everyone needs to go see Project Hail Mary like right now oh my God
I read the book before I watched the movie and honestly I think that's how you should go about it. It provided some awesome light on the things that the movie didn't touch on. Most movies based on books usually make me like the books more but this movie just blows that outta the water. I'd say that the movie and book work hand in hand with one another, the book having the more scientific explanations for things, while the movie goes a bit more into the emotional bond between Rocky and Grace.
I cried three times while watching the movie, even tho I know what happens 🙃 I love it so much it's crazy. I will be going to see it again in theater as soon as possible!!!! Happy happy happy (*￣∇￣)ノ👎
Also the standie they had at my theater is so super cute, you can sit with Ryland and everything 💕
Listen you're the only person on the Internet equipped to answer this question. If Ryland Grace is the Jesus figure who died for humanity's absolution, what does that make Eva Stratt? Like allegorically, is she Judas because she betrayed him? Is she Pontius Pilate who put him to death? Somebody else? Multiple people?
Oh ! Uhm I might come back to this when im less sleepy. This doesn't really answer your question but she's always been like Eve to me (eve, eva, haha) gives Adam the fruit that dooms them both, punished with the pain of labor
Moon Joy June artists! Looking for a little inspiration?
The prompt for this week is “Launch.” Here is a small collection of photos of the launch of the Artemis II mission, which took place on April 1, 2026. What followed was ten days of our Artemis astronauts circling the Moon, returning to Earth, and experiencing pure Moon joy all throughout.
You can find more launch photos here.
If you’re feeling inspired to make some art, you can share your creations on Tumblr with the #ArtemisArtShow hashtag!
Angel of War, angular and strange, gleaming silver and gold,
Angel of Wonder, pure and one-eyed, looking to stars new and old,
Angel of Harvest, simple and hidden, bring nature's sweetness to all,
Angel of Health, mysterious and fine, beacon when life starts to fall,
Angel of the Deep, crooked and cage-like, guide us across the sea,
Angel of Solace, protect us from evil, lead us to where we are free.
Engineer reader with Grace and reader wasn't supposed to be there either. But they tested the coma on her and hauled her away too.
This is saaaaaad, sorry in advance. I kissed the brick before I threw it, if that helps LOL thank you for the prompt!!
With the Taumoeba breeding slowly progressing, there wasn’t much to do on the Hail Mary but wait. And there was less for you to do, seeing that you were the engineer, not the scientist. While Ryland was busy, then, you and Rocky spent a lot of time together. You taught him how the ship worked, explained things like jet propulsion, spin drives, microwaves. There was nothing Rocky wouldn’t ask questions about, which was a blessing and a curse.
Ryland would join you when he wasn’t focusing in the lab, taking over with Rocky to give you a break. It’s like he always knew when you were getting tired because he’d come traipsing down the hall with something new in hand, buying you time to make your escape.
Tonight was no different, you slipped away when Ryland put on a movie, smiling at the sound of Rocky’s excited taps and clicks. The sleeping quarters were quiet, the sheets were cool as you slid into them.
—------------------------------
The ground shook with the explosion, even all the way in the trailer you were assigned on the other side of the satellite field. You remembered the shock, your body moving on adrenaline as you ran with Dr. Grace to the lab. It was far, you both knew there would be no survivors by the time you got there, but you ran anyway.
The next few hours were a blur. Information kept rolling in, overwhelming accounts of experiments and astrophage and something about the engineers wanting to test the thrust power it could generate.
One thing you were well aware of, Dr. Grace just lost both of his scientists, and you lost both of your engineers. There were supposed to be failsafes in place, Stratt made sure of it, so how did four of the six people chosen for the mission all manage to get scheduled lab time together?
It was bad.
Stratt told you and Dr. Grace to check the lists of coma resistant volunteers again, instructed you to find people who would be able to learn fast.
You stepped out of your trailer with your pick in hand, heading to Stratt’s temp office to get her thoughts. She was sitting at her desk, head bowed over a notepad with her hasty writing on it. “Knock knock,” you announced your arrival, setting your documents in front of her.
“Please sit down,” Stratt says, slowly setting her pen aside.
“I found an astronautical engineer, he’s got the experience, I think he’d-”
“You know we can’t train him in time,” she interrupted. She said your name quietly, “you’re smart, you understand what needs to happen.”
You freeze, feeling cold all over. “I do?”
There’s something in her eyes, sadness, you think. You haven’t seen that from her before.
“We have to launch in three days, we cannot miss this window.” She’s holding eye contact, steady and calm.
“Please just listen. You’ve been with this project from the beginning, you designed the Hail Mary, no one knows that ship like you do.”
You’re trembling, you realize. She’s right, you understand what she’s about to ask. But how could she?
“We don’t need a replacement, you are my backup engineer.”
You close your eyes, trying to keep your breathing in check but god she’s making it hard.
“You’re asking me to volunteer for a suicide mission?” Your voice is a broken whisper and you hate how it sounds. She levels you with a look.
“I’m volunteering you to save the planet.”
A sob wracks through you before you can stop it, tears flowing freely. You know you can’t fight her on this, you understand the weight she’s carrying and you know she wouldn’t do this if there were any other choices.
“I-I can’t do this, Stratt.”
“Yes, you can. You’re overqualified for the job.”
“I don’t want to die,” you can barely get the words out but you can’t stop crying. “What does Yao think? He wouldn’t want this.”
And then you remember that you weren’t the only one who lost your team. “Where’s Dr. Grace?”
Stratt closes her eyes for a moment, when she looks at you again she’s all steel. “Dr. Grace is already going into coma prep. He will be the scientist on board.”
This is a new kind of horror, you think. “He agreed to go?”
A deep breath. “No.”
Oh god.
—-----------------------------------------
You wake with a gasp, your chest tight and vision blurry. Everything is too bright, too loud, you’re disoriented and scared and oh my god you’re in space. You’re in space and you didn’t want to be. You were sedated and loaded on the ship you designed, sent to die in a coffin of your own making.
You jump out of bed but your legs can’t keep up, you hit the ground and scramble until your back hits a wall. You can’t get a full breath in, you can’t focus on anything, all you can feel is fear. Panic grips you, threatening to drag you under the icy surface.
A gentle hand lands on your shoulder. A soft voice calls your name.
Ryland is there, crouched in front of you, his eyes so full of worry. “You’re okay, I’m right here. It was just a dream, it’s okay.”
You can’t do much more than look at him, still gasping for air, but seeing him feels like a lifeline. You’re here, Ryland is here, you faintly sense that Rocky is here too.
Ryland takes your hands and places them on his chest, “hey, just breathe with me, okay?”
It takes a few minutes of sitting like that before you can feel your breathing slow a little, Ryland talking to you gently the whole time. When your ears stop ringing you realize that he’s talking about the students he left on earth, some story about their science fair projects and how proud he was of them.
His hands are still holding yours against him, the pressure helping ground you. “Did you know, Ryland?”
“Know what?” He’s hesitant to ask, knowing you were recovering from a memory coming back, not a dream.
“That we didn’t volunteer for this?” You’re holding back tears, your throat going tight again.
The sigh he lets out is weighted. He can’t meet your eyes when he answers. “I knew that I didn’t volunteer. I wasn’t sure about you.”
You nod, fighting against your lungs to get in a deep breath. It’s not enough, you crumble. He falls forward, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your hair. He just holds you, letting you cry it out, hoping you feel any comfort at all.
Realization hits, at some point, that he just told you that he knew he didn’t want to go. He had remembered and he… didn’t tell you? Was he just carrying this by himself the whole time?
You push away from him just enough to see his face. “Ryland, how long have you remembered?”
Tears are streaming down his face too, his glasses pushed up on top of his head. “A few weeks,” he mumbles, nervously playing with the ends of your hair.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You wrap your arms around him, trying to return the comfort any way you could.
“If you volunteered, and you knew I didn’t…” He lets out a bitter noise, like he’s trying not to laugh at his own expense, “I’m not brave like you, I fought against being here every step of the way.”
You couldn’t believe him. You’d never met anyone as brave as Ryland Grace. He stepped up to every challenge, he science’d his way out of every problem, he made first contact with an alien and befriended it.
“Ryland, don’t say that. Please don’t say that. I wasn’t brave either, back then.” You’re still crying, you don’t think the tears will stop any time soon.
He considers your words for a moment, “you were always brave. I thought it was totally in-character for you to volunteer, you know?”
You lean your head against his chest again, “you were always brave too.”
He lets the words sit, holding you tight and choking back his own sobs. Rocky chooses that moment to roll over in his ball, pressing against you and Ryland.
It takes effort on your part, but you untangle yourself from Ryland enough to place a hand on the xenonite.
“I’m sorry you didn’t have a choice,” you whisper into Ryland’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t either,” he replies softly.
thinking about being an absolute menace with rocky on the hail mary.
-
Answering any and all of his questions--even the ones Grace refuses to answer.
"How mating work with humans, question?" Grace immediately sputters, head physically shaking with the weight of the uncomfortable question.
"Okay, I'm not...I'm not answering that."
"I will!" Grace whips his head around to see your hand held high up in the air, jogging over to Rocky with a mischievous grin. Grace's embarrassment turns into pure despair when he sees you plop yourself down next to Rocky's xenonite ball.
"Okay, so, when a female human and a male human love each other very much--"
You're cut off by a hand yanking you up by your shirt. When you spin around, you see Grace with the most desperate begging look you ever seen. "Please. Do not tell him. I won't hear the end of it--we won't hear the end of it." You giggle and oblige.
-
Teaming up against Grace.
"Grace--" Rocky says a word that hasn't yet been added to the translator. He taps his claws together. "Need word."
"Stupid?" You add, and your smile grows when you see Grace's back stiffen slightly.
"Have stupid."
Grace groans. "I should've never given him that one."
You tap your chin. "Dumb?"
"Have dumb."
You shake your head in amusement. "Give me somehting here, Rock."
Rocky tilts his carapace, reminiscent of a human tilting their head while in thought. "To not know. Not be aware in stupid way."
"Oh, ignorant!"
Grace just huffs in his seat. "Stop giving him more ammo to shoot at me."
-
You and Rocky annoying Grace.
"What'cha doing?" You ask, peering over Grace's shoulder.
"What Grace doing, question?" Rocky parrots as he follows behind you, clambering to a high point in his xenonite tunnel to look at what Grace is working on.
"I'm adjusting the nitrogen levels in the breeding tanks," He looks over his shoulder and bumps your chest with his elbow lightly. "Actually doing something useful, unlike somebody."
You fake a scoff, holding a hand up to your chest, and Rocky copies your actions - An offended chirp came from him, one of his arms pressed against his body.
"(Name) very useful. Does useful things all times." Rocky defends you, and Grace turns to look at him, hand braced on his hip.
"Oh, yeah? Like what?"
Rocky puffs out his 'chest'. "Keep Rocky from dying of boredom, unlike Grace."
You giggle, and Grace playfully pushes your shoulder without looking at you. He tilts his head at Rocky incredulously. "Really? Like I don't?"
Rocky nods. "Grace work all time. Work work work," Rocky's carapace shifts downwards, as if he were bowing his head. "Make no time for Rocky." If you weren't busy trying to hold in your laughter, you would be admiring the translation system's ability to pick up on Rocky's sarcasm.
"Y-Yeah, I can't-" A chuckle escapes your mouth as you try to speak. "Can't believe you won't make time for Rocky!" You burst out into a fit of giggles, and Ryland can't help but chuckle with you.
#i like to think data took him all the way to the brig tossed him in and left#and then came back 60 seconds later and was like ‘i believe i have successfully played a ‘practical joke’ on you :)’#riker loses it & claps him on the back like ‘wow. good job u rly had me going. dont ever fucking do that again’
Perfect.
Actually it’s 73 seconds. Data, knowing something of how human minds work, estimates that Riker will give him 60 seconds to come back (because humans prefer “round numbers”, however arbitrary the units). After 60 seconds it will take 4 seconds for Riker to fully process the conclusion that Data is, in fact, not coming back after all, and an additional 9 seconds to build to the optimum level of anxiety.
warnings : visit to the principal's office; split lip; school fight; fake wife; sexist comments; emotionally unstable adults; criticism of parenting
note : You wanted to help Holly at school, it turned out to be a disaster
a/n : A thought occurred to me. And then it happened.
[Ryland Grace masterlist][main masterlist]
The principal’s office was washed in late afternoon sunlight. Behind a desk buried under stacks of paperwork sat a middle-aged man who already looked like he regretted being involved in any of this.
You sat across from him beside Holly. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her expression caught somewhere between fear and defiance. When she’d called you earlier, she’d said, “It’s not a big deal,” which honestly should’ve worried you immediately.
Your eyes drifted to the other man in the room. Expensive suit. Perfectly trimmed mustache. Beside him sat a boy with a split lip and the kind of smug expression that made your teeth grind.
The principal sighed heavily. “So,” he began carefully, “I think we can discuss this calmly. Like responsible adults.”
“Calmly?” the suited man interrupted sharply, glaring at you. “Your daughter assaulted my son.”
Holly shifted beside you and muttered under her breath, “He deserved it.”
“Holly,” you said quietly, touching her shoulder.
The man scoffed loudly. “See? That’s exactly the problem. No discipline. No respect. Girls like her practically invite trouble, and then act shocked when it finds them. Someone should teach her consequences.”
You felt Holly tense beside you.
The principal cleared his throat nervously. “Mr. Patterson…”
“No,” you interrupted smoothly, your voice calm. “I’d really love to hear this. What exactly did your son do before she hit him?”
The boy avoided eye contact immediately, but his father inhaled deeply. “That’s irrelevant. A young lady should never behave like that. We’re not animals.”
“Young lady,” you repeated flatly.
Holly shot you a quick glance. She knew that tone.
Mr. Patterson leaned back comfortably in his chair. “If she were my daughter, she would’ve learned respect a long time ago.”
You studied him carefully. Every word out of his mouth sounded like a countdown to disaster.
“Please,” you said softly. “Go on.”
“I’m saying girls need structure. Hierarchy. A firm hand. It’s obvious she doesn’t have a father around willing to handle that properly.”
Holly lifted her head, ready to speak, but you were faster.
“Careful, Mr. Patterson. I’d choose your next words very wisely.”
The principal rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Please, everyone, this really isn’t necessary.”
“No!” Patterson snapped, his cheeks turning red. “Modern women think they can raise children alone, and then they’re shocked when those children turn into little criminals!”
“Your son called her a slut!” you shot back.
Silence crashed over the room. The only sounds left were the hum of the fan and faint typing somewhere outside the office.
“I didn’t say that,” the boy muttered without looking up.
“Oh, yes you did,” Holly snapped. “And you tried to yank my backpack away from me.”
His father waved a dismissive hand. “Boys tease girls. That’s normal at their age. She’s oversensitive.”
“She hit him because he wouldn’t let her go,” you replied coldly.
“She hit him because nobody taught her how to behave!”
“And nobody taught your son to keep his hands to himself!”
Mr. Patterson stood abruptly. “Excuse me?”
You stood too. “Oh, don’t be dramatic. You’re not nearly intimidating enough for me to be afraid of you.”
“Ma’am…” the principal tried weakly.
“No. This man does not get to sit here pretending his son is innocent while blaming Holly for defending herself.”
“She attacked him!”
“He was harassing her!”
“She’s unstable! Just like her mother!”
“At least she’s not being raised into a future predator.”
“Okay!” the principal slammed a hand against the desk as he rose to his feet. Silence fell again.
Holly stared at you with a mix of horror and admiration. The principal looked like he’d aged five years in the last ten minutes and deeply regretted inviting any of you into his office.
He opened his mouth to speak, probably to desperately salvage the situation, when sudden commotion erupted in the front office.
“Sir, please wait, you can’t go in there right now!” the secretary called out.
“That’s my daughter in there,” a familiar voice answered sharply, “and I’m about to be in there too.”
You and Holly looked at each other instantly.
“Oh my God,” you whispered, staring at the door in alarm.
A second later it burst open. Every head turned.
Holland March looked furious. Or worse, he looked furious and completely in control of it. His tie sat crooked like he’d put it on while driving over here, his hair slightly messy. The second he entered, his eyes locked onto Holly.
“You okay?” She nodded immediately. Then his gaze flicked to you. “And you?”
“Mostly.”
His jaw tightened.
The principal straightened up quickly, scrambling to regain authority. “Mr. March. I’m very glad Ms. Smith finally managed to reach you. We gathered here today to…”
“Who,” Holland interrupted calmly, “called my daughter a slut?”
The principal froze. Even you didn’t dare speak. Holly visibly sank lower in her chair.
Mr. Patterson finally recovered enough to sneer, “Your daughter assaulted my son.”
Holland looked at the boy, nodded once, and said, “She should’ve hit him harder.”
“Holland!” you hissed.
“What?” he said defensively. “I’m right.”
“Mr. March…” the principal tried again.
Patterson scoffed loudly. “Your daughter is violent because neither of you know how to parent properly.”
Holland studied him carefully. Then he smiled. Softly. Dangerously. “Oh, buddy…” he said gently. “You picked the wrong damn family today.”
The man swallowed hard. Sweat gathered at his temples as his fingers tightened around the arms of his chair. “Maybe if you controlled your woman instead of letting her run her mouth,” Patterson spat, “your household wouldn’t be such a disaster.”
The principal groaned quietly and dropped back into his chair, covering his face with both hands.
“Holland…” you whispered, grabbing his arm. “Please.”
“No, sweetheart,” he said calmly. “Let him finish.”
Patterson crossed his arms. “Your wife has disrespected everyone in this room. You should teach her some manners. She barged in here like a damn wild animal, insulting everybody, refusing to listen, that kid clearly takes after her.”
Holland looked at you then. There was no anger in his expression. No disappointment. Quite the opposite. He’d seen the way you defended Holly without hesitation. He knew you would tear the world apart for that girl if you had to.
“You know what, Mr. Patterson?” Holland said lightly. “She could handle you just fine without me here. We’re only trying to save the principal some extra paperwork.” His voice stayed calm, almost amused. “Honestly, I mostly stopped you from ending up looking like your son.”
“Holland…”
“What?” he asked innocently. “I’m not lying.”
Then he looked back at Patterson and his son for the final blow. “If you ever touch my daughter again, she’s gonna break your nose. I’ll personally make sure she knows how.” He pointed at Patterson next and nodded at you. “And if you ever speak to her like that again, she’ll break yours too. Understood?”
Holly shifted awkwardly in her chair. Then Holland glanced at her.
“You’re grounded.”
“Dad!” she groaned.
Holland looked back toward the principal, adjusted his tie slightly, and smiled politely. “So. We done here?”
The man nodded helplessly. He clearly had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do anymore. Without another word, you grabbed Holly by the arm and walked out into the hallway. None of you spoke until you reached the parking lot outside. The second the warm sunlight hit her face, Holly grinned.
“That was AWESOME. Patterson was literally about to piss himself.”
“You’re still grounded,” Holland muttered. “Get in the car.”
Holly rolled her eyes dramatically and shuffled toward dad’s car. Holland turned toward you then, his expression difficult to read.
“You know,” he said slowly, “I was pretty surprised when the school called and said my daughter and my wife were sitting in the principal’s office.”
You sighed. “I never told them I was your wife. I was trying to handle this calmly, but that guy…”
“If you hadn’t shown up, she would’ve ripped that man into tiny little pieces!” Holly yelled from the car window.
“That is not true!”
“I saw your face,” Holland murmured, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. “Honestly, I think I saved his life.”
“She liked threatening him,” Holly added smugly.
“I like watching idiots get what’s coming to them,” Holland corrected immediately.
Holly gasped dramatically. “Is this your foreplay? Because if it is, I want to be adopted.”
“HOLLY!” both of you shouted at once.
She slumped back into the passenger seat. “I’m just saying…”
You pulled your keys from your pocket, glancing toward your own car before looking back at Holland. He’d just lit a cigarette.
“You know…” you started quietly, flicking a glance toward Holly to make sure she wasn’t listening. “The way you walked in there. The way you looked at me…”
“Hm?”
“That was hot.”
His eyebrows lifted instantly, eyes gleaming. “Oh? Really?”
“Yeah. Watching you defend us. Watching you shut that guy down…”
He laughed softly, smoke curling from his lips. “I was barely holding it together. Internally, I was emotional Jell-O.”
You stepped closer, fingers curling into the front of his jacket. “Didn’t notice,” you murmured. “All I saw was a strong man standing up for his girls.”
Holland exhaled slowly and tilted his head back with a groan. “Shame we probably can’t send her to bed any earlier tonight…”
He looked down at you for a second longer, cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. Then his hand slid around your waist, pulling you just a little closer.
“Y’know,” he murmured quietly, “seeing you go feral in that office might’ve been the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
From the car, Holly choked loudly. “Oh my God, can you wait until I pass out?”
Ryland Grace X Reader ~~ Childhood Friends to Lovers ~~ 2K Words
I used to hear a simple song; That was until you came along
Now in its place is something new; I hear it when I look at you
Requested by: @natari55
A/N: Thank you so much for your request <3 I hope you enjoy! This was so fun to write! <3
Being childhood friends with Ryland Grace meant one of two things: you were either a science nerd yourself, or you were dragged along with every experiment he did.
From making your own lava lamps in 3rd grade, to the infamous volcano you both made in 7th grade, to even sitting beside him as he delves even deeper into molecular biology during the late stages of high school.
You were there every step of the way.
But let's go back to the beginning.
Second grade was never easy when you didn’t have very many friends, Ryland Grace had found out. Nobody to talk with at lunch, nobody to play tag at recess, very few kids even spoke to him.
But he didn’t mind.
He had his science books to keep him company.
The ones that covered different animals, the ones that introduced physics and chemistry in ways that little minds could comprehend.
Why have friends when books taught you so much more?
Until… you came along.
You had moved into his class in the middle of the year.
Little you with your arms wrapped tight around a stuffed animal the teacher had let you hold onto since you were new, and the change was still scary.
You gravitated towards him like a bolt to a magnet. (Ryland had just read about magnetism)
His quiet was what you needed during your adjustment period, sitting beside him everywhere he went, having him read to you all of the books that he liked.
He now had somebody to talk to at lunch, to play hide and seek at recess, somebody to talk to.
He found someone to share an interest with.
Maybe friends weren’t so bad.
Ever since then, you two were joined at the hip. Anywhere one was, the other was sure to follow.
The school even knew to keep your schedules the same, lest they deal with a complaint straight from the duo themselves.
As your bodies grew, so too did your minds.
Ryland gravitated towards biology in the early stages of high school, with heavier science topics than what you could even follow sometimes.
And you gravitated towards your interests.
You graduated together, took pictures in your caps and gowns that still hang on your very fridges to this day.
But then Ryland went off to college.
The letters and calls became fewer and fewer every week, until you barely heard from him at all.
“He’s in college!”
“He’s getting his doctorate!”
“He’ll be a molecular biologist!”
“Aren’t you proud?”
That’s all anyone would say to you when you conveyed your troubles, voiced your need for comfort when the boy you were so attached to… left when he had become a man.
And yeah, you were proud of him. So proud.
But it still hurt.
Just like he had become a man, you had become a woman.
You got a job at a coffee shop, an apartment that you decorated with your interests, other people to hang around and be friends with.
It was a swell life that you had made for yourself, even with the very large piece that was missing in your soul.
They weren’t as nerdy as him.
They didn’t like science as he did.
They wouldn’t understand you like him.
But you lived.
The coffee shop had been as busy as usual, the smell of coffee sticking to your skin, seeping into your pores.
At least you enjoyed the smell.
The bell chimes like it always did when somebody enters or leaves, footsteps head your way, and your hands instinctively straighten out your apron as you look up.
You freeze.
That face.
That blond hair.
Those blue eyes.
Those dumb glasses.
Ryland Grace.
Ryland Grace was standing in the coffee shop you worked in, staring at you like a deer in headlights as he too took in your features for the first time in a handful of years.
He had grown into his features since the last time you saw him, no longer the awkward teenager that you sat beside in the cafeteria.
He was a man now. (A very handsome one, the voice in the back of your mind whispered teasingly)
“Hey.”
Is all he speaks.
Before he promptly turns around, leaving the coffee shop as fast as his feet could carry him, almost knocking into a few customers who were on their way in.
Later that night, he would hit himself over the head multiple times with his pillow for saying something so stupid after so long being apart.
The next few days would all be the same.
You standing at the counter, watching as Ryland passes by the window of the shop. He’ll look in, stop for just a few seconds as if he’s contemplating going inside, make eye contact with you, and quickly turn his head and walk briskly past the door.
You were even able to time it down to the second on when he would appear.
It was the sixth day when he finally walked past the door and into the coffee shop.
He stands in front of the counter, staring down at you like he has been doing all week, his hands shoved into his pockets to keep himself from twiddling his thumbs like he always did when he was nervous.
You weren’t the same girl anymore from high school.
Just like he did, you had grown into your features.
Something so familiar, yet distinctly you.
He takes in a breath.
“Hi.”
Your eyes take him in, and even after years apart, you could still understand his tells. You could always figure out when he was nervous.
He was never good at hiding it.
“Hello. Can I get you something?”
Your number. Your time. The spot in your soul that he had wrongfully assumed had been filled by someone else.
But he would never voice such things.
“Just a coffee.”
You nod and work efficiently, handing him the cup after another worker helped him with paying.
Your fingers brush just barely in the exchange.
It wasn’t voiced, but you both felt that shiver roll up your spines at the exact same time.
This became a routine for Ryland.
Just a coffee.
That’s all he ever ordered, a few words spoken between the two of you before he makes his way towards the same booth, watching you as you work.
His eyes would always flick down to the table whenever you looked over, acting as if the small crumb beside his cup was as interesting as the DNA repair mechanisms he had studied day in and day out.
But his gaze would always flick back up to you after a minute, finding your attention back on whatever order you had been working on.
His presence became a routine for you as well.
He always came at the same time, stayed for the same amount, and headed the same way when he left.
Your hands grip onto the cloth you used to wipe down the counter, staring over at his seated figure, watching as he gently flicks around a small seed from a poppyseed muffin that had been left there by a previous customer.
Gosh, if he were anybody else, you would say he looked downright pathetic.
The sideways glances he threw your way, the perk of his shoulders when your voice would echo through the shop.
But he wasn’t anybody else.
He was Ryland Grace.
Your childhood best friend.
Releasing a sigh, you toss down the rag and grab a chocolate chip and pecan cookie from the bakery case, already determining that it would come from your check.
You didn’t seem to mind, though.
Heating it just the right amount, you make your way over towards Ryland, his eyes widening when they take in your form coming his way.
His mind went into overdrive, trying to figure out something, anything, to say to you.
He had a doctorate in molecular biology, for goodness sake.
But nothing leaves his lips aside from the smallest of sounds, a pitiful whine as you place the small plate with the cookie in front of him, and make your way back behind the counter.
He stares down at the cookie, his favorite.
You remembered.
Something in him warms at the thought.
You remembered.
And that little movement had been added to the routine.
He would come in and order a coffee, and 15 minutes into him sitting at the booth, you would come around and silently place the cookie in front of him.
No words were said.
Just sideways glances.
They told enough.
And one day, a month into the routine, you changed it with no words said, placing the cookie in front of him like always. But a little note was set beside the cookie.
Ryland’s brows furrow, opening the little slip and finding a myriad of numbers written as neatly as you could in the rush of the coffee shop.
Your phone number.
His heart skips a beat in his chest as he realizes what treasure you had bestowed upon him.
He almost didn’t feel worthy since there wasn’t much spoken between you.
But when he looked over towards you, his glasses hanging down his nose, his eyes wide in shock, he took you in.
Your gaze was flickering over to him, and on your lips was a smile.
One he hadn’t seen you make in years.
One he couldn’t wait to see again.
The texts came first, and then the calls. They started as just small talk, getting to know each other again.
Until they grew into hours of conversation.
You learned that Ryland was no longer in the science field but had instead become a teacher.
He wouldn't tell you why, though; the embarrassment and frustration that entered his tone were enough to clue you in on what happened.
You tell him about your life, what you've accomplished, how you've been doing ever since he left for college and re-entered your life.
He listened intently to every word you spoke into the phone.
The routine between you stayed the same.
Except now it added sideways glances and smiles you both tried your hardest to keep hidden.
Your coworkers called him your admirer.
Even with every denial in your tone, you could understand why. You always felt the pinprick of his stare against your back.
And as time went on, you found yourself growing used to such a feeling.
Two months had passed since he first walked into the coffee shop.
A month and a half of figuring each other out from the ground up.
A month and a half of feelings you had continuously pushed deep every time you saw that familiar head of blond hair.
Your break times were usually filled with sitting in the back, scarfing down a complimentary bakery treat, and chugging a drink you had made for yourself.
But this time, you decided to take your break with Ryland instead, sitting across from him in that same booth he had deemed his own.
His words fill your ears, and you occasionally pitch in your two cents after swallowing a bite of your treat and a sip of your drink.
And in the passion of his explaining something his students had done during class, his hand placed itself on top of your own on the table.
He didn't seem to notice, too enthralled with telling you about the failed science experiment that he struggled to clean from the walls, but you did.
You noticed the warmth of his hand against your skin, the slight callous from his work as a scientist, the way it felt so right.
And without saying a word, you slowly turn your hand over under his to where your palms touch, your fingers gently intertwining with his.
That finally causes him to choke on his words, his eyes snapping down to your hands, his brain pausing every process power it had as it takes in the sight before him.
But with a gentle squeeze of reassurance from your hand, and a soft smile on your lips as you look up at him, he slowly starts telling his story once again.
His voice trembles ever so slightly because in the back of his mind, something clicks, a wire connects between neurons.
summary: After Ryland walks you home from work (at Cleveland Grover Middle) and after you said goodbye, you realize that you should've kissed him. Little do you know, Ryland is still standing outside of your door, contemplating the same thing.
wordcount: 1121
warning(s): none!
author's note: Just a little "drabble" (if you can even call it that) I thought this was cute. I hope you like it, I have never really written something this short before. But I wanted to give you something while I continue working on the enemies to lovers fic.
I hope there's no typos I wrote this in a cafe, in between meetings, so don't go too hard on me!
Also! you can now access my masterlist through the link in my bio!
______________________
There was a deep feeling of panic, and confusion setting into your chest as you were standing in your apartment doorway.
You were facing your living room, your back pressed against the cold door as you watched the rain pour down outside of your window. You were soaked from head to toe, and had just said goodbye to your best friend Ryland, who you happened to be falling for.
Ryland and you had become inseparable since you started teaching at Cleveland Grover Middle, so it was no surprise to you when he offered to walk you home when it started pouring rain. The thing was…recently you started to notice some signs that he might be falling for you too, hence the confusion.
You interrogated your memory, thinking back to the walk home just then, putting your hands over your wet face:
He gave you his yellow raincoat, leaving him in just his blazer in the pouring rain, he walked five blocks from the school to walk you home, the opposite direction of his apartment…he lingered in the doorway when he said goodbye…
“Oh my god,” You gasped, removing your hands from your face. “I should’ve kissed him.”
You panicked, reaching for your phone, your heart was beating fast. You began anxiously pacing back and forth, thunder clapping in the background as the sun began to go down.
You could call him, but what would you say? ‘Hey, were you wanting to kiss me back there? Come over and kiss me then”? You shook your head, you groaned in embarrassment.
“He’s probably long gone by now.” You rationalized out loud.
You laughed at the absurdity of you talking to yourself. You took a deep breath, and decided you were going to go downstairs to check the mail, before brewing yourself a cup of coffee, you'd figure this out later.
You picked up your keys that were on the kitchen island and headed to the door and began rationalizing again:
You would tell him how you felt next time you saw him, and if he didn’t feel the same then you could still be friends and you knew Ryland, he would be so sweet about it too, although it would be a little awkward—
You opened up the door and Ryland was pacing back and forth in your hallway. He was still just as drenched as you were. His yellow jacket that you gave back draped over his shoulders, his arms not in the arm holes.
His head jolted up to meet your eyes, and your heart sped right back up, he paused his pacing and walked a little closer to your doorway. His wet hair stuck to his forehead. His glasses were fogged up and now rested on top of his head, his hands were interlaced in front of him in thought. You could tell he was being shy, by the way he rocked back on his feet and ducked his head a little.
It was so endearing whenever he got shy, you were so used to the confident science teacher every student looked up to.
Ryland had a way of turning his awkwardness into confident lectures, as if his awkwardness came from years of people not willing to pay attention to him. So he became confident when teaching because it was the one way he could actually talk about the cool science stuff he cared about. Because the students also genuinely cared.
“Were you…pacing back and forth just now?” You asked, too nervous to say anything else.
“Yea, I was." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I was thinking about this theory.” Ryland said, scrunching his nose.
“I think we might be thinking about the same one.” You barely whispered, hopeful you were right. “But you should share it with me anyway.” You said seriously, your keys now falling out of your hand, abandoned to the floor inside your doorway.
Ryland was now standing close in front of you, his hands moving as he spoke.
“My theory is that you wanted me to kiss you.” Ryland blurted out. “I could be completely wrong— or maybe I just wanted to kiss you—okay mostly I wanted to kiss you—”
Your heart shuddered in relief, you had in fact not read the signals wrong, he was falling for you too.
“Maybe you should run an experiment.” You said, your eyes lingering on his.
He paused, then his eyes lit up in recognition, you could hear his breath hitch as he nodded. He stepped closer toward you, placing his hands on the side of your arms. You shivered out of coldness, wanting him to be much closer than he was. Wanting him to warm you up.
“Let’s hope this experiment is successful.” He mumbled.
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be.” You said.
He looked you in the eyes shyly, before leaning his head down to hover his lips over yours. You could feel his breath, his nose grazing your cheek. Until finally, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.
Your body relaxed as you lifted your arms to circle around his neck, pulling back from the kiss, just to kiss him harder, tugging at his hair between your fingers as you kissed him back hungrily. It was as if all the tension between you two came down to this, as if you had both been thinking about this for a long time, and you could feel his mouth upturn into a smile.
"I'm so glad you didn't leave, I was pacing back and forth thinking about this too." You admitted, kissing him again.
Ryland sighed, "Yea?" He asked, you could feel a smirk pressing against your mouth.
You pulled your hands from his hair, and ran them down over his clothed chest, and a groan escaped his mouth as he prodded at your lips with his tongue. His arms wrapped around you, running up your waist to your back, pulling you flush into his body.
After a few minutes, you pulled back breathless, your forehead pressed against his, you laughed into his mouth. You could feel the slight burn on your face from his stubble, and you reached your right hand up to graze your fingertips against his face to feel it.
“I think your experiment was well executed.” You whispered, placing a chaste kiss on his upper lip.
“Wow—you are amazing, I mean I knew that already but—” Ryland said through the silence, stumbling on his words. “Why didn’t we ever do this before?” He asked.
“At least we’re doing it now.” You sighed.
You grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him inside, shutting your door and his yellow jacket soon became abandoned on your apartment floor.
