imposing boss who never smiles, the weird and maybe-pseudo-sexual relationship between the exuberant tech analyst and one of the profilers, the betting pool on whether or not the two female profilers were secretly gay for each other, true crime writer extraordinaire and profiling legend David Rossi leaving retirement to mostly be snarky, and the young agent with multiple doctorates who is smarter than seems humanly possible. You would never admit it, but you were particularly eager to meet the genius. He guest lectured once in your friend's linguistics class your last semester before graduating, and xe wouldn't shut up about him for an entire week. When you told xem that your transfer was approved, xe begged for "a full rundown on what he's like up close and personal" after your first case. But first, you needed to meet with SSA Hotchner.

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. 

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." You thanked your lucky star that your voice didn't shake.

"It's a pleasure to have you. I heard nothing but the best about you from your previous supervisor. Officially, all the paperwork has gone through for your transfer, but I would like to ask a couple of questions before we get started." 

"Of course, sir. What would you like to know?" One corner of his mouth ticked up slightly for a fraction of a second, and you counted that as a major victory.

"First and foremost, why are you interested in the BAU?" You relaxed slightly; you'd prepared for this question.

"Human behavior is nothing short of fascinating. Everyone is shaped by a unique set of experiences, but at the end of the day, we all behave in documented patterns. Everything matters, because it shapes who we are, but also nothing does, because we all end up in one of a finite number of 'shapes', so to speak. No one is the same, but we all exhibit set behavioral patterns. No matter what someone's gone through, at the end of the day, they are still understandable and predictable. I find that absolutely fascinating, and the work that the BAU does with that is incredible. I want to be a part of it, and I have the skill and drive to do so. After all, the BAU essentially wrote the handbook for Crisis Negotiation."

"That is a very interesting perspective, agent." His face was neutral, but you detected approval in his tone. "I only had one other matter to bring up- I see two different first names in your paperwork, and two of your references refer to you with different pronouns. Which name do you prefer, and what are your pronouns?"

You were floored; you'd never had a supervisor so casually look past paperwork outing you. "Y/N, sir, and he/him/his."

"Wonderful. Well, Y/N, welcome to the BAU. Let's go meet the team, shall we?" You nodded and followed him out his door into the meeting room, where the rest of the team was assembled.

"Everyone, this is Special Agent Y/N L/N. He has just transferred from Crisis Negotiation."

"Oh! New guy! Hi hi hi! I'm Penelope Garcia, just call me Penelope, and I do all the tech-y, research-y stuff." She made her way across the room to you as she spoke, talking with her hands.

"Pleasure to meet you, Penelope! I love the look you're rocking, by the way. Those shoes in particular are magnificent." You knew you were being the gay sterotype that you'd spent your career trying to avoid, but shoes that good could not go uncomplimented.

"Oh my goodness, thank you!" she said to you before stage-whispering to the rest of the team, "I like him! Let's keep him." The team laughed, and you blushed. It seemed that Hotchner had wordlessly passed on the duties of making the introductions to her, because she pointed to the agent closest to her, handsome-guy-with-the-eyebrows from earlier, and continued on. 

"Okay, so, this is Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, but we all call her JJ, David Rossi, and Dr Spencer Reid." They all nodded, smiled, and/or waved slightly when they were introduced, with the exception of Dr Reid, who looked almost like he was looking at a puzzle. You chalked the feeling in your gut it gave you to first-day nerves.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, and I look forward to getting to know you all better as time goes on." You were addressing everyone, but something about the way Dr. Reid was staring at you made it difficult to look away from him for too long.

"Wonderful! Now, as much as I wish we could all chit-chat and get to know Y/N better, we do have a case. Last night, a body was found in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park."

The case was interesting, twin injustice collectors, one more mission oriented, the other interested almost entirely on experimenting with different forms of torture on the victims. The former, over the weeks between kills, had started dating one of the local detectives, neither of them knowing of the other's involvement in the case. You were there when that information came to light at the killer's arrest, and you were able to diffuse the situation, ensuring that no one was harmed.

On the flight back, Prentiss insisted on the whole team going out for drinks to welcome you to the team. Hotchner declined, because he needed to get back to Jack, and Rossi said he had "plans with Tony Bennett", but everyone else agreed, mostly enthusiastically. It took significant persuasion from JJ to get Reid to agree to go out with you all. For the whole case, he was abrupt and distant with you, despite your best efforts. You knew it was silly, but you really wanted your coworkers to like you, so you decided you were going to do your absolute best to get him to like you by the end of the night.

-

"Hey, doc, first round's on me. What'll it be?" You'd noticed during the case that he shrugged off all of your attempts to start a conversation, but you figured that even he wouldn't ignore you under these circumstances.

"Uh, white wine would be great, thanks."

"White wine? At a dive bar? Does this bar even have white wine?" You'd intended to be charming, but, seriously, white wine? Who was this guy?

He opened his mouth, clearly indignant, but he was interrupted by Morgan chuckling from behind you both.

"That's why we go to this dump, newbie. It's the only bar in the area that serves white wine, which is all Pretty Boy here drinks." He winked at you and playfully elbowed Reid in the ribs.

You threw your hands up in mock surrender and chuckled. "Okay, okay, white wine for the good doctor it is. What's your poison? I'm sure word's gotten around that the first round is on me."

"You know, I might have heard something about that, and I most definitely wouldn't say no to a dirty martini." He winked at you, and your chuckle turned into full-on laughter.

You got the bartender's attention and ordered their drinks and a Jack and Coke for yourself. "It's a damn shame you're straight, Derek. Truly a crime against queer men everywhere, although I'm not so proud I can't admit that I'm a bit glad you're not competition."

"Wait wait wait, how do you know I don't like a little meat on the side?"

"So, sidestepping the fact that not all men have penises and some women do, you are so hetero that it's almost painful. Look around; men of all shapes and sizes outnumber women 2 to 1 at least. But you've spent the whole night making eyes at those women over there." You pointed to a table on the other side of the room. "Plus, I may or may not have received a very detailed string of texts from Penelope that essentially amounted to a crash course on all of y'all. I get a feeling that she might like me a little bit."

"My bad on the meat comment- I'll definitely fix that. And speaking of Penelope being a font of information, she's been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about you. What's your big secret, new guy?"

You raised an eyebrow and sipped your drink. "All you need to know is that Hotch, who strikes me as even more protective of this team than he lets on, which is really saying something, knows, and he cares less than any brass I've ever met. And I know for a fact that if Penelope thought it was concerning, she'd have at least voiced some suspicions about me, if not told you outright. I'm not ashamed of it, it's just none of y'alls business. Anyway, the blonde from the table you were eyeing earlier is coming over to see if we've been flirting this whole time so she knows whether to flirt with you or gush about how she's always wanted a Gay Best Friend oh my god. If I'm still here, it'll be both, and I'm allergic to that particular brand of cishet nonsense. Have fun, good-lookin'." You chuckled and patted him on the shoulder as you left, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Reid roll his eyes, down his drink, and walk in the other direction. What is his deal? Whatever. I'm not about to let him wet blanket all over tonight. You took out your phone and sent out a couple of quick texts.

[To: Penelope]: Thank you for not outing me. It means the world to me. Let's get brunch sometime?

[To: Nerd <3]: you sure Reid seemed pleasant when he lectured? that has Not been my experience with him so far. you were right about him being Cute cute, though, damn. a Gay could get lost in those big brown eyes, and in different circumstances I'd climb him like a tree. shame he's Like That lmao

Looking up from your phone, you saw Emily and JJ nearby, so you went over to join them. 

"Oh em gee Y/N you're gay? I had, like, no idea! We should, like, totally get brunch and then go shopping! This is gonna be so much fun; I've always wanted a gay best friend!" You rolled your eyes and laughed at Emily's terrible Valley Girl accent. "Unfortunately, I did not spend my time in the closet learning anything about clothes. I only dress halfway decently for work because my friend dragged me to the mall and updated my wardrobe when I applied for this position. It's all xir doing."

"Well, xe has excellent taste." You mentally filed away JJ's effortless use of neopronouns.

"I'll be sure to let xem know! I'm so down for brunch, though." You checked your phone. "Looks like Garcia is too!"

"Damn, you work fast. You'll fit right in here," Emily laughed.

"Honestly, I'm a little bit blown away by how awesome and welcoming you all are. Well, mostly. Is Spencer like this with every new person, or did I somehow do something to offend him?" Emily and JJ shared a look you couldn't quite read before JJ answered.

"Spencer…" she hesitated, "He's going through something right now. I'm sure he'll figure it out soon, and things will smooth out." 

So you waited. Weeks passed, and you fit in well with the team. You ended up getting close to Derek and Penelope in particular, and you kept trying to make nice with Spencer. Weeks of cold shoulder and as few words as possible to you while being his normal, verbose self with everyone else. So, three weeks into your new job, on a night out with Derek and Penelope you made a decision.

"Look. It's been weeks, and the guy still won't say more than 5 words to me. I'm done trying to… I don't know what I was even trying to do," you slurred, you’d probably had one drink too many. "Make a friend, maybe? I don't even know. But I'm done. He wants to give taciturn bordering on rude? Then that's what he'll receive. Let's see how Pretty Boy likes a taste of his own medicine. No more Mister Nice Guy." You wouldn't remember the look they shared until much later.

And so, your silent war with Spencer truly began.

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines: Lights The Dark

Chapter 10 Saturday School Kids Can Be Cruel.

Friday night had been pretty fun when Penny finally got home. She had called Pietro earlier in the day to tell him not to make her too much for dinner because she had a big lunch. She managed to keep the petit fours a secret until she got home. When she did get home, she plopped the box down on the table while he had his back turned and shouted “SURPRISE” as he turned around. He was so surprised he almost dropped their dinner, but Penny took the tray off his hands before anything got ruined. That night they had baked potatoes with tiny cakes and tea for dessert. The following morning Penny woke up to a pre-made plate of bacon and eggs, some money, and a note.

“ Morning Penny, They had to call me in for some emergency maintenance on the mech’s cannon again. There’s gonna be a lot to be done so I won’t be back till tomorrow. Be safe while I’m gone; remember to eat and stay charged.”

“Love you Sunshine, Dad.”

Penny: He won’t be home till tomorrow. I’m going to be alone here until tomorrow.

Penny frowns unconsciously; she had rarely been away from her dad since she was stationed. His presence had been her only constant comfort since the tournament; she hadn’t gone a day without him and she had never thought about what would happen if she had to. It’s honestly quite scary to be alone with nothing be her thoughts. Whenever she was, everything felt so small, so quiet, so….. suffocating like a black void pooling around her.

Penny: No one will be here when I get back or when I go to sleep tonight. When it’s dark, it’ll just be, be-

Penny shakes her head, pushing out the worrying thoughts before they get worse.

Penny: Stop. You are fine, you are strong, you are not hopeless, and one night on your own will not hurt you. Just eat your breakfast and go to work.

Penny sits down at the table and quietly eats her now cold breakfast. Once she’s done, she washes her dishes, turns off all the lights, and heads off to her morning patrol. The patrol went well, no robberies or emergencies today, for some reason this didn't make Penny happy, even though it meant she would have less paperwork at the end of the day. Before long, it’s time to help at the training facility. Saturdays and Sundays were always the easiest days of the week at the facility as most academy students rested or went home on weekends, and most hunters took it easy on the weekends too, so besides makeup sessions and a few fitness hobbyists, no one came in. Which meant Penny was never requested on these days. Or so she thought. When she arrived, Penny is told that a team has requested her assistant for their session and was waiting for her in her usual room. This surprised her but Penny did as she was told and headed towards the training room. As she walked, she wondered who could have possibly asked for her on a Saturday afternoon. Could it be Winter? No, she liked to train by herself. Academy students? No, any student who came in on the weekend was to be monitored by a teacher. Could it..Ciel?...No there was no possible way she had asked for her. Penny kept pondering, but no matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t guess who could be waiting for her in that room. She’d just had to go in and see for herself. Once she finally reached the training room, the moment she enters the room, something tackles her! Penny wrests her attacker onto the floor and pins their hands behind their back. She’s about to question them when she feels something touch her back. She grabs it, gripping it tightly in her hands. She looks at it and sees it’s a long fluffy orange tail.

Penny: An orange cat tail? Neon Katt?

Penny looks down and realizes she’s holding down Neon!

Neon: Yeah, it’s me. And if not too much to ask, could you let go of my tail and GET OFF ME!

Penny: Right away. I’m so sorry!

Penny lets her go, and they both get off the floor. Before Penny can ask why Neon tackled her, Neon starts rolling towards the rest of her team. Penny tries to keep up and ask her what’s going on, but Neon wouldn't even look at her. When they finally reach the rest of the team, FNKI Neon hides behind Flynt. Penny gives up on Neon and decides to just wait to ask one of the others.

Penny: Good afternoon Team FNKI.

Flynt: Hey Penny, nice to see you.

Ivori: Afternoon to you too, Ms. Penny.

Kobalt: Sup Penny, hope you got affairs in order cause you’re about to see hell. (chuckles)

Ivori: Koco!

Ivori pops Kobalt in his side with the handle of his whip. Kobalt rubs his side in pain and annoyed.

Kobalt: Ow, the hell Ivy!

Ivori: Could you please not act like a jackass for one minute.

Kobalt: How was I being a jackass? We know what’s about to go down, I was just giving her a heads up!

Ivori: Still, would it kill you to show some tact for once. I mean Is it really so hard for you to-

Penny: Excuse me.

Both young men stop and return their attention to Penny.

Penny: What exactly is going on? I have no idea what is happening and what exactly I’ve done to get this kind of reaction. Could one of you please explain?

Flynt: Yeah, sorry about that. You see what happened was-

Suddenly, Neon pushes Flynt out of the way and gets in Penny’s face. She gets less than an inch away from Penny’s face, looking really upset.

Neon: You didn’t call.

Penny: Excuse me?

Neon continues to stare her down, arms crossed with a big frown on her face.

Neon: You didn’t call me! I gave you my number, asked you to call me, waited two weeks for you to call, but you never did. So rude!

Penny: I am sorry Neon, I have been very busy for the last few weeks and hadn’t thought about our conversation since then.

Neon: Wow, talk about thoughtless. Or am I just that forgettable to you?

Penny: No, I just had over things I needed to give my full attention to at the time. That and I didn’t have anything to talk about.

Neon: Uh, That’s so not true! What about that “secret mission” Ironwood has you working on?

Penny: I’m not supposed to talk about that.

Neon: Yeah, with civilians! You’re supposed to gossip about your crazy missions and stupid paperwork with coworkers, stupid. Sharing wild stories is like the best thing about being a soldier! And besides, this isn’t just an everyday mission; it's one the General himself had to come to your house and get you out of bed for. How could you not wanna talk about that?

Penny: How did you know about that?

Neon: Same way I shoulda heard from you. Now talk! I wanna hear everything!

Penny stares blankly at Neon as she piece together what she just heard. She looked over at the rest of Team FNKI; the three young men were standing awkwardly, embarrassed but unsurprised by Neon’s actions. Finally understanding what’s going on, Penny turns her attention back to Neon.

Penny: So if I’m hearing this correctly, you request this room and my presence with sole purpose of having a recreational conversation?

Neon: Yeah!

Penny: And you do realize that in doing so, you are misappropriating both military equipment and personnel?

With that, Neon’s pout drops, and so does her tail, Flynt facepalms and hangs his head, Ivori does everything he can to avoid making eye contact, and Kobalt’s looking around and whistling, trying his best to play it cool. Penny crosses her arms, unimpressed by their silly plan.

Penny: Team FNKI, please leave this area immediately so that others may use it properly.

Neon: What! Oh come on, no one even comes here on Saturday!

Penny: That is incorrect and irrelevant; this room is for training purposes only, not socializing. If you aren’t going to train then you have to leave. Those are the rules we must follow as soldiers.

Neon: OMG, Are you really doing this right now? Ugh why do you have to be such a narc-

Neon is quickly interrupted by Flynt getting in between the warring redheads.

Flynt: Okay, I’m sensing way too much hostility here, so why don’t we all just take as sec to calm down and come up with some kind of solution.

Neon about to start arguing again but Flynt turns to her and puts a hand on her cheek; he caresses her cheek with his thumb and lightly scratches her jawline with his other fingers. Soon Neon lets out a low purr as she full calms down from her hissy fit.

Flynt: Kitty, I know you just wanna talk, but we gotta follow the rule. So, how about this, you like skating, right?

A now calm Neon simply nods her head as she continues to receive scratches.

Flynt: Then how about you do a little speed test, you race around the room a few times while Penny tracks your speed and you two talk as you go. Me and the boys can stay here and do some stretches while you ladies race and chat. Sound good to you?

Neon: Yeah…Sounds…good.

Flynt: Good.

Still scratching away, Flynt turns his head to Penny.

Flynt: Sound okay to you, Penny?

Penny: Since the activities are forms of training, yes that would be acceptable.

Flynt: Great, thank ya Penny.

Flynt takes his hand off Neon’s cheek onto her shoulder and rolls her towards Penny as he returns to his spot next to Ivori and Kobalt. Penny and Neon walk to the edge of the room near the entrance; once there, the two stand close to the wall, and Neon takes a starting stance. Penny clicks her heels together and starts her rocket boots; they’re on a lower setting to match Neon’s gliding and sets an internal stopwatch. Penny gives a quick glance to the boys, and they were indeed doing stretches as promised, then looks back to Neon. They make eye contact, Noen mouths, “Ready?” and Penny holds up a hand and starts counting down. 5….4……3….2….1.

Both girls dash off at tremendous speeds. They remain neck and neck as they go around the room and soon Neon starts talking again.

Neon: So what’s going on with this secret mission?

Penny: I’m investigating a crime, and I need to go undercover to find the perpetrator.

Neon: Cool, so are they just dropping you in or what?

Penny: No, because of the lifestyle and living situation of the people on the suspect list, I have to receive some training on how to behave and act without seeming suspicious.

Neon: Oh, is it like stealth training?

Penny: Yes and no, I’m taking etiquette lessons so that I may infiltrate Atlas high society.

Neon: Woah, really? Damn that’s like straight out of a spy movie! So who they got teaching you to act all distinguished and junk? I don’t know we had an expert on that stuff just lying around here.

Penny: We don’t, an elite is instructing me as a form of repayment for saving his life at a party.

Neon: Uh ew, you’re getting lessons from some old fart elite. Gross.

Penny: No, he’s actually a teenage boy. And he’s not gross; he’s very clean and friendly.

Neon: A teenager! They seriously gotta another kid teaching you? Way to pay off a life debt.

Penny: It’s actually very nice; Our ages being so close makes our dynamic fairly even, he’s intelligent, easy to talk to, and very kind, and the way he teaches is unique and very fun.

Neon: Ooooh cool. Is he cute?

Penny: He’s…more beautiful than cute.

Neon: Oh yeah? How exactly?

Penny: Well, he’s has a model’s figure, lean, long legs, high shoulders, and excellent posture. You could take a picture of him at any angle, and he’d always look amazing. His face is also gorgeous, pink lips that look nice even in a smirk, high cheekbones, a cute little nose, and his eyes! I’ve never seen a pair so blue and shiny before; they look like a deep sea with the brilliance of a gemstone. And his hair is so soft and neat that it looks like silk and is white as fresh snow.

Penny begins to sway from left to right, hands behind her back and a sweet smile on her face. She’s slowing down and moving further and further away from the wall as they go. Neon slows to match her speed.

Neon: Wow, so he’s grade A in the looks department. What about his personality?

Penny: As I previously stated, he’s very intelligent. He’s also creative and well-spoken I could talk with him for hours if I had the time to. He’s a bit abrasive, not cruel by any means just very direct and confident, and charming and witty (giggle), which is a little funny because his first name starts with Whit. (giggles)

Neon: (giggles) Sounds like you really really like this guy.

Penny: I do. Being around him is just so….wonderful. Sometimes when I’m with him, it feels like it’s just the two of us; I have his full attention, and he has mine. It’s very..cozy and a bit

A slight blush glows on Penny’s cheeks. She turns around and starts flying backwards.

Penny: exhilarating. So much so that sometimes I feel a little dizzy and get this thumping feeling in my chest when he looks at me for too long or says something really nice to me. It’s really-

Penny is intercepted by her accidentally backing into the wall of one of the obstacles. Luckily for her, her aura was active, and she had slowed down so much that the impact was damaging in the slightest. Still hurt a bit though.

Neon: Ooooooh shit.

Neon rushes over to Penny, having been in earshot of the collision come running to see if everything’s okay.

Flynt: I heard a bang. Who got hurt?

Kobalt: 5000 lien says Neon got bored and pushed her off a platform.

Ivori: Koco I swear to every God if you don’t stop I hit you right in the-

Neon: Will you two mouthy douche cakes shut up and actually help!

The two stop their bickering and go to Penny. They try to help her up, but Penny puts her hands up as they try, and they back up to give her some space. Penny turns off her boots, takes a second to regain her balance, and steadies herself fully on the floor. The team begin conversing about what’s just happened.

Ivori: Are you okay, dear? Do you need us to get someone?

Penny: No, thank you, I’m fine. My aura was activated, and it was a slow speed collision, so there was no damage aside from the initial shock of the impact.

Flynt: But why’d you crash?

Penny: I-

Neon: Oh, it was nothing really. Penny just go all wispy talking about this dreamy boy she met.

Penny: W-what? What are you-

Kobalt: Oooh, so that what you two were talking about. A boy.

Neon: Yup, she was so caught up in her gushing that she slammed herself into that wall. (laughs) Can’t say I blame her though, all cute girls go a little brain dead when they think about their crush. I know I did.

Kobalt: And since when did you count as a cute girl?

Neon playful elbows Kobalt in the side, and Kobalt returns the favor while Penny looks on, confused by their words.

Penny: Excuse me, but do you mean by a crush?

Neon: Oh, you know.

Penny: No, I do not know.

Neon: You know it’s when you really like someone.

Penny tilts her head to the side, confused.

Penny: But I like a lot of people.

Neon: Yeah, but a crush is when you really like someone. Like you like like them.

Penny: Like like?

Kobalt: You know, they make you feel all floaty, makes your head all foggy, and gives you butterflies in your tummy.

Penny: How would someone get insects in my stomach?

Neon and Kobalt sigh in unison, frustrated with her lack of knowledge. Meanwhile, Ivori walks up to Penny, dusts off her sleeves, and takes both her hands in his, taking over the situation.

Ivori: Sorry about those two. They have don’t know how to take anything seriously. Now the gist of what they were trying to say is that a crush is when you have some romantic feelings for someone.

Penny: Romantic..feelings?

Ivori: Yes, when you’re with this person, it’s very special. They’re beautiful to you; they make you feel warm and safe and happy. You want to hold them, laugh with them, kiss them, and just be romantic with them.

Penny: But I’ve never wanted to ki-

For a second, the unconscious thought of kissing Whitley plays through Penny’s mind. Suddenly the thumping in her chest returned, and her face started to redden. Penny tries to make the thought go away, but Ivori’s words keep replaying in her head, and memories of Whitley pour in with it. Her face gets redder and redder until she’s at the max amount of flushed her body can be. She tries to speak her mind still jumbled.

Penny: I-I d-don’t have r-romantic fe-feelings for hi-(hiccup)

Penny quickly rips her hands from Ivori and covers her mouth, astonished that she had somehow just said a lie.

Kobalt: The hell was that!

Penny: N-nothing (hiccup)

Neon: Wait a sec, I’ve heard about this. She hiccups when she lies. You lied, you’re totally crushing on this guy, aren’t you?

Penny: No I’m not-(hiccup)

Kobalt: Holy shit, that’s fucking adorable! Do it again! Do it again!

Neon: Penny’s got a crush, Penny’s got a crush.~

Neon chants in a sing-song voice, Kobalt chuckling at her side.

Penny: No, I don't-(hiccup) Stop it!

Neon continues to chant and Kobalt joins in, Penny just covers her face, silently praying for the ground to swallow her up and away from this as they continue heckling her. After a while Ivori decides that enough was enough and gets in the two jokesters faces.

Ivori: Both of you stop that right now! Can’t you see that hurting the poor girl’s feelings!

Neon: Ugh, Lighten up we’re were just kidding around.

Kobalt: Yeah, you’re supposed to tease people when they get a crush. We did the same thing to you.

Ivori: That was different, you don’t make fun of a little girl. Especially one like Penny.

Neon: Oh, come on, if she’s gonna be a soldier, she has to be able to handle some hazing.

Ivori: But you still shouldn’t be prying into her personal life like this.

Flynt: All three of you shouldn’t have been prying at all.

Flynt final chimes in, having stayed silent for far too long.

Flynt: Koco, Kitty cut it out right now; it's not funny. Ivy, you should’ve stayed out of it; you played right into their game and lost. Take your L and walk away.

The three listen and stop arguing, and Flynt turns to Penny. He takes off his shades, gives her a reassuring smile, and pats her shoulder.

Flynt: Penny, I understand you’re vulnerable and awkward right now, that’s normal. If you wanna talk about this, we’ll gladly listen but if not that’s okay too. We won’t push you, and I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable today.

Penny: Thank you Flynt Coal, your apology is accepted.

Flynt: Okay, now if there’s anything you need feel free to-

???: Excuse me.

Everyone stops in their tracks as a familiar voice rings out into the room. They look towards the door to see Winter walking towards them, stern-faced as always.

Winter: Apologies if I’m interrupting your conversation Team FNKI, but your time is almost up, and I need to have a talk with Penny. And since it seems like you have already finished up, I’d like you all to leave.

Flynt: Yes Ma’am, let's go people, time to bounce.

Flynt gives Penny a wave and heads towards the door, followed by Ivori, who gives her a sweet smile, followed by Kobalt, who ruffled her hair, and lastly Neon, who gave her a peace sign as she rolls past. Once they’ve left the room, Winter and Penny are left to converse.

Winter: Penny Polendina.

Penny: Yes, Winter Schnee.

Winter: I understand you have had a change in schedule.

Penny: Yes, I have.

Winter: When you return to your usual schedule, I’d like you to join me on my errand.

Penny: You mean the-

Winter: She’s asked for you, said that your presence was calming. I’ve already spoken to Ironwood, and he’s approved the change. As soon as your investigation is over, you’ll be accompanying me for this task twice a week. Understood.

Penny: Affirmative.

Winter: Excellent, now run along the carrier for the evening shift is leaving soon.

Penny: Yes Ma’am, have a good day.

Penny exists the room, leaving Winter alone to train, soon she’s back in Mantle and headed to the station to fill out her daily reports. It doesn’t take long as it has been a very uneventful day so she finishes in around two hours. From there she walks home, unlocking the door and stepping into the living room, turn on the lights as she enters.

Penny: I’m home-

Penny begins her usual greeting before remembering that she’s alone. Her smile drops and she heads to her room, taking off her boots along the way. She sets her backpack and boots down the flops onto her bed, she looks up at the ceiling, wonders what she should do until it’s time for her to sleep. She pulls out her scroll, hoping to find some entertainment, and notices a text from Neon reading “If you wanna any advice on how to get a date with Atlas boy, text me 😸🌈😉.” She goes red at the memory of teasing she received early and responds with a simple “No thank you.” She decides to go on her Individeo, a video, and streaming platform, app to watch some videos. She pulls up a video on making your own custom guns, she had seen the tile and saved it for another time days ago. As she watches she remembers that she saved this specific video to show her dad because she thought some of the ideas for the weapons could be used to improve some of their own guns. This realization weights on her as all the ideas and facts she wanted to discuss with her dad float around with nowhere to go. Speaking of her dad he wanted her to eat whiles he’s gone.

Now Penny could survive solely off of electricity but thanks to her biofuel converter and new nervous system she could enjoy food and turn it into fuel, making her more eco-friendly. She closes the video app and searches her memory bank for phone numbers for local restaurants that delivered. She forms a long list of options but as she has limited funds and would hate to inconvenience anyone Penny starts disqualifying the higher prices and further away eateries. Soon she narrows it down to a list of three options, a pizza place, a burger place, Ms. Ling’s. From there she evaluates them base on quality, quantity, and service rates. In the end logic and curiosity wins out as Penny picks out the one she never had before, pizza. She calls in for one medium-sized cheese pizza, just to test out the taste, and is told it will take 45 minutes to deliver. She takes this time to wash up and change into her pajamas. When the food does arrive she goes downstairs, pays, and takes her pizza. She sits the box on the table, opens it, and takes out a slice. Penny takes a bite and it’s greasy in a good way, the cheese is nice and stretchy, the tomatoes sauce compliments the cheese, and the crust has a pleasant crunch. But it just doesn’t feel tasty, it tastes good but for some reason, it just doesn't feel the way to supposed to. Penny eats two more slices then puts the rest away in the refrigerator. She goes back upstairs, brushes her teeth, plugs up, and heads to bed early.

She closes her eyes hoping to see her dad’s smiling face when she wakes again.

[artificialqueens]

I Know the Sound (Of Your Heart) (Rosnali) - Athena2

Denali works the overnight shift at a diner, and has a crush on the woman who hosts the radio show she listens to every night.

A/N: I've been busy with school and work lately, but I finally finished this and wanted to share it! Please leave feedback if you'd like, I really do love reading your comments. Thank you to Writ for beta-ing!

Title from the Sound by the 1975.

Denali doesn’t hate the night shift at the diner.

It has its slow times and busy times, especially on the weekends. It has its regular customers—the group of college kids that comes every Monday for all-you-can-eat-pancakes, the woman from the local paper who comes in a few nights a week and gets a to-go box of pastries for her coworkers on deadline. It has its good points, like her coworkers and the free slices of cakes and pies the owner lets them take, and its bad points, like the rude customers and weekend rushes.

It’s pretty much a typical nine-to-five--just nine at night until five in the morning.

The night shift isn’t ideal, but it’s easier with her schedule. She gets home a little after five in the morning, collapses into bed, and sleeps until ten or eleven. Then she heads to the ice rink and trains for hours before teaching a few afternoon lessons and going back to the diner. She’s tired, of course, so often it’s just her default state at this point. But the full-time coach at the rink is planning to leave soon, meaning she can pick up his hours and classes, and then she can quit the diner and practice more and get a reasonable amount of sleep. She just needs to tough it out another month or two, and she can do that. She’s been toughing it out on the ice for months, pushing past her bleary eyes and weary limbs to keep her place on the competition team.

She’s in the kitchen tonight, dropping baskets of fries into oil and making grilled cheese for the occasional customer, business mostly a crawl after eleven. But it’s quiet, and she gets to turn the owner’s ancient radio to her favorite station.

“--if you’re just joining us, welcome to the Pink Hour! Not sure why they call it that, because I’m here all night, but whatever, I just work here. I’m Rosé, I hope all you gorgeous listeners out there are having a lovely night.”

Denali leans against the grill and sighs. She found the show months ago, flipping through local radio stations on a drive home after forgetting her AUX cord. The host’s voice had pulled her in, and Denali stayed in the car for five minutes after reaching her apartment’s parking lot just so she could hear the rest of the story Rosé was telling. Within days, that station turned on the second her car roared to life, and she didn’t even bother with the AUX cord if she was driving at night. Not when she could listen to Rosé.

Her voice does something to Denali, makes her calm and happy all at once. It helps that Rosé tells hilarious stories about gigs she’s played and takes callers in between her song picks, playing their suggestions or giving them a listening ear or sharing some advice if they want it. It brings some excitement to an otherwise boring shift, gives Denali something to look forward to. The show runs from nine at night to five in the morning, and Denali likes that they have that in common, that they’re out there doing the same shift, with Rosé’s voice and perfect song selections keeping her company.

“I’m in a dancing mood tonight,” Rosé continues through the speakers. “I’d dance myself, but I’m too damn tired--hopefully they don’t bleep that out--so I’ll let ABBA take over. My parents played them all the time when I was a kid, and this one is my favorite.”

The unmistakable first notes of ‘Dancing Queen’ pour from the speakers, and Denali grins through her exhaustion, letting Rosé get her through the night.

---

“--So I’m standing there on stage, singing and minding my own business, and then a rat, a fu--a freaking rat runs in the bar. I ran for my life and tripped on the amp plug, and that, my lovely little listeners, is how I sprained my ankle last year. I just wish the story was more glamorous.”

Denali’s so lost in the story she accidentally tips an extra chicken tender in the fryer. Whatever, a little midnight snack won’t hurt. She brings the order out to one of two occupied tables, then devours her prize the second she’s out of sight. The radio is playing a Fleetwood Mac song, and Denali sighs as Brooke, the only other person working with her, pops in. They usually work the night shift together because Brooke spends her days training with some ballet company, and though they’re not super close, that combination of exhaustion and dedication has created an understanding between them, and one of them will often pick up the slack when the other is too tired to even stand.

“Contraband?” Brooke asks, nodding to Denali’s chicken-tender-stuffed cheeks. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

Denali finishes chewing and nods. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Still listening to that radio show? Why not just listen to a murder podcast like the rest of us?”

“Some of us aren’t obsessed with true crime, Hytes.” Denali rolls her eyes. “And why would I want to hear about people getting murdered on the way to their cars? I drive a car.”

Brooke snorts. “Fair.”

“I could probably kick their ass, though,” Denali says.

“You could,” Brooke agrees, then sighs. “I better get back out there. Enjoy the radio show.”

“Thanks.”

Denali turns it up a little after Brooke leaves, just in time to catch Rosé’s story about the song. Denali stands still as Rosé explains how she won her middle school talent show singing that song when she was just in sixth grade, how it made her want to sing all the time.

Denali can’t help but imagine Rosé singing, even if she doesn’t actually know what Rosé looks like. It would be easy to find her if she wanted to—the show has an Instagram page, and she would undoubtedly find Rosé there—but Denali likes the mystery of it. Likes keeping Rosé in her mind and behind her radio speakers. It’s ridiculous, probably, how much Denali likes hearing Rosé talk, but every word is so expressive, so passionate, and Denali feels like she’s gotten to know part of Rosé just through her stories, like how she got a guitar for her tenth birthday, or that she likes trying different fancy drinks when she goes to coffee shops, or that she had her first kiss in her car, hiding behind the high school gym--though that story makes Denali oddly jealous. It’s comforting, somehow, to know Rosé is out there, that she and Denali are occupying the same space and time, even if they’ve never met.

As long as Denali can hear her voice, things feel okay.

---

The nights continue, bleeding into days on the ice where the cold doesn’t even wake Denali up anymore because she’s so used to it. She’s tired, so tired she almost falls asleep in someone’s pile of leftover mashed potatoes, but she’s so close. The head coach is leaving in two weeks, and the rink’s manager already said the job is hers. Two more weeks and then she can sleep at night and be a normal level of tired like everyone else.

The song on the radio transitions into the crackling static of a caller connecting. Denali’s thought of calling in to request a song a few times, thinking that it would be like officially talking to Rosé--albeit over the phone--but she always chickens out before she can even type the first number. This is the most ridiculous crush Denali’s ever had, and she definitely has to call it a crush now, given all her fantasies of busting down the radio station’s door to ask Rosé out. She sighs and listens as the caller speaks. It’s a teenage boy, one trying and failing to sound older, telling Rosé about how he came out to his friends today, how they were so happy for him and want to throw a party this weekend. He had been nervous all week, the boy explains, and found Rosé’s show when he was up at night and used it to stay calm.

“Thank you,” Rosé says, and Denali can tell from how her voice is a little thick that she’s really touched. It’s not the first time she’s gotten calls like this, either. “I’m so happy things worked out for you. My friends and family were really supportive when I came out too, and I’m glad you’ll have that support. Be proud and be you, okay?” Rosé clears her throat. “Now, I hate to be that cheesy person--oh, who am I kidding, I love to be that person--but here’s a special song just for you.”

Denali laughs out loud as Diana Ross starts singing about coming out. This whole night, and how kind and genuine and sweet Rosé was, have only made Denali’s crush deepen. Maybe she should find Rosé, message her on Instagram. Denali can’t imagine seeing her in person, hearing that voice and that laugh so close. Finding out all the things about Rosé that she can’t get over the radio.

Maybe one day.

---

Denali’s almost home when she realizes she was so busy thinking about Rosé that she forgot her phone at the diner, and, tired as she is, she’d rather just go get it now than later. She trudges back in the place to hear a laugh--a laugh she knows for some reason, even if it doesn’t belong to any of her coworkers. And then she hears the voice, one excitedly reading out the pecan pancakes on the menu, and follows it to a booth in the corner. It’s coming from a woman with soft pink hair and a huge smile. She’s gorgeous, but it’s the voice that stops Denali in her tracks. Because she absolutely, unmistakably knows that voice. She listens to it every night, its smooth sound and cackling laughs flowing through the scuffed speakers of the radio.

The woman is Rosé.

It simply has to be. Even if Denali’s never seen her, she knows it has to be her. Who else could have that exact voice? Denali’s about to march over to the table when she slams into something, and looks up to see Brooke clutching her order pad in a death grip.

“What are you still doing here?” Denali asks.

“I was on my way out when that table”--Brooke nods to the corner--”came in. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a ridiculously beautiful woman at that table, and I’m gonna wait on her.”

Denali yanks the order pad out of her hand. “I’m waiting on her. Rosé is at that table!”

Brooke stares at her. “No, I think her name is Vanessa.”

Now Denali stares. What if she’s wrong and it’s not Rosé? She risks another glance at the booth and suddenly realizes there are two women there, and her eyes narrow. “Who are you talking about?” she asks Brooke suspiciously.

“The tiny one, with the brown hair.” Brooke crosses her arms. “Who are you talking about?”

“The one with the pink hair and the most amazing smile ever! She hosts that radio show I listen to every night!”

“Oh. Oh,” Brooke repeats, realization dawning on her. “Well, maybe we can both wait--“

“Excuse me,” a rough voice says, and Denali knows from Brooke’s deer-in-headlights-look that it’s the brunette. “Can someone show me where the bathroom is?”

“Brooke can,” Denali says, giving the blonde a gentle push, watching her trail with Vanessa out of sight and almost sprinting to the booth Rosé is now at by herself. She’s even prettier up close, with kind eyes and a perfect smile. Denali can do this. Except now that she’s here, she has no idea what she’s doing. Should she tell Rosé that she knows her? How creepy is it to admit that she recognized her voice?

“Can I help you?” Rosé asks, and hearing her voice close like this makes Denali surer than ever that it’s her. It sounds a little different in person, but it’s definitely her. It snaps her out of her thoughts, and she realizes she’s standing in front of the table in a waitress uniform with her mouth wide open.

“I should be asking you that,” Denali stammers, trying to recover. “Can I get you coffee or anything?”

“Can I get the caramel latte?”

“Of course.”

“My friend wanted coffee too, but I don’t think she’ll need it, considering how long she’s been in that bathroom with your friend.” She flashes a smirk, and Denali’s knees wobble.

“I don’t think she will either.” Denali snorts, but a rush of determination hits her. Things worked out for Brooke, so why can’t they work out for her too? And Rosé coming in here this morning—the morning Denali happens to forget her phone—feels like fate, like someone wanted them to meet. Screw it, Denali thinks. “Hey, uh, you have a show on the radio, right? Please don’t think I’m a creep, it’s just—I listen to it every night when I’m at work.”

“Always nice to meet a fan,” Rosé says. The smirk is still there, but it fades into a real smile. “But yes, I do have a show. I’m glad you like it.”

“I love you,” Denali blurts. “I--I love the show, I mean,” she says, her face on fire. “It’s kept me company at work. You’re really fun to listen to.”

“Thanks.” Denali might be imagining it, but there’s a hint of a blush in Rosé’s cheeks. “You probably know my name, but I’m Rosé.”

“I’m Denali.”

Rosé smiles again. “Denali, I think you’re pretty fun to listen to too. Would you want to go on a date sometime? Then we can listen to each other all night. I gotta warn you, though, I love to talk.”

“I’d love to. I can handle talking, believe me. Actually, you know what--” Denali slides into the other side of the booth, grinning at the excited look on Rosé’s face--”I’m off the clock. What do you say we have a date right now?” By the time she hits the ice she’ll be cursing herself for not sleeping, but she wants to talk to Rosé so bad, wants to spend this morning with her.

Rosé grins. “Absolutely. Do you think someone could get me that latte though?” she asks sheepishly. “I’m so tired.”

“Make that two.” Denali laughs and then flags down one of her coworkers, not wanting to miss a single second.