Warnings: soft angst? (enemies to lovers, kind of)
Summary: An annoying encounter with a stranger has your mind bubbling with questions.
Author’s note: I’m calling these The Psychology Trilogy (I love that it rhymes hahah), anyways here’s part 1, enjoy!
I dedicate this to @celestialcat44 since your comments gave me motivation to finish this.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
How you and your best friend worked? No one understood. He was the classic nerd: hyper focused on school, read a lot of books, prefered to stay home on friday nights and was very introverted. You, on the other hand, were the classic jock: captain of the women’s football team, always in the gym, couldn’t refuse the offer of a Friday night out and had the easiest time making friends.
Being complete opposites always got people confused as to what caused that friendship to bloom. Honestly, you didn’t know the answer either. It just happened, and when you noticed, you two were best friends.
You would always try to convince him to come with you to parties, which he almost never gave in to, but when he did, he was always the charm of all the girls. The guy was hot when he put in some effort.
He, on the other hand, would always encourage you to read some of his favourite books. You tried a couple of times, but reading just wasn’t your thing. Diego though, was a stubborn ass.
That’s why you are here right now. In a library. The endless rows of shelves, filled to the brim with books bored you to death.
“Oh c’mon, don’t make that face.” Diego practically squealed by your side.
You rolled your eyes and groaned dramatically as he pulled you through the corridors. You almost ran into him when he abruptly stopped, reaching his hands and taking a handful of books.
“Here, hold this.” He started to hand out several novels.
“Can we go now?” You whined, offering him your best puppy eyes.
“No.” He didn’t even look at you. “Why would you even want to go? This place is beautiful, so many stories, so much excitement-”
“So much boredom,” you cut him off, “seriously, what’s so special about books? They waste a whole lot of paper, are ridiculously long and make me want to sleep. Why would someone read one when you can get the same experience from a movie, which takes a tenth of the time to finish and have cool visual effects.” You argued.
“But from movies you are bound to the visuals it offers, it gives no space for your imagination to create the scenarios.” A female voice came from the end of the corridor.
You hadn’t noticed the girl there, peacefully sitting with a book open in hands.
“Imagination seems exhausting, isn’t this supposed to be relaxing?” You retorted.
“Maybe it isn’t relaxing for you because all that time in front of the TV killed all your brain cells.” She mocked with an amused smile while you just had a shocking expression, not expecting her to be so blunt.
“Okay, first of all, how would you even know I spend that much time in front of the TV?”
“Just a hunch.”
“A wrong hunch.” You said, even though she was right, but that didn’t mean anything. “And second of all, did you just call me dumb?”
“If the shoe fits.” She shrugged.
“It doesn’t.” You got defensive. “And who do you even think you are going around insulting people you don’t even know?”
“Prove it.”
“What?”
“Pick a color.” The look on your face was a mixture of anger and confusion.
“Why do you want me to pick a color?”
“Just pick.” She ignored you.
“Red. Like my desire to punch you in the face right now.” The statement didn’t seem to faze her at all.
“A person.”
“Can I pick an object? Like a brick?” Sarcasm dripping on your voice. She just stared, waiting for an answer. “Diego.” You gave in, pointing at the boy standing behind you who had fallen silent while watching the interaction.
“Best friend?”
“Why do you care?” You wanted to leave this conversation, but your curiosity wouldn’t let you, forcing you to stay and figure out where she was getting at with the weird questions.
“A place.”
“As far away from you as possible.” The smirk that made its way into her face made your blood boil.
What kind of game was she playing? You didn’t even know her name and still she was here insulting you for no reason at all and asking weird questions. And, of course, your curious brain kept you from leaving.
You watched intently as she turned her gaze towards the sea of books. She studied it for a minute, clearly in deep thought, until she picked out a volume and handed it to you.
“Seriously?” You gestured dramatically, not even giving the object a second glance. “A book? You insult me, then ask me all these weird questions just to give me a book?” You let out a forced laugh, as if she had told you the worst joke ever.
“Prove that you haven’t killed all your brain cells yet.” You shot her an incredulous look.
You threw the book back into the shelf, tired of this ridiculous game.
“Look, I have better things to do with my life,” at that you turned around and left, but not before catching the apologetic look Diego sent towards the girl.
Diego didn’t utter a word as you marched towards the exit of the library, nearly running into you when you abruptly stopped upon reaching the sidewalk. You took a long breath to calm your nerves while you decided where to go now.
“You could’ve been nicer.” He mumbled.
“She could’ve been less of a bitch.” You uttered agrily.
“Yeah, that too.” He agreed, more out of fear of pulling your strings any further. “What was up with the questions though?”
“Who cares,” you shrugged, forcing a smile as an attempt to cheer yourself up, “she’s just a pretentious freak who thinks she’s better than everyone. C’mon,” you hooked your arm with his, “let’s do something fun and get our minds off of it.”
You pulled him down the street towards your favourite place to go, the arcade. The place was old and nearly falling apart, but it was where you and him had been coming ever since you were little kids and it never failed you in your moments of stress.
You stayed there until dawn, losing yourself in all kinds of games. And for that time, you completely forgot about the whole ‘library inconvenient’.
Once back home, the images from earlier came flooding back.
Why did she feel the need to be so rude? Who even was she? Maybe she went to the same college as you, but you never really noticed her? That would explain a few things. And what was up with a person, a color and… a place, was it? What did that mean?
Those questions roaming around your head lulled you to sleep.
You spent the next day looking around for the girl. Around campus, in your classes, anywhere you walked by, but didn’t get a glimpse of her.
Paying attention to the professors was a challenge, your mind trying to piece together the puzzle of what had happened.
A color.
A person.
A place.
What was she getting at? It might have been curiosity, although that wouldn’t explain anything. You distinctly remember the cover of the book she handed you, and it was not red, so that wasn’t much help either. When she asked about a person you said Diego, how was that helpful to her at all. The book couldn’t be about Diego. And the place, you didn’t even give her an actual place.
Maybe they were disconnected, the questions and the book. That didn’t lead you to any answers either. It would make no sense for her to ask those things and then just hand you a random book. Why would she even suggest a book to a person who clearly doesn’t like to read?
She must have some loose screws or something.
“Yo, Y/L/N.” A voice caught your attention while you made your way to your last class of the day.
“Angie, haven’t seen you all week,” you greeted the girl, offering her a smile.
“Had to skip practice to help my grandma,” she explained, “but it’s Friday night and she promised to lay me off today.”
“So I assume you’re going to the party tonight?”
“Who do you peg me as?” She feigned offense. “Of course I’m going, can’t let my boy from University of Westview get too handsy with other girls now can I?”
“Ah, yes, the one with the silver hair, how could I forget.” You teased her.
“So… my house, seven?” She asked while walking backwards, facing you.
“Aren’t you even going to ask if I’m going?” Your voice was loud to cover the distance that was growing between you.
“Why would I? You never say no to a party on a Friday night.” She joked and you laughed before losing sight of her.
After class, you were walking back home when you found yourself strolling past the library. It wasn’t on the way to your place, and somehow you were still here. Curiosity, as always, got the best of you as you made your way inside.
Looking for the corridor where you had met the girl, you were pleased to find the book she had offered you still placed messily on one of the shelves, exactly how you had left it.
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo could be read in the yellow cover. You noticed it was a long story, although, for you, any book with more than 50 pages could be considered long. The sinopsis talked about a disappearance and an investigation.
How did any of this have to do with the color red, Diego or your desire to go as far away from that girl as possible? You leafed through the pages, the excessive amount of words and total lack of images already boring you to death.
The few sentences that caught your eye didn’t give any clue or explanation as to why the girl had offered you this book in particular. Part of your mind urged you to leave now and forget completely about this girl and anything about her, but the other part insisted that you tried to understand her, maybe even find out who she was, just to clear up your doubts. The latter got the best of you as you checked out the book, cradling it under your arm while you walked home, not taking any detours this time.
You still had a couple of hours before heading to Angelina’s house, and after trying to convince Diego, for several minutes, to go to the party, and failing miserably, you found yourself bored.
The movie playing in the background couldn’t seem to catch your attention, despite being one of your favourites. Were you really letting her words get to you? The words of a stranger nonetheless. Although said stranger had been occupying your thoughts for the past day.
That book was haunting you. The idea of actually reading it wasn’t exciting, doing so would mean she won and you weren’t about to let her win so easily. But your mind wandered towards it every two seconds. That yellow pile of paper sitting on your nightstand.
After some internal fighting you turned the TV off and picked it up. A quick glance wouldn’t hurt.
The first thing was the prologue. A Friday in November. You wondered if a prologue was something that was part of the story, seeing it wasn’t chapter 1, but decided to read it anyway.
It happened every year, was almost a ritual.
Sounds creepy, you thought to yourself, but kept going. You read up until it was almost time to leave. Still wondering what a damn prologue was and what it had to do with the story itself.
Begrudgingly you set the book down and packed some stuff, heading out to Angie’s place. You would never admit it, but the story had gotten you hooked.
You parked your car and made your way into the house like you lived there, greeting her mother and sister, who were chatting in the kitchen, before walking towards Angie’s room. Being used to this, it didn’t take long for you both to be ready and leaving.
Your eyes were quick to adjust to the lack of lights, your ears growing accustomed to the loud music.
You weren’t a stranger to this scenario. Neither were you a stranger to these people. A few were friends, a fair bunch were acquaintances. Those who you’ve never met before quickly striked conversation.
This was your natural habitat. A place you knew how to navigate all too well. Your natural talent at charming those around you at full force.
You finally got to meet “Angie’s boy”, Pietro, the one with the silver hair. You had only seen him through pictures up until now. The two of you got along amazingly well, his extroverted nature complimenting yours.
Despite all this, your mind still trailed back to that book, to that girl. The story was some kind of investigative novel, and the main investigator was a journalist. It was weird. It was addictive. And that girl was such a bitch, you couldn’t get her off your head.
Angie was completely wasted by the end of it, as per usual, while you were just a little tipsy. You offered Pietro a ride, and he accepted, helping you take your friend to her house first since she could barely stand.
You two fell into light conversation and you were happy Angie had found a good one. You left him at his place, but not before teasing him relentlessly about your friend, and playing the ‘protective best friend’, throwing around a bunch of warnings and threats.
The weekend was spent with your nose shoved into that book. Taking in the story as if it was oxygen. Diego kept texting you asking to hang out and you did your best to avoid him. Not only did you really want to finish the story, but if he found out you, out of all people, were reading a book… you’d never hear the end of.
Monday rolled around and you had finally finished the book. You had sat a good long minutes reminiscing on the story and, especially, on that intense and nerve racking ending. Now your mind was flooded with yet more questions.
The story had nothing to do with red, or Diego, or being as far away from that girl as possible. Okay, maybe the last one could be understandable, if you squint really hard, but still…
You quickly shoved the volume into your backpack when you spotted Diego approaching.
“Why did you avoid me all weekend?”
“Good morning to you too,” you offered a sheepish smile, “and I wasn’t avoiding you,I texted you saying I was busy,” not a lie entirely.
“Busy doing what? A new girl you met at the party?” He teased.
“I wasn’t doing anyone, why do you have to be so dirty? Although you could use some ‘getting laid’.” You teased back.
“And you say I’m the dirty one.” You let out a loud laugh. “Now really, what were you doing?”
“Studying,” you lied, “I’m falling behind on my grades and the coach will kick my ass if I fail any classes.” That part wasn’t entirely false.
Diego gave you a knowing look, he wasn’t falling for that and you knew he wasn’t, but thankfully he didn’t push.
“Well, we should go to those classes then,” he offered you his arm dramatically, “shall we?”
You rolled your eyes at his antics, but hooked your arm with his and made your way across campus to the first class of the day.
Needless to say your focus wasn’t the best throughout the day. Your thoughts wandering back to that girl. To those questions. To that damn book that didn’t help you figure out the puzzle.
How did you let someone so rude get to you so easily? How did you let her win? And why weren’t you remotely mad about it, just annoyed? Something as simple as a book recommendation was prickling into your skin for days now. Something as unimportant as an annoying stranger was keeping your focus away from really important things.
Such as this moment, you should be paying attention, instead you’re lying on the floor after receiving a football directly in your head. The coach examined you, but stated it wasn’t hard enough to give you a concussion or anything. In spite of that he still urged you to see the in-campus nurse, and so you did.
Diego managed to catch you on your way there.
“Where are you going? Don’t you have practice now?”
“Got hit with a football, coach wants the nurse to check if I don’t have a concussion.” You explained and he seemed to contemplate that information.
He walked in silence for a while, his expression one of someone in deep thought.
“There’s something off with you.” You gave him a puzzled look.
“Like what?”
“I’m not sure,” he paused, carefully choosing his next words, “you just haven’t been… you, y’know?”
“Are you accusing me of being possessed or something?” You joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
He laughed, but didn’t let the topic go that easily.
“That’s not what I mean. For instance, you weren’t as insistent, as you usually are, about me going to that party last friday.”
“Maybe I’m just tired of trying to convince you to do something you don’t want to do.” You retorted.
“You kept avoiding going out with me on the weekend,” he kept going.
“I was studying, I told you.”
This questioning was starting to exhaust you. You hated lying to him, but your pride spoke louder when it came to not admitting that that girl had won this little game she started, or that he was right about books all along.
“And now you got hit during practice? You never get hit during practice, that’s why you’re the captain.”
“Can’t I have one bad day?” You feigned offense.
Thankfully you had reached the nurse’s office, stopping Diego’s questioning for now. Conclusion was you didn’t have a concussion, but you might get headaches for the next couple days, so to be aware of that. You took the piece of paper the woman handed you with the name of the pill she indicated to help with the pain and left, Diego following suit.
“Are you going back to practice?” He asked once he reached you.
“Coach won’t let me even if I want to.”
“Wanna go out for some coffee then?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“You don’t even drink coffee.”
“Yes,” he hooked his arm with yours, pulling you towards the changing room, “but they make the best pastries, and I’ve been craving one for hours.”
You let him drag you back to the field. You quickly changed, not in need of a shower since you didn’t last that long in practice, and met the boy sitting on a bench with - you guessed it - a book in hand.
“C’mon pretty boy, you’ve made me hungry now,” you called as you walked past him.
He quickly got up and followed your lead. The place in question was only a few blocks away, and you both filled the walk with all kinds of conversation, the ones in which you don’t know how you went from a topic to another, it just happens.
Your moment of happiness was cut short when you walked by the library. That library.
Diego stopped abruptly, turning to you with puppy eyes.
“Can we go in, please?”
“So I can be insulted by another stranger? No thank you.” You tried to dismiss him, but he was insistent.
“It’ll only be a second, I just need to renew a few books.” When you gave no sign of going in he turned around. “Fine, wait here.”
You leaned against one of the columns, the action calling your attention to the book still in your backpack. There were a few days till you had to return it, but the weight was annoying and it just sat there as a constant reminder of the fact that you let a complete stranger get into your head.
Since your hopes of getting an explanation had died, you took the book and made your way inside the building.
It felt like a secret mission, you were a spy and you couldn’t get caught by Diego. Thankfully he wasn’t in sight, but someone else was.
You watched the girl sitting on a table, she looked so calm and peaceful. You happily disrupted that peace by dropping the not-so-small book in front of her, startling her, causing her to practically jump off of her seat. You just looked her dead in the eyes, before going after what you wanted.
The amazing @headcanon-send-by-cyberlife created a gorgeous Greaser AU Allen60 moodboard (here) and in exchange they’ve asked for some angsty but soft Hankvin. Failed on the angst side of things but...I hope you still like it!
Stole Moments
It was all hands on deck with the latest case. A suspected serial killer who had taunted the DPD with hints that seemingly reached back into the depths of the cold cases archive. Even with the support of android processing power, there were still too many cases to filter through and they were working against a deadline. The killer had said that the next victim will die in 48 hours. And that was 36 hours ago.
The usual standards were relaxed, most people were looking crumpled and tired. In the breakroom there were boxes of take away and dirty coffee mugs. Some people found it easier to sit in the archives room and work in little groups while others huddled in the meeting room. Gavin himself had settled on the sofa in the break room, next to a steady supply of coffee, his tablet in his hand. Over time, the tablet had been settled on the seat next to him and he slouched over it. Then he was lying down, tablet balanced on its side as he blinked at it.
That was how Hank stumbled into the break room and found him curled on his side, tablet by his head, face slack with sleep. Huffing, Hank turned around and marched out the room, straight to Fowler’s office.
“I know this is a crisis but how long has Gavin been here?” he asked in way of greeting. “Wasn’t he on nights right before this shitshow took off?”
Nodding, Fowler frowned. “Do you know when he had a break last? Kid’s got a knack for running himself ragged.”
Scoffing, Hank muttered an “I’ll say” under his breath before sighing, “There’s 17 hours left before the next kill. Everyone is knackered and flagging. Can we call a couple of hours break? Say, back in 5 hours with a fresh eye and hopefully more rested?”
Agreeing came fairly easily to Fowler and he ushered Hank out of his office, going to groups and sending people off for a much needed break. Meanwhile, Hank returned to the coffee room and watched the soft snuffling breaths Gavin took as he dozed fitfully.
“Come on sleepy,” he nudged Gavin’s shoulder gruffly. The small, sleepy noise Gavin let out was sweet, it made Hank grin.
“Hank?”
“That’s Lieutenant to you, Reed,” he grumbled and watched as Gavin immediately changed. His face hardened a little, mouth set in a grim line.
“Sorry sir. I’ll get back to work.”
“We have a 5 hour mandatory break, Captain’s orders. I don’t want to see you in the building until after that. Understood?”
He watched Gavin nod and peel himself off the sofa. The tablet was put back on his desk and jacket was grabbed instead. Hank wanted to wait a minute before following but a voice stopped him from moving.
“You’re far too harsh on him,” Tina chided and Hank shrugged her hand off his arm. He owed her no explanation and scoffed as he marched out of the precinct.
In the car park, he found Gavin shuffling miserably towards the road.
“Hey, numbnuts!” Hank called after him and threw his car keys at Gavin who fumbled the catch and dropped them. “Get in the back.”
Nodding, Gavin did as told and settled on the back seat as Hank climbed in after him. Once the door shut behind them, Hank wasted no time in putting and arm around Gavin and pulling him against his chest. All tension bled out of them at the contact and Gavin snuggled in a little more.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Hank murmured into his hair. “Am I too hard on you compared to the others?”
Shaking his head, Gavin snuffled a little. “You make me a better cop for it. I know you want to avoid showing any favouritism.”
“Still, I wish I could just be allowed a little give. Just enough to remind us both that I love you very much.”
It was wistful, wishful thinking. They knew from the start of the relationship that work would be a strain. They butted heads and grumbled at each other enough already to make people think they barely tolerated each other. Rarely could they get a day off together and everyone thought they didn’t work joint cases because of a personality clash. At least Fowler had been kind enough to try and help them try and find a way round without having one of them transfer out of the precinct.
Instead, they had stolen moments, short evenings together or, like in the car, a few snatched hours where they could sleep together. Gavin set an alarm on his phone and settled against Hank, drawing his jacket over both of them.
“I love you too,” he murmured back, already half asleep. It wasn’t ideal, but it was what they had and they made the best of it.
Chloe flung her arms in front of her and to her side, sliding everything off of Max’s desk at her home in Seattle and sending the items clattering and bouncing across the floor. She used this momentum to spin herself around, her blue eyes locking onto Max’s tiny face and threatening to blaze holes through her skull. Above the dark bags that sunk into her cheekbones like melted wax and the slightly-ajar mouth that was dropped in shock, Chloe’s expression was a wide-open book.
“Look around, Max!” she yelled, her arms moving to each side of her body as she gestured to the clean, manicured space of Max’s room. Even with the polaroids everywhere, and the fairy-lights, it was some definition of Hell in Chloe’s mind. “What more could I fucking deserve?!” she continued, “The world fucking exploded around us, and people fucking died, and somehow I fucking deserve more?!”
@nectaric sent a meme: “ i know you’re mad at me right now, but i’m the one who’s here. let me be here. let me help. you can be angry later. ” - hades to minthe..
"I do not need your help!"
The rebuttal is sharp, screeched from a throat that is raw from too much weeping as she glares at him with wild, red-rimmed eyes that still leak salty tears. Usually neat and demure, she looks half feral where she is now; dress torn, feet raw and oozing ichor into the earth, hair a tangled mess. There is so much more than anger churning within her, making her sick with the tumultuous roiling of emotion, but anger does rear it's head now in the presence of Hades, though it is of a defensive kind.
She does not know how long she has spent roaming in her grief - only that she reminded the world that she is the daughter of wailing as she filled remote wildernesses with her cries. No care was given to where she walked, passing through thickets and bramble patches until even her divine body gave out and collapsed where she sits now, only to be confronted by the very source of her pain. She cannot muster the strength to stand and flee, so she lashes out with words instead, hunched like a wounded animal poised to bite.
"What I need from you is something you can no longer give, so leave me! Go– Go back to her. You have made it clear where your affections lie, and they are not with me. Do not pretend to care. Go."
He’d thought he’d gotten away clean, that the other scions wouldn’t notice when he slipped away while they celebrated with G’raha over their latest successful venture. G’raha was fitting in neatly with everyone, as if there’d always been a space just waiting for him to fill it and of course, it filled Maru with joy seeing everyone so light and carefree after their jaunt to the First.
There was no rest for the Warrior though and he’d been preparing the leave for the Bozjan front while the others ate and drank and talked of their recent adventures with G’raha settling in.
The voice had sounded from behind him as Maru had packed his meagre belongings including some food for the journey, and set his lance in its sling across his back.
He startled a little, having not expected anyone to notice him His ears flattened into pale hair before he continued to finish his preparations, closing the pack when he was done and only then turning to the Hyur leaning just inside the doorway.
“You sound as though you’ll actually miss me, Thancred,” Maru replied in a tease as if it wouldn’t just be his lance whose absence would be felt.
He didn’t answer the question, didn’t seem as though he intended to let his companion reply to his comment either as he approached the door and made to move past Thancred to be on his way.
“Tell the others I’m sorry I left without saying anything, please?”
