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norarigby · 3 years ago

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フェア関西のルームメイト二名 (The Two Roommates from Fair Kansai)

Chapter 2: The Typo

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Description: In which while typing a roommate ad online, the famed Miya Atsumu, (23) MSBY Jackals Setter, makes a detrimental typo that leads to an influx of women applicants. Confused, but not completely opposed (the idiot), Miya Atsumu lands on a formidable candidate. Y/n L/n. A Biotechnology major at Kansai University, looking for a change after her last disastrous roommates and some space from a particular complication. It’s odd, but it’ll work. Maybe a little too well.

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: ~1.4k

A/n: Cross posted from my AO3. I update there first, so if you want the chapters sooner, check it out!

To say Atsumu was overwhelmed would be an understatement. When one of the athletic directors approached him saying how his phone kept going off in the locker room, he was concerned something was seriously wrong. As a precaution, they assure him that if it was an emergency that he should feel free to take the day. But upon closer inspection, he quickly realized that wouldn’t be necessary. He scrolled through what seemed like pages of messages and missed calls about the ad. And not just any inquiries, but…

“ALL WOMEN!” Atsumu exclaimed loudly in the busy shop. A few annoyed heads turned to the source of the outburst.

Osamu rolled his eyes, “‘Tsumu, we talked about this. Having you come during busy hours is already enough of a nuisance, but could you keep it down? This is still a public place.”

“But ‘Samu! What am I going to do?” Atsumu whisper-shouted like it would help his outburst, but it still elicited a few head turns, “I already didn’t want to room with a stranger! And now all of the applicants are girls? This has to be some sort of joke.”

Osamu helped with the line and handed out a few orders to customers before focusing some energy on his dramatic brother. “Well, did you specify that you were only looking for male roommate?”

Atsumu picked at the stray rice grains on his plate as he tried to remember what he wrote. He couldn’t remember specifying anything about the roommate themselves; focusing mainly on the apartment itself. He voiced his thoughts to his brother.

“Hmm, well Atsumu can be a girl's name. Maybe that’s why?”

He tried not to be offended at his brother’s comment, mainly because he was partially right. It’s possible that they’re assuming he’s a girl. But that doesn’t make entire sense either. Is it possible his fan club found the posting? That seemed pretty possible. Atsumu knew fangirls could get crazy when they wanted to be.

Osamu finished some things behind the bar and went over to sit by Atsumu. The two contemplated his conundrum over a fresh plate of onigiri. After Osamu’s second, he spoke up, “Just for science, can I see your ad?”

Atsumu gave him an incredulous look, but pulled up the ad anyway, “I mean, sure, but I don’t think-”

At Atsumu’s sudden silence, Osamu’s curiosity was piqued, “”Tsumu? Everything okay?”

Wordlessly he handed the phone over and Osamu read through the ad. Immediately after reading, he burst into laughter.

“‘Samu! This isn’t funny!”

But Osamu was laughing so hard he couldn’t even speak. Some of his employees turned out of concern and curiosity at their boss’ sudden burst. Eventually, he calmed down enough to choke out a “you are in some trouble, ‘Tsumu”.

Roommate Wanted.

Master Bedroom available with a private bath in a 100 sq m apartment in Osaka. In-unit wash, AC, dishwasher, internet, etc. Fully furnished (besides bedroom available). Rent with utilities is 62784¥. Near public transportation. Feel free to contact with questions or offers.

06-XXXX-XXXX

Text/Call

Miya Atsumi

“Alright, that wraps it up for today. Finish the calculations on your own time and be sure to bring back your completed form by next class. See you Tuesday!”

The sound of chairs scraping against the floor harmonized with the zipping and unzipping of backpacks as the classroom got up to leave. Y/n pulled out her phone to finally check her messages.

From: Mom

Found a listing in Osaka that looks interesting. Good apartment with really good pricing. You should give them a call.

(link)

Y/n typed a quick thank you before clicking on the link. Her mom was right. It looked like a decent location and a not too bad price. Trying to look for any information on the roommate (roommates?), all she could see was a number and a name at the bottom of the ad. What a strange listing. It was probably the shortest listing she’d ever come across--and definitely the most to the point.

Y/n sat and stared at the listing for a little bit while weighing her options. She just got out of an interesting situation in Suita, but she was now living with her parents. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but both her and her parents weren’t exactly jumping at the idea of her moving back in, especially with her graduating college next year.

Making up her mind, she copied the number and sent a quick text to the number on the ad. A silent prayer was sent to whoever was listening. This wouldn’t fix all of her problems, but this would solve a big one and she swore she would be able to handle the rest.

“And you told me I was loud,” Now Atsumu was getting antsy about the amount of people staring at his hysteric brother. “”Samu, you need to calm down.”

This had been going on for at least ten minutes now. Osamu would read through the ad, get sent into a fit of laughter, finally calm down, but then would read it again and the cycle would start all over again. Not used to being the responsible twin, in addition to being extremely embarrassed by his brother’s reaction to his typo, Atsumu was at a loss for what to do. He tried sending reassuring smiles to patrons and mumbled some apologies, but that was the extent of his capabilities.

Finally, Osamu calmed down and pushed Atsumu’s phone back to him. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Osamu tried to console his brother, “Hey, maybe this won’t be such a bad thing. Surely, there’s at least one of those girls that you could at least be civil with.”

Atsumu scrolled through his messages again, exacerbated, “Even if that’s true! There’s too many! I don’t really have the time to sit and go through all of these.”

There were at least 100 people who had responded to his ad and where the messages definitely weren’t flooding in as much as they had earlier that day, he would get a notification about once every 15-20 minutes. By the time he got through the original applicants, there would be another 100-200 to take their place. In between practice and conditioning, there was no way Atsumu was going to be able to get through these all by himself.

“Tell you what,” Osamu leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, “Since this was partially my idea, I’ll help you tonight after I close up. And if we can’t find anyone, I’ll help you write up a better listing and we can delete this one.”

Atsumu’s other issue with all of these applicants is that he really didn’t want to spend energy looking through dozens of descriptions and deciding if he would like them or not. He assumed it would be like the dating app he had for a couple weeks, but worse. Atsumu really didn’t like the idea of judging someone based on a single paragraph they wrote about themselves. He preferred a more personal approach. Like with the various spikers and teammates he’d played with over the years, he was really good at reading people in person. Within a short conversation, he could pretty accurately lay out a person’s personality (what things they might like, what might make them tick, what things they were indifferent to). Over the internet it was much more difficult.

He guessed he could always ask them to meet in person, right? That was something people did. They could meet at his brother’s restaurant so then Osamu could get a feel for the other person. Atsumu figured it would also get one glaring issue out of the way: he was a guy.

It was a fool proof plan. Osamu and him would sort through the applicants tonight and he would invite them to meet him in person. This way he can see if it’s going to work or not and if they aren’t comfortable with rooming with a guy they can just leave. Genius!

Atsumu recounted his plan to his brother and Osamu was in agreement. With that, the blonde brother left to go to afternoon conditioning, planning on returning just before close to sneak in a few more onigiri from his brother before the long haul.

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cryptidchronicles · 3 years ago

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Rest in Peace Scott Mardis, Champ Researcher

I was shocked and deeply saddened today by the tragic news of my friend Scott's death. According to his brother, Scott passed away late Wednesday night in a hospital in Bradenton, FL. after amputation of a severe infection in his leg.

He had made it through surgery okay but while still at the hospital on 7/28, Scott had become unresponsive and died of complications from the infection.

Scott Mardis had been my friend and colleague for years after we crossed paths in cryptozoological research related to water creatures, specifically with respect to lake monsters.

At Scott's encouragement over the years and through his generous mentorship, I was able to navigate through a balanced approach to anomalous lake creature investigations for my blog posts and personal research.

Scott was one of the most authentic and passionate cryptozoologists I have ever known who was absolutely devoted to his lake monster investigations more than any other researcher I know of and specifically to his endeared Champ, America’s Loch Ness Monster, who he believed lives in Lake Champlain. Even with his healthy dose of skepticism and perhaps even a measure of cynicism, he was still one of the most devoted advocates for the famous 1977 Sandra Mansi Photograph of “Champ”. Scott himself believed he saw "something" in Lake Champlain so many years ago that kicked off his lifelong research to prove to others that Champ and other lake monsters exist.

I feel like I can't come close to writing a good enough tribute to Scott but I wanted to share what I can muster up at this time so that he can be celebrated for all his contributions to a field of study that means so much to me. Every year he would quest to the lake with equipment and enthusiasm in search of Champ using updated scientific methods, tools and techniques and his vast and ever-expanding encyclopedic knowledge of the historical lake geography and Champ phenomenon in hopes of helping others become true believers like himself. His enthusiasm was absolutely transferable.

I will always be extremely grateful for the many late night conversations with Scott about water monster lore and latest science news that continued to open paths to solving the mysteries we chased. While he and I didn't always agree on everything, we had deep, friendly and enjoyable discussions about the great marine and lake creature mysteries of the world and his determination to find answers was beyond measure and he without a doubt illuminated my faith that one day we will have the remarkable evidence that proves what he dedicated his life to finding out; that there are surviving monsters of ancient times in our waters.

Scott was very respectful and thoughtful and always made time for me and answered every single question I ever had (and trust me there were so many) with respect to this field of study and would help me get my head around the science and theories I was often struggling with on my own. He was an excellent mentor and had really good theories, making excellent points about the series of anomalous, fragmentary plesiosaur (and other) fossils from past supposed extinction times of plesiosaurs at the K/Pgboundary, roughly 65 million years ago. While these anomalous fossils have generally been dismissed by the paleontology community, Scott had a solid understanding of the importance of fossil anamolies beyond plesiosaurs or basilosaurine whales and how studying them further could provide more answers and truths regaurding his beloved Champ and other water monster cryptids. Scott had done so much pioneering research that we simply cannot afford to lose. I had been in the middle of reformatting his book Night of the Living Dead Plesiosaurs and am so saddened that I did not get to finish the editing and formatting of it more quickly so he could see it reworked but I do pledge to honour his memory by finishing it and getting it to the right people so that many others can enjoy his collected research which offers so much insight and venerate him for the incredible teachings and knowledge he passed on to others. To see things from Scott's perspective was absolutely illuminating.

Though he was always ready to discuss my laughable obsession with a giant plesio-turtle, we always had something to talk about with our many common interests outside of lake monsters. Scott always had obscure book recs for me which I really appreciated and I have a whole bunch that I vow to get through sooner rather than later.

He was a good cat dad who adored his cats and was fascinated by their antics and we would talk about cat stuff and thangs whenever possible. I was always so honoured when Scott would come to me to pick my brain about cats, in the way I would go to him to pick his brain about water monsters. He was very supportive of my work with rescuing and caring for special needs cats. I hope that his own rescued cats will be well-cared for by his family because they did mean so much to him as well. We would chat about The Walking Dead and so many other similiar interests like classic rock and terrible horror movies. Scott was awesome and I am so sad that I didn't get to spend more time with him and meet him on the water like we had planned.

Dear Scott, thank you for your kindness, your contributions and your guidance and though you will be greatly missed, I hope wherever you are that you have the answers you were so dedicated to finding out. It was a true honour to know you. Goodbye, my friend. Rest in Peace Scott Mardis December 28, 1963-July 28, 2021 My condolences to his wife and family for their loss. He will be missed by so many.

#champ researcher #lake champlain #lake monsters #scott mardis

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flannels-and-fannypacks · 4 years ago

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Will They Won’t They | Part 2/4 [Reggie Peters]

Pairing: Reggie Peters x fem!reader

Words: 7.5k

Summary: Reggie and reader were the best of friends up until middle school where they drifted apart and decided never to speak to each other again. What happens when a shared algebra class and a resulting detention force them to spend and increasing amount of time together. Will it be enough to overcome the mutual hate? Or was the relationship doomed from the start.

WARNINGS: swears & ANGST

A/N: hey babes it’s drea posting :) i hope you enjoy this part as much as mimi and i did writing it! again, if you enjoy our writing, please like, comment, and reblog! and if you want to be updated, dm us to join our taglist! sending my love - drea :)

“Come on, let me take you out! We need to get you a new outfit for the gig coming up,” Rose insisted, dragging you to her car.

“Who said I was coming?” you frowned stubbornly, tugging your arms back but to no avail.

“I did, now let's go,” she strongly urged, pushing you into the backseat while she hopped in the passenger side and Luke hopped in the driver’s seat.

“Rose, he’s coming too! Oh, hell no!” you refused, giving the boy a pointed look.

“Sorry (N/N), I can’t drive this car, it doesn’t have learner’s insurance,” Rose apologized.

“Nice to see you Lady Bunny,” Luke grinned with a wink and you sighed.

“Okay, let’s just get this over with, okay?” you prompted and Luke nodded turning the keys in the ignition.

“Whatever you say bunny, you’re the boss.”

“Would you stop calling me that Patterson, it’s worse than when Reggie calls me Cookie,” you grumbled, your nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Oh lighten up, at least you’ve got some cute nicknames,” Rose chuckled and reached a hand back to hold yours. “We’re gonna have a blast (N/N), just trust me.”

Walking past countless amounts of stores, it seemed as though Rose’s plan to find you something nice to wear was pointless. You and Rose had very different ideas of fashion, ideas that clashed far too much for Rose’s liking.

“There’s no way I’m wearing that!” you exclaimed, eyeing the brightly colored jacket in Rose’s hand.

“It’s so pretty though!” she insisted. “The texture, the color, the price? It’s a bargain, (N/N)!”

You rolled your eyes. “Then you buy it for yourself,” you told her, pulling out a simple knit sweater from the rack.

“You know what, I will,” Rose settled before looking at the sweater in your hand. “Oh you can’t wear that! You’ll look like a grandma who got lost at a rock concert!”

You frowned at your friend, holding the sweater to your chest. “I always wear things like this,” you pointed out, slightly hurt.

Rose tugged the sweater out of your hand and shoved it back into the rack. Luke popped his head up from the other side of the rack. “Yeah, but at a rock gig, you can’t go as your typical self. A poor little bunny like you would never survive a place like that,” he explained with a pout.

“Lord, have mercy,” you grabbed your necklace pendant and kissed it, frowning when you realized you weren’t wearing your normal silver cross.

“Is that like some white person good luck thing you picked up?” she asked suspiciously and you chuckled.

“No, I just thought I was wearing a different necklace. I don't know how I could have mistaken it.”

“What is it?” Rose inquired further, taking the pendant from your hands and looking at the details. “A horseshoe? I didn’t take you for a horse girl.”

“Yeah- no, I’m not… Reggie gave it to me in middle school, he won it at a county fair or something, I can’t remember,” you explained.

“Reggie gave it to you?” Luke inquired.

“Thought I said that already Patterson,” you shot back with a roll of your eyes.

Luke fought the urge to say something sarcastic back to you. “No, I’m just- Reggie?” he repeated. “I thought he...hates you, and vice versa.”

You walked down the aisle, skimming through the various articles of clothing. “And you’d be correct,” you told him.

“It was before you moved here,” Rose explained. “She and Reggie used to be best friends up until middle school,”

“Yep, but that’s in the past and we’re in the present so let’s focus on that,” you rushed, already feeling uncomfortable about the topic.

“No let's not,” Luke rested his forearms on the rack in front of you, resting his chin on top of them. “Tell us more,” he pleaded, pouting like a child.

You glared at the boy, tossing a sequined shirt at his face, making him stagger back. “And why should I, it’s none of your business, no offense Rose, and I’ll probably tell you at some point anyway,”

“None taken cariña,” she chuckled and continued looking for some clothing that would be appropriate for the gig.

Luke sighed, following close behind you. “But why can’t you tell me now?” he whined like a child. “I adopted you-”

“Against my will,” you cut in, flicking his forehead.

“Details,” he insisted. “I’m just saying, shouldn’t we be close now? Don’t you trust me?”

You took a deep breath. “Of course I do, Luke,” you reassured him, your patience thinning.

“Then why not tell me?” he pressed.

“Because it hurts!” you finally broke.

The two friends seemed to freeze at your sudden exclamation. The quiet small girl was cracking and revealing the broken china doll inside.

“It hurts, okay?” you repeated. “And having to tell the story of how I lost my best friend for some stupid reason that I don’t even know...it hurts beyond belief. The worst part is that he probably doesn’t even care. I loved him, okay? I loved him because he was my best friend. Even when I had no one I had Reggie and I used to think that nothing in the world could ever tear us apart.” you admitted. “When we stopped talking, he took a piece of me with him. And I know that I am never going to get that back.”

Luke quietly moved over and past the racks of clothing pulling you into his chest and giving you a tight squeeze.

“Bunny I’m so sorry. I had no idea,”

You let out a humorless laugh. “No one knew,” you told him. “It’s not your fault, Luke, you were just curious.”

“Still,” Luke said. “I feel so bad. Maybe I could try and talk to him and-”

You shook your head repeatedly. “Maybe let’s not,” you countered. “It’s in the past now. There’s nothing I can really do about it and the last thing I want to do is rope my friends into this, too.”

“Well then how about this,” Rose suggested, giving you a prompt to change the topic while holding up a long sleeved white turtleneck along with an oversized black shirt sporting the album art of a famous rock band.

“I actually think I might be able to tolerate that,” you let out a soft chuckle.

“I’m hoping you have some ripped jeans at home, maybe some converse?”

“Yeah don’t worry, I’m not entirely hopeless,” you assured them and Rose laughed while Luke just pulled you in tighter for a brotherly hug.

“Look at you being mature! We love you, bunny,” he told you, swaying as he held you tight in his arms.

“Love you, too, I guess, Patterson,” you laughed. “Let me go, you’re crushing me!”

The second Luke pulled away, he leaned back in to ruffle your hair. “Now come on, Bunny, the gig starts in three hours. You all down for lunch?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you nodded. “Why not?” you replied.

Rose wrapped an arm around the both of you. “Anything but hotdogs,” she giggled.

“Agreed!” you quickly vetoed any other option and ran giggling with Rose to grab lunch leaving Luke to pay for the clothes. You were lucky he adopted you otherwise that would be a tricky one to get out of.

—

“I feel like this is an illegal number of questions to have on a test, it’s literally taking so long to mark these,” you grumbled to yourself, scribbling notes with red ink on the margins of the freshman biology test.

You had lost count of how many detentions had passed and lost track of how many were still to come, at this rate they could go on until the end of the year and in all honesty you probably wouldn’t notice.

You looked over at Reggie who was marking some short answer questions on a test, seeing his bright red check mark where there clearly shouldn’t have been one.

“That’s wrong”, you said, looking back down at your paper.

“What do you mean?”

“That. You marked it right, it’s wrong,”

“Why?” he asked curiously, putting his pen down so he could listen to you.

“Because,” you sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “the mitochondria is not the party house of the cell,”

“Well I say the mitochondria can do whatever it wants,” Reggie proclaimed, adding another check mark to the test. “Because it’s the boss,”

“No that’s the nucleus,”

“The what?” he formed and you banged your head on the desk in front of you,

“How in the world did you pass freshman science,”

“Like the rest of us, I cheated,” he countered and you looked at him with a shocked expression on your face. “Oh my God, lighten up Cookie, I was kidding, it’s been four years and I’ve barely taken any science classes since I just forgot,” he rolled his eyes.

You moved your head back to your work, only to toss the pen down in frustration moments later to try and massage a hand cramp.

“Stupid pen, stupid tests, stupid detention,” you grumbled under your breath, honestly feeling like you wanted to cry.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sat back in your seat, debating whether you should fake an emergency so you could just go home.

Reggie silently reached over to your pile of tests and eyeballed splitting it in half, taking the unmarked tests and placing them in his own pile.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said flatly.

“Sooner we finish the sooner we can go home and it didn’t seem like you were going to go any faster,”

You stayed silent for a moment, carefully reaching for your own again before whispering, “Thanks,” to which Reggie only gave you a nod.

The silence between you both was excruciating. It shouldn’t have been this way, it should have been easy to talk to him like it always used to be.

So, you took a deep breath and unclenches your jaw, casually continuing to write while asking,

“So how’s the band?”

There was a short silence, probably due to his slight shock in you even asking or trying to have a civil conversation and his first instinct as usual was to block it.

“Why do you care?”

You rolled your eyes and continued to do your work, at least you tried that was all you could do. The ball was in his court.

When he looked up and saw your tired expression he realized there really didn’t seem to be an ulterior motive at this point so with an audible sigh he answered,

“It’s great, we’re working on writing songs for our demo CD,”

You nodded and checked off some multiple choice questions before you heard Reggie clear his throat and spoke again,

“How about you? How’s the family?”

“They’re alright,” you said, your lips pressed in a thin line. “I mean as good as they can be. Things haven’t changed much.”

Reggie nodded in understanding, aware of your family’s financial situation.

“Is that why you push yourself?” he asked again. You froze, your hand holding the grading pen not moving. “Hours in the library, studying until your brain practically explodes with information.” You raised an eyebrow curiously at him, making him blush sheepishly. “I just know from uh, Mr. Mallard. He likes to talk, you and I both know that.” With a small smile on your face, you nodded.

“I guess you’re right,” you finally answered. “If I get a scholarship maybe I can at least make my way through a degree without plummeting further into debt.” You kicked aimlessly at the floor. “I just feel so guilty. Like...if I don’t do the right thing or make one stupid mistake I’ll disappoint my parents.”

Reggie frowned, setting the testing papers down. “You know you’d never disappoint your parents, Cookie” he told you. Chills went down your spine upon realizing he didn’t have the usual malice and sarcasm behind his name for you. “They would never be upset with you.”

You laugh humorlessly. “Right again, Flicka,” you sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe the better term would be I would be disappointed in myself? I don’t want to fail them or anything by slacking off. They’ve already done so much for me.”

“But that shouldn’t stop you from just-” Reggie drummed his pen against his thigh as he thought of the right words to use. “living? Cookie, we’re still kids. The point of high school is to just let loose and have fun, not drown yourself in schoolwork and scholarship essays.”

You playfully flicked a paper clip in his direction. “I bet you’d know all about letting loose, wouldn’t you?” you teased.

Reggie grasped his chest, gasping in feign hurt. “You wound me, Cookie,” he dramatically exclaimed, making you giggle and roll your eyes.

As the two of you continued your light banter, you were reminded of the days you and Reggie would spend at the park, competing to see who could swing the highest between the two of you. The weight on your back lifted slightly as you started to sense a bit of normalcy, no longer at each other’s throats for any reason you could find. It felt good to talk like this with Reggie, to “let loose” as he said and finally set down all the baggage you’ve been carrying since you two stopped being best friends. Everything in that moment felt right. Stress, detention, and ungraded biology tests long forgotten.

After what seemed like hours passed, Mr. Siezlio came back to the classroom, announcing that you were done for the day. You and Reggie surprisingly continued your conversation outside of the classroom, Reggie sharing more stories of the band as you giggled with every shenanigan. However, the moment you stepped foot outside, Reggie’s composure changed.

“Alex!” you exclaimed, running over to the boy. Alex had his arms outstretched, pulling you into a friendly hug that Reggie considered far too chummy. He narrowed his eyes at his best friend, watching and making sure his hands were where he could see them.

Reggie walked over to the two, a scowl forming on his face. “Alex, what are you doing here?” he asked, bitterness visibly clear in his tone.

The blond drummer raised an eyebrow in confusion at Reggie’s attitude, but decided not to address it. “(Y/N) and I have an AP chemistry project coming up so she’s going to sleep over at my place so we can work on it.”

You grinned up at Alex. “We’re probably going to have to pull an all-nighter to get it all done tonight,” you told him, making him groan.

Reggie’s lips fell to a thin line. “Good luck trying to do that,” he muttered. “Alex falls asleep before eleven o’clock. I’d pay to see him stay up past that.”

Alex rolled his eyes playfully. “When my grade is on the line, I think I can manage,” he said. “Especially after that one experiment in class you left me to do, I think we both definitely need that A.”

“Yeah, Alex can’t do titrations for shit,”

“I tried my best,” Alex fought back.

“And what did that get us?” you pressed.

Alex’s head hung low. “Erm, a B,” he muttered.

Reggie stared at the two in disbelief. He couldn’t comprehend this ‘nerd talk.’ “A B?!” he exclaimed. “You were disappointed with a B? I would have been happy with C-,” he shook his head and pulled his bag up higher on his shoulder, preparing himself to part ways.

You shuddered at the thought of such a low grade. “I’d never even begin to imagine a C,” you said aloud.

Reggie smirked at you. “Well, you are a nerd, Cookie,” he teased, making you shove him.

“Ass,” you shot back.

“(N/N), we gotta go if we don’t wanna stay up all night,” Alex said anxiously.

You nodded, taking Alex’s hand in yours and squeezing it. Reggie glared down at your intertwined hands, anger bubbling rapidly in his chest.

“Bye, Flicka,�� you cheerfully waved goodbye.

Reggie didn’t look you in the eye, only staring down at the sidewalk with his hands shoved in his pocket. “Whatever, Cookie.”

—

Band practice the next afternoon -to say the least- was probably the shittiest the band had ever played. Luke and Bobby were incredibly confused why Alex continuously dropped his drumsticks and refused to make eye contact with anyone and why Reggie looked so angry that he could snap the strings of his bass.

“Okay, guys, guys! Come on we have a gig in like a week! We can’t go out there playing like this!” Luke insisted and Bobby nodded in agreement. “Alex I haven’t seen you fumble this much since we tried to play football and Reggie you currently have negative three hundred and forty-five dollars and seventy-three cents in your bank account so I would recommend loosening up on the strings because none of us can afford more.”

“Yeah, what the hell is going on with you two?” Bobby added and Reggie sent a cold glare towards Alex that didn’t go unnoticed by anyone.

“What was that?” Luke asked, pointing in between the two boys.

“What was what?” Reggie asked, his head snapping back to send the same glare to Luke.

“Okay you two clearly have things you need to settle so get it out there,” Bobby nodded, motioning to the floor, metaphorically saying it was open for one of them to take.

Alex took a deep breath and nervously started, “Well I think it’s pretty clear Reggie is mad at me it’s just I have no idea as to why,” he shrugged his shoulders. “D-Did I eat your sandwich or something? A meatball sub maybe?”

“That’s not it, but did you? Because if you did you are dead to me,” Reggie said venomously.

“No! No, I didn’t,” he insisted quickly, very much so wanting to stay alive and not murdered at the hands of his best friend. “But what the hell is making you mad Reggie, I’ve never seen you like this,”

Luke and Bobby seemed to nod carefully in agreement and Reggie swung his bass around the strap so it was hanging from his back.

“You need to stay away from (Y/N),” Reggie said in a cautionary tone, pointing directly at Alex.

“Lady bunny?” Luke asked curiously with furrowed brows and Reggie just looked at him back with confusion before remembering the nickname.

“Yeah, I guess, but seriously Alex, you shouldn’t be with her,”

“What do you mean I shouldn’t be with her. (Y/N) and I are just friends! We’ve been lab partners since freshman year,” Alex insisted. “And in case you forgot I’m kind of really gay?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t be spending time with her!” Reggie exclaimed furiously. Was he mad that you were spending time with his friends or that you seemed to be getting just as close with them as he once was with you. Right now, that was all a muddled mess in Reggie’s mind and heart so naturally, he started spewing out words that probably didn’t even have meaning at that point.

Bobby discreetly made his way to Luke. “Hey Luke,” he whispered. “I can go ask Rose to make some popcorn,” he shrugged.

“Oh yeah, for sure, and tell her to come in, she’ll wanna see this,” Luke added, equally invested, as their two other bandmates seemed to really be going at it.

“Reggie, you need to calm down. (Y/N)’s my friend, too. I don’t know any of your past, but you can’t tell me I should just drop her completely,” Alex said in a level toned voice.

“Oh don’t act like you know (Y/N) better than I do,” Reggie snapped. “I know her like the back of my hand, and I know she’s bad news.”

“Do you really even know her?” Alex pressed.

“Of course I do! Who was there when she broke her ankle? Me. Who was there when her fish died? Me! And who was there when everyone else wasn’t?”

“Not you anymore,” Alex cut in softly. Reggie's rant stopped short. The teen stopped pacing to look his friend in the eyes. “Reggie, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you have to admit to yourself, you still care about her.”

Reggie fumed silently. “I don't know what you’re talking about.”

Alex pressed his lips together. “I think you do, Reggie.”

“Alex you don’t get it! (Y/N) and me, that’s over!” his anger had sent him over the top. “Stop trying to say something’s there! It’s not!”

“Listen to yourself Reggie, just listen to yourself talk! If you heard what I’m hearing I think you’d have a different opinion,”

“Just-Just!...” Reggie pursed his lips and grabbed the neck of his bass pulling it back in front of him. “Can we just take it from the top,”

“Y’know Reggie I think Alex has a point,” Luke butted in, remembering his previous conversation with you, realizing how much losing Reggie had actually affected you.

“Oh joy,” Reggie sighed.

“Just hear me out,” Luke continued, regardless of Reggie’s reluctance. “Why did you get into music in the first place?”

“Because I loved it,” Reggie scoffed as if it was obvious.

“No really Reg, be honest,” Bobby added. “Specifically when did you start playing music more seriously?”

Reggie bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood, tasting the metallic liquid in his mouth he shrugged his shoulders and flopped onto the couch.

“I got into it after I stopped talking to (Y/N),” he admitted. “But what’s your point?” he asked.

“You don't confront your problems Reggie,” Alex explained. “You came to music because it helped you block out the fact that losing her tore you apart.”

“Well if it tore me apart then why am I still here, huh? Why am I happy? Why am I even alive? If she was my everything then how the hell am I still here?!”

“Because she’s keeping you here,” Luke whispered. Reggie turned to Luke, at a loss for words. “Because even though you two had a falling out, you know that seeing her everyday at school...you’re glad she’s okay.”

Reggie ran his fingers through his hair. “You don’t know me,” he snapped back. “You don’t know what I think, or who I-I care about. You just don’t, so you can’t stop playing “mom,” Luke.”

Luke slowly approached him. “I don’t understand you,” he said truthfully. “You never open up or tell us anything. You say we don’t know you, you won’t even tell us anything. If no one knows you, then who does-“

“(Y/N)!” Reggie finally broke. The boys froze in their spots, only staring back at their struggling friend. “(Y/N), okay? She’s the only one who listened to me, the only one who cared. And now she’s gone because I pushed her away. All because I was so stupid and my pride got in the way. It’s my fault the best thing in my life is gone.”

Reggie realized what he had said and quickly pushed himself up and away from the couch.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he shook his head and tried to make his way out of the studio.

“Reggie wait!” his friends called back for him, but he shook his head and pushed his way out of the door just as Rose was heading into the studio. “Reggie come on! We’re sorry!”

Biting the inside of his cheek he cursed under his breath, knowing that they were right. He did push people away before they got too close and right now he didn’t have the strength to blame himself so he blamed you instead.

—

Reggie stormed into the almost empty library on Saturday, having had to walk to his detention from his home by the beach which was not close to say the least.

When he pushed on the door to come into the library with such force it startled you as you organized the books and put them back on the shelves.

Reggie didn’t speak to you as he tossed his things to the side and grabbed a cart, going to his designated spot in the library.

You were careful to not try and push any buttons, knowing he was in a fragile state, it was kind of obvious, but it was even harder not to address.

“Hey Flicka?” you said gently, trying to be as compassionate as possible.

“What,” he spat, shoving some books onto the shelf without much care.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, expecting to be met with barriers, that seemed to be all that comprised your relationship now. Walls, fences, barriers, and barricades.

“None of your business,” he said, his breathing slightly heavier as the tears burned in the back of his eyes and the lump grew in the back of his throat.

“I-I mean are you sure, you seem really agitated,” you noted and he didn’t respond. “Reggie you don’t have to hide anything. It can be my business if you want it to-”

“No it can’t!” he snapped, throwing the books that were in his hands on the table. You flinched at the loud noise the impact made. “It stopped being your business the second we stopped talking to each other so just leave it Cookie,” his voice carrying the same hostility it did weeks ago.

You paused for a moment, looking down at your pile of books before whispering,

“They’re fighting again… aren’t they?”

Reggie’s throat was burning, he wanted to scream into a void, empty himself of the pain because you were right, you were always right. Even when it felt like you didn’t know each other you were always there proving him wrong.

His hands started to shake and he dropped the books he had just picked up again, turning around so you couldn’t see him. Reggie didn’t know if it was because he was embarrassed or if he just didn’t want you to worry.

You wanted to reach over to your old friend, offer him some sort of comfort because you knew Reggie’s family and you knew how hard it was on him.

So you did the next best thing. Pulling out your MP3 player from your pocket you went over to Mr. Mallard’s speaker system and plugged it in, turning up the volume to the max, letting the soft plucking of guitar strings fill the library and the hallway surrounding you.

You went back to your pile and turned your back to him, giving him some sort of privacy, what you thought he needed.

Reggie wasn’t sure if there was another time in his life where he had listened to this song and related to it more.

So when he wiped his nose on his sleeve and turned around and saw you, he realized he didn’t want to be far away from you, he didn’t want to yell at you, he didn’t want that distance.

So he quickly pushed the chair and table with wheels out of his way before stopping right behind you, carefully reaching for your hand that was resting by your side.

When you felt his long slim fingers wrap around your own you turned around to look him in the eyes. They were still the same beautiful shade of blue and green, but unlike the last time you really looked into those eyes, they carried so much hurt. So much hurt and sadness that should never have been there in the first place.

But through it all they said I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling at you, I’m sorry for all of this.

And you nodded, back, accepting that apology.

So he didn’t hesitate a moment, wrapping his arms tightly around you and burying his face in your shoulder. You nearly gasped in surprise as his grip around you tightened. It was as though he was afraid of losing you, and didn’t want to let you go. Lucky for him, you felt the same.

Slowly, your hands found their way around his neck. You could feel Reggie’s tears dampen your shirt, but you couldn’t care less.

“It’s going to be okay, Reggie,” you whispered.

Reggie sniffled quietly, shaking his head. “Don’t say that,” he murmured.

“Say what?” you asked.

“Say that everything’s going to be okay,” he continued in a hushed but angry voice. “Say that everything is all sunshine and rainbows when at the end of the day my parents will still fucking hate each other while yours struggle to keep their home.”

You stiffened under his touch. His words struck a nerve in you, but you pushed down the anger in you. He was hurting, and what he needed was a friend, not a fixer.

Instead, you squeezed him tight against you. “Then, don’t think,” you said. “Clear your mind and- and forget everything. Forget your parents, forget this stupid detention and the musty smell of these ancient books, forget me.”

Reggie dug his head deeper into your chest. “I don’t want to forget you, Cookie,” he murmured. “I-I don’t want you to leave me again a-and-“

You shushed him. “I’m not leaving, Flicka,” you reassured him. “I promise.”

Reggie let out another broken sob. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I-it’s just that we both don’t have a good record with those. Promises, I mean.”

“Let’s clear the slate,” you suggested softly. “Start over to a point where all broken promises of the past are nothing but a mere memory, okay?”

Reggie nodded, placing his hands over yours. “I’d really like that Cookie,”

You smiled, removing your hand from his cheek and linking your pinky with his. It was just like when you were kids, but slightly different. This time, it had so much more meaning of hope and love. “Then take my promise to your heart, Flicka, because I’m not leaving. No matter what.”

Reggie rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and letting whatever tears had gathered to fall down his cheeks. You lifted your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the spot right in between his eyes, letting your lips linger there a moment longer than they should have.

“Dance with me Cookie?” he whispered.

“Flicka, you know I suck at that,” you laughed quietly, ducking your head as your cheeks tinged red.

“Don’t worry,” he sniffed as you wiped a few of his stray tears. “I won’t leave you hanging,”

“Okay,” you breathed, allowing his hands to gently hold your waist while yours were wrapped around his shoulders.

As you gently swayed in the library you could vividly see two young teenagers in a brightly lit room dancing to the same song.

You could hear Reggie softly humming along with the tune, but when you opened your eyes and looked at him you were brought back to reality and realized what you needed to do,

“I’m gonna call the boys okay?” you said gently and Reggie winced. “I won’t tell them. I was just going to stay over at Rose’s place tonight so maybe we could all stay in the studio.” you suggested. “So you don’t have to go home.”

“Y-You’d do that?” he asked, a certain tone of surprise in his voice.

You pressed your lips together and nodded, pulling away from him.

Making your way to the phone behind Mr. Mallard’s desk, you dialled Rose’s house number first to ask if it was okay to have everyone over, before making the subsequent calls to Alex, Luke, and Bobby.

After dealing with the phone you checked the time. Technically you still had an hour of your detention left, but for today Mrs. Hillside just swore you to honesty.

As much as it made you anxious to do so you looked over at Reggie and raised a brow.

“Should we call it? We can walk over to Rose’s place. I told Luke to bring some comfortable clothes for you,”

“Sure,” he nodded and you hesitantly let go of his hand. For some reason it felt like it was too much at once. You just needed a few moments to yourself.

All you ever wanted was for things to go back to the way they were, but now that it seemed to be happening it was a lot to take in and Reggie sensed that so he didn’t push farther, only grabbing his bag and walking quietly by your side as you left the school through a backdoor that was locked from the outside.

The situation for you both might have been one to cause panic or worry, but right now you both relished the fact that your friends were sure to provide a wonderful distraction.

—

“Lady bunny, you’re wearing your pyjamas already?” Luke chuckled from his spot on the couch while you walked out of the washroom, day clothes folded in your arms.

“I intend on relaxing today, kidnapper, thank you very much,” you said in a matter of fact tone.

“You still wearing my shirt to bed, Cookie?” Reggie teased and you stuck your tongue out at him before retorting with,

“Still wearing that Star Wars underwear Flicka?”

“Yikes,” Alex scrunched up his nose and Reggie’s cheeks went a darker shade of red than they usually were.

“They still fit okay, it would be a waste,” Reggie fought back.

“No one wants to hear that,” Bobby grimaced while you and Rose laughed together, relaxing on the futon.

“Why don’t we play a game or something?” Rose suggested. “Just to pass time, I mean this is a sleepover isn’t it?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you nodded. “Any suggestions?”

“We could play would you rather?” Bobby said, “I mean that’s a favorite right?”

You nodded in agreement. “I haven’t played that game in a while, but I’m down.” Everyone gathered around the coffee table. Prepared to sit next to Reggie, you felt someone’s hand grab yours and tug you down. Looking to your right, you saw Luke smiling giddily at you.

“As your parent,” Luke said in a motherly tone. “I need to sit by your side in case any inappropriate language is used.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, Luke,” he said.

Luke gasped, covering your ears and pulling you to his chest. “Language!” he hissed. “We have a bunny here and I don’t want you to taint her mind with your demon words. No fucks, no shits, no dicks.” You shot the boy a look before pushing him off you.

“Would someone tell this guy I’m not five?” you rolled your eyes only to have one of your cheeks pinched by Reggie while he snickered and said,

“You sure look like it,” You threw an empty solo cup at him.

“Who wants to go first?” Rose asked with a wide grin.

“Oh me!” Luke exclaimed, raising his hand and waving it around wildly.

“Sometimes I don’t know what you’re on,” Alex sighed and the rest of the group laughed.

“Okay, okay, um, Bobby would you rather smash your guitar or have it run over by a semi?”

“That’s just cruel,” Bobby looked at Luke wide eyed and he just gave him a smirk in return. He sighed heavily before saying, “I’d like to think if I smashed it, it would be from rocking out so hard so I’ll go with that one,”

“Okay now it’s your turn,” you raised your brows at Bobby.

“Alright, (N/N), would you rather be locked in a room with Reggie or Luke?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Both are horrible options,” you began, making the boys yell out in response. “But the real question is: would I rather be babied to oblivion or be murdered?” you thought for a moment.

“I wouldn’t murder you!” Reggie exclaimed. “That’s too easy,” he smirked and you gasped, slapping his arm.

“Hush you!”

“What would you do to torture her then?” Rose asked curiously, knowing exactly what buttons she was pushing.

“Well see if you really want to get someone you make them fall in love with you and then break their heart,” Reggie explained casually.

“Oh that is cold Reggie,” Alex said with wide eyes.

“But I wouldn’t do that to (N/N), I think she deserves a murder,” Reggie shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip from his cup.

“Put me out of my misery,” you nodded. “Alright, I’d go with Reggie,”

Luke pouted, leaning his head on your shoulder. “But we’d have fun, Lady Bunny,” he whined. “Don’t you love me?”

You scoffed, flicking his forehead. “Barely,” you joked. Luke just grabbed you by the arms and brought you up to him, pressing a smacking kiss to her cheek.

“I’m your mom you have to love me,” he poked and you made a face, wiping your cheek after he had kissed you. “Hey! That was a sign of motherly love, how dare you!” You smirked, flipping him off before continuing the game.

After what seemed like hours passed, you and your friends got bored of the game once you started to run out of ideas.

Alex was nearly passed out on the floor, but Bobby nudged him awake. “Can we play a new game now?” Bobby sighed. “I know would you rather was my idea, but I’m kinda tired of it.”

You nodded tiredly, before your mind clicked with an idea,

“Wait how about MASH?” you asked curiously. “Reggie and I used to play it all the time,”

Reggie’s lips quirked up to a smile. “Yeah!” he exclaimed. “I’m still hoping I get that mansion and forty horses.”

“I don’t understand how you play rock music. Were you born in Montana or something?” Rose chuckled.

“Pfft,” Reggie scoffed while you laughed. He sighed and finally conceded with a nod. “Yeah okay, I’m not from here,”

“Wait you’re not!” Luke exclaimed and Reggie shook his head.

“I’m from Wyoming,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I moved here when I was like...four.”

Bobby’s face turned sour. “Wyoming doesn’t exist,” he said stubbornly.

Alex coughed, “Wait you don’t actually think that do you?”

“It’s a joke Alex, and you ruined it,” Bobby rolled his eyes. “But seriously Reg, Wyoming?” he frowned. “Like what do you even do there?”

“Live on a ranch,” Reggie sighed longingly and you tried to stifle a laugh, prompting him to put you in a headlock and ruffle your hair.

“You’re laughing right now, but no one knows where you’re from,” he smirked.

“Oh Reggie, you’re a dick.”

“Language!” Luke exclaimed, trying to cover your mouth while you protested and Reggie explained that you also were not a California native.

“(N/N)’s not from California either, she moved here when she was five,” Reggie explained.

“From where?!” Alex asked, completely invested.

“I thought we were gonna play MASH?” you tried to interject, but no one was listening to you and Reggie still had you locked under his arm. “Flicka don’t do this!”

“She’s from Canada!” he grinned and you groaned. “And the town she lived in is called Saint-Louis du Ha!-Ha!”

“Reginald!” you protested, finally wrestling yourself out of his grip while he laughed uncontrollably.

“The city has two exclamation marks in its name!”

“Guys,” Luke started seriously and Reggie’s laughter faded to silence as you listened to the band leader. “I-I have a confession to make. I’m also not from here,”

“You’re not?!” Bobby was coming close to losing it, having not known about his friends.

“I’m also from the Great White North,”

“Wait really?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’m from Fredrickton,” Luke grinned.

“No way!” you exclaimed giddily. “So are you Acadian?”

“Proudly so,” he nodded and you gave him a high five.

“Canucks unite!” you laughed, not noticing the pointed glare Reggie was sending Luke.

Bobby pulls his hair in frustration. “Okay, who else isn’t from California here?”

Rose sheepishly raised her hand, much to Bobby’s disbelief. “Puerto Rico?” she answered, more so like a question.

“Dude,” Alex said, shaking his head. “She has a strong Puerto Rican accent.”

Bobby stood up abruptly, storming off. “I’m out of here!”

You stifled back a giggle, calling out, “Bobby! Where are you going?”

“TO THE FUCKING GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE,” he yelled back. “MAYBE I’LL FIND ACTUAL CALIFORNIANS THERE.” You rolled his eyes at his dramatics. You knew he would probably make it out the door before coming back in. The boy was far too lazy to make the drive, anyway.

“I wonder if he realizes that I’m from California, too?” Alex pondered aloud. The entire group burst into laughter.

“Let’s just start the game without Bobby,” Rose suggested. “Who wants to go first?”

“I can go,” Reggie nodded, grabbing a scrap of paper and writing down the things for each category.

“Okay hit me with some career options,”

“Stripper,” you said, slapping his back and he rolled his eyes, but still followed the rules and wrote it down under occupations. “You’d be a terrible stripper though, you can’t dance and you have terrible balance,”

“Okay I’d be an amazing stripper, but that’s besides the point,” Reggie countered and continued writing all the names and places his friends wanted thrown in his options. “Alright numbers now right?” You hummed in response.

“Do five,” you said with a toothy grin. “That was how old we were when we met.”

Reggie nodded, starting to go down each list and circling whatever he landed on. At one point as he counted, his face turned red as he hid the paper from you and everyone else’s view. Once he was done, you tugged on his arm.

“Come on, Flicka,” you teased. “Show us what you got!”

Reggie cleared his throat, “I mean is that really necessary?” he asked cautiously.

“Come on it can’t be that bad,” Alex insisted.

“Um, well it’s not bad perse,”

“How do you know that word?” Luke teased and Reggie rolled his eyes. “Just tell us,”

“Alright well I got a house, a music teacher, two kids, five horses and I’ll live here,” he nodded, trying to avoid a certain topic.

“Who do you marry?” Rose asked curiously.

“No one?” he answered unsurely.

Rose rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t an option,” she reminded him. “Come on, it’s just a game, Reg. Just show it.” When Reggie refused to move, Rose resorted to snatching the paper from his hands.

“Rose!” he cried out, reaching for the paper.

The girl only held the paper far away, squinting her eyes to read the circled mark. “It’s (N/N)!” she squealed. Rose and Alex high fived each other while you dug your into Reggie’s chest, completely flustered. As a response, Reggie wrapped his arm around your waist and rested his head against yours.

“It’s okay (N/N),” he said loud enough for the rest to hear. “We can just murder them,” he smirked and they all burst into a fit of outrage, during which Reggie leaned in closer to you, his lips coming close to your ear while he whispered,

“It’s nice to take a break every once in a while, right?”

You nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, Cookie can let loose,” you joked.

“Of course she can,” he smiled, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to your temple before resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Oh my God did you see that!” Rose pointed to you and Reggie and he stuck his tongue out at her.

“What can’t a guy hug a gal?” he countered and you just placed your hand on Reggie’s mouth before he made it first, prompting him to teasingly bite your finger.

“Flicka!” you complained while Luke immediately came to your rescue.

“Guys! You gotta leave at least a foot for Jesus, come on this is beginner stuff,” he poked. Luke swatted Reggie’s hand away. “Get your hand off my daughter. I’m not ready to be a grandmother just yet, Peters.”

“Luke,” you whined at his extra comment.

“If they think this is bad they should’ve seen the dance Mrs. Leona made us do,” Reggie nudged you and you agreed with a chuckle.

“Since when are you guys in the dance class?” Bobby asked, coming back into the studio with more snacks.

“We’re not, Mrs. Hillside assigned under Mrs. Leona’s care for a day and we helped choreograph a dance for the sophomores next semester,” you explained, totally not realizing the implications of what you had said.

“You know they’re gonna make us dance now right?” Reggie sighed.

“Shit, they are, aren’t they,”

With a loud groan you both stood up and Reggie took your hand.

“From the top Cookie?”

“From the top,” you sighed with a roll of your eyes.

Rose reached for the speakers, connecting her MP3 to them and playing the song.

“Swing those hips, Reginald!” Luke whooped, reaching for the bowl of popcorn in the middle of the coffee table. Reggie mouthed a swear to his friend as his hands found his place on your hips.

“Watch where you’re putting those hands!” Rose warned. Rolling his eyes, Reggie teasing dropped his hands lower, only for you to swat them away.

“I’ll still bite you,” you hissed playfully.

“Promise?” he shot back.

Once the music started to play, you felt Reggie’s hand trail down your arm. Every move was burned to your memory as you danced along with Reggie. The comments of your friends -either cheering or teasing- escaped your mind.

And all that you wanted was for the night to never end.

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pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Orbit | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

Ayyyy this is for @veraiconcos fic writer palooza! I had a ton of fun working on this, check out their post for more details!

Summary: Since joining the BAU you have easily become one of Spencer’s best friends, and he is terrified he is going to lose you. (Gender neutral reader, platonic soulmates).

Category: Fluff

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR 4x24-5x01.

Word Count: 1830

As with all of my Galaxy Universe fics, the plot for this fic is fully standalone! If you like this relationship, I have a whole bunch of content that you can find in my GALAXY MASTERLIST

Spencer Reid didn’t have to be a genius to know he was sporting some abandonment issues. In his defense, though, he had been left by too many prominent people in his life and he was only 27 years old.

Even though he had only known you for a short while, you had easily secured a spot as one of his favorite people. As much as he enjoyed spending time with you and liked that he could be unapologetically himself, it terrified him that he could be so comfortable with you.

He wanted to shut down and shut you out, not let you see the broken pieces left by his father, Elle, and Gideon, but every time he tried you would do something so unapologetically you that it was impossible to stop feeling like the universe had created the two of you for the sole purpose of knowing the other.

It was the twinkle in your eye when you would remind Morgan that you were authorized to carry a larger gun than he was. It was the way you perched on Spencer’s desk while debating the best way to eat an Oreo. It was the pen you always carried that Spencer suspected was for him because you preferred pencil.

You were the one person Spencer felt most relaxed around, and there was still the looming possibility that you could choose to leave.

It wasn’t until the Anthrax case that Spencer realized how much he was afraid of you leaving. When he woke up in the hospital Morgan was the only one there, and your absence was the first thing he noticed. He should have felt grateful that Morgan had chosen to stay and he felt guilty that he was upset about your absence until you showed up with as many jello cups as you could possibly carry.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Red or green?” Your words had been so casual and comfortable, exactly what Spencer needed as Derek filled him in on how the case had ended. You listened quietly from his other side, spooning sugary gelatin into your mouth.

Spencer wanted to tell you then how much he was afraid of you leaving, but he also didn’t want to speak it into existence. He decided to keep his mouth shut about it, let the secret fester in his soul until he figured out a better way to deal with it.

Then you went to Canada.

At first you were on the streets with Derek and Emily while Spencer stayed at the precinct to go over victimology. You called him right after you were done talking to the locals and on your way to meet back up with Morgan and Prentiss.

“I don’t know, Spence. Something about this feels off,” you told him when he asked how it had gone.

“How so?” he trusted your instincts, if you were able to pinpoint your source of uncertainty it could help him nail down the victimology.

“Everyone out here is being hyper vigilant. Nobody’s wandering off on their own, as far as I can tell. I don’t think this is just some guy who killed 10 people. There’s something bigger going on here, we just have to figure out what.”

As a man of science, Spencer was still working out how you knew the things you did from just a gut feeling. He wasn’t surprised when you were right.

Once the team had a better scope of things at the farm, Hotch assigned you and Spencer to learn as much as you could about Lucas Turner. After coming up empty in the house, it was your idea to check the barn. A comfortable, but serious silence fell between you as you found what you were looking for.

You were looking over his shoulder at the crayon drawing he was holding when Hotch came to check in on your findings.

“Hey Hotch,” you called to your unit chief as he started walking away, “do you ever get the feeling that a case isn’t going to end well?” Spencer wondered what cosmic events had to have occurred to give him the pleasure of knowing someone who mirrored his own thoughts so perfectly.

“Keep looking,” Hotch had said sternly before leaving, “this girl needs us.”

“That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for,” you sighed, turning back to the collection of objects in the barn.

“What did you want him to say?”

“Something validating, I guess. Sure, this girl needs us and I’m not saying we won’t find her, but even if she’s alive there’s still what- a hundred victims already dead? A hundred victims with families and lives. A hundred people…”

You were right, Spencer knew that. If he had learned anything while working with you, it was that your gut feelings usually had some merit to them. If you were feeling like this wasn’t going to end well, it probably wasn’t. He wondered if you would stay with the BAU if you were right, and with that came back the creeping fear he had been trying to avoid.

He didn’t have time to dwell on the fact that he hadn’t processed his issues with your abandonment he wasn’t even sure was coming.

You took the Metro home with him, he didn’t have to ask to know that you were too tired to drive and could take the metro back to work once you were better rested.

“Spencer,” you had murmured sleepily from the seat next to him in the almost empty car.

“Hmmm?”

“This might sound really stupid, but do you ever feel like we were meant to be friends?”

Spencer swore his heart skipped a beat. All the mathematical equations in the world couldn’t explain the way you seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.

“There's an old Buddhist saying that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making,” he quipped, “but yes. I do.”

“So you think we’re soulmates?” you smirked.

“Assuming one perfect soulmate exists for every person on the planet and you’re in the same age range as your soulmate, there’s still 500 million potential candidates. Mathematically speaking, of course.”

Your eyes sparked at the debate, though your eyelids were still heavy “I thought there was 500 years of prep work behind it though. 500 years is long enough to filter through 500 million. That’s one million a year.”

“If I wasn’t convinced we were soulmates before, your math skills have sealed the deal.”

“Of course they have. I’m smarter than I look,” you boasted.

“Is intelligence something you can determine by appearance?”

“You tell me, genius. I think you look pretty smart.”

“You know, (y/n), I think you’re just as smart as I am,” he told you honestly. You furrowed your brow in confusion.

“Are you kidding? I failed high school Algebra twice.”

“Academic achievement isn’t the only way to measure intelligence,” he reminded you, “the way your brain works is exceptional.”

“Not right now, it isn’t. I feel like mush. Do cases stop hitting this hard once you’ve been doing this for a while?”

“No, my brain feels like mush too.”

“Go home and get some sleep, ok?” you instructed when it was your stop. Spencer waved as you walked away.

He saw you again sooner than he thought, insomnia not allowing him to sleep so he was the first to receive JJ’s call. He took the Metro to your apartment, knocking on the door until you answered. He was surprised at how quickly you were ready to go, knocking your elbow into his as you left your building to go back into work.

“Old habits, I guess,” you shrugged when he brought it up. It ended up being the most casual interaction of your day, another whirlwind of a case happening with the whole team running on not much sleep.

While Spencer stayed with Dr. Barton to go over medical charts, you went to the school with Morgan and JJ to protect Jeffrey. It was irrational, he knew, but he couldn’t help but wish you were still with him to work on building the profile.

He didn’t want to admit it (he wanted the team to focus on the gunned down unsub and Dr. Barton), but he was glad you were the first one by his side when you finally made it back to the doctor’s house. You stayed with him, even when he told the team about Hotch. In fact, you didn’t leave his side the entire ambulance ride and his time at the hospital.

JJ came into his hospital room a few times to update the two of you on Hotch’s situation, and every time he expected you to leave with her but you didn’t. When he was released from the hospital you drove him home, helping him up to his apartment. Once he was settled, you busied yourself making his home more accessible for the injured man.

Spencer felt sort of awkward as you hummed to yourself, and rightly so. You hadn’t spent much time outside of work together and now he was stuck on his couch with limited mobility. All things considered though, he really didn’t want you to go. He didn’t want you to leave his apartment, he didn’t want you to leave the BAU, and he didn’t want you to leave his life like so many other people that he cared about had.

In a stroke of genius, he realized that he had to tell you. He had to open up the possibility for you to stay to figure out if you were going to leave.

“(y/n)?” he called to you as you finished up putting away his clean dishes in the kitchen.

“What’s up?”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?”

There was a moment of silence that Spencer quickly realized was you moving through his small apartment to grab your bag before you happily joined him on the couch, sitting down carefully as to not jostle his leg.

“Of course I would, did you think I was leaving?”

Spencer blushed, “I don’t know… people who I care about have a tendency to leave.” He watched your features soften.

“Spencer,” you started, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you.”

You didn’t need to clarify further, you both knew the weight your words held and it relieved the tension Spencer had been sporting since the beginning of your friendship like a weighted blanket relieves anxiety.

“Do you want to watch this movie I got from the library about alien abductions in Alaska? I’ve heard it’s super creepy and I didn’t really want to watch it alone anyways.”

Spencer grinned at your suggestion, “there was actually a study that showed that people who claimed to be abducted by aliens were predisposed to sleep paralysis and hypnosis. Should we order some food? When was the last time you ate?”

#vicficwriterchallenge #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #platonic imagine #platonic soulmates

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jamestrmtx · 4 years ago

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Five | Snowy

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Here's an early update this week to make up for last week's missed update (due to finals).

As a result, expect the usual update on Saturday, as well!

Also, there’s now a Tag List at the bottom of this chapter -- Feel free to message me or comment if you'd like to be included on the list!

• • •

"...So, did you go to the doctor?"

"Yes, dear."

"And what did she say?"

"It's possible I have anemia or something because of malnutrition."

"What's anemia?"

"That just means I don't have enough blood to stay active and do things as I usually do."

"And why did that happen? You've always made us eat healthy!"

"Frisk, honey…" You sigh and place a hand over your forehead, massaging the ache away. "I get that you're worried, but I need a moment to concentrate. The food'll burn if I keep getting distracted."

"Let me help you, then!"

"Not today. You should do your homework now so I can check it later."

"Why? I can help you if you're busy. And Toriel can help me with that later anyway!"

Needing patience, you stop your work on the stew and let out another breath, longer yet quieter this time. Then, you take a sip of water and set the cup aside to wash for later. "You're not going to see any more of your monster friends until I can at least get to know some of them better." You turn off the stove and let the stew rest while you do the same. "Toriel's an exception, yes. But that doesn't mean I'll allow you to visit her place if people like Sans are going to be there, too."

"But he helps me with science!"

"I'll take care of that, then."

"But you're busy!"

"I can make time."

"But isn't it okay if Toriel's gonna be there with him?"

"If it was, I wouldn't be telling you about this in the first place."

Frisk huffs and pouts, arms crossing as they look away from you. "It's not like he's a ticking time bomb anyway. He… He's not gonna hurt me!"

"How can you be so sure? Your (dad/other dad) left us out of the blue."

"I don't care about him, and he's not my dad anymore! Y- You shouldn't call him that, and you should stop comparing other people with him!"

"Don't talk like that. You know that's not-"

"It's true!" Their words almost come off in a shriek and tears stain their face. "He- He doesn't care about me anymore, so I won't care about him, either. It's his fault why you had to go to the doctor in the first place!"

You stay quiet and watch as they blink through the tears, sniffling some of them back. Sensing they need a break from your gaze, you turn back to the stove and focus on continuing with the meal.

"I… I was okay with it the first week, but when I noticed how much better we've been doing just with Toriel alone, I- I got really, really mad at him! He doesn't care about us anymore, and he left us even before I ran away. If he wants to show he cares, then… Then he has to do something else besides sending you dumb What'sUp messages all the time."

You stop what you're doing again and catch the salt shaker just as it's about to fall into the pot, stew still resting and waiting for you to finish with flavouring it. Thankfully, the safety lock keeps it from making a mess, so you place it back where it was and thank the Heavens you don't have to salvage the food from being oversalted. When you recover, you stop looking at the pot to meet with Frisk's eyes, directing your widened ones at them.

"How do you know that?"

"It's obvious! Your face always gets all scrunched up and grumpy, and the ringtone's different to all the others."

"And what if it's someone else?'

"You don't text anyone else besides auntie and Sans sometimes!"

Their words hit you like a punch to the gut.

Having your social life summarized so quickly almost makes you wince, and you feel the urge to ground them simply for those words alone, rather than for their earlier conduct regarding how they talked about Jerry. "I'm afraid I'll have to take your own phone away if you keep doing this. I don't know how you even figured all that stuff out, but you know it's not good to sneak up on things like this. You should ask me if you're curious, dear. And... And not just take a look at those messages whenever I'm not around."

"I haven't snooped around! The messages would show they're read, but all the stuff Jerry's sent you's still unread."

You smile and choose not to mention on how they continue to corner themselves the longer they speak, though you do acknowledge their awareness over small details, taking advantage of that by asking, "So that means you've read auntie and Sans's texts?"

They nod, unhesitating. "I know auntie's been telling you to get in touch with friends again. And you have a tour date with Sans this weekend!"

"Tour date where?"

"The Underground!"

"And besides those two people, who's the last person I texted, and how long ago was it?"

Frisk stays quiet for a while this time, but it's made clear they're only seeking that information from their memory rather than realizing how far they've dug themselves into a hole. "Your coworker was last month, and one of your friends was two months ago." Their response is confident, although it doesn't take longer than a few seconds of silence between you for them to notice their mistakes. You don't say anything and stare at them with squinted eyes and an equally humoured grin, waiting. "Um…" They can only stare with wide eyes; their body stays still while their mind processes just what exact mistakes were made. "I…"

"Go shower and dress up, dear," you say, biting back your smile. "We'll eat first before we go, and we can talk on the way there."

"To Toriel's place?"

You nod. "It's about time I met her in person rather than calls. And frankly, it's been… really irresponsible of me to let you continue visiting her despite me not being aware of who she is in person. I only allowed it because Serif was there, but after learning about what he did, I really don't want you near him."

"But you guys are going on a date this weekend!"

"If you're smart enough to know opening a message shows you've read it, then I'm sure you know that's not what that word means in that context."

"...What's context?"

"I won't keep playing your game, dear."

"But what if I really don't know what it means?"

"Then you can find it in a dictionary, or you can ask your tutors about it."

"You're being mean!"

"And you're being nosy."

Frisk frowns and crosses their arms. They attempt an angered expression, though it results in a faltering grimace as they try not to let their sadness known. Their lips stay pressed close together and their body shakes, all signs of them wanting to cry their feelings out. Still, they push through and regain some calm through a sigh. "I…" Their tone is just as reluctant as their posture, so you don't pressure and stay quiet. "I'm sorry, (mom/dad)." They let their arms loosen and stare up at you with stern eyes. "I was just worried about you. I… I didn't mean to look through your stuff. And I… I didn't mean to make you angry. I-"

"I'm not angry." You place a hand over their head and smile, tickling the back of their ear and gaining a smile back from them. "But what you did really wasn't right." You pause and take a breath, already weak and dizzied despite it still being one in the afternoon. "And even though there're times where you have to go against the rules, this isn't one of them. You could've gotten into trouble if it was a stranger or someone else, or you could've learned something the wrong way. If you need to know something, you should ask me directly, not just play spy about it. I won't know what's bothering you if you keep hiding it from me and getting your answers like this. Alright?"

Frisk responds with a hug rather than words. Their hold is tight, and they nearly cling onto you, face pressing against your torso as they cry against it. "I'm sorry," they whisper through their sniffles and hiccups, holding on tighter. "I- I… Could you tell me what's making you sad next time, then?"

"Of course, honey." You place a hand against the back of their head and brush your fingers through their hair. "...I should've done that sooner, too." You smile when they let go and meet with their eyes, these red and watery from the recent cry. "Your hair's getting longer," you add, ruffling it up. "Do you wanna cut it, or do you like it this way?"

"I like it this way!" Their words are as bright as their smile, and another look at them reveals a weight's been lifted off their shoulders. "Should I go do my homework now? I wanna stay with you today."

"Sure," you reply, letting your smile grow. "Do what you already know. I'll be there in a few to help you out."

"Thanks, (mom/dad)!"

With that, they stand on their tiptoes and kiss your cheek. Then, they run off to their room, leaving you to finish with the stew.

• • •

Frisk's return equals to having a cramped calendar, where every single day's marked down with a sticker and a note to remind you over what you have to do.

Still, it doesn't erase the fact you need time for yourself, so you take up Frisk's concern over your health and happiness as advice for you to take better care of yourself. You start by stretching after an hour long nap, drinking some water, and opening up the envelope the two skeleton brothers had given you. Anticipation arrives with the reminder of what Papyrus hinted at about its contents. You tear it open, pull out the first thing you touch, and continue doing so until there's nothing left to take out and place on your nightstand. You then look at all the items laid out and notice that -- besides the business card Papyrus mentioned -- all other items are what he'd informed were from his brother.

Besides Alphys's contact information, there's...

What looks like a bunny-shaped notepad.

Two admission tickets.

A folded paper with some cards stuck to it.

And, as you feared, money.

If Papyrus mentioned only about Alphys's contact information being there, then it's a likelihood to assume the rest is from his older brother.

You take the notepad first and open it to see the first page has already been filled out, and it reads:

"so, uh… hey."

"i'm not too good at writin' letters, but i thought this notepad would be useful now that you're gonna keep a contact list of all the monsters frisk made friends with. i took the liberty of puttin' in the first ten i could think of. start with those first, and don't push yourself too hard."

The fourth and second to last item from the monster is what looks like an agreement letter and a pair of travel visas attached to it. You squint at the tiny lettering and adjust your glasses to begin with the reading.

"With the approval of former Royal Sentry and Judge, Comic Sans Serif, I hereby allow for (miss/mister) (Y/N) (L/N) to traverse the Underground with him by their side. It is important to note these tickets will expire in three days after their initial use, and that another permit would need to be requested if the user so requires to visit the Underground again. I would also like to let known that it was not in my decision to have all these restrictions made, but it has been requested by the government that we restrict access to the Underground until they determine it is safe for humankind to visit. These visas have been given for the sole sake of having both of Frisk's parents well-informed over their child's journey, and said adults' safety should be provided by mister Serif. Any danger they face at the Underground shall be blamed on him for his inability to keep up with the requirements of this agreement, which include providing (miss/mister) (L/N) specifically with both protection and knowledge alike. A second permit has been provided in case that Frisk's other parent decides to accept the offer, as well. – Asgore Dreemurr."

Below all that is a note written with a soft shade of pencil graphite, allowing you to erase it after reading.

"take care, pal."

Ignoring the smile on your face, you proceed to the third item: two admission tickets for what's titled as 'A Spectacular Drama by Mettaton'. Attached to one of them is a second sticky note along with a shorter memo written down on it. It makes sense as to why the agreement letter had a 'take care' on it, given it's the last item you'd pulled out besides the money. Had you checked them all in that order, that last memo would've been a closing of sorts.

"there's gonna be a big show in two months. dunno if you and your kid celebrate the holiday, but frisk seemed to like snowdin, so i figured they'd also like seeing a whole bunch of events related to that. it says 'drama' only, but that's just mettaton highlightin' what he finds the most important."

"tell me when the time comes if you're up for it. i can help you get to know the guy better before then."

The money's the only thing left and the only one that leaves questions behind. You take the batch and count in hopes of finding some answers, though the longer you do that, the stranger it gets.

20…

40…

60…

80…

100…

That pattern repeats for two more times, making it three-hundred in total.

Just as you wonder why you've been handed such a large amount, you have the urge to look at yourself in the coffee table's reflection to see you're not exactly looking any better than before.

Both him and his brother had noticed that. It's almost been two weeks, and yet you've still the same tired look to your face. Constant lost hours of sleep, excessive stress, and practicing a poor diet had left almost irreparable damage on your body and mind alike, enough for even non-human people to notice the change.

All things considered though, how were you supposed to hate an enemy when they acted like this?

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Happy Holidays!

I know times are tougher than ever, but stay strong and remember to practice social distancing if you're making small get-togethers with family/those in your same household, apartment, or campus.

Take care, and stay safe. :-)

(Holiday special incoming soon enough!!)

Tag List

@the-simp-express

(This is a temporary format until I learn more about Tag Lists! I'm a Tumblr noob, lol.)

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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sunshinejins · 4 years ago

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if i was dying on my knees (you’d be the one to rescue me)

(title from brother by kodaline)

so, hi! jatp has reignited my desire to write again and this time i think i might actually finish a whole fic. so uh, here it is :) please let me know if you like it, I’ll hopefully update asap, but i’m in uni so asap may be in like two weeks. unless people really like it. then, probably sooner lmao.

pairing: julie molina x luke patterson

fandom: julie and the phantoms

warnings: death bc rose, and i swear once but other than that i think nothing else?

Julie didn’t want to be frustrated, she really didn’t. In fact, she wanted to be sad, mourning, depressed, or literally anything other than slightly pissed off all the time. It’s incredibly exhausting to be angry all the time, and she felt like being sad would at least give her blood a break from simmering.

But her mom died. And apparently her body only knows how to process grief by developing a rather annoying tendency to be irritated constantly.

She tries to forget it though. Instead of wallowing in the negative feelings that cloud her family in the months following Rose Molina’s death, she throws herself into distractions. She gets a job at a coffee shop near the USC campus and puts almost all her effort into becoming a top employee. Her grades don’t drop because thankfully her professors seemed to all inherently understand that she just couldn’t sing anymore. Like at all.

The world kept spinning. Julie could only hope to hold on.

That’s how she ended up, six months later, complaining over a milk frother about her very well-intentioned best friend to the only person she knew would listen.

“Flynn just doesn’t understand,” Julie moans, shutting off the machine and dumping the contents unceremoniously into a to-go cup. Her coworker, Allison, raises an eyebrow and swipes a rag at the milk spill that pools under the cup.

“Did she try to get you to sing again?”

“Surprise karaoke night with her girlfriend and a couple kids from class. Her intentions were pure though so I don’t even know why I’m upset.” Julie shoves a lid onto the cup and slides it across the counter to a pre-occupied businessman who doesn’t notice the extra milk soaked into the bottom. Allison nods thoughtfully and starts dumping coffee beans into the espresso machine. Julie watches her with slight awe. Allison was one of those people that terrified Julie when she met her; everything about her felt polished and put together down to the blunt cut of her pale blonde hair and the curve of her smirk when she smiled. Soon enough, Julie discovered that she was as warm as any of her other friends, but it had taken a lot of closing shifts and smoothie runs to come to that conclusion.

Allison sets down the bag of coffee beans and gives Julie one of her solemn looks; it’s the sort of look where Julie thinks Allison could probably read her mind if she tried hard enough.

“Maybe they’re going about it wrong. You haven’t been around music properly in what? A year? What if you just need to sit and listen to music again to just get you used to the environment?” Julie thinks for a moment. Allison raises a fair point, and it’s the complete opposite tactic that everyone else has been trying, which has been to shove music in front of her to sing and give her expectant and hopeful looks. It’s a trial run. Something casual.

“Where would I go?” Allison smiles a bit and passes Julie a container of oat milk to put away.

“There’s a bar off Sunset that’s hosting an open mic tonight. Very relaxed and casual vibes. I could pick you up from your apartment and take you. We haven’t hung out since that movie night a while ago.” Julie hesitates. It’s not that she’s opposed to spending a night with Allison, but a small part of her feels like she’s cheating on her current circle of emotional support humans by agreeing to go. Not that her dad or Carlos or Tia would mind, but Flynn would possibly take offence and that alone stalled Julie for longer than she realized. Allison clocks the look on her face and amends the statement.

“Flynn is obviously welcome too.”

A mind reader, Julie swears.

“Hell yeah. Let’s do this.”

***

Julie’s feeling significantly less optimistic when Allison’s car has been driven away by the valet and herself, Flynn, and Allison are all standing in line outside the club. Julie can feel the bass of the songs playing more than she can hear them, but the proximity of music is enough to make her palms sweat. Other than the music the coffee shop plays and the strains of country she hears through Carlos’ wall, Julie hasn’t heard proper music since Tia Victoria sang “Amazing Grace” for her mother’s funeral. Flynn notices her nervous look.

“Chill, Jules. It’s all very chill. We’re just gonna listen to a couple bands.”

“Flynn’s right. And if at any point you want to bail, we can go get soft pretzels.”

“But we should try and stay for the whole thing!”

“However, we’re also going to respect you if you can’t do that,” Allison punctuates this sentence with a meaningful eyebrow raise and Flynn nods vigorously. Julie swallows and tries to mimic the courage she had a few hours ago. The bartender scrutinizes their IDs for a moment before allowing them to sweep into the bar and Julie’s jaw nearly drops at the volume of people contained inside. Nearly every seat is filled, and the standing areas are packed with people all jamming to the band onstage that’s currently playing what Julie has to admit is a pretty kick ass cover of “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers.

Allison somehow discovers a table near the edge of the bar, and disappears off to get them drinks. Flynn’s rocking out already, and Julie feels a few of the nerves in her stomach even out as the realization that she doesn’t have to sing sinks into her bones. Allison was right, unsurprisingly. If she focuses hard enough, she can even push out the memories of coming to these sorts of open nights with her mom. Flynn shoots her a large and grateful grin and Julie lets herself smile back. She’s taking a step. She’s doing it.

Allison returns as the band switches and a new band begins to play a hyped up cover of “Africa” by Toto. The three girls lapse into quiet appreciation of the music, with Flynn singing along to every song played, Allison bobbing her head to herself and occasionally letting out a few notes in her vocal range, and Julie just quietly appreciating the fact that she doesn’t feel like throwing up.

It’s all very casual, just like her friends said.

Until it’s not.

As the third band of the night begins their last song, Julie retreats to find the bathroom. It’s hidden nearly backstage, and she’s just about to make it to the door when she hears the panicked shouts of someone from near the curtain which separates the small backstage from the actual performing area.

“Dude, I cannot believe he bailed on us.”

“Are you really surprised? Bobby was a piece of shit.”

“Hey, he didn’t use to be!”

“Calm down, Reg. You know he’s been treating us like garbage ever since that record label thought he had a ‘marketable voice’ or whatever they said.”

“Guys he bailed on us, what are we supposed to do?”

Julie, despite all the “stranger danger” lessons running through her brain, backed up far enough to see into the backstage area. Three guys stood there, two with a guitar and a bass each and one with drumsticks he was nervously twirling. The one with the guitar had his face buried in his hands and kept swearing heavily under his breath. The other two seemed frozen in their own panic as well. Guitar Player removed his hands from his face and Julie caught a glimpse of worried hazel eyes and dark curls. Bass Player opened his arms and Guitar Player tumbled into them for a hug while Drum Player rubbed his back. The three guys looked absolutely wrecked.

Here’s the thing: Julie had an uncontrollable urge to help people. It’s how she got roped into half of Flynn’s schemes, how she ended up teaching Carlos all of his second grade science curriculum herself, and how she somehow became the unofficial backbone of her family after her mom died. Seeing three guys utterly wrecked because, presumably, their fourth bandmate had bailed on them? It activated that uncontrollable urge deep in her stomach.

Here’s another thing: Julie hasn’t played music or sang in six months. She’s had no desire to, and every time she’s tried, the distinct urge to throw up overtook her. Tonight was supposed to be the baby step that showed her whether or not music was something she could seriously consider again; whether or not she could feel that itch to perform anymore.

“Hey, do you guys need a fourth?”

She felt the itch.

The three guys looked up in varying levels of shock. Drum Player recovered first, and stepped towards her hesitantly, wringing his pink hoodie as he did.

“Um, what?”

“It sounded like someone bailed on you. I can play. If you need it.” Guitar Player recovers next and nearly bounds over to her in barely contained excitement.

“You can play rhythm guitar?”

“No,” the three boys deflate, “I can play piano though.” Guitar Player tilts his head to the side as though playing a melody through in his head. He turns back to the other two.

“Bright could fit piano.”

“We never wrote the music for a piano component,” Drum Player wrinkles his nose.

“I did,” Guitar Player admits. The other two don’t look phased, though Bass Player does raise an eyebrow. “I was bored!”

“Okay, but we don’t want to put you out,” Drum Player turns back to Julie and she swallows.

“No, I offered. Let me see the music.”

“Okay, but you have like ten minutes!” Bass Player finally chips in with a surprisingly cheerful tone. Guitar Player hands Julie what looks like a piece of notebook paper and her eyes skim the words and notes. It’s feasible for sure, but she can feel the nerves prickling at her stomach. Guitar Player leans into her space and she clocks how ridiculously attractive he is up close. He gives her a smile.

“We alternative verses like this, see? And I don’t know your range, but we can figure that out on the go.” Julie gives him a small smile.

“Somewhere between mezzo-soprano and soprano.”

“We can work with that.” Guitar Player seems to vibrate with energy. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“No pressure,” Bass Player adds.

“Like seriously, none. We can just go home and cry,” Drum Player says. Julie isn’t sure. She really isn’t. In fact, she’s pretty sure she should just run away and hope she never sees these guys again.

“I’m sure.”

Well, that’s that.

Guitar Player sends her a smile that looks genuinely like someone has funnelled sunlight into his body and Julie feels the nerves lift for half a second. Then, they’re called to the stage and all of a sudden she feels like she could puke all over again. Guitar Player grabs her hand and squeezes it.

“You got this.”

Julie files out with the rest of the band and she’s extremely grateful her friends aren’t sitting in her direct line of sight. The piano is definitely worn out from use, but her fingers settle naturally on the keys and Julie tries to focus on the budding itch to perform in her stomach rather than the urge to throw up. She’s supposed to start this song. This song that she became aware of ten minutes earlier. She catches Guitar Player’s eye and he nods encouragingly.

She presses down on the keys and opens her mouth.

Sometimes I think I'm falling down

I wanna cry, I'm calling out

For one more try to feel alive

And when I feel lost and alone

I know that I can make it home

Fight through the dark and find the spark

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #julie x luke #julie molina x luke patterson #juke #jukebox #jukebox fanfiction #juke fanfiction #julie x luke fanfiction #reggie peters #alex mercer #jatp #my writing #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #can i possibly tag this with anything else??? idk

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bus-stop-to-kpop · 5 years ago

Text

Your New Padawan (Part 1) (Oh Sehun x Reader)

Pairing: Jedi!Sehun x Reader

Genre: Science Fiction, Star Wars!AU

Summary: Your life changes when three Jedi Knights save you from death

Word Count: 2,798

A/N: Hey, it’s me, Admin A, and I’m back with a new fanfiction. I decided to make at least two parts of this fanfiction, because it would have been too long I thought, so stay tuned for updates ^^ This story takes place around the Clone Wars, I don’t know if you need much Star Wars knowledge to read this, but I think it should also work well without. Have fun!

~ Admin A

You’ve been living on Mandalore since you’ve been a child. And you had never left the planet in your whole life. Your daily schedule always looks the same: waking up, helping your parents on the farm and going to bed. The days come and go, it’s always the same and it’s boring.

Your parents hope that one day you will take over the farm and keep the family business going. But you don’t feel like it’s what you’re meant to do, meant to be. Something is always missing. If you would just know what it is…

~*~

Jedi Knight Oh Sehun and Jedi Master Kim Jongin are currently on Mandalore’s moon Concordia, searching for the hideouts of the Death Watch in the abandoned mines. They have been trying to track down the group of former Mandalorian warriors for a few days now. But there is no sign of them, they seem to have just disappeared.

“Master, we just got an emergency call from Mandalore. The Death Watch are out there, destroying defenseless villages and farms.” Master Kim’s Padawan Do Kyungsoo runs up to them, sharing the news he just received from his position in their space ship.

“We have to be quick, let’s go! Do you have the coordinates, Kyungsoo?” Master Kim asks his Padawan, who answers with a nod and all three of them run back to the ship.

~*~

You are currently out on the fields when you hear shots and screaming from the village. The Death Watch has arrived. Everyone knows them and fears them, the group of former Mandalorian warriors who are now spreading death and fear, trying to take over Mandalore.

At first you try to hide in the fields, afraid what might happen to you if the Death Watch would find you. But then you remember: your parents. They are still at the farm.

You don’t care about hiding anymore and run towards your home. What you don’t see are, that two of the Death Watch see you and follow you.

“Watch out!” A stranger suddenly shouts and pulls you away when one of the two Death Watch members fires a shot.

The stranger takes out a lightsaber and attacks them, two more strangers with a lightsaber join him a few seconds later.

But that’s impossible, you think. Only a Jedi owns such a weapon and what would three Jedi do in the Outer Rim Territories? No one ever comes to this planet.

The two who attacked you are soon struck down by the three Jedi. One of them comes up to you, he is one of them who joined your savior earlier.

“Are you okay? Or are you hurt?” he asks concerned and you shake your head. You aren’t hurt, only shocked.

“I’m okay, thank you for saving me. But there are more of them in the village, I think they need your help more than I do for now.” You answer him.

“We are on our way. Kyungsoo, can you accompany our new friend home to assure that she is save? Sehun and I can manage them alone for now.”

“Yes, Master Kim” the smallest of the three says and joins you on your way home.

You want to turn back and thank your savior, but you see that he and the other one already left, so you and the small Jedi keep on walking.

“Can I ask you some questions?” you ask curiously. Even though you almost died a few moments ago you are longing to know what three Jedi Knights are doing on this abandoned side of the galaxy.

“Sure” he answers shortly.

“Okay first: What is your name and are you a Jedi?”

“My name is Do Kyungsoo and I’m not yet a Jedi. I’m a Padawan, Jedi Master Kim Jongin trains me. He was the one who talked to you a few moments ago. And the other one is Jedi Knight Oh Sehun.” Kyungsoo tells you without hesitation. It’s nice to see how much trust he is already showing you even though you just met.

“Oh no, I haven’t introduced myself yet. My name is Y/N and I live with my parents outside of the village at a farm.” You say, recognizing your mistake.

“That’s okay, you still must be a bit shocked from the attack.” Kyungsoo smiles.

“And what exactly are you doing here? Mandalore usually doesn’t host many Jedi” you laugh awkwardly.

“Actually we are here to hunt down the Death Watch. We got an emergency call from the village and we came”

“Oh, that’s actually very nice of you that you came.” You say.

“We are hunting the Death Watch and protecting the victims, it was obvious that we would help” Kyungsoo says with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, that was kind of stupid of me. But the Death Watch hasn’t been there since yesterday. They’ve been performing attacks like this over the whole planet for months and years. It was only a matter of time until they would come here.” You state, with a silent question in the air. Why not sooner?

“To be honest, no one knew about the attacks until a few days. The government did their best to hide it and your planet isn’t exactly close to any other planets of the republic. About a week ago someone from the planet arrived and told us about how his village was destroyed. The Jedi High Council then sent us to help.” Kyungsoo explains patiently to you.

“Our government really is crap. Sorry for my choice of words. But again, thank you.”

“As I said, it was only natural for us to help. Wait, something is wrong. Run, Y/N!” Kyungsoo activates his lightsaber and turns around to see that another member of the Death Watch just fired a shot from his blaster pistol.

You raise your hands over your head as a weak sign of defense, close your eyes and wait for it to hit you. You know that it’s hopeless, a sniper like him would never miss his target.

But the pain never comes. Slowly, you start to open your eyes again. You can’t believe what you see. The shot which was fired from the blaster pistol seems to be frozen in the air right before you.

You fall down stumble backwards, looking over to Kyungsoo, who is taking down your attacker.

The Padawan turns around when he’s finished and it seems like his eyes are about to fall out when he sees the shot.

“Is this you?” you ask him with similarly wide eyes and he shakes his head.

“Y/N, this is you. You are strong with the Force. You are qualified to be a Jedi.”

~*~

“Breathe Kyungsoo, breathe. Now tell me again, what happened?” Master Kim asks his apprentice.

“A member of the Death Watch attacked us and Y/N blocked his shot. It simply froze in the air and later it hit a tree after Y/N was safe” Kyungsoo explains, struggling to speak slowly.

“I also thought that there was something special about Y/N. We can say more after a midichlorian test.” Sehun throws in. That’s the first time you hear him speak, actually. It’s a nice voice, you think.

You are sitting in your house with your parents, the three Jedi just arrived.

“Listen, Y/N. There is a chance that we can take you with us and train you to become a Jedi if you want to. But first, we need to take a bit of your blood to test it. Is this okay?” Master Kim asks you.

The only answer you give is a nod and you uncover your arm for them to take a sample of your blood. Sehun walk towards you and kneels down, he takes out a little device and lays it gently on your arm.

The little sting almost goes unnoticed by you, because you are too busy to calm down your heart rate as Sehun holds your arm in place.

You have known the man for a few hours and you are already falling for him. It’s hopeless with you, he spoke one time, and not even to you, and you are whipped for him. His sharp eyebrows and jawline, even his resting bitch face make your heart flutter.

“Everything alright? We will send the sample to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant and they will send us the results soon.”

That’s it. He just spoke to you. You are going to scream, you think. But instead of screaming, you answer with a hoarse voice “Yes, it’s okay, you can go send it”

The Jedi Knight leaves the room to call the Temple, the other two Jedi sit down across you and your parents.

“Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, I know this must be very confusing for you. Your child, Y/N, seems to be strong with the Force and we want to give her the opportunity to be trained as one. Usually training starts at a very young age, but there are always exceptions. We understand it, if you want to think about it and discuss it with your child. This isn’t a decision you can make without thinking about it.” Master Kim explains to your parents.

“We would never prevent our child from being happy. And it is indeed a rare opportunity. If this is your dream, what you really want to do, we won’t have anything getting in your way. Of course we will miss you so much, but we will manage. We love you and want you to be the best person you can be.” Your mom says, with tears in her eyes.

“But mom, dad, don’t you need me here? Who will help you if I’m not around?” you stutter, close to crying, too.

“It’s fine, Y/N, we can hire someone. We will manage, as your mother said. We will miss you, but it would make us so happy and proud to know that you did better than us. That you managed to get out of this village, this planet. Go and make us proud, Y/N” your father says and hugs you.

Now the tears start to fall. You hold your father tight and let your mother join the hug.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I managed to inform the Jedi High Council. We can take Y/N with us, they will find a Master to train her.” Sehun suddenly entered the room again.

Slowly you unclasp your tight grip on your parents and turn around.

“Okay, I will go and pack my things. Mom, Dad, I love you so much. I will never forget you and what you did for me. But I always knew that something was missing, something was not right here. Now I know my destiny and I already feel so much better. I will go and make you proud.” You say and leave the room to pack your necessities.

A few minutes later you come in again and give your parents a last hug which seems to last for ages. At least you want it to last for ages, but it will never be enough to show your love and appreciation for your parents.

“Goodbye. I will make you proud, Mom and Dad.”

~*~

You and Sehun are sitting in the space ship to Coruscant. Master Kim and Kyungsoo decided to stay on Mandalore to finish their mission to track down the Death Watch and the Jedi High Council already sent new Jedi as support.

Sehun is flying the ship together with a cute droid, a R4-series droid he called “Vivi”. You are sitting next to him, feeling both too shy and awkward to start a conversation.

What are topics you can talk about with a Jedi? Hey, how is the Force doing? Still strong?

No, that’s definitely not something you want to say to Sehun.

“Relax, I’m not going to kidnap you” You almost jump when Sehun suddenly speaks up.

“I- I didn’t think that you would kidnap me” you say with a nervous laughter as you feel your cheeks heating up.

“To be honest, you looked like something scared the shit out of you. Are you sure that you’re okay?” Sehun asks with raised eyebrows.

Dammit, how can someone be this hot?

“Um yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry. Only a bit nervous” you try to not chew on your bottom lip from anxiousness.

What will it be, training to become a Jedi? Will the other Jedi like me? Will I find friends? How will my Master be like?

So many questions and no answers within the next hours….

~*~

“Sehun! It’s so good to see you again! How are you? Oh, is this the new potential Padawan?” an excited, young and tall man calls as he sees Sehun.

“Hey Chanyeol, it’s good to see you, too. I’m fine, only tired from the journey. This is Y/N, I will bring her to the Jedi High Council and we can talk afterwards.” Sehun says with a smile.

The smile suits him so well, way better than his resting bitch face (which already is beautiful), you think.

And that is also the first time you hear him say so many sentences at once.

“Hey Y/N, nice to meet you. I’m Chanyeol, also a Jedi Knight like Sehun is.” The tall Jedi shoots you a smile.

His smile must be contagious, you find yourself smiling back after merely a second. This man doesn’t seem to be able to be unhappy and that is something fascinating.

“I really love talking to you, you know, but now I need to bring Y/N to the Council. See you later” Sehun apologizes and mentions you to follow him.

And who are you to deny him, being in a strange and new building on your own isn’t something you want to experience just now.

It’s not much later that you arrive at the council room. There are many new faces, some are smiling encouragingly when others seem to be deep into their thoughts.

“Welcome back, Sehun. I hope your journey wasn’t too exhausting?” A man with a kind face says as he stands up from his seat in the middle.

“Master Suho, thank you for responding to our message so fast. The journey was okay, I guess. No major problems on the route.” Sehun answers as he bows before the man called Suho.

You quickly join Sehun with the bow, not exactly sure what else to do.

“You must be Y/N. Do you mind going with Master Xiumin so that he can test you again?” Suho asks with a small smile and points to a slightly small Jedi Master with a cute face.

The only thing you can think of doing now is to nod and follow the Jedi out of the room.

“And could you Sehun please stay here? We have to talk to you for a second” is the last thing you hear before the door closes again.

~*~

“Congratulations, Y/N. We will let you start your training as a Padawan to become a Jedi. Your new Master will be introduced to you soon” the Jedi Master who tested you, Master Xiumin, tells you and shakes your hand with a proud smile.

It feels like a weight just got lift off your shoulders. “Thank you so much, Master. I feel so honored, I won’t disappoint the High Jedi Council.”

“I know you won’t, you are more than qualified to be a Jedi and we all will watch your training with interest. But now, let’s go back to the Council so that they can tell you who will train you in the future. Usually, you start to train as a child in a group and later get your own Master, but I don’t think this will be necessary now. You don’t seem like you want to train with our eight-year-olds.” Xiumin explains with a small laugh.

He guides you back to the room, where the Jedi High Council is waiting for you.

Everyone seems to be so kind and positive here, it almost overwhelms you. Back in your village, there had always been a depressed and hurried mood. The whole village was afraid that one day they won’t be alive anymore, killed by the Death Watch.

Now, everything seems so surreal, children playing instead of hiding and adults having a casual talk on their way to a meeting.

You arrive at the room and greet the Jedi Masters, as well as Sehun, with a bow.

“Master Xiumin, which decision did you make for the council? Is Y/N qualified for the Jedi training?” Master Suho asks.

“Yes, I find Y/N qualified for the Jedi training. She will be a good Padawan, I think.” Xiumin replies.

“Then it’s decided. Y/N, you will be trained to be a Jedi and your Master will be Oh Sehun.”

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forkanna · 5 years ago

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NOTE: HAPPY NANOWRIMO! Sorry if my updates are more sporadic right now; I'm trying to focus on writing this month. That includes (minor spoiler) another Persona fic! I promise in December I will try to resume a more regular posting schedule.

Also: if you're enjoying this fic or any of my others, and you have disposable income, you can drop a few dollars in my tip jar! Every little bit helps! Anyway, happy reading!

CHAPTER NINE

~ x The Priestess x ~

Things settled down until Monday afternoon. Mostly, I hung out with my friends and tried to focus on my studies. And everything had been fine. There were other girls around the school I kept glancing at, trying to figure out my feelings, and I didn't feel any "lesbian stirrings" - if that's even a thing. Just looked like regular people. So I started to convince myself that it had been a fluke, and I only felt those urges because Miss Kawakami had been so sensual with me in the hotel room. Everything was going to be fine.

Then I saw her in the hallway again and it shot all of my hopes to hell.

"Good afternoon, Niijima-san," she said with a smile as she waved. And I felt my knees go weak, my heart speed up in my chest. She was completely back to her usual self: longsleeve yellow scoopneck, denim skirt, sensible white low-heels, fluffy brown hair. Armload of books and lesson plans. Tired-but-cheerful expression.

Just Miss Kawakami, being Miss Kawakami… but she still made me want to do things I had never done before. And wouldn't know how. Experiment with her.

"Niijima-san?"

"G-good morning," I managed to stutter.

"It's not morning," she chuckled. But she peered at my face for a moment. "You… should request me again."

"Huh?!" But when she held a finger to her lips, I quickly said, "Right. Sorry."

"You should. Because it looks like… you need to talk. But not here." Her eyes flicked from side to side, indicating the throng of students surrounding us.

"Of course. I'm sorry, I really… yes. I'll ask you about that homework later."

Her gorgeous mocha eyes did roll toward the ceiling at my poor attempt at covering, but at least she was still smiling. I wished she would always smile…

"Of course. Friday."

"Friday?"

"Or Saturday. I'll let you know if another time works equally well."

"OH!" She was trying to tell me her schedule. "Y-yes, I'll hand it in by then, if I don't have any questions sooner. Thank you."

When I bowed slightly, she patted my shoulder. "Good, good, Run along to class." Then she walked away…

And I did something I have never, ever done. For anybody, no matter who they were, or how attractive I might have found them - though I almost never notice that kind of thing. I turned to watch her leave. Not because I liked her and missed her, or because she was a decent role model. Those things were also true… but for some reason, I wanted to see her calves moving below the hem of that skirt.

The bell for class rang and I was still standing there, staring at the spot where her calves had last been. At least that finally prompted me to move again.

~ o ~

The rest of the week turned out to be my own personal Hell. Every time I saw Miss Kawakami, she looked better and better, and my thoughts were less pure. Maybe it was because I had never thought about anyone in this way that I fell so headlong into lust. Or maybe she was just exactly my type and I didn't know it before Hotel Juliet revealed all.

Dreams of her cleavage in that maid outfit when she crawled across the floor toward me, her stockings recently discarded, filled my nights. Or of her shapely thighs disappearing up her frilly French Victorian dress. Worse - disappearing up the hem of her robe as she writhed under my touch, panting my name with her eyes closed…

Recalling that also gave me another new experience: trying to focus in class while being aroused. I'm not kidding when I say that not once in my entire academic career had that been a stumbling block for me. Now, my thighs twitched, my face flushed, until a neighbouring student asked if I was feeling under the weather. That only made my blush worse.

When Thursday rolled around, I was at the end of my rope. I had basically called Ann in complete distress about six times in three days. She was great at talking me down, but had no real advice to give - which was okay. It would be kind of an insane convenience if she somehow knew exactly what to do about developing a lesbian crush on a teacher, wouldn't it?

"Look," she sighed into the phone as she did her nails, and I slowly tried to finish formatting a report. "She said you can request her tomorrow night, right? So just… don't worry about it until then. Forget about her totally. Like, since you can't do anything."

"That doesn't work. Believe me, I try."

"God, you're so cute. I know, I know - not helping."

"It isn't cute that I'm so smitten with a woman out of my reach that I can't eat, or sleep, or study. Those are basically the only things I do, Ann."

A little laugh floated over the phone lines. "Yeah. I mean, until you started hanging out with us, I'd believe it. Except maybe kissing Principal Kobayakawa's-"

"Don't even finish that sentence," I warned her, and she laughed more.

"Fiiiiine. And I'm gonna offer again; I know you don't wanna reveal her secret. But if you need me there, to mediate or whatever, like, call me. Swear I won't show up without you asking, but all you gotta do is call."

"And you'll be here. I know, and thank you. But this is something I should be able to do on my own."

"Why? You've got friends; use 'em."

I had been about to protest and tell her I didn't want to 'use' my friends… when I realised that I could. Not Ann; she was already being enough help as it was. But there was someone else I should be going to about this matter.

"Thanks, Ann," I said suddenly, sitting up and closing my textbook. "I think I have an idea. I'll call you back when I have put it into practice."

"Huh? O-oh, okay, bye. Good luck!"

"Thank you. I'm gonna need it."

~ o ~

Cafe Leblanc was basically closing up by the time I got there. Futaba Sakura was lingering at the counter, and the proprietor, Sojiro Sakura, was wiping down the counter. Ren was doing the dishes; sometimes the old man roped him into that, considering he was letting him stay in the attic rent-free.

"Hey," I greeted Futaba first. Not that I could see much of a reaction. Her huge glasses and orange hair covered most of her face and head, as if they were a protective shield from the rest of the world. Which was likely true; she's the biggest introvert I've ever known.

"Guten abend."

"Huh?"

"German." Pushing up her glasses, she peered up at me with those oddly mauve-tinted eyes. "You are here to see Ren."

"How do you know that?"

"Keep glancing at him. Not exactly rocket science - though rocket science is actually fairly simple and straightforward. Just gotta know the formulas."

Chuckling softly as I slid onto a stool at the bar, I said, "Uhhh, I'm going to have to take your word for it, I guess. But you're correct."

"He'll be free in a few minutes," her adoptive father said as he tossed the rag under the counter, then perched a cigarette just above his goatee. As he flicked the lighter, he said, "Can I get you anything, Niijima-san?"

"Oh, no thank you," I said with a slight bow. The cigarette smoke bothered me, but I would never dream of mentioning that. "You're already closing up; it would be rude."

"Nonsense. I've got some leftover curry ingredients in the fridge; you kids could go upstairs while I whip some up."

"You do not wanna miss his recipe," Futaba confided as she typed on her phone at lightspeed. The screen was flashing so fast I couldn't even keep up with what she was doing. "Mom's recipe. Their recipe."

"Huh?"

"Don't worry about it," her surrogate father chuckled good-naturedly as he puffed, turning back toward the kitchen. "Amamiya-kun. Take five and see your friend; I'm going to make you something."

"And I'll help," Futaba volunteered with a smile, pocketing her phone.

Ren nodded at him, barely glancing at me before drying off his hands and abandoning the dishes for now. Then he nodded toward the stairs and we went up together. Futaba made no move to abandon her place at Sojiro's side - proving that she really did accurately guess I wanted to talk to Ren alone. What a little genius.

Once upstairs in his cozy little loft, I dropped onto the old couch and wasted no time telling him everything. Ren eventually sank down beside me, expression slightly pained but mostly resigned. As if he knew this day would come, but couldn't be sure which friend - or maybe stranger - would approach him about it.

"So I know you've been having her run errands," I wrapped up with. "But she insisted that you aren't hurting her, and she isn't hurting you. I guess… I feel like I believe you, but I need to hear it. What is the nature of the relationship with Miss Kawakami?"

Guess I really do sound like you sometimes, Sae.

"We don't have one," he answered after a pause to mull over his words. "She's my homeroom teacher."

"And the maid stuff? You really do request her just to… what, give her free money?"

Another pause. "She does jobs for me. Makes curry, cleans up, does laundry. I pay her for the work. But I request her more often because I understand she needs the money; it's the only official way I can help her without…"

"Without?" I prompted.

"Without it being charity."

"Ohhh…" My eyes turned sad as I looked down at the floor. "Miss Kawakami wouldn't accept any handouts, probably. That makes sense." He nodded. "You're sure you've never… a 'health massage' or-"

"No."

"Would you want to?" At that, he looked a little uncomfortable. "Ren?"

"Maybe. But not that way; not because I paid her. It would feel like forcing her into it. And though Miss Kawakami is beautiful, I don't have strong feelings like that for her."

"All of that's very fair," I sighed, staring down at my plain black shoes. "That's how I felt, too; the 'forcing her' part, I mean." He made no reply, so I looked up at him. "You don't even care about… that part of this. That I might be attracted to her, even though I'm a girl." He shook his head. "Why not?"

His shoulders rose and fell. "That's your business."

"So simple for you," I chuckled softly, eyes sad. "But I feel like… a freak. A circus freak for seeing a woman old enough to be my mother in the hallway - well, almost old enough - and wanting to do things with her I've never even dreamed about before."

Ren's only response was to sit back a little, folding his arms and crossing one leg so the ankle rested on his knee. I watched him for a moment, squinting at his passive, thoughtful expression.

"What? What is it?"

"I may have somewhere you should visit. Come with me."

"Now? But it's so late - and we'll miss Sojiro's curry."

His smile was small and coy. "Very well. Curry and then come with me. It's important."

That word could not be ignored. He didn't just think this was a good idea, he thought it was "important"? And Ren was a fairly serious guy; he didn't just spout off things like that for no reason. I trusted him. Therefore, I nodded.

"Curry, and then I'll go with you. It's a promise." And we shook on it, like we were making a business deal.

~ o ~

Once our bellies were full of delicious curry, my taste buds still singing at the spices and mingling flavours, I hopped the train with him up to Shinjuku. That was a surprise; I didn't even know Ren knew anyone up that way, or ever went there. Maybe I didn't know him as well as I thought, but I opted to put my faith in him for the time being.

Within minutes, we were walking into a bar called "Crossroads". The place was pretty empty, except for a young woman with a pink fanny pack slumped over at the bar, and an older woman with an ornate kimono behind it cleaning glasses.

"You spend way too much time here, young man," she said - and my eyebrows shot up. That was a pretty deep voice. Was she… a he? A cross-dresser?

"Lala-san, this is my friend, Makoto Niijima. Makoto, this is Lala Escargot."

I bowed slightly, trying to hide my surprise from before. "It's a p-pleasure to meet you, Lala. Escargot… is French, right?"

"Sure, honey," she chuckled with a big grin. "French is so fancy. Why do you think I picked it?"

"Picked…?" I swallowed hard, then moved to sit at the bar in front of her. "Forgive me for asking something very forward. But are you… transgender, or a drag queen? I don't want to assume."

While Ren looked a little surprised, Lala grinned. "Just a queen, girl. When I ain't on the clock, this all comes off and I'm a regular run-of-the-mill man. Well… maybe not run-of-the-mill."

"No, I am sure you're very unique." Luckily, 'she' seemed to take that as a compliment. "Should I keep using female pronouns while you're Lala, then?"

"Yes, please." A little bow to show her gratitude, and I bowed back. "What brings ya taggin' along with this no-good louse?" Then she chuckled and hid her face behind an elegant white fan. "Just kidding, Amamiya-chan. You know me."

"Of course," he laughed with an easy smile. Not at all flustered or annoyed by her teasing.

"Well… I actually don't know." After a few seconds to consider, I just blurted out, "I think I might be gay."

"Oh yeah? Good for you, honey!"

"Thanks?" I laughed self-consciously. "But I have a feeling Ren thought it might be a good idea to talk to you about it. And maybe he's right; I really don't know what I'm doing, or feeling, or thinking, and… this isn't exactly my first contact with, um, 'the community', but none of my friends are gay. So I'm a little unsure of where to turn."

Her smirk was playful. "That you know of. I mean, just saying, Ren does hang out with a drag queen an awful lot for a straight boy."

"I work here, Lala," he sighed with a roll of his eyes. But she only laughed in response.

"But why here? Hmmmmm? So many after-school jobs, and here you are in Shinjuku. Just saying…"

Interrupting her further teasing, I asked, "So what do I do? How do I know? Especially because I have a crush on a teacher, not another student, so it's…"

"Ooooh, damn," she intonated, heavily-shaded eyes widening. "That is a pickle, sister. How old are ya?"

"Huh? Oh… eighteen."

"Awww, you're almost outta there. Just hang on and then ask her out when you're in college."

Drawing my knees together and folding my hands on the bartop, I whispered, "That's what Ann said. You make it sound so simple. I don't even know if what I'm feeling is real, or-"

"It's real."

Stunned by the firmness in her voice, I asked, "How can you be so sure?"

"If you're worried enough about it to follow your friend to some dive bar in Shinjuku, you're feeling real things, baby," she pressed with a sympathetic sigh. "Maybe you get a few years further along in life, and it turns out you ain't a lesbian, or maybe you are. But right now, for you, in this moment, you wanna be with a woman. Don't second-guess yourself or waste a lot of time thinking you're 'crazy'. Take Ohya there."

With a start, the other woman shot upright, eyes unfocused and sunglasses askew. "Huh? Wh-wha…? I'll pay my tab next week…"

"Poor thing was in love with this old colleague of hers," Lala went on as Ohya slumped back downward, clearly not even listening. "Completely oblivious until it was too late; she's still in denial about it. Now Kaya's out of her life and she ain't got nobody. Think she still likes men, but when's the last time I saw her on a serious date with any of 'em?"

My eyes widened. "Oh. She's a lesbian, too?"

"Bisexual," Lala corrected. "Probably, anyway."

"Right, right; like you said, she still dates men." I watched her snore for a few seconds, then cleared my throat. "I guess… it's different, meeting a woman who likes women in person. Not that I doubted their existence."

The drag queen shrugged as she poured me a tonic with lemon; something light and non-alcoholic, but still being courteous. "We get a lot of people like you wandering in. Girls or boys who ain't sure what they want outta life, or outta relationships. Some of these places around Shinjuku will really turn your brain upside-down if you let 'em, but… most of us just wanna help family."

"Family?" After a second of flashbacks to dead parents and my stubborn sister, I got it. "Right. That's me; I'm 'family' now. But what if I try dating a woman and decide I like men? Isn't that… wrong, somehow?"

"What's wrong with experimenting and figuring out what you like?"

"Well, when you put it that way… I feel stupid," I ended up saying, and she chuckled.

"Don't, honey. Nothin' stupid about not knowing where you wanna end up in life. Just take your time, figure it out. Come back here if you got questions; maybe Ichiko'll be sober enough to answer 'em next time."

"Hey, I'm not that drunk," the woman muttered without lifting her head or opening her eyes. "Sober enough to see Ren-kun brought another cutie with him. You're the drunk one, Lala-chan… not me."

Another cutie? Did she mean me?!

"You're the horizontal one," Lala mocked back, and Ohya did smile slightly. But she still didn't get up.

And now I found myself really looking at her. If I'm being brutally honest, I don't know why I had such a strong image in my mind that a woman who likes women would be some kind of freak. Probably had something to do with societal brainwashing. But here was this Ichiko, very normal other than the fact that she was drunk. Bobbed black hair, blue jeans and sneakers. Very pretty in the same way Miss Kawakami was pretty: a little older but taking good care of herself, other than the drinking which probably had the same amount of detrimental effect on her as the lack of sleep did on my teacher.

"Maybe," I breathed quietly to myself before taking a sip of the tonic water. It was actually pretty refreshing.

"What's that, honey?"

"Nothing, nevermind. Just thinking to myself."

"Questioning?"

For some reason, she was smirking at me again. I had the feeling her comment meant more to her than it did to me, but I decided not to ask about it. "Anyway, your friend looks like she's not getting up anytime soon, so maybe I should go. Thanks for this, Lala - and you, too, Ren. Helped me a lot more than I can be sure of just yet, I'm sure."

Ren nodded with a small smile as he took his place behind the bar. Lala came over to stand next to him. "Ohhhh, you're up for a shift, huh? Good, good. And let me know if you ever change your mind about me dressing you up."

Feeling second-hand embarrassment for Ren felt like reason enough to quickly and quietly take my leave. Besides, now I had an awful lot to think about.

To Be Continued…

#Queen Of Temperance #forkanna writes #persona 5 fanfiction #p5 fanfic #jess the writer #persona

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bigskydreaming · 6 years ago

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Just wanted to thank people again for their reblogs and donations, I will never be able to describe how I feel about the support - both tangible and emotional - that people on here have given me over the past three months in particular. Especially now that I have a definitive diagnosis and course of treatment to aim for, and an optimistic timeline of maybe even having the surgery within the next few months, at least before the summer....it really just depends there on whether my insurance approves that expense or how much of it, etc.

I still definitely could use continued help, though I’m trying my best to not rely on it as much as possible. Its just...yeah. We’ve kinda hit the point where its really just not possible period for me to make it where I need to get to without support. The slight downside to all the positive stuff I mentioned above is I’m a very goal oriented person. And this has been a very long and constant ordeal for me, where its been nothing but seven days of constant stress and pain a week, not able to rest or relax or take a day off working or searching for work for literally months and months. The only way I’ve managed to keep going is by fixating on some nebulous future point I had to reach and kinda use that to drag myself forward day by day. Its not nebulous anymore. I have answers, I have concrete needs and timelines and all that. But that also means now I have a very clear awareness that I can not make it the rest of the way with just the resources I already have myself.

It’s like...desperation energy, that’s fueled me to get this far and last this long, but there’s a difference between desperation and futility, and motivating myself with the thought ‘just hang in there long enough to get answers and solutions and FIX things’, like, it did what it needed to do, getting me in sight of all that, but it took pretty much everything I’ve got to use all that to tread water, to just stay afloat to get to this point. There’s just not enough there to stretch that out to continuing to stay afloat WHILE doing three times as much work on TOP of that. I know my capabilities and have a lot of self-respect for them, but I also know my limits and I can’t afford to waste everything it took to get to this point just so I can pretend I’m capable of more than I am. Because that’s the other downside of being in sight of the finish line, but still having it far enough away its not anywhere you’re gonna reach in just a few more steps.....like, lmao, I’m fucking tired. I want to rest. And I’ve gotten just enough good news after nothing but years of new rock bottoms that my brain and my body are trying to take that as a sign that its okay for me to just collapse now and take a breather. But I can’t really. Because I’m still not actually there yet.

So on that note, putting the link to my paypal up here nearer to the top for a change, for people who don’t actually need my long-windedness, lol.

https://paypal.me/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

And then on a related note, I just wanted to say again that I’m totally okay with and even eager for people to leave notes with their donation for any writing commission I can do in return. Again, this is totally MY issue, and not something I think should apply to all donation posts: expectations of a quid pro quo. People help out because they want to help out. As long as whatever information a donation post includes is sincere, however much or little that information is, I think that’s the only parameter that matters. People have different personal criteria for what motivates them to actually donate to a relative stranger on the internet. If someone donating to a person whose post is just a simple paragraph of need with no context for why or what their situation is, if that doesn’t make sense to you? It doesn’t have to. That’s not actually any kind of scam. Someone just wants to say, hey I need help and no, I don’t want to explain why? Sure, a lot of people might not feel inclined to donate but anyone who does, they’re not being scammed. Someone asked for x amount of help, someone else decided, hey I can provide this much help and I’m okay with doing that with no further context needed. The end.

Just wanted to clearly express my opinion there, before proceeding on: for ME, personally, I like a degree of quid pro quo for the help people give me, because that’s something that works for my situation. I don’t LIKE not being able to work as much as I want to, because thing is, I have been fortunate enough to make careers out of work that I actually enjoy. My income over the last ten years has almost completely stemmed from acting, writing and graphic design, all things I enjoy. LOL I rant endlessly about how much I hate capitalism, and its true....but I don’t hate doing things I love. Obviously for the past year I haven’t been able to do any acting jobs cuz of my health conditions, and my writing and graphic design work has been unreliable for the last several months for a variety of reasons.

The major way my health stuff (and related mental health stuff) has impacted me is not even with actual work, but finding new work. My headaches and chronic pain have lessened how many hours I’m able to be focused on work, but not so much that I can’t do what I need to get done when I have a clear objective and goal to focus on. It’s when that’s done and I have nothing else to work on and haven’t made the money I need yet. When I try to power through several hours a day of headaches/pain in search of new jobs as my lack of results amps up my stress and aggravates my health stuff even further....that’s what really makes days suck. And because of my mobility issues with vertigo and not being able to drive and all that, going out and getting a non-internet based job just flat out isn’t possible for me at the moment.

So I’m really starting to feel hopeful again that there actually IS an end point to all this and it might be soon even...and then I can get back to business as usual and build new client bases same as I did before, even get back to acting (omggggggg I miss it). But until that happens, as long as I still need to ask people for help and financial support, like, PLEASE do not feel like you’re imposing on me by suggesting something I can write in return, especially if you’re someone who’s been donating to me regularly. Or if you follow me in part because you enjoy my writing and my headcanons and fics and such. It’s not a chore, its something to do that I CAN do, that I LIKE doing, that I WANT to do. It actually helps make all of this more bearable, because like I said....writing and graphic design as my sources of income...they don’t feel like work. I ENJOY doing them. They actually get my mind off my issues, they give me a reason to get up in the morning, they make me feel productive, like I’m actually doing something with my life instead of just existing, and going through the motions day by day just to survive.

So if you make a donation and you can think of something you’d enjoy seeing from me, please don’t hesitate. All I ask is that you understand that I’m not in a place to make guarantees at the moment, but when and where I can devote my time and energy to a direction you’ve pointed me in with your donation, I’m happy to, and hopefully that might result in something sooner rather than later. And eventually, if all goes well, I will get to a point (quite honestly a better place than I’ve been physically AND mentally in years) where I CAN be better about staying true to my intentions.

For now, just a rundown of things I have been writing for people who did make requests (though most of them are friends whose names I recognized and I hunted down and badgered into telling me what they’d like so I could do this, lmao. There were definite GDI WHAT DOES IT TAKE FOR ME TO MAKE YOU TELL ME WHAT I CAN DO FOR YOU convos being had, lolol I’m such a well adjusted person, honestly how do I stand it, science may never know).

Anyway, for anyone interested, the current slate of ‘commissions’ I’ve been working on, just so there’s no need to make a duplicate request:

Lightning Crashes Update - LOL a long awaited update to that beast. Its a 3 POV chapter, Kira, Liam and then Allison, and came out to around 10K. It’s done and just needs a final read through and polish, which I’ll do literally as soon as I manage to finish paying my insurance for the month and get caught up with what I owe my motel. Which means in the next couple of days for sure, if for no other reason then I like....have to make sure to pay those things by then one way or another lmao. But point being, for anyone still invested in that fic or interested in reading more, since its been so long and you’ll probably have to reread the existing chapters to refresh your memory, I think its pretty safe to go ahead and do that whenever, and the new chapter will happen somewhere in the next few days.

As to the rest of the fic after that - this is one of three fanfics that I’ve always sworn I really want to finish someday no matter what, and that remains true. The clusterfuck TW fandom became for me really hurt my ability to write that story the way I originally wanted to, mostly because I didn’t want my resentment of Stiles to affect how I wrote his necessary part of the plot, and by the time there was enough emotional distance between me and the show/fandom to write it again, like....all this happened, lol. So I do think once my health issues are resolved and I’m settled in an actual permanent place, I’ll FINALLY be able to resume it. There’s like, a couple hundred thousand words worth of unposted story already written there, lmao, its just I outline and then write nonlinearly, so most of all that just doesn’t work without me finally writing the bridge chapters that pull it all together.

Born Under a Bad Sign Update - Same thing pretty much, as this is one of the other Big Three fics I’ve always wanted to finish. Largely because its got a sequel that’s already written in full, lmao. The sequel is my YJ version of Under the Red Hood, but builds on the plotline I always had in mind for BUABS. The sequel was just easier for me to write first because it wasn’t as personal. BUABS doesn’t have as much pre-written as LC, but its not nearly as long either, and it has always been totally outlined and with a lot of dialogue for later chapters pre-written. Anyway, this is what I’d like to post after the LC update. It’s not finished, but its also not as long as the LC one. It’s a Roy chapter, and doesn’t have a time break but while writing it I’ve split it into two parts just for my own purposes. The first is Roy and Ollie confronting Catalina, the second is Roy and Ollie talking about their own shit in light of that. For this one, the first part is written, the second has the dialogue written but the rest needs fleshing out. It wont take that long to finish, its really just a day or at most two days of writing. When that’s done just depends on when I can next devote time to it.

Untitled X-Men One Shot - Someone asked if I’d write something about Scott and Bobby’s friendship and some kind of reunion between them after Scott’s return from the dead. I will of course be ignoring AoX completely, lmao. This one’s mostly done, its like 10K lmao (look those two had a LOT to talk about okay), but the last couple thousand words of that is all just dialogue I needed to get down before I had to focus on other stuff. So everything I need is all there, I just need to return to it to finish fleshing out the last quarter or so of it.

Untitled Dick and Jason One Shot - Someone else asked me to write something with just Dick and Jason interacting, set in the comic book universe. I’m going with a blend of pre-nu52 and a little bit of nu52 for the setting, pretty much ignoring Rebirth etc, because a) I think the Rebirth reboot mostly sucked and b) I really don’t know much about post Rebirth continuity cuz I’ve read so little of it cuz what I have read I think mostly sucks. This one is basically Dick and Jason finally airing out their shit and all the things I’ve long wanted them to say to each other and know about each other, so they can try and build an actual functioning relationship as brothers. Its got all the dialogue written, but not much else. The dialogue’s really the only framework I need to build a one-shot, so it won’t be hard to write around it, its again just more about when and where I get the time to do that. It will be Jason POV, as in canon its usually Dick reaching out (to whatever degree) and Jason not trusting his sincerity. So the angle I’m going with is this one shot’s about Jason realizing he doesn’t know his brother as well as he thought, and that if he’s always trying to get the family to accept he’s not the same person he was before, like....the same can be true for Dick. Neither of them are the people they were back then, so the reasons they weren’t close aren’t actually reasons they can’t be close now. And what Jason thinks are Dick’s issue with him might not actually be what Dick actually has a problem with.

Original Superhero Novella - This is likely the last of these things to be finished as its the longest and thus more on the backburner, like just writing 1 or 2K at a time on it. This one’s the request of a friend who knows enough about my original superhero universe (I call it the Ellis Eighteen universe) to know who she wanted to read about specifically. Which - not surprisingly, given that Batfamily is one of our shared fandoms - is my version of a Batfamily. Only not really, because lol I don’t like being derivative or writing analogs of existing characters aka I must be the specialest snowflake ever. So its more like I was like ugh I love the Batfamily but hate how rarely DC lets them like, GET ALONG, oh hey, I’m gonna shove all my resentment from that into making up my own dysfunctional blended family of superheroes who actually love each other even if they’re bad at saying so. Plus superpowers.

So their concept is there’s a C-List supervillain named Murphy, as in Murphy’s Law. He has low grade probability powers. Basically he makes it so anything that can go wrong will go wrong in a designated area. He doesn’t have any control over how that manifests, but he’s great for diversions, so he gets hired for a heist by some big name supervillains to just create mayhem while they do the actual work elsewhere. Except Murphy discovers the corporation they’re stealing from donates a lot to children’s charities and is heavily involved with ‘supporting’ the foster care system...as a means to seek out superpowered children who end up in the system, and exploit them for their powers. And while looking for the best place/way to make a diversion, Murphy stumbles across evidence of this, as well as four boys on site in advance of them being sent to a home specially intended to raise the boys to feel indebted to their benefactors and eager to do whatever they want them to.

Which doesn’t work for Murphy at all, because he’s not so much a bad guy as someone who ended up a criminal due to circumstances and desperation and from there just never found a reason to stop. This though, he’s not okay looking the other way, so he says screw this company and screw the guys who hired me, and he breaks out the boys and they go on the run, keeping anyone from getting their hands on them and moving from place to place while he tries to provide as much stability as he can, let them grow up and decide for themselves what they want to be.

Eventually though, the two oldest, Misfire and Crossfire (I call them the Fire brothers because even though they’re all biologically unrelated, they each have powers that lend themselves to picking the codenames Misfire, Crossfire, Ceasefire and Backfire). So anyway, after a couple years of this, Misfire and Crossfire end up sneaking out to be vigilantes. And Murphy catches them of course and is like wtf are you thinking, do you know how dangerous that is? What if you get hurt? What if they (asshole corporation) find you?

Only it turns out, they just wanted to be like their dad. Which Murphy doesn’t really know what to do with, cuz he never talks about his past with the boys. Because he’s ashamed of it, doesn’t want them to think of him as a villain. Which they don’t of course. He’s the one who rescued them, who gave up whatever his life was before to make it all about protecting them and always doing what was best for them. To the boys, Murphy’s always been their personal hero, so they kind of took it for granted....that’s what he was. Murphy was never a big name player, and they’ve always assumed that he was just some masked hero or vigilante who retired when he took them in so his old enemies wouldn’t come after them too.

So basically its a found/adopted family where the boys grow up to be heroes, thanks to the values and role model their father provided without ever having a clue how they really saw him, due to his own insecurities. And then it backdoors into Murphy eventually becoming a hero as well as its the only way he knows to keep making sure he’s there to look out for them, as well as like....he’s inspired by his kids, who in turn were inspired by him. He wants to be the man they see him as, live up to that image of him, not realizing that like, he always already was that man. That image of him is based on his actions, the way he raised them. So in reality, its not even that he’s inspired to heroism by the example his kids set, its more a gradual embrace of the role he’d always played for as long as they knew him, no matter how he personally had seen it (and himself).

And because I’m me, they end up making it the family business, with the older two boys and their dad working together to expose and topple companies engaged in exploitative practices, while the younger two ignore all orders to stay home and always stow away to make sure they’re part of the action. Like.....its the Batfamily with superpowers meets Leverage, if the Robins came first and Bruce only became Batman to be their partner and have their backs. And also he used to be a crook which is still way better than a billionaire. So, that’s that on that.

So that’s the slowest of the current slate, its at about 18K of a projected 30K, with this particular story being set after Murphy and the two oldest are already established as vigilantes. Murphy’s in his forties, Misfire’s 21, Crossfire’s 18, Ceasefire’s 16 and Backfire’s 14.

I’m open to writing pretty much anything I’ve ever talked about fandom wise, and that you know is something I’m familiar with. If for whatever reason a request is something I’m not open to writing or I’m not familiar enough with to write, I’ll just make a post about it and you can hop on anon and either clarify or ask for something else. And its okay to ask on anon ahead of time if I’d be open to something.

Anyway, on that note, I’m all done here, thanks again for everything!!!

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minnie-marvel · 6 years ago

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Operation Juliet (Peter Parker x Reader) Part 3 [finale]

You’ve been head over heels for Peter Parker for almost a year hiding your feelings behind love letters that you never thought would reach him. When your best friend slips one into your locker, you give up on hiding your letters from Peter and begin to slip them into his locker on a daily basis. Peter is through with not knowing who you are so he and Ned finally decide to engage in a proper investigation to figure out your identity!

Peter Parker x Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Words:

A/N:Finally!! The curtain comes to a close on this romantic sap of a fic!! I’m so glad you all enjoyed this piece it was honestly a freaking delight to create this. Like writing love letters is so fun and sweet If only i had someone to write some to hahaha

Before we go on although I’d like to bring your attention to this MASTERPIECE @seven-magic-sins drew for this fic!!! PLEASE CHECK OUT THEIR ART WHAT THEY DID WAS SUPER SWEET AND THEY DESERVE ALL THE LOVE!!!!

(BTW if anyone makes fanart for my fics you bet your sweet ass I’ll be featuring it in my works!!! It’s too thoughtful to ignore!!! As long as it’s PG I’ll be putting it on the next update of said fic!!!)

Now then, let’s get to the good stuff shall we?

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His breathing stopped, his heart froze, his eyes locked onto your notebook where your name was written in a perfectly adorable script that he had only seen once before.

“Thanks!!” you chirped innocently as Peter handed you your notebook trying to keep himself from bursting into flames at the mere sight of you. He didn’t meet your eyes for a moment as he mumbled a quick “no problem” to you. When he was finally able to peel his gaze back from the floor, he nearly fell over again. He was stunned at how cool and collective you were being, despite your underlying romantic demeanor. You were the girl he was looking for, his Juliet.

Unfortunately for you, you were about as oblivious as Peter, and didn’t notice his obvious ogling over you. Or maybe you were just completely thrown off due to the fact that Peter was actually talking to you in the first place?

Peter’s brain felt clogged with all of the incoming messages his heart was seemingly telling him. It was screaming that he was an idiot, a dork and super lame for not being able to come up with anything to say for at least three minutes. You both were left in a very awkward silence, neither of you being able to believe that you were actually talking to the other person.

“So uh… my friend said she talked to you about Spiderman today!” You felt your voice crack again. Godamnit. He had to take a moment to think back to who you could possibly be talking about. Was it a girl? Or worse, maybe a boy? That’s when the realization struck him like a brick to the head.

“Oh yeah!! The girl on track.. what was her name?? Sorry, I’m like… really bad with those.” He said quickly. You shook your head happy that you had gotten a conversation flowing. “Eve!” you answered. You weren’t going to tell him that she was essentially your distraction, but it wasn’t like you had to anymore, Peter had soon pieced together your little plan to throw him off.

He felt his brain slap himself. Oh, you were good, too good.

“Right…” he said softly. “You know Y/N, I never really see you around school! Where are you always hiding?” he gave a soft laugh that sent your heart sky high. Ah yes, that was why you were in love with him. It wasn’t that you had forgotten, but seeing Peter being so adorable in person seemed to make you fall all over again.

You blushed realizing you had let a second or two fly by before responding due to you swooning over him internally. “Oh well, I’m not exactly in your classes, I’m just a grade below you but…there’s always passing!!” You said quickly to make up for the lost time. You felt embarrassment sink in your chest. You really hoped he didn’t suddenly see you as some squabbling infant in comparison to him.

“That makes sense…” He said a little too thoughtfully for your taste. Oh god, why was he saying it like that?? Were you drooling?? You were probably drooling. You wiped your mouth slightly despite no saliva being present. “It’s too bad, it would be cool to see you around more often, you’re a pretty sweet person!”

911? Yes, you’d like to report a homicide. This boy had practically shot you in the heart.

You started to giggle like an idiot. “N-no not really..!!” you said trying to look away from him. Peter couldn’t help but give a laugh as well. Boy, if you were this bashful over a small compliment, who knew what you would do if he actually told you how he thought you were a literal angel sent from heaven that he didn’t know he deserved.

You felt the train slowly pull to a stop and felt your heart tear slightly as Peter started to move. “This is me,” He said sadly himself. He wanted to tell you he knew you, so badly. Not that he had known you from your first day of school when you dropped your books all over the floor just as you did a few minutes ago. He wanted to tell you that he knew you and everything that your heart wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell you that his heart wanted to speak to yours too.

“Bye Peter!” You waved to him as he took a step off the bus. He gave you a smile that made you want to faint before walking off into the distance while the train pulled off again. Peter pulled his phone out almost immediately texting Ned.

‘Ned. Emergency. I know who Juliet is.’ --- Ned had met Peter at his apartment as soon as he could. Overwatch would have to wait, it wasn’t every day he and Peter had a cute girl pinning after one of them.

“Oh!! Y/N!” Ned said stroking his chin as he spun in Peter’s chair. “I see her a lot in the library,” he thought allowed. “She’s super quiet though I’ve never even heard her speak before…” his hand dropped to his side in disbelief. “I can’t believe she of all people is… Juliet.” He shrugged.

“What?? Dude, she’s like perfect come on!!!” Peter shouted.

“No, no, bro I’m not saying she’s not perfect!! I just didn’t think it would be her,” Ned said. He stood still for a moment before turning fully to him. “How are you gonna tell her Pete?”

Peter pursed his lips. “Well, there’s only one thing I can do,” He said simply. --- You hummed softly to yourself, you were having a fantastic day. You had gotten an A on your math test which you were convinced that you had failed (math and science was never your strong suits). You had finished one of your reading assignments freeing your weekend up, and on top of all that, yesterday’s conversation with Peter still left you feeling on top of the world.

The last bell of the day had rung and your felt your excitement grow. The weekend was here and you were free to do whatever you pleased. You opened up your locker to pack up your things for the weekend when you felt something tap your feet. Your eyes naturally glanced at the floor and you felt your chest clench.

There was a small envelope lying at your feet with your name written on its front.

You swept it into your hands almost immediately, fearful that it might disappear if you didn’t pick it up quick enough. Your fingers trembled as they slowly tore through the paper revealing a letter inside. You felt your skin shake as you read.

To the silently sweet Y/N, who writes from afar,

Okay, first off, I know this is super cheesy and a dumb attempt to try and copy what you’ve mastered. What you’ve created for the past month is not something as simple as letters Y/N; it’s an art. I’m an idiot for not realizing sooner. You’d think someone who’s gained a full-time internship to Stark labs would have known better. Enough about me although, I’m sure you’ve had enough letters about me in your hands long enough. It’s time for me to finally return your favor. If you are as loving, intelligent, and beautiful as Juliet, am I even worthy to be your Romeo? I’ve never been one to be very confident, but I think I’d do a better job than a Montague of being your one true love. That is if you’d still want to love a dork like me who couldn’t figure you out till now. Your letters have created a change in me; they’ve started a fire in my heart that I can’t control any longer. At first, it was a spark, then a steady flame, and now Y/N? Well, I don’t even think a typhoon could smother out the wildfire that explodes when I think about how perfect you are, and how I don’t deserve you. There’s so much more I want to tell you, but I think you deserve a better explanation than a letter that’s practically a steaming pile of crap in comparison to your masterpieces. Will you let me explain? I hope you will Y/N.

Signed,

Your hopelessly romantic Romeo

Peter

You knew this was good news. Hell, this was AMAZING news! But you couldn’t help but shake when you lifted your eyes from the paper. When you did, your world seemed to stop in motion and everything froze.

Peter stood only a couple of feet away from you, watching you read the letter with the goofiest most adorable smile that you thought you could even see on this planet. Your hands dropped to your side as he took a couple of steps closer to you. Your face was about as red as the color on his spidey suit at this point. You couldn’t help but look down in embarrassment.

“Hey, hey!!” Peter chuckled taking you gently by the shoulders when he saw your frown. “What’s wrong D-did I do a bad job??” He saw your tears drop onto your shoes and bit his lip pulling you into a quick embrace. “Y/N…?” He asked feeling his heart jump, stop and burn all at once.

“I didn’t think you’d ever find me…” You whispered the tears hot on your cheeks. “Yeah,” Peter tried not to laugh. “I’m sorry it took so long, you’d think a so-called genius could have pieced it together sooner right?” He tapped his forehead against yours and you finally got the courage to look at him. You thought that his eyes were warm enough to melt a block of ice.

“It’s not that…” you smiled softly. “I didn’t think you’d necessarily want to find me…” you explained. “I mean I’m not that noticeable, I’m quiet, I can’t even speak to you without having a mini heart attack,”

“Y/N, I don’t care about any of that,” He answered taking a strand of your hair pushing it behind your ear. “You’re shyness, your quietness, it’s all in our personality and I wouldn’t change a thing about it.” He smiled his hands sliding from your back to your hands. “I meant everything I said in those letters Y/N, I don’t want you to just be my Juliet.” Your heart nearly stopped and your eyes searched his fearful of his next response. “ I want you to be my Y/N, totally and completely with every quirk that you have.”

He took a moment to laugh to himself. “And let’s not forget that I’m no angel either, I think I’m about as awkward as they come,” You sighed softly letting your head rest on his chest now. Your heart was a glow and your spirits were so high you thought that it could reach satellites. Everything felt perfect, for a moment you expected credits to roll.

“So,” Peter said drawing you out of your thoughts. “How do you feel about Thai?” He said wrapping one arm around you as you walked together down the hall. You felt your hand touch his as you looked up at him. “I think that sounds good,” You smiled. Ned and Eve passed you both by casually as you walked and exchanged knowing glances. They gave each other high fives before calling out to you.

“Hey, Romeo and Juliet!!” Eve snorted nudging Ned’s side. “Get a room you too!” Ned smirked.

You couldn’t help but smile. You looked down at the letter in your other hand again blushing slightly. “Hey, Peter?”

“Hmm?”

“Did my letters make you this flustered?” You asked still showing him the letter. Peter laughed loudly having to stop mid-walk altogether in order to compose himself again. He turned to you his cheeks rosy from laughter and his feelings for you.

“Y/N, you have no idea,”

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Operation Juliet Tag

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kiliblast · 2 years ago

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Tomato timer effect

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However, the pleasant ticking of my trusty tomato served as a gentle reminder of the task-at-hand and it took me just 2 and a half Pomodoros to welcome inbox zero. This is something that has the potential to distract me for hours, as emails I’ve ignored for a week suddenly become transformed into unmissable updates and I fall down the rabbit-hole of clickbait links. Raring to go I set the timer for 25 minutes and embarked on my usual Monday morning routine of sorting through my inbox. It reminded me of summers in Italy, marinara sauce, pizza, my great-grandma’s kitchen… all wonderful things – and one should never underestimate the power of positivity on a Monday morning! Not only was I super excited to get started with the experiment, but every time I even looked at the retro little gadget on my desk I got a little jolt of joy. For this reason, I decided to start with the OG red tomato kitchen timer.Īrmed with my brand new shiny tomato timer I was buzzing with enthusiasm. I was attracted to the method not only for the many successful Pomodoro proponents (and connotations of delicious Italian cuisine!) but I also liked the idea of using the physical timer as a tangible reminder of the task at hand. Turns out this is actually a common technique also known as reward motivation! But is it the most sophisticated or efficient? In a world where there’s an endless array of science-based hacks to pick and choose from, I thought it was about time to start personalizing my productivity. I’ll often block in “boring” work first thing to get it out of the way. How do I solve that one? Well, I run up the stairs so the pain of climbing them is over sooner. I live in an attic apartment with no elevator. I’ll frequently start my runs on the incline, saving the downhill treat until the end. I actually grew up to be vegan, so I no longer need an incentive to eat my greens, but it’s paid dividends in helping me complete unpleasant tasks. My other fail-safe? Something I developed in childhood called the “Eat Your Vegetables First” Method, which involves getting the most dreaded tasks done first so you can enjoy the delicious enjoyable work later on. I’m a big fan of calendar blocking and use it to schedule everything from work to social events, and even household chores. And if the inspiration didn’t hit? Well the waiting was just part of the process, right?Īs the years passed I developed a couple of techniques to help me stay organized and get the work done. As an art student, I would routinely work on projects all night, barely noticing the hours as they passed. Until recently, I’d just wait for that hyperfocus to come to me when I was working on the right project – it just seemed like a kind of magic that would arrive out of nowhere. I get excited about certain tasks and have to force myself to complete more mundane ones. But app testing is not quite as fun as dining out, so here are 5 different Pomodoro recipes, tried, tested, and ready for your consumption…Īs a creative, I sometimes struggle with prioritization and knowing where to spend my time. So, as with pizza and pasta, the only way to find the very best is by sampling many.

Tomato timer effect how to#

But for a seemingly simple time-management system, there are an overwhelming number of tomatoey tools and a huge amount of conflicting information on how to Pomo successfully. We already know that many of our users swear by the productivity power couple of Freedom sessions combined with the Pomodoro technique, and we happen to think you’re a pretty productive bunch. According to the official website, this gives your brain time to assimilate new information and rest before the next round of Pomodoros. Every 4 Pomodoro sessions, you should take a longer break of 20–30 minutes. When the time is up, take a short break of around 5 minutes, and repeat the process until you’ve finished. Like almost all good ideas, it’s super simple – choose a task you’d like to get done, set a timer for 25 minutes, and dedicate those 25 minutes solely to working on that task only. For the uninitiated, Pomodoro is a time management method developed 30 years ago by Francesco Cirillo (catchphrase – work smarter, not harder) when he was a university student. If you’ve been anywhere near an office, a successful person, or Freedom’s twitter feed, chances are you’ve heard of the Pomodoro Technique.

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licensed-fan-girl · 2 years ago

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Pride and Perception - ch. 13

Hello, lovely readers! If you're still here after yet another prolonged hiatus that came without warning, you have truly earned stars in your crown because wowee it has been so long since I updated this fic! I am finishing up my Master's Thesis in library science over the next three weeks, and then I start working in October! I'm not going to make any promises about a regular posting schedule this time because I have no idea how busy I'll be in the upcoming months, but I can promise that I have not abandoned this fic, and I will be working on it as often as I can! So if you've stuck with me this long, if you've interacted in any way with this fic (especially in the last several months), this chapter is dedicated especially to you. Thank you for being here.

Read this story on my ao3!

Masterlist chapter 12 chapter 13 chapter 14

summary: James Barnes was the mob king of Brooklyn. Everything he wanted, he got, and anyone standing in his way was eliminated, but there was never enough evidence left behind to really convict him. He was not one to be trifled with and everybody knew it. Eveline Stone had only been the boss of Queens for six years, but that was more than enough time to know a bad deal when she saw one. If Barnes thought he could come in and buy her city or take it by force, he had another thing coming. He was the most infuriating man she’d ever met, but he was also probably the only person in New York who could help her find who she was looking for.

paring: Mob!Bucky x Mob!oc: Eveline Stone (can be read like a reader insert)

chapter warnings: interrogation (no violence), mentions of hostages, language

word count: 5,412

Thanks for Reading!

Directly following the interrogation, Bucky had gone back up to his office and sent out an email to the general managers of his hotels to warn them about the arson threat. He didn’t want to give them too much information — they had yet to determine the identity of the employee responsible for giving Rumlow the tip off — but he did include a rough description of Rumlow, the men who’d disappeared with him, and the two men they’d just interrogated. The email also included detailed instructions on how to perform a thorough search of the building and told his managers to be expecting a related email from Pepper within the next 48 hours of any suspicious patrons whose belongings should be searched.

He stayed seated at his desk for a moment after hitting send, as something Eveline had said to him from her hospital bed came back to him: It wasn’t that I lacked faith in your men, Bucky, only that I had greater faith in Brock’s manipulation. Looking back through the past month in which he’d known Eveline, Bucky could see all the ways her connection to Rumlow had affected her interactions with the world. Her fierce protection of her friends and family, her unwillingness to share anything personal, even her initial aversion to a simple meeting with him, all spoke to her history with broken trust. He mentally kicked himself for not seeing it sooner, but then again, he supposed Eveline hadn’t wanted him to see it. It made him all the more grateful for the renewing and rebuilding of their trust in each other.

That last thought reminded him that their now daily lunch plans had been interrupted by this interrogation. He quickly pulled out his phone and shot her a text.

Bucky: Hey did you ever get lunch?

Eveline: No, but I’m starved.

Bucky: Me too! You wanna grab something?

Even though this meal was one they shared nearly every day, nerves kicked his heart into overdrive as he sent the text.

Eveline: I’m with Lili for lunch today

Bucky’s heart dropped a little at her admission.

Eveline: but you’d be welcome to join us! Lili would love to see you too!

And just like that, it was back to skipping every other beat. Bucky shook his head. He couldn’t believe how worked up he allowed himself to get over this. It was just lunch, and yet, he couldn’t curb his smile as he quickly typed out a reply.

Bucky: Great! I’ll head that way!

Eveline: Perfect! We’re in the living room.

Without wasting another second, Bucky left his office. He walked through the familiar halls towards his home and did his best to calm his pounding heart. As he had several times since knowing Eveline, Bucky reminded himself that he was a powerful and dangerous man who did not get flustered over a woman, but the butterflies in his stomach paid him no mind. His thoughts continued to betray him the rest of the way to the living floor of the townhome, but the moment he entered the room to find Lili and Eveline — who had changed back into her comfy clothes — playing a game of go fish over a plate of chicken nuggets, his nerves evaporated. An overwhelming sense of right flooded his body at the sight of them so at home in his space.

“You better not be cheating again,” Lili accused with her best attempt at an intimidating glare.

Eveline gasped dramatically, holding her hand up over her heart. “I would never!”

Lili rolled her eyes at her mother’s tone and Bucky chuckled softly, drawing the young girl’s attention. As her eyes landed on him, they lit up, and Bucky felt his heart squeeze at the sight. She quickly set her cards face down on the coffee table, pointed her two fingers towards her own eyes and then at Eveline’s, before quickly making her way across the room to him, and Bucky swept the nine-year-old up into his arms.

“Bucky!” she cried as he swung her around.

“Hey, princess,” Bucky replied into her hair. He met Eveline’s gaze over Lili’s shoulder, and her subtle, pleased smile nearly knocked him over. Her gentle grin widened to make room for her amused chuckle as Lili struggled to wrap her small legs all the way around Bucky’s torso, kicking him in the ribs in the process. Bucky felt his heart expand in his chest when Lili pulled her head up off his shoulder and began telling him about how the first half of her school day had been as he made his way over to where Eveline had moved from the floor to the couch and sat down next to her all while trying to focus on what Lili was saying to him — a task which became increasingly difficult the longer Eveline kept looking at him like that. When Lili called his name exasperatedly, as if she had called him multiple times already, and Eveline laughed at him, Bucky shook his head and forced himself to give his undivided attention to Lili.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. What did you say?”

Lili rolled her eyes and joined her mother in laughing at his expense. “I asked if you want to play go fish with us?” And no idea had ever sounded better to Bucky’s ears.

“I would be honored,” he replied with a dramatic bow of his head. She giggled and clapped her hands, and Bucky headed to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich before rejoining them on the floor around the coffee table.

They played a few games, most of which Lili won, and laughed and enjoyed each other’s company. Bucky did his best to memorize the way this moment felt: to be relaxing with these two girls who had come to mean so much to him, to be a normal man for an afternoon spent relaxing with family. He knew it was not an afternoon that would last forever, and after a few more games of go fish, Lili declared she was going to go play outside in the yard and instructed them sternly not to follow her. She gave Bucky a big, over-the-top wink, and headed for the door.

Eveline was chuckling to herself when Bucky came back into the living room after taking their dishes to the kitchen sink. “What on earth was that about?” she asked incredulously.

Bucky sat down beside her on the couch with a noncommittal shrug, refusing to give away Lili’s secret surprise.

Seeing right through his poorly hidden smile, Eveline narrowed her eyes at him accusingly. “You’re up to something,” she said. “I don’t know what she’s put you up to, but you should know I see everything,” she finished, copying Lili’s ‘I’m watching you’ motion from earlier, and Bucky laughed.

“She is something else,” he crooned, his gaze looking out the window where Lili was just out of sight, having gone down the steps of the fire escape to reach the side yard below. Suddenly, a memory from the meeting Eveline had missed flashed through Bucky’s mind: Whether or not he knows of Lili’s presence remains uncertain, Nat had said. His expression must have turned as grim as his thoughts, because Eveline leaned closer to him with concern.

“What is it, Bucky?”

He sighed deeply through his nose and relaxed his face slightly. “Does Rumlow know about her?” he asked darkly.

Eveline sat back, her expression sobering. “She’s not his, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Bucky flinched at the hurt in her tone. “Forgive me. I didn’t phrase that very well. Lili’s father is not my concern. Nat pointed out in our meeting a few weeks ago that Rumlow knows you’re in Brooklyn, but we have no clue if he know’s Lili’s here too.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes, and she nodded in thought. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he knows she exists. In fact, he probably does, given his connections, but,” she shrugged, her eyes pinned to the floor. “I’m not sure how much he knows regarding Lili’s presence here. I mean, it’s not like we went to any great lengths to keep her hidden away.” When Eveline met his eyes again, their earlier playfulness was completely gone. “If Rumlow wants to know where she is, he won’t have any trouble finding out.”

Bucky nodded, his mind puzzling. “The thing about this case that still completely confuses me is Pierce’s potential role in the whole thing.” Eveline hummed her agreement, her brow furrowed in thought. “I think Oliver’s death points pretty clearly to Pierce. I don’t know how familiar you are with his… style of discipline, but Oliver’s murder matches a string of others Pierce has doled out over the years.”

“What did you do with Kingston and Desmond?” she asked after a moment.

Bucky bristled at the mention of their names. “Just left them there, for now. Haven’t decided how their end will come to them yet.” Realizing how dark that sentence was, he expected to find fear or disgust in her face, but when he looked back, the only emotion on Eveline’s face was satisfaction. “And Tony kept the cameras running, so we’ll hear anything they say between now and then.”

As Eveline nodded, she went to reposition herself and hissed, reaching for her hip. All thoughts of the case suddenly left Bucky’s mind, replaced with a deep concern for her recovery. “How has PT been going this week?” he asked hesitantly.

She stretched her legs out in front of her and groaned a little. “It’s going fine,” she said quietly, continuing to stretch her lower limbs. “The progress has slowed down these last few days, but I’ll keep at it.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Bucky replied, resisting the urge to reach out and lift her chin so she’d meet his worried stare. “Are you getting enough rest?”

Sitting back against the couch, she huffed a sigh at him. “I’m sleeping fine, mom, are you and Natasha in cahoots again?” She asked the question in a playful tone of voice, but there was a genuine accusation in her eyes.

“I just want to be sure you’re taking care of yourself, doll,” he implored.

Before Eveline could scold him for the nickname, Lili’s nervous voice came calling through the open window, “MOMMA…?” Bucky and Eveline froze, eyes locked for the briefest of moments before they were both up and running to the door. “MOMMA!” Lili called again.

“I’m here, Lili. What’s wrong?” Eveline called, moving quickly down the stair into the yard towards her daughter. Bucky stayed up at the top of the fire escape and began scanning the surrounding area for any signs of danger. He couldn’t hear what it was Lili was saying into her mother’s neck, but he could see nothing in or outside of the yard, or on any of the surrounding streets. He continued to keep his eyes peeled, however, until Eveline and Lili had made it back inside. The two situated themselves on the couch, Eveline’s arms securely wrapped around her daughter’s shoulders, and Bucky moved to squat down to Lili’s eye level.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked softly. There were no tears in her eyes, which he took as a positive sign. She nodded her head, and Bucky took one of her small hands in his. “Would you like me to get you something to drink?”

“Can I have some chocolate milk, please?”

Bucky smiled warmly at her and replied, “of course you can. I’ll be right back,” and with a gentle squeeze of her hand, he headed for the kitchen. Upon returning with the beverage, he found Eveline turning the TV onto what he supposed was a show Lili enjoyed. He handed the girl her milk, and — after ensuring that she was settled comfortably to watch her show — Bucky grabbed Eveline and pulled her into the kitchen.

“What happened? Did she see something?”

Eveline crossed her arms and Bucky could tell by her sigh that she was trying to appear unaffected, but he could sense her unease beneath it. “She said a man was watching her from across the street.”

An intense wariness chilled Bucky’s bones at the notion of that little girl being watched. “Watching her?” he asked tightly.

“Keep your voice down. I don’t want her to hear you,” Eveline hissed at him. “She said it was the same man as last time—”

“Last time?!?”

“SHH!” Eveline’s gaze flicked worriedly over to the living room, but Lili was still blissfully watching the TV. “It happened a few weeks ago, and I was trying to come up with a way to tell you, but…”

She didn’t need to finish the thought. Bucky remembered the seemingly insurmountable tension that had been between them just last week. He sighed deeply through his nose. “Did you get any sort of description from her?”

Eveline shrugged. “Not much, just that he’s a man with dark brown hair and matching eyes.”

Their earlier conversation about Rumlow’s knowledge of Lili came back to his thoughts, and Bucky felt certain he had his answer. A grim fear settled at the base of his skull, and the look in Eveline’s eyes told him she knew exactly where his thoughts had turned.

“I don’t think Brock would be stupid enough to come this close, not when he knows we’re after him.”

“Probably not. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t send someone in his place.”

Eveline sighed and nodded, confirming that she’d feared the same thing. Bucky hated seeing that emotion in her eyes, but he hated that his home was no longer a place she felt safe even more. He’d failed to protect her once, he wouldn’t do so again.

“Maybe you should consider getting away for a bit,” he suggested in as calm a voice as he could. At the affronted expression that came over her face, he pressed on, “I know you’ve just started getting back into stuff, and I’m not trying to take you back out of it. I’m just saying, if we could find a way for you and Lili to disappear for a while, get you off Rumlow’s radar, you could continue work on the case, Lili would be safe, and it might force Rumlow’s hand and make it easier to find him.”

Eveline’s look of frustration melted into one of contemplation, and Bucky hoped she wouldn’t take his reasoning as overprotectiveness. He knew better than to attempt to whisk the two away from all dangers, but he couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to Lili.

After a moment, Eveline sighed and nodded. “I’ll think about it,” she consented, slowly moving her eyes back to his.

Bucky would take whatever he could get from her and nodded his acceptance. He held Eveline’s gaze for another few moments and did his best not to squirm, as she appeared to be appraising him. He didn’t know what it was she was looking for, and before he could ask if she’d found it, Lili’s voice called to them from the living room. They went in and finished their go fish tournament in time for Lili to finish her school day, and Bucky went back to his office to continue his work, but the fear that had pooled around his neck remained there for the rest of the day.

※ ※

The following morning, Eveline headed into the training gym to do her physical therapy exercises. Ignoring the sound of Bucky’s concerned voice in her head asking after her sleep the day before. It seemed Natasha wasn’t the only person who thought she was pushing too hard. She turned on the treadmill after completing her warmup stretches and started off at a slow pace. Given the family of training gyms she ran in Queens, Eveline knew all about rehabilitative training and the importance of pacing yourself, and felt she was qualified to monitor her own threshold.

A small part of her was touched that Bucky cared enough about her to notice the signs of physical burnout that she’d been ignoring, and say something to her about it. Their relationship had improved vastly in the week or so since their conversation on the roof. Eveline looked forward to their lunch dates and found herself thinking about him frequently throughout the day. They had exchanged phone numbers one afternoon when Lili had wanted to go hang out with Bucky, and they now remained in communication throughout the day. He would send her memes he came across that made him laugh — after having explained to her what a meme was — and Eveline would respond with the funniest thing Lili had said recently. It was a tentative friendship they were building with undertones of something more, and if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t really mind where it was going.

Eveline continued to move through the motions of her PT exercises, and her mind shifted as she did so. Thoughts of Bucky’s concerns for her recovery reminded her of his similar concerns for Lili yesterday. She was glad she had told him about the man now, not having intended to keep anything from him — especially not something as important as Lili’s safety and his home’s security. When they’d talked about it in the kitchen, Eveline had done her best to maintain a professional perspective, but the idea of someone watching her daughter was one that she found difficult to think objectively about, and if Brock had anything to do with it… She couldn’t finish the thought.

She moved from the elliptical to the stationary bike and contemplated the likelihood of Brock being behind Lili’s stalker — just using that noun made her sick to her stomach. For the life of her, Eveline couldn’t think of any way Brock could benefit from keeping tabs on her daughter. And for that matter, she couldn’t come up with a motive for any of his actions over the last month. The man had a job working for Pierce in Manhattan. Why on earth would he come to Brooklyn and get a job working for Bucky? Was it some kind of long game Pierce was playing? Eveline recalled her conversation with Bucky at lunch yesterday about Pierce’s potential involvement. That was the piece of the puzzle that was the most confusing, because if Brock was here doing all these things on Pierce’s orders, they needed to start considering what Pierce stood to gain from any of this.

Her attackers had said Brock wanted to start a mob war. New York hadn’t seen a real mob war in years, the various Mafia families having settled into their own territories to avoid further interference from the law. If there really were a mob war between Brooklyn and Queens, it might be true that any of the nearby mafia families could stand to benefit from their neighbor’s losses, but did Pierce really think gaining control of Brooklyn was worth risking something as big and messy as a mob war? Eveline didn’t think so. She knew Pierce, knew how he preferred to operate, and didn’t think he would risk such public scrutiny when he was running at the peak of his career. She agreed that Oliver’s death looked like Pierce’s work, but that didn’t necessarily link him to the rest of the case… did it? In the interrogation, Kingston had said Brock wanted to start a war, not Pierce, but could they trust his intel?

Eveline was so caught up in these thoughts that she didn’t notice Bucky had entered the gym until he came to stand in front of her bike. The look on his face had her slowing her pedaling to brace for whatever news he had to report.

She raised her eyebrows as he motioned for her to keep up her exercise. “You don’t have to stop, just listen.” He took his phone out of his pocket and began pulling something up. “You remember what Kingston said about Rumlow’s plan to set fire to my hotels?”

Eveline nodded, still a bit too winded for a verbal response. He turned his phone around to show her a video from the local news channel. The anchor was standing in front of Oliver’s hotel, and though she couldn’t hear what the woman was saying, she gathered from the three firetrucks and one ambulance on the scene that Kingston’s prediction had been more accurate than they had expected.

“There was a minor explosion in one of the 4th floor bathrooms,” Bucky explained — where the fire would be able to grow before the smoke alarm could detect anything, Eveline realized. Bucky’s face was grim as he continued. “All the news stations are reporting mob activity.”

The stationary bike beneath her beeped, signaling the end of her workout and the start of her cooldown. Eveline slowed the movement of her legs and attempted to take in deep breaths. A task made more challenging by the information she was struggling to process. Someone had triggered an explosion as an act of arson against Oliver’s hotel?

“Pepper’s been collecting a full report of the event. She wants us to meet in her office as soon as we can,” Bucky explained, putting his phone away.

Her movements having slowed to a stop, Eveline turned off the bike’s program, but remained seated where she was, taking slow breaths to calm her heart. “Do you think it’s connected to the plan Kingston was talking about?” she asked.

Bucky shrugged skeptically, “I was wondering the same thing, except…”

“It’s not one of your hotels,” Eveline finished, and he nodded.

“Which doesn’t really help Rumlow’s supposed goal of starting a war.”

Eveline agreed, but there was still something off about the attack. The fire had happened too soon after their interrogation of Brock’s men for it to feel like a coincidence, and with the news jumping immediately to mob activity? It wasn’t uncommon for the public to suspect the mob, but they usually only turned to that as a last resort.

Bucky’s phone dinged in the silence. “That’s Pepper. She’s ready for us,” he said, eyeing her position on the bike. Eveline hid her discomfort well, but she was sure he could still see the hesitation in her eyes at the prospect of maneuvering herself down off the bike so quickly. She’d had no trouble getting on or off the machine on her own since that first day, but she usually gave herself a bit more time to rest before maneuvering her sore hip up over the tall seat to disembark. When she still hadn’t moved, Bucky shot her a questioning look, and Eveline sighed resignedly before reaching her hand out in his direction.

Bucky did his best to conceal his amused chuckle and stepped closer, placing her outstretched hand on his shoulder and grabbing hold of her waist with one hand to steady her shaky limbs. Eveline relied on Bucky’s ridiculous upper body strength to stabilize her as she stood and shifted all of her weight onto one of the bike’s pedals. She tried really hard to focus on keeping her balance rather than the thick corded muscles of Bucky’s shoulder beneath her fingers, or the heat from his rough palm on her skin through her tank top. The soft words of encouragement coming from his lips certainly didn’t help, either. And honestly, what did the universe expect from her in her exhausted state when her senses were being assaulted by all things Bucky? As she swung her other leg over the seat of the bike, her toes caught and her body lurched forward.

Eveline would have hit the ground face first if Bucky hadn’t shifted in front of her and reached his other hand out to catch her, both of his hands now encircling her waist. “Woah, I gotcha,” he said in that same soft tone. His eyes lifted to hers and the gentle concern she found there stole her breath. Bucky held her suspended in the air, their faces mere inches apart, for only a few seconds longer before he breathed in sharply and took a small step back. Lifting her fully off of the bike, he placed her down beside him carefully, keeping one hand out to steady her for a moment before removing his hand from her side. Eveline felt the loss of that hand more than she’d expected and swayed forward slightly with his movement.

“Easy there, doll,” Bucky said in little more than a whisper, easily grabbing the hand she’d reached out for him.

Forcing herself to come back down to earth, Eveline found it within her to place her free hand on her hip and scowl lightly at him for the use of that endearment.

Bucky chuckled again and let go of her hand, which fell back to her side with a plop. He raised his arms in mock surrender with a sheepish look coming over his features as he stepped towards the gym door. “Sorry, Eveline,” he amended before gesturing that he would follow her towards Pepper’s office.

Eveline rolled her eyes dramatically before making her way to the door, calling on all her mental faculties to move at a controlled pace. She reminded herself why he had come to get her, and of the fire they were about to discuss, hoping to regain power over her wildly beating heart. It shouldn’t have been that easy for him to disarm her so thoroughly. It would have been faster to take the stairs up to the floor where Pepper’s office was, but given her body’s current state, Eveline opted for the elevator.

Thankfully, the closer they got to Pepper’s office, the tamer her thoughts became. She didn’t know what else Pepper could have found beyond what Bucky had already told her, but she knew it couldn’t be good if she had called a meeting to discuss it. The elevator doors opened, and Bucky followed her down the hall to Pepper’s office. Knocking once, Eveline opened the door and entered to find Steve and Pepper already talking.

“Sorry to have to interrupt your physical therapy, Eveline, but I appreciate you coming in. You’re really gonna want to see this,” Pepper said as Eveline took the seat next to Steve.

“I had just finished when Buck came to get me. It’s fine. What have you got?”

Turning one of her monitors to face them, Pepper began going through all the facts of the crime scene. Approximately three hours before, a small, remotely controllable explosive device detonated in the bathroom of room 406 at Oliver’s hotel. The explosion lit fire to the wallpaper, a pile of towels and clothes, and the shower curtain. And since the bathrooms do not have smoke detectors, these things were allowed to burn uninterrupted. The fire quickly consumed the wall between the bathroom and the adjoining bedroom as well, but someone had tampered with the smoke detector. After about 45 minutes, the blaze had grown large enough to burn through the wall into the hallway as well. Those smoke detectors did sound at that point, but, as police have found, all the sprinklers on that hall had been tampered with and did nothing to suppress the flames. The fire burned for around another 50 minutes before the fire department arrived and was able to put it out, but luckily, not much was damaged outside of the hotel rooms immediately surrounding room 406. Seeing as no one had been checked into any of the rooms in question, the police had been called in to investigate once the fire department deemed the area safe.

Eveline took in all this information with a frown. It didn’t seem like anybody knew much of anything about the situation yet. “And they haven’t examined the security footage for possible suspicious activity?” she asked.

“That’s the first problem: at some point last night, the security cameras were hijacked, and the live feed was replaced with older footage to cover it up,” Steve explained solemnly. “They have no way of knowing who even went to the fourth floor in the first place, let alone who might have nicked a master key to get into 406.”

“So they haven’t made any sort of statement?” Eveline asked.

Pepper gave her a worried look and pulled up a video from a local news channel of a policeman making a statement. “Without the use of security footage, we have had to resort, for the time being, to circumstantial evidence,” the officer stated. “We have conducted as thorough an examination of the room as was possible, given its condition, but most of the potentially useful evidence was burned away. We do, however, have one major lead.” The officer paused to pull a small evidence bag from his pocket to hold up to the camera. “This charm bracelet belonging to the current leader of the Queens mafia, Eveline Stone, was found on the scene. Miss Stone has notably been seen around the Brooklyn area for the last month, leading us to believe it is quite possible for her to have committed this crime.”

Eveline felt all the blood drain from her face. Even through the screen and the plastic of the evidence bag, she would recognize that bracelet anywhere. It had belonged to her mother, and Maggie had given it to her for her 20th birthday the year before she graduated college. She’d worn it almost daily during her final year at Cornell, but hadn’t put it on since before her time in Manhattan. Recently, Eveline had given the charm bracelet to her daughter for her ninth birthday. It was still too big for Lili’s wrist, so she had secured it around the neck of her favorite doll, like a necklace.

“Eveline,” Steve called softly, leaning forward from his seat next to her. “Is that your bracelet?” he asked, but Eveline only barely heard him. Her eyes were locked with Pepper’s, communicating silently about the significance of that bracelet having been found at the crime scene.

Pepper tilted her head forward, a single eyebrow raised in question. Was that bracelet inside this house? Eveline nodded her confirmation of Pepper’s fears. Her friend grimaced. Eveline posed a question with a sweep of her eyes around the room, but Pepper only shook her head. She knew nothing about who might be responsible. Pepper glanced decisively towards the door with her eyes, pointedly raising both eyebrows in a command, but Eveline shook her head at the idea of running away now.

“Eveline,” Pepper said with a commanding tone, “you know you can’t stay here.”

Steve looked back and forth between the two women, a confused look in his eyes. “Woah, woah what just happened here?” He turned back to Eveline. “Who said anything about you leaving town?”

Bucky moved from his place behind her chair and sank down beside her. “Eveline,” he placed his hand on her shoulder, “look at me.” She turned to meet his earnest gaze. “Where did they get the bracelet?”

She stared into his eyes for another moment before responding in a trembling voice, “Lili had put it on her doll as a necklace.” Fearful understanding dawned in his eyes as she finished, “It’s been in her room upstairs since we got here.”

Eveline watched, mesmerized, as a series of intense emotions rolled through his irises before finally landing on heated determination. “Eveline, if someone broke into Lili’s room without being detected, you know it’s not safe for her to stay here, especially not when someone has been keeping tabs on her.”

Eveline closed her eyes and dropped her head into her hands. She knew he and Pepper were right, and there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her daughter, but simply running away from the problem didn’t sit right with her.

“And given that the Brooklyn police are on your ass now, it might not be a bad idea for you to disappear, either. Go off grid for a while,” Pepper encouraged. “Nat can stay here and be your representative, and keep you in the loop.”

“What can I even do?” Eveline asked, lowering her hands from her face. She couldn’t go back to Queens without confirming her guilt, but she didn’t have any safe houses established, and she refused to do anything that might put her mom or brother at risk. Feeling more helpless by the minute, she exclaimed, “I won’t just pack my daughter into the car and run away to god knows where”

Bucky held her worried gaze with a reassuring one of his own. “I’ll go with you,” he offered. Ignoring the expression on Steve and Pepper’s faces, he shrugged as casually as he could manage under the circumstances and said, “considering the mob angle the news stations are trying to spin, it would be good to negate any allegations that you’re attacking me.”

Feeling defeated, Eveline raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Where would we go?”

“We can go to my mom’s place on Long Island.”

“Bucky, I am not going to just drop in on your mother and put her at risk like that!”

He moved his touch from her shoulder to grab her hands in his own. “No, really, she’s one of my safe houses. It’s as close to off the grid as you can get in New York City, complete with a secure private entrance, and secure internet access thanks to Tony’s wi-fi security.” Bucky smiled and huffed a laugh. “And trust me, you don’t have to worry about putting my mom at risk. She’s the scariest person I know, and she’s been in much riskier situations, believe me.”

They sat in silence for a moment as Eveline looked around at her friends, old and new, and considered their argument. She supposed she hadn’t had much of a case to begin with and they had solutions for every excuse and counterpoint she presented. Realizing she’d lost the battle, Eveline slumped in her chair letting her head fall back, and for the first time since this whole mess started, she found herself blinking back tears because at the end of the day, it was her daughter’s safety on the line. She needed to get Lili out of Brooklyn, and Eveline had promised she’d never leave her daughter alone.

After a few more moments of negotiation, they agreed that Bucky, Eveline, and Lili would go for a week to Long Island with and stay with Bucky’s mom. Lili would still be able to keep up with her schoolwork, Eveline could continue with her PT and stay involved with the case, and Bucky could help his mom with various projects around the house she’d been waiting to get to until he came to see her next.

Bucky went over all the safety and privacy features of the home that qualified it as a safe house, and by the time he was finished, Eveline felt better about the whole thing. They decided to leave first thing the next morning to encounter the least amount of traffic and get settled in before Lili’s first class would start.

The meeting concluded, Bucky walked Eveline back to her room. Neither one of them said much on the way. Her mind consumed with thoughts of someone snooping through her daughter’s things while no one was there. It was that image that had finally convinced her to agree and leave town. Eveline could put up with a lot, but she drew the line at her daughter’s safety and wellbeing. Bucky left her at her door with the promise to come by later so they could discuss departure plans. The rest of the afternoon went by in a daze. Eveline informed Lili about their trip at lunch and finalized their plans with Bucky after dinner. She helped her daughter to pack before putting her to bed and then turned in for the night. Even knowing they had an early wake-up call in the morning, she struggled to fall asleep that night, her mind still spinning with thoughts of stalkers and arson. Eveline felt confident she was making the right choice for her daughter, but she couldn’t help but feel like they were playing right into Brock’s hands.

///

If you made it this far, thank you again for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! It would mean the world to me if you could let me know what you thought, and if you noticed any mistakes, or if I neglected to include a chapter warning you think applies!

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