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olderthannetfic · 2 years

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No hard feelings if this is asking for tmi and you don't want to share, but do you think your sex positivity as an early teen was purely the result of a more open minded environment, or did you ever consider yourself to be hypersexual?

I am struggling to wrap my mind around the childhood you have described. I went to public school in the central valley. It's a red area but my sports team traveled to private schools all over the state for competitions. All the wealthy parts of California seemed very conservative and Christian to me.

I was horny at that age too, but I don't think I would've wanted actual sex, even if my environment was not quite so conservative. I was too worried about pregnancy and STDs. By 16, the furthest most people had gone within my peer group was outercourse. (At least, as far as I knew. I also was not very popular and probably did not get all the gossip.)

However the only girls who went further than that, or at least openly talked about going further than that, were from troubled homes. They always seemed like they were getting pressured into the things they were doing.

I believe you had a healthy childhood. I'm not trying to insinuate anything and I know you are tired of people suggesting this. I'm just struggling to comprehend the upbringing that you're describing. If I had even attempted to get a vibrator at that age, I'm pretty sure I would've been bullied to hell.

How in the world were you getting sex books and toys at 14? If your parents were in on it, how did they not get bullied by other parents?

I got most of my teen health books (which included sex advice) from my parents friends as presents. No, other adults would not have bullied them.

Have you ever seen Call Me By Your Name, anon? I'm vastly less European than the vibe there, but those intellectuals reading books aloud and pretending they can't see their hapless offspring trying to figure out life remind me of the adults I grew up with.

The sex toys I mostly got when I was a little older. I'm probably exaggerating to think I had them at 14 rather than 16. (I'm old. Things blur together.) But if one looked old enough, one could buy them plenty of places. Good Vibrations was my go-to later, but some of the sketchier places were closer by and not at all discerning about clientelle. Books were easy: I just walked into any one of the many, many odd little bookstores around here and went poking around the queer or sexuality sections. Some stuff I found in the library. Bookstores don't card people.

I really cannot emphasize enough how much difference it makes to be geographically near weird indie bookstores with alternative sexuality sections. Not only was I able to buy, but I could lurk in the aisles, reading things in the store. (Unnecessary in my case, but a godsend if you don't want your parents catching you with something at home.)

It was at these bookstores that I bought Anything That Moves, a bisexual magazine that ran during basically my entire adolescence and no other time. Reading queer community papers certainly does something for one's outlook. This particular magazine was especially interesting in that the 90s queer landscape was very much oriented towards cis gay men and cis lesbians, and not only was the magazine specifically about bisexuality, our own rights struggles, and our culture, but it was also very trans-friendly.

On the subject of schools, private schools, broadly, come in three types: Catholic, for rich people so they don't have to associate with the poor, and for the ~gifted~. All can be expensive and full of rich people, but the last of the three tends to be a lot more liberal than the other two. Also, a lot of them suck at sports.

But to answer your question... hmm... I don't think I was hypersexual. I was on the horny little gremlin end of teens, certainly, but I wasn't such an outlier that I see it as pathological. I definitely stood out from my classmates though, and I chalk it up to early unfettered access to Usenet.

At the time, the internet tended to be full of academics and tech industry people from a few parts of the US, from the Netherlands, and from a couple of other countries. (No, really, I knew a bajillion randos from the Netherlands.) Many countries seemed to barely be online in the early 90s. It was very unevently distributed, even compared to now.

So Usenet was full of adults who felt themselves to be in relatively homogeneous, friendly, ephemeral spaces (little did we know about later archives of posts) and who wanted to discuss BDSM, bisexuality, and other sex and identity things. I didn't interact that much, but I was lurking in the kinds of spaces people usually try to keep minors out of.

I doubt I was that much hornier than other classmates, but I was vastly kinkier, especially in fiction tastes, and much more self-aware about that. Because my tastes were weird, I kept seeking out spaces with adults discussing kink. I also sought out a lot of freaky art.

My mom actually wasn't at all supportive of BDSM. She thought that kind of taste came from a background of abuse (which I know because she made weird comments when she saw me reading a book about BDSM safety), but it didn't matter because I was secure enough and had enough exposure to kinky adults to not be freaked out by Mom being wrong. I just thought it was embarrassing for her that she was so ignorant.

When I say I was online and unsupervised on the old internet, I think some people imagine a lot of gore spam and scary porn I wasn't ready for and old people creeping on me... But Usenet of that era was awash with FAQs by overly earnest adults pontificating about their special interests. How my tumblr sounds now is a lot more similar to that environment than most horror stories about internet porn.

Here's an example of some tl;dr overly earnest types in 2010 trying to document the history of fantasy necrophilia sites online. These people were definitely pedantic Usenet nerds 15 years before this.

Here's a 2001 version of the soc.bi FAQ. This is such a microcosm of what internet culture looked like in the late 90s/early 00s prior to everyone leaving Usenet and mailing lists for Livejournal and such.

muffin: A person who reads but has never posted to soc.bi. De-muffining means posting to soc.bi for the first time, hence no longer being a muffin.

Oh my god! I'd forgotten about 'muffin'!

Anyway, the big thing to notice here is that whether it's freaky fetish porn or factual info about orientations, everyone is extremely earnest, likes answering nosy questions endlessly, and is actively engaged in recording the history of their own communities and compiling lists of resources and where to find things.

It's culturally the opposite of, say, tiktok, where the algorithm serves you up what it thinks you should see and everyone is stewing in learned helplessness.

So it was partly a stable, sex-positive, supportive family. It was partly access to other adults' writing. And a decent chunk of it was that I had some pretty dark fantasies, so it was natural for me to actively confront what those do and do not mean in a way that a more vanilla teenager wouldn't have needed to.

I wasn't hypersexual, but I was born kinky, and it did make a difference.

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ssa-assclown · 3 years

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What If We Kissed At The Library (& Then Got Each Other Off)? JK...Unless // Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

‼️18+, Minors DNI‼️

Summary: Spencer & his girlfriend (the reader) visit the local library. Smut ensues.

Warnings: handjob, public (but sneaky) (spoiler alert they do NOT get caught but still -), slight exhibitionism, fingering, established relationship, kinda fluffy very smutty

Word Count: ~2k

**originally posted on my ao3, link in my about!**

“God, I love this place,” you said, gazing up at the large, familiar building up ahead, the sun glaring down on you harshly from the sky. Your boyfriend, walking beside you, got a certain glint in his eye. You knew what was coming; you knew it, and you absolutely loved it - fun facts incoming!

“You know, the first libraries consisted of archives of the earliest form of writing - clay tablets written in cuneiform script, which were originally discovered in Sumer. Some dated back as far as 2600 BCE.”

“I didn’t know that,” you said earnestly, tugging on the door handle, glad your hand was occupied so you could keep it from teasingly pinching Spencer’s adorable cheeks - a form of endearment he often swatted away with a blush. “I mean, I knew about Sumer and Mesopotamia and all that, but I didn’t know it was the origin of the first written language. Or I guess maybe I did know, and forgot.”

He strolled in and you followed.

“The history of the written word is so fascinating. Reading about the way language has changed over time and for what reasons is one of my favorite subjects.”

“Well then it’s a good thing we’re here,” you said, a bit quieter as the pair of you walked past the information desk and the eyes (and ears) of the on-duty librarians. The cooling blast from the A/C felt like a godsend and you sighed. Spencer followed your lead up the steps to the second floor, which held most of the library’s collection. It was vast and colorful and welcoming, the shelves stretching out to greet you like a tree with too many branches. It smelled so comforting, the carpet and wood and paper. You breathed it in. You were home.

You started in the world history section, watching Spencer run his fingers over the spines, silently reading the titles to himself. He was so beautiful. You couldn’t help but admire him, even doing something as normal and relatively mundane as this. He could never be mundane, not to you, with his shoulder length curls, his pink pouty lips, his slender, tall frame. Spencer Reid, wearing a cardigan in 85 degree weather, his light olive skin tinted red from the heat, with one hand on his leather satchel, the other ghosting over books at remarkable speed. He looked like Cabanel’s fallen angel, but more angelic, more ethereal. He looked like perfection in dark jeans. His tongue swiped out for a moment to wet his bottom lip and that was enough.

Without saying a word, you slipped a finger under the hand that was gripping the satchel strap, tugging his hand into yours. Though he was still scanning the shelves, he reciprocated instantly, intertwining your fingers and giving your palm a gentle squeeze. He pulled you along down the aisle, occasionally sliding a book out to scan its front cover and back before returning it to the shelf.

“What were you thinking of checking out today?” you asked quietly.

He thought for a moment, a book in his hand, then turned to look at you. “Probably something about Germany, but I’m not entirely sure yet. What about you?”

You chuckled to yourself, then leaned in a bit. “I’d like something from art history, but...right now, the only thing I’m checking out is you.”

It took a second to register, but once it did Spencer shook his head, lips upturned and cheeks a bit redder. “Y/N...” he groaned at the cheesiness of the pickup line.

“Spencer...” you mock-groaned back.

He slipped the book into his satchel for safe-keeping. “Alright, let’s head to art, then.”

“Art history - “

“Yeah, yeah...right...”

He was flustered. Good.

You let go of Spencer’s hand as you surveyed the art history section, sliding the large books out of place and carefully sliding them back when you were through. After reading the back of a book on Monet, you felt Spencer’s eyes on you in your peripheral vision. You glanced up and sure enough, he was leaning against the shelf, chewing on his lip, gazing back at you.

It happened without either of you realizing it.

It was like some sort of instinct took over. You couldn’t wait. You couldn’t be rational. You couldn’t be reasonable human beings. You needed to touch each other and you needed to touch each other now.

You set the book haphazardly (but silently) somewhere on the shelf, knowing you’d come back for it later, and made your way to Spencer. His eyes looked so full of want, it was almost overwhelmingly gorgeous. You tugged on the collar of his button-up shirt and leaned up to kiss him roughly, teeth clashing briefly, his tongue making its way into your mouth without hesitation. He tasted like coffee and cherry chapstick. You sighed.

You felt him start to get hard as you pulled away. You met his eyes again and he nodded his silent permission. Both of you instantly checked your surroundings, finding the second floor to still be deserted, at least from what you could see from the aisle. The art history section was towards the back of the floor and so, quite honestly, you might not have been alone after all. But again, rational thought had flown out the window. Only lust and hormones remained, and unfortunately so did Spencer’s jeans, which were starting to get extremely uncomfortable for him. And so you surreptitiously undid his belt.

You heard his breath start to quicken. It made your heart pound faster in your chest. This wasn’t the first time you’d given Spencer a handjob in public, but it also wasn’t something you’d done frequently. It was mostly uncharted territory, especially since the only public places you’d done things like this were more enclosed and private - places like movie theaters, or ferris wheels, or private jets…

Every slight movement sounded ten times louder in the silence of the library. The jingle of Spencer’s belt buckle may as well have been a fire alarm, even with your carefulness. You gulped and undid the button of his jeans, faking a sneeze as you unzipped the fly. He chuckled under his breath at your inventiveness. Your mouth watered at the sight of the tent in his boxers, cock straining uncomfortably against the fabric. You wanted to taste him so bad, but you couldn’t do it here. Still, your stomach did a flip at the thought. Later, you told yourself. That was far too risky.

You looked up into his eyes for consent once more and he nodded eagerly, big doe eyes pleading for relief. You didn’t waste anymore time and slipped your hand into his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his dick and pumping him slowly.

He was even more eager than you thought, precum dripping from the tip, and god you wanted to taste him. You again fought the urge and brought the wetness down his length, using it as lube. He was so big. He didn’t look it, but damn was he packing. Though you were often on top, pegging the daylights out of him, it was so nice when you bottomed for Spencer. You held your breath, remembering how good it felt to have the cock in your grip fucking you into the mattress. Every single time, it was an earth-shattering, bruising, mind-blowingly good fuck, and Jesus Christ were you horny now.

Spencer bucked into your hand and you looked up to see his face, eyes gripped shut, trying his hardest not to make any noise. At home, he was like a pornstar, the way he moaned, all inhibition gone with his clothes. You knew it was hard for him to stay quiet here just like it was hard for you to not immediately fall on your knees and take him into your mouth. You twisted your hand a bit as you continued to stroke him and his breath stuttered, one hand resting on the shelf beside him so he could bite down on the skin there, the other clutching his satchel, knuckles white.

He was close.

You tightened your grip a bit, focusing more on the head, other hand making its way to tease his balls. He whined then - quietly, but still - and for a moment you completely stopped, terrified someone had heard. You were both frozen in place for a good five seconds before collectively deciding it was safe to continue, and you did so at a merciless pace. Spencer was breathing so fast and so loud you were certain if anyone walked onto the second floor, they’d think someone was having an asthma attack up there. His eyes shot open and you knew he was about to cum. You gave in and got onto your knees, taking him into your mouth as he came, thick cock spurting cum deep into your throat. Spencer’s hand that had been death-gripping his satchel strap threaded through your hair lovingly, and he sighed in contentment, sated and blissful. You swallowed his release fully and kissed his tummy, tucking his softening cock back into his boxers, standing up before you had him zipped, buttoned, and rebuckled, another fake sneeze aiding your stealth.

It’s amazing how well-fucked a man can look with just one handjob-turned-slight-blowjob. Spencer’s eyes were dilated, his lips red and slightly swollen, face flushed, hair sticking to his glistening forehead. He was still catching his breath, and you could see the mark he’d left on his hand from biting down to stay quiet - something the team of profilers back at work would probably have a lot of questions about on Monday. He pulled you towards him and kissed you quickly, then slowly, tasting himself on your tongue and shivering at the intimacy of it all. He pulled away and nuzzled his nose against yours, mouth falling open lazily. You traced those red, swollen lips with your finger and kissed him again, and when you pulled away he arose concerned.

“What about you?” he whispered. “You didn’t - ?”

You laughed shortly under your breath. “You think we can get away with more public indecency?”

He shrugged. “I owe you,” he whispered. “And,” he leaned in to your ear, “I want to.”

Your stomach flipped.

You nodded at him and his lips turned up at the corners. You were in a skirt, making this a relatively easier feat than the one previous. You braced yourself against the sturdy bookshelf, stepping onto a nearby step stool to give Spencer better access. He slid his hand into your thong, the fabric wet from watching your pretty boy come undone, and traced along your entrance briefly. He retracted immediately and fear shook you to the core. Had someone walked up behind you? “What - ? Oh,” you were speechless. Spencer had pulled his hand out to wet his long fingers, slipping them two by two into his mouth and sucking, looking into your eyes as he did it.

“Spencer,” you whispered reverently, and his eyes grew smug. He brought his hand back into your pants and started to rub your clit, you holding onto his shoulders a bit awkwardly. “I’m not gonna last long,” you admitted, and he quickened his pace, slipping two of his gorgeous fingers into you at once, leaning in towards your ear again.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he whispered, biting gently on your earlobe. “Cum for me. Cum for me.”

And you did. He kept on going through your orgasm, fingers perfectly fucking you through each shiver and swear and whisper of his name. Then he pulled out his hand and licked it clean, staring into your eyes while he did it. He licked his lips when he was done. “You always taste so pretty,” he whispered, breathing ragged.

“God, I really do love the library,” you whispered back.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #cm #mgg #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot

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bigballofstress · 3 years

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Pickpocket (Avengers x Child!Reader)

Description: You have been living on the streets for years, and over these years, you have become incredibly good at pickpocketing. Unfortunately for you, though, you picked the wrong target one too many times.

Part 2 if you guys want it, just let me know!

Chin up, shoulders back, even steps. My heart is calm, my breaths slow and measured, and every muscle in my body is relaxed. In other words, every last inch of me screams that I am a confident, kind young lady without a care in the world.

No matter what anybody says, looks really are everything. Every time you meet someone new or even just pass by them on the street, your mind makes a snap judgement about them. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that everyone you meet is prejudiced or anything of the sort. Those snap judgements can easily be changed with an open-minded person, sometimes without even needing a whole conversation. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that when you see a well-groomed person in a suit, your mind automatically thinks they are successful, and when you see someone coming at you with a hoodie covering their face and their hands in their pockets, you automatically tense up. None of that is your fault, and actually it’s probably a good thing that you would be wary of people who are acting rather suspicious. Really, the only issue with these immediate ideas of every person you see is the fact that it makes people like me -- people who understand how these momentary impressions work -- able to take advantage of them.

It didn’t take long to realize I had a talent for it. I already looked the part, -- a helpless, adorable little girl -- I had a surprising knack for staying calm under pressure, and as much as I hated the old bitch, my caretaker had given me all the tools I needed. She was a stickler for proper manners, so I learned how to speak, sit, and walk like a “proper young lady.” Plus, her insane rules about tiny meal portions and too-early curfews taught me to be light on my feet as I often sneaked downstairs to grab a roll of bread at night. Yes, I had everything I needed. The only real hurdle was actually deciding to do it. I never really wanted to be a bad person. But the world is a heartless place, the city even more so, and by the end of my first week, I knew what I had to do if I was ever going to survive.

So, I started working -- oh, and by the way, no matter what you think, it is still a job. I put my time and effort into a certain task, and I obtain money because of it. I don’t know about you, but that certainly sounds like a job to me. And it was easier than I thought it would be. Within about a day, I realized that people saw me as sweet, innocent, and harmless -- no, more than that, they wanted to see me as harmless. Because if I wasn’t harmless, then that meant their world was even more screwed up than they thought. I learned quick, and by the end of the year, I had perfected my technique. It was simple: avoid all conversation if possible, and if absolutely necessary, smile and point out the farthest adult man within reason as my dad before weaving through the small gaps in the crowd, preferably around taller people, so they couldn’t see or follow me. I only got caught once or twice, but I’m grateful that I did. It forced me to learn perspective, that I needed to know more than just how to talk well. So, I learned how to run through a city. And now, I’m practically unstoppable.

As I take my even, not-too-fast-but-not-too-slow stroll down the sidewalk, a small, ambiguous smile decorating my lips, I can see it in each person’s eyes as they walk past that I have completely embodied my character. My arms swung with a practiced nonchalance as my eyes flickered from one person to the next, each time going through a mental list as I weighed the chances I had of succeeding on them versus how likely they were to catch on and calculated the amount of time that both of these events would likely take to happen. Finally, after a few minutes of this practice, one of them caught my eye.

He was larger, more muscular. Guys like him were a gamble. Often, a man of his appearance simply cared a bit too much about his appearance. Still, every now and then, they look like that because they been trained, and while past training usually meant they had no practice running in a city, it also meant that he would be much more jumpy and alert to his surroundings. However, his deep, loose pockets with the corner of his wallet just barely sticking out and the thoughtful gaze as he surveyed the buildings tipped the scales further and further in my favor. The wonder in his eyes just screamed tourist.

I gazed forward with an absentminded look in my eye that I’d spent months perfecting in the mirror while keeping him clearly in my periphery before bumping into him. As I hit him, two of my fingers simultaneously dipped into his pocket, where my knee bumped against his leg to jolt his wallet up and out. The moment the warm leather was in my grasp, I forced myself to fall backwards. Before I could hit the ground, though, I felt one of those strong, muscular arms had wrapped itself around my waist and was helping me back up.

My jaw clenched for half a second. This wasn’t good. His reflexes were too quick to have just worked out at some random gym, which meant my hunch was right: he had been trained. And that meant that I needed to get out of there fast. I wouldn’t be able to slip the wallet back in his pocket without bumping into him again, and that would only make me look even more suspicious, so I quickly emptied it of all of the cash behind his back and slipped the bills into my sleeve before tossing the piece of leather on the ground a few feet away.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes, and immediately I decided on my personality for the day -- bright and bubbly but proper. Gently, he released his arm from its position on my waist once he knew I had regained my footing.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I quickly apologized, my left hand shooting up to cover my mouth in fake shock while my right hand carefully dropped the money in one of my own pockets, all the while watching every last one of his movements for any sign of suspicion. “It was all my fault. I wasn’t paying attention where I was going.”

“It’s ok, really.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I wasn’t really looking where I was going either, so it was partially my fault, too.”

“Well, thank you for catching me, sir, but I really have to go,” I smiled at him apologetically. “I’m supposed to meet back up with my dad in about five minutes.”

“Oh, no worries,” he responded kindly before sneaking a glance at my old, slightly ripped clothes, the concern still dancing in his eyes. “You’re sure you’re alright, though?”

“Absolutely!” I dismissed. “Thank you again!”

“Um, yeah, no problem.” We both started to walk away.

I waited patiently as I listened to his retreating steps. 1... 2... 3... 4... and then-- “Hey, mister!” I called, bending down and grabbing the piece of leather from where I had tossed it earlier. “I think you might’ve dropped your wallet!”

The man turned back, shocked, before jogging back towards me. “I didn’t even notice,” he mumbled to himself. “Hey, thanks, kid.”

“My pleasure!” I chirped. “Now, sorry, but I really have to get going. See you around, sir!” I quickly jogged off, allowing myself to get lost in the crowd before he could even have a minute to fully understand what happened.

-- 3rd Person POV --

“I told you guys the world wasn’t such a bad place!” Steve called as he entered the living room of Stark Tower. The rest of the Avengers looked up in surprise. They had been having this argument for the past three days, with Steve insisting that there were still people who put others first living in New York while the entire rest of the team tried to convince him otherwise.

“Alright, show your work,” Tony leaned back against the wall, watching the captain with curiosity.

“I met a kid today who couldn’t have been older than 16. I was trying to remember what the city looked like before I went in the ice, and I accidentally bumped into her. She then spent the next few minutes constantly apologizing and saying it was all her fault. And the best part is, after we’d already walked away, she found and returned my wallet. I hadn’t even realized I had dropped it!” The 96-year-old man finished with a triumphant grin, leaving the rest of the team silent for a moment. That is, until Tony busted out laughing. Steve frowned. “...What?”

“Steve, honey, check inside of your wallet,” Natasha sighed as she turned back to the tv to watch whatever was on.

Steve frowned, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his wallet. “I don’t understand; why do you want me to....” He trailed off as he stared at the now empty pocket that only just earlier that day held around 65 dollars in cash. “She... but how did she...”

Tony slapped a heavy hand on Steve’s shoulder, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye. “She scammed you, bro. And you fell for it hook, line, and sinker,” he grinned before walking back to his room, still chuckling softly to himself at his friend’s misfortune.

------- Time Skip -------

About two weeks had passed since that godsend of a man and I crossed paths. I can’t remember the last time I had managed to lift 65 dollars off anyone. That kind of cash can last someone like me a really long time. But sadly, all good things must come to an end, and after buying myself the first decent meal I’d had in weeks plus a ton of canned foods and non-perishables that I dropped off at the nearest homeless shelter, that good thing ended ended all too quickly. Which meant it was time I went back to work.

I stepped into the public library, that same ambiguous smile painted ever so gently across my face. There weren’t a whole lot of people here and there were almost never any big scores, but working here was a lot less guess-work, and more often than not, the target was too engrossed in their book to even notice what I was doing, so there was also much less risk of being caught.

After a quick scan of the quiet room, my eyes landed on the man sitting at one of the long tables, his bag haphazardly laying next to him on the table. It should be easy enough to grab something from in there, and he seemed invested enough to have his guard down. He should make for a good target.

I walked into the science section and grabbed a few scientific papers, most of which were generally about to nuclear physics, before walking back to his table and sitting down right across from him. Scientific papers are the best way to make sure no one has the confidence to talk to you. I opened the paper that I had read a hundred times and started pretending to read it once more, my left hand resting on my cheek as my right hand slowly made its way towards the bag.

“Excuse me.” I glanced up, pausing my movement towards his back but still being careful not to react too quickly and retract my hand. I didn’t want to draw his attention to what I was doing, and if at all possible, I would still like to come out of this with something to show for it. As I met the glasses-clad, clearly intelligent eyes of the man in front of me, it was easy to figure out what my personality should be -- shy, smart, and above all else, kind. “Is that Schippers’s work?”

I blinked in surprise and allowed a soft smile to spread across my lips. “You know Stefan Schippers?”

“Yeah, his work in antimatter is amazing,” he grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and making him almost look like a completely different person. “Particularly regarding his research in collisions.”

I grinned back, taking note of how his eyes were now trained on mine, instead of glancing around like before. Maybe I should’ve started a conversation before -- clearly it was a good distraction for him. Well, either way, it’s going to be easier to lift something off of him now, so I guess I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “I completely agree. His work is amazing,” I giggled softly, glancing down at the table before looking back up at him, a slight red hue now painting the apples of my cheeks as my hand slipped inside of his bag.

“I was honestly surprised to see you reading that paper, actually,” he chuckled nervously. “I’ve read it at least 20 times, but I figured I was the only one.” I laughed lightly, slipping what felt like a wallet out of the bag and tucking it under my arm.

“Trust me, I’ve read this so many times, I’m afraid the library is going to have to replace it because I’ve worn it out so much. You know, if you’re interested in Schippers, you should read some of Dr. Banner’s papers,” I laid my left hand on his arm gently while my right arm swung back over to me, pushing the wallet into my lap. “As much as I love Schippers, Dr. Banner’s work is unparalleled.”

The man chuckled nervously again, ducking his head a bit. “You really think so, huh? How old are you anyways? I don’t see a whole lot of kids brushing up on nuclear physics.”

“I’m older than I look,” I casually brushed off the question. I was not about to give up any personal information, fellow science geek or not. “Oh, by the way, do you have the time?”

The man glanced at his watch. “About 6:00.”

My eyes widened in shock. “You’re kidding, it got that late?! My dad’s gonna kill me!” I gasped and quickly stood up, catching the wallet in my left hand and slipping it into my pocket. “It was really nice meeting you, sir, but I have to go home. I really liked talking to you, though! I hope we can meet again!” I hurriedly gathered the papers and rushed off, waving with a broad smile.

“Oh, uh nice meeting you... too...” he tried to respond, but she was already well out of sight.

-- 3rd Person POV --

“What the hell?” Bruce mumbled, digging through his bag. The pizza had just arrived, and he needed to pay his share.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha glanced at him, an eyebrow raised.

“I could’ve sworn I put my wallet in here, but now I can’t find it,” he frowned, continuing to search every last nook and cranny of the old bag.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy, I can cover you if you’re short,” Tony shrugged.

“That’s not the issue,” Bruce frowned, finally giving up and tossing his bag to the side in frustration. “That had my credit card, my driver’s license, and my ID for Stark Tower. If it’s lost somewhere, it could be a real problem.”

“When was the last time you remember having it?” Clint mumbled through a full mouth of the piece of pizza that he’d already shoved in his face. Natasha rolled her eyes and wiped off the bit of spit he’d gotten on her in disgust.

“I was at the library. I used my library card to check out some books,” he responded confidently.

“Again?” Clint asked, once again through a mouthful of cheese and marinara sauce. “What, do you live there or something?”

“Ok, now walk us through exactly what happened after you checked out those books,” Natasha suggested, doing her best to ignore her best friend.

Bruce sighed and nodded, sitting down. “I checked out my books, then walked over to one of the tables to start reading. Then I talked to that teenager for a little while about some of Schippers’s theories before she ran off--”

“You talked to a teenager about Schippers? And she actually understood?” Tony asked, lifting a brow in surprise.

“Yeah, she even recommended I read Dr. Banner’s work in the same field,” Bruce chuckled. “I thought it better not to tell her who I was, but according to her, Banner’s work is ‘unparalleled’.”

“Damn, the kid knows her stuff,” Tony nodded, impressed. “Did she say anything about--”

“Boys,” Natasha cut in. “The wallet.”

“Ah, right,” Bruce mumbled apologetically. “Anyways, after she ran off, I kept reading for a few minutes before leaving, too. Then I came back to the tower and got up here just in time to decide on ordering pizza with you guys.”

“Did you use the subway?” Natasha asked.

Bruce shook his head. “No. I figured since it was such a nice day out, I would just walk home.”

“How did you enter the building?”

“I ran into Steve downstairs, and we came in together.”

Steve, who had been silent up until this point, finally spoke up. “This teenager... Was she about 16? With (H/C) hair?”

“What, you think it’s the same girl who totally scammed you the other--” Tony started, getting ready to take part in his favorite pastime of making fun of Steve.

“Actually, yeah, she was,” Bruce answered, his eyes wide in realization.

Before anyone could say anything, Tony’s incredibly loud laughter filled the room. “Holy shit, you guys both got scammed by the same teenager! How does that even happen?!” He wheezed, laughing so hard he could hardly breath.

“Hey she seemed like a nice girl!” Bruce defended. “How was I supposed to know she was robbing me?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” Tony asked, tears streaming down his face now. Bruce opened his mouth, trying to come up with something but came up blank. A heavy hand landing on his shoulder knocked him out of his stupor.

“Just let it happen,” Steve sighed, his eyes cast down as he shook his head in sympathy.

------- Time Skip -------

It had been a week since I had spoken to that science nerd in the library, and I was still pissed. Seriously, what kind of grown man only carries around 4 dollars and 36 cents? Well, apparently, that weirdo did. I had thrown out all the cards and IDs to at least sell the what looked to be leather wallet to a pawn shop, but apparently the thing wasn’t even leather! All of that time, wasted for a measly 12 bucks. I’ll say it again: I was pissed.

So, now I was back out working again, because the money I’d made was barely enough to buy a few snacks that I had to portion out over the course of the past week.

As I walked down the sidewalk, still grumbling softly to myself about what had happened, I saw him.

Tony freaking Stark.

I grinned. Maybe my luck was getting better after all. I mean, a billionaire who’s famous for having, shall we say, questionable morals? After all, it’s not exactly nice to sleep with as many women as humanly possible before tossing them away like they’re nothing. I mean, sure there’s the whole iron man thing, but he’s still kind of a dick, let’s be honest. And while I usually tried to refrain from taking anything major in case my target doesn’t have a whole lot of money or the object is sentimental, billionaire jerks are fair game. And the best part was, I didn’t even have to read him to know the part I was going to play. Tony Stark would only ever fall for one personality: sarcastic, quick-witted, and strong.

His head was down, buried in his phone, so I casually walked towards him, picking up an old cup of coffee from one of a nearby cafe’s outdoor tables, before smacking into him head-first, spilling the coffee everywhere.

“What the hell?!”

“Oh my god!” We both yelled at the same time.

“Oh c’mon, kid, this is silk!” Tony continued to shout, staring down at the coffee covering his chest.

“Hey, I’m not the one with my head buried in my phone while walking through one of the busiest cities in the world,” I snapped back. “And you’re not the only one whose clothes got ruined. This is cashmere!” I lied through my teeth. It was a ratty old sweater that I’d bought for about 3 dollars at a thrift store.

Stark scoffed. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Yeah, you’re Tony Stark. That doesn’t change the fact that my parents are gonna be pissed about me ruining a hundred dollar sweater,” I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms defiantly.

That was when he finally glanced at me and my coffee-stained outfit. Stark sighed and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I’m sorry.” Wait, what? Since when does the great Tony Stark ever apologize for anything? “I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning, ok? Just give me your parents’ numbers.”

Shit, that’s not how this is supposed to go. Ok, new strategy. A sassy front but a kind interior.

I sighed and shook my head. “No, it’s not entirely your fault. I guess I could’ve tried to avoid you better. Anyways, you got a pen and paper?”

Stark nodded slightly and reached into his inner pocket, pulling out a tiny pad and a fancy looking pen. I quickly jotted down the phone number and handed it back to him. Shoot, he looked like he was about to walk away. I had to act quick or lose my chance. Time to add one more very important characteristic to my identity: pitiable. “Hey, I really am sorry. I kind of overreacted. It wasn’t cool. I guess I just got a little nervous. My dad likes things to be clean, and he can get pretty mad when I don’t follow that rule...” I trailed off a bit, glancing down at my feet. I shook my head quickly and met the billionaire’s gaze, now filled with concern, again. “Sorry, didn’t mean to dump that on you. I just wanted to say thanks.” I held out my right hand, praying that I’d guessed which hand to use correctly. As Stark grabbed my hand, I had to hold back a sigh of relief when I saw the watch casually placed on his wrist.

“It was really nice meeting you, Mr. Stark,” I smiled a bit, with my left hand closing over his wrist while three of my fingers on my right hand undid the clasp on his watch. Then I pressed down one the buttons on either side of the clasp with my middle finger on my right hand and my thumb on my left hand, making sure to hold the watch in place. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to buy you a coffee to make up for it. There’s a really nice café right over there.” I squeezed the watch tightly with my left hand and jerked my chin towards the store just behind him. He turned his head and looked, pulling his hand back slightly as he did so, which allowed me to slip the watch off his wrist. Immediately, I dropped it in my pocket before he had a chance to turn back around.

“Thanks, kid, but I’m good. I’ll give your parents a call when I get home, ok?” He said before awkwardly giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Now go run off and play with some dolls or whatever.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, but my collection can’t be nearly as big as yours,” I bit back with a slight, good-natured smirk. “Anyways, I gotta go home and get yelled at by my parents. Nice meeting you, Mr. Stark,” I called, waving to him as I was already leaving.

Stark shook his head with a small smile. “Yeah, you too, kid.”

-- 3rd Person POV --

“What, no watch today?” Tony furrowed his brows at Bruce’s question.

“Of course I have a watch today. I have a watch for every day of the week,” he scoffed, lifting his wrist to show off the rather expensive Rolex.

“Umm dude...?” Clint started.

“Yeah, I know it’s awesome, and no, you cannot try it on,” Tony smirked. “I have a very strict look don’t touch policy. These bad boys cost quite the pretty penny, and I wouldn’t want any of you trying to take it from me.” Clint just shrugged in defeat and unpaused his video game -- it wasn’t his fault his friend interrupted him trying to help.

“Tony, look at your wrist,” Steve rolled his eyes at the pompous man’s antics.

“What, just so I can admire it--” he cut himself off as his eyes landed on the bare skin of his wrist. “...Where the hell is my watch?”

“Maybe you forgot to put one on today?” Bruce shrugged, going back to his computer as he continued to work.

“No, I didn’t forget; I never forget,” Tony snapped. “It was there this morning, and now it’s gone.” He yanked up his sleeve to search in vain for the incredibly expensive missing item.

“Hey, maybe Tony was pick-pocketed, too,” Clint joked absentmindedly before cursing at some ‘dumbass little camping noob’ who kept killing him.

Tony’s eyes widened in realization. “Holy shit, it was the kid.”

“What?” Steve frowned.

“The kid! The kid who spilled coffee on me today!” He shouted. “I had my watch, then she shook my hand, and now the watch is gone. She totally took it!”

Clint paused the game again. “Wait, so basically some kid took your custom watch, which is worth thousands of dollars, right off your wrist, and you didn’t even notice?” Tony bobbed his head up and down frantically. “Hold on... You don’t think...” Clint glanced between the three other men in the room.

“(H/C) hair?” Steve asked.

“(E/C) eyes?” Bruce called, suddenly no longer able to focus on his work.

Tony nodded slowly with wide eyes. Reality crashed down on all three of them.

A wide smile slowly took over Clint’s face. “So you mean to tell me that three of the Avengers, the Earth’s greatest defenders, got scammed by the same teenage girl in less than a month?” The three men were silent, each of them staring at the ground as they started to question how smart they actually were.

About 30 seconds later, the silence was broken. “Nat, you’ll never believe what just happened. I can’t believe you weren’t home for this,” Clint talked excitedly into the phone while his teammates all slowly left the room to sulk alone.

------- Time Skip -------

It had been a whole month since I had gotten the watch off Tony Stark. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the amount of zeros on the offer the pawn shop had given me. It was probably one of the best days of my life. Immediately, I had gone out and bought myself a meal at an actual restaurant, and let me tell you, they weren’t kidding when they said restaurant food is delicious. Every protein bar and bag of chips in the world couldn’t live up to the food I ate that day. And with that kind of money, I could be eating like that for maybe even a year! Still, I knew what I had to do.

It was almost Christmas. With the money I’d just gotten, I could afford to buy each and every kid at the orphanage actual brand new presents that year, instead of the crummy second-hand stuff that had to be shared between three or four kids that I usually brought. So, I went out and blew a good three quarters of my new budget on toys, and not the kind from thrift shops or even the ones from the big department stores. I could finally get them toys from one of the fancy stores that had display windows. And it was worth it, too, seeing the pure amazement that lit up those kids’ eyes when they saw there was enough for all of them. I then spent another quarter of the money on nonperishable foods that I donated to the homeless shelter plus one massive turkey for their Christmas feast.

After all of that, I was left with around 20 dollars for myself. Usually I can make money like that last with just a few extra marks, but as the month dragged on and less and less people were out on the streets at night, my budget ran thin. Eventually, I reached my breaking point. I’d gone I think four days now without any food. My stomach growled loudly, begging me to give it something, anything. I just sighed and receded further into the fabric of my thin, worn down coat that I’d found a few days back by a dumpster -- the coat I used to wear long traded in for a couple spare dollars. Sure, the wind cut through it like a knife, but hell, it was better than nothing.

I glanced up as I heard the crunching of footsteps in the snow, my heard immediately leaping into my throat at the prospect of there being people out. I frowned when I saw who they were. A couple walking together, chatting away about something or another. Normally, I would never choose a couple to target -- it was too easy for one of them to spot what I was doing to the other -- but I had gotten desperate. I was freezing cold, and I needed food now.

So, I walked directly towards them and crashed my shoulder into the guy’s, my hand slipping into his pocket. I thanked whatever higher power was watching over me when my hand came into contact with a money clip.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and slipped my hand back out before continuing to walk at a casual pace away from the two, tucking the clip into my pocket.

-- 3rd Person POV --

“Well that was rude,” Clint huffed, dusting himself off.

Natasha stared at the back of the young girl who continued to walk away like nothing had happened. “Hey, Clint,” she muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your wallet?”

“I put it back in my... pocket....” Clint froze when he realized he couldn’t feel the familiar clip in his jacket pocket. He whirled around to look at the girl, who was already a ways away. “Hey! Get back here!” He screamed, breaking into a run, Natasha quickly following suit.

-- Your POV --

“Hey! Get back here!” I glanced back with wide eyes, my heart leaping into my throat before immediately sprinting.

I ran through the snow, turning right and left through back alleys and narrow shortcuts, thanking my past self for never eating well, as my skinny form was able to stay on top of the snow for the most part. Still, somehow I hadn’t lost the two adults chasing me yet. They had barely fallen a foot or two behind over the last eight blocks. My stamina was quickly running out, the malnourishment over the past week finally catching up to me. I felt dizzy, and my chest burned as I focused on continuing to put one foot in front of the other. I turned down an alleyway with a brick wall at the end.

“Ha! We’ve finally caught you!” The man behind me panted. I completely ignored him, not pausing a single step as I sprinted towards the wall.

“Uhh, hey, kid? Rock beats teenager...” He called warily. I continued to ignore him. I was only five feet away. “Stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself!” he shouted just before I jumped, pressing my feet into the bricks to launch my further and further up. I reached as high as I could and just barely caught the edge of the wall with my fingertips. I swung my other arm up and forced my arms to pull myself to the top.

I panted as I gazed down from the top of the wall, the couple staring back up at me. “Holy shit,” the man muttered, to which the woman immediately smacked him in the arm.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I was hungry.” I wasn’t really sure why I was apologizing. Granted, I knew what I was doing wasn’t very nice, but I don’t recall ever apologizing before. Maybe it’s because they reminded me of my parents -- or, at least, what I imagined my parents to be like. Maybe it’s because I was so dizzy that I couldn’t really think straight. I nodded slightly to the two before turning around, preparing myself to jump down the other side.

Suddenly, a massive wave of dizziness and nausea smacked me in the face. I groaned slightly and put my hand to my forehead, trying to get a hold of myself. Evidently, that didn’t work, because the next thing I knew, I was falling.

Time seemed to slow as I fell through the air. I probably shouldn’t pass out right now, the surprisingly calm thought entered my mind. If I do, I’ll most likely just freeze to death. Then again, passing out would save me a lot of pain from falling. Alright, I guess that’s it then. I’ll pass out now and hope I wake up in time to not die. My eyes fluttered closed just before I hit the ground, the fog in my brain thickening as I finally allowed myself to just give in to it.

-- 3rd Person POV --

Clint grunted as he caught the girl. He was expecting to fall to the ground with her, only really serving to break her fall, but was surprised to find that she wasn’t even heavy enough to knock him down. Natasha made her way over to his side, looking down at the little thief in her friend’s arms.

“She’s light as a feather,” Clint murmured with a frown on his face, “and freezing to the touch.”

“She said she was hungry,” Natasha muttered thoughtfully.

Clint grit his teeth and nodded, determined. “Alright, that settles it. We’re taking her back to the tower.”

Natasha glanced at him warily. “You sure? The others might not be so accepting.”

“They’re gonna have to be,” he stated, already walking back, holding the girl as close as he could in an attempt to warm her up.

#Avengers #avengers one shot #avengers imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x y/n

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pixiedoodlein · 3 years

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I’ve been going back and forth agonizing over the school thing. It’s not just school, it’s a whole satellite of other risk assessments and considerations and life choices. The school superintendent emailed me back. He was polite but no he isn’t offering virtual school, not unless it’s ordered by the governor. In theory she could safely go to school, if the school has implemented all possible precautions. Which they haven’t. Precautions as far as I can tell are desks 3 feet apart and masks. (I don’t think the ventilation systems have been overhauled, and staff are not mandated to vax here). So my gut is telling me to not send her. Cases keep going up. We are so close to kids getting vaccinated. It won’t solve everything but it’ll help. We were so careful in the beginning, when kids were not at serious risk. Now they are, so why not go back to being so careful? I should go back to being so careful, ie no in-person school, for the first couple months of this school year, and hopefully the situation will be better in a few months. It also means no more taking baby into stores. I took him into the supermarket today and was a nervous wreck- a lot of masked shoppers but a lot of unmasked shoppers, droves. Making that change, not shopping with him, going back to grocery pickup, is the easiest change. The other changes are harder. If I’m working FT at a new job I want to excel at, I can’t be the parent primarily responsible for schooling. A said he can do it. We just started up his biz and he needs to devote time to that and all the projects are things that can’t be don’t from home, but until the kids are vaccinated (until she is in school and he is daycare) we could scale back on what kinds of projects he does, limit it to small ones he can do on weekends vs more of a FT schedule (ie restore the library of a victorian home versus restore an entire public library). A said if schooling is mostly on him, he’d rather homeschool than virtual (not that the school here is offering virtual, it would be something we pay for). He is not tech savvy and our budding compound is the perfect environment for him to do homeschool with her, a lot of learning can happen in our forest with little guy and the puppy running around with them. He’d do all the subjects except language arts, that one I’m claiming (he is severely dyslexic, she is already a much better speller than he is). So it looks like we are back to homeschool, back to really limiting how often any of us, especially little guy, interacts with the public.

The much, much harder change to make is our relationship with the neighbors. It’s been okay that they had different feelings about covid risk than us because covid wasn’t spreading here, none of their kids were in camp or school, none of the adults worked much outside of the home in risky settings. Now covid is spreading shockingly fast here, their kids are going back to school, and the mom is about to return from maternity leave to in-person work, in a very high-risk setting. The particulars of my assessment of their changing risk status would sound classist, and is, but is also hard fact. A and I are going to have a really honest conversation with the parents and grandparents and explain that we don’t expect them to change their behaviors but we are changing ours, and this is why (the data, what doctors we’ve asked are telling us, our experience of what works to not contract covid from living in other hotspots and not contracting covid). We’re going to tell them that we love them so much and we love how things are right now (last night they came here for bbq on the deck, it was so, so much fun; I snuggled their baby and it almost made me want one; M did tie dye at their house today then all the girls came back here for a sleepover, they run around laughing and playing together all day every day and I love it, we all do, they share clothes and argue like sisters, it is the best, they are the best neighbors ever, they are a godsend and a massive piece of our lives here) but until our kids are vaccinated we need to limit hanging out to outdoors, no sleepovers, outdoors even for the vaccinated adults in the crew, and our child will be wearing a mask outdoors, it’s up to to them whether their kids do too.

March 2020 lockdown life, operating in theatre as if our lives depend on it (bad joke), here we come. Maybe this will be the season I finally master bread.

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yelenassecretlover · 3 years

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college au [sfw] pt 1

anime: my hero academia

characters: aizawa, overhaul

a/n: no quirks in this au :P, send me request yall my big brain can only come up with so much lol

Overhaul

The one who sits in the back of the lecture hall. He knows the freshman and try hards are going to cram themselves near the front and he wants to stay as far away from them as possible

Still manages to get all the notes and then some, how he does it no one knows. His notebook is much more thorough then the textbook, in fewer words as well

Never raises his hand (if he has a question an email will be sent to the professor but never anything more) goes without saying but his presence is only made known when he’s forced into group presentations. (And oh how he despises those)

“tch getting placed with a bunch of good for nothing overgrown germs…just my luck”

Well known on campus but not positively, mostly known as the one guy you don’t fuck with (no matter how hot he is, those tattoos on his arms spell trouble). He’s never gotten into any altercations but people rather not find out why everyone else avoids him.

He still somehow manages to be somewhat invisible, this is due to the fact he doesn’t participate in any school clubs or events. He doesn’t need to worry about securing a job after college when he’s already on the path to inherit the shie hassaikai company. (Some say the company’s affiliated with yakuza and a load of other illegal shit but those are just rumors)

4.0 gpa, this man is on his way to be valedictorian of his class. If there’s an extra credit assignment as long as it’s not a group one he’ll do it

Does not live in the schools library does all his studying off campus in an apartment pops got for him

Begged pops to let him join the company early as he can study and work but pops refused, wanted him to have a social life— that he does not have but at least pops tried

Does not go to parties, Chisaki Kai in a party is unheard of. What business does he have in such a space, tightly packed, sweaty bodies, if he wanted a virus he would just lick the public sidewalk

Is slightly envious of his counterparts and their ability to just befriend one another. However, his germaphobia and disdain for others not in his close circle often override the jealousy

Dresses to the nines everyday, all decked out in designer in a tasteful way. Not noticeable unless your knowledgeable on high end fashion, looks amazing.

Extremely fast walker, this man be zoomin across campus. The faster he walks the less likely some unfortunate soul will stop him in attempts to get him to listen to whatever nonsense they’re advertising. He is saving everyone’s time and energy by doing this.

Aizawa

“Class is canceled something came up, check the syllabus for tonight’s reading assignment”

Nothing came up. He forgot to set his alarm and wanted to sleep in, a very common occurrence but his students are not complaining.

Has tenure; he’s been working at the institution for about 10 yrs.

Only 35 but the eye bags he gets from staying up reading students papers don’t help.

Japanese American literature professor, focuses on literary works created by Japanese Americans. Writing heavy course and also history heavy. He is very knowledgeable on both parts.

Although he often gives his students breaks, his class is not for the ill prepared, many do fail. He tries his best to pass students but he isn’t going to hold your hand; senior recommended course.

Ms.Joke and Mr.Mic (as nicknamed by the students) are constantly irritating him with their unannounced walk ins in the middle of his lectures, students love them but he’s trying to teach a class for gods sake

Coffe, coffee, coffee, coffeee, and did I mention coffee. A godsend really, can not get through the day without it, it’s an addiction at this point but it keeps him awake.

Lives in an apartment off campus by himself, has a few cats that keep him company. Yes, he is a cat lady and he’s proud. Sometimes shows students the cute costumes he dresses his cats in at the start of lectures.

Has an office because of the mandatory office hours the college forces him to have, but actually catching him in the office is a miracle. With the little amount of time he spends in that office it is a bit surprising to learn it looks as if a tornado hit it.

Once chewed a studnent out in the middle of class for constantly showing up late, I think his exact words were (hint hint was a certain electric⚡️ character),

“A talentless himbo with no prospects besides daddy’s money, occupying space, wasting oxygen in my classroom. If there were brain cells left in your skull perhaps you would understand my anger”

Listens to Mitski on his way to class in the mornings on a good day lorde

Yes a lot of his lectures consist in analyzing Mitski’s lyrics, and what about it? You can learn a lot from her work and he stands by it.

#overhaul #aizawa sensei #kai chisaki #mha headcanons #mha #bnha headcanons #bnha #shota aizawa #eraserhead

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

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Firestorm Part 15: But Home is Nowhere

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

Dealing with new horrible anxieties is always fun, right? Liu Kang is your godsend.

A/N: Feels like I just updated amirite lol. Love you guys, super appreciate you! I'm still having a wonderful time writing this, tbh. It is keeping me sane!

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

The library was on the smaller end but it was also busy. So busy that you couldn’t stop fixating on how busy it was. Together you walked through the stacks and around patrons to a table of six public but occupied computers. You would have to wait your turn. The table where others was waiting was practically full so you sat squashed at the end with you between Liu and Lao. Usually this would have been an overstimulation in itself but you couldn’t stop thinking about the amount of people surrounding you. You could feel your heart pounding in every extremity.

If you exploded with ink there then so many people would be hurt. You couldn’t breathe it was so stiflingly hot. You had to do this. You couldn’t melt down. None of you had the technology to do it anywhere else and you didn’t have the money for a laptop. Just a little while longer.

“Are you listening, Y/N?” Kung Lao nudged you and you fell against Liu Kang who helped you stay upright. You were otherwise completely rigid. “What? I was talking about food. Aren’t you hungry?”

“No, I didn’t and no I’m not. Don’t push me like that, okay?”

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

“Gently? I… Lao…” You held your head in your hands. “Just… don’t push me.” Kung Lao was staring at you with concern. “Just… don’t. You don’t… I-I…” Your words weren’t cooperating and you grunted in frustration and gripped your hair. Your fingers were tingling.

“It’s okay, Y/N, jeez.”

“It’s not and…”

“Lao, why don’t you keep waiting? See what you can find. Y/N needs some air.” Liu stood and offered you his hand. You shakily took it but your brain wasn’t functioning properly anymore. There were too many people and you couldn’t remember where you’d come from. “Got it?”

“Yeah, got it. Sorry, Y/N.” Kung Lao seemed sad upon realizing why you’d been so snippy. Liu Kang led you outside but even the space in front of the library was far too crowded for your liking. Your hands were trembling and going numb. Liu Kang led you around the side of the building where you sat on a metal bench along a broken path. He helped you take a seat. There were far less people there.

“Breathe,” he soothed and you did as he instructed but felt it shudder on the way out as if you were going to break into sobs. Ugh, no! This was embarrassing. You couldn’t control your emotions. This was no reason to cry! Dammit brain, why? Hands covering your face, you tried to calm down. Sobbing made it not at all easier to breathe. Liu’s comforting hand brush up and down the length of your back soothingly. He was whispering to remind you when to breathe in and out, guiding you to ground yourself.

It took a solid ten minutes but you finally calmed down and breathe though your hands were still shaking. The crying had stopped at least.

“Are you okay?” Liu seemed to already know the answer but it was nice of him to ask. You nodded but was still trembling and your nerves were shot. If you spoke then you were afraid that you might cry again. You’d had panic attacks before but it hadn’t been that bad in years. What a mess. “It’s okay not to be.”

“I’m okay.” You managed to speak but your voice was raw, like you’d been yelling and your eyes were puffy from crying. Liu held your hand, thumb brushing over the back of it while it trembled. You whined in frustration.

“I underestimated how much this impacted you.”

“I…” It was a struggle to articulate why it bothered you without melting down but Liu Kang had nothing but patience for you. “I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” You wiped your eyes again. Why did they keep betraying you with tears? You hated crying. “I’ve hurt you and Lao so many times and I’m terrified of what will happen to someone else.”

“I know.”

“It would be so much easier to hide away. To lock myself in that room and then… no one would get hurt. No one. Not you. Not anyone else. You’d be safe and everyone else would be safe and then…”

“Hey, stop. Stop it.” Liu let go of your hand and then knelt before you, resting his hands on your knees. You stopped and sniffled. His dark eyes were so serious. “Yes, it would be easier to hide away. No one would get hurt. But that would be a death sentence. We know that.”

“I’m not…”

“You are important. I need you to take care of yourself, Y/N.” Liu interrupted because you could express that it was difficult to feel important enough to put the lives of others in danger. In the grand scheme of things you were nothing but a speck. “It’s important. You’re important. I know that you’re thinking that you aren’t. I can see it on you. It’s plain as day.” You were pretty sure that your tongue had swollen up to fill the gap in your throat. “The fact is, Y/N, that you are just as important as we are.”

“I don’t think I could live with myself if something happened to these people.” You managed in a faint whisper. Your voice felt weak.

“I don’t know if I can live without you so… you have to find a way to fight.” His confession made your heart pound so hard in your chest you thought it might escape. You weren’t that important. You couldn’t be! “You can’t get lost in the bad that might happen. Nothing might happen. And good things will certainly happen. There’s no way of knowing but the fear of what might happen can’t cripple you. I won’t let it take you away from me.”

“Liu…” Your heart had plummeted into your stomach and that was where it lived. Its new home.

“I know that it’s selfish of me to put it that way but…” He moistened his lips and it was a hypnotic action. “If that will help you understand how important you are then I am happy to be selfish.” You swallowed the lump in your throat but your words had more than gone. Liu got up from his knees and sat next to you on the bench, turning you toward him. His hand engulfed your cheek and it gave you the shivers. You were reminded of the many times where he had nearly kissed you in those first few weeks. His thumb brushed just over the corner of your lips and then traced your lower lip completely before tugging it just enough to part your lips. “I want to show you how important you are.” His whisper almost seemed against his will as he had no control over it. To think that you made him lose his careful control was astounding.

His hot breath against your lips was tantalizing and you wanted more than ever to kiss him. But if you kissed him then it would become more than just a kiss and you weren’t in the kind of place where it could become more than that without trouble.

“Liu…” He had distracted you from your panic, that was for sure.

“I know, it’s a dangerous impulse.” He seemed almost in disbelief, pushing his hair back. But then he seemed to throw caution to the wind and leaned to kiss you, hand beneath your chin. But as his lips brushed just against yours, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Liu? Y/N?” Kung Lao was somewhere around the corner looking for you. Instinctually you pulled apart and scooted a little away from each other but your heart was pounding in your ears for a far different reason. This dangerous tension with Liu Kang was enough to make you sweat. “There you guys are. I was worried.” He rounded the corner and then smiled.

“Were you able to find a copy of Y/N’s birth certificate? Or view it online?” Liu seemed flustered but Kung Lao hadn’t noticed.

“Uh, no actually.” He smiled in a way that showed off his deep dimples.

“Why not? Is it the familial thing? Need an ID or…?”

“Well…” He inhaled sharply and then exhaled in a hiss. “I looked you up, Y/N, and there’s no record of you being born here.”

“What?” You and Liu spoke in unison.

“In Korea.”

“What?” You repeated.

“So, I tried looking in China after that because I thought maybe you were misremembering.”

“I didn’t misremember.”

“You’re absolutely right because… there’s no record of you there either. The only stuff I could find about you on Google was tournaments you’d participated in and your death in the local paper.” Kung Lao sat on the other side of you. “Now for an important question. Are you sure that you were born?”

What were you supposed to say? Obviously you’d been born. You looked down at your hands and then back to Kung Lao who was trying not to laugh at you. How absurd! You weren’t going to dignify that with a response.

“Okay, okay. Very funny, Lao.” Liu chuckled, slipping his arm behind you on the bench, the tips of his fingers just brushing over the back of your shoulder. “This is odd though.”

“Do you think that’s why Raiden sent us to look? Because there’s no record of my existence apparently?” You were now feeling lost on top of everything else. Even if Liu Kang had distracted you, you were still off. The sexual tension hadn’t erased your anxiety. What did it mean that you couldn’t find your birth records? It was like you’d been erased from existence outside of a few wins back when you would compete. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe it was misfiled or your name was misspelled. It could have been anything.

“I don’t know. Don’t get discouraged, Y/N.” Liu smiled sympathetically.

“We’ll figure it out.” Lao chimed in hopefully.

“Well, what next? I can’t go ask my family because I’m supposed to be dead. And Kung Lao can’t go and ask because he’s supposed to be dead.” You pouted and then turned back to Liu Kang. Kung Lao leaned around you to do the same.

“If it comes down to it then I’ll go and speak with your family. But we’re here so we should do our due diligence.”

“Raiden said that we should look into your history so what about your extended family? What about your grandparents? The ones who live here in Korea. You mentioned them when we were kids. You hadn’t met them.”

“Yeah, I never got to. I figured since I was estranged from my mom by the end that they didn’t want to see me either.” You shrugged. “But mom grew up here so there should be records of them somewhere. If we can find them then maybe we can ask them some questions. They wouldn’t recognize me. I don’t look that much like my mom, honestly.”

“Well, that’s as good a plan as any.” Liu sighed.

“Food first. I’m starved.” Lao insisted.

Next Chapter >>

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hermit-pistol · 4 years

Text

Rohan Kishibe Fluff Alphabet:

The second full alphabet is finally finished, woohoo! This one goes out to all of my Rohan lovers- Make sure to like, reblog, and click under the cut! It means a lot!

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Rohan will want to show you the things that he’s passionate about, and that mainly includes his artwork and enjoying art together! When you want to get out of the house, you guys enjoy walks in the park. Fresh air does you well.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He really loves your attention to detail. If he parts his hair differently? You're going to notice. If he draws a manga panel with an extra that looks eerily similar to your likeness? Of course, you're going to notice.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

In theory, he figures that he'd be inconvenienced, but once it actually happens his tune changes real quick. He soon realizes that when in a relationship, selfishness isn't an option. His arms will be open, all he's waiting for you to do is to run into them.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Rohan's forte isn't long term thinking. Unlike the issues of his manga, life can't be planned out and anticipated. He does see himself with you in the foreseeable future, though. For the present, he treasures each day he spends with you.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

You would think that Rohan would be dominant in the relationship, given his fiery, sassy personality. Instead, he's quite passive when it comes to decision making. He's been with you long enough that he can let down his guard and be his authentic self around you.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Verbal altercations are prominent in this relationship. It can either be petty or a big blowout, and Rohan usually makes it a show by slamming doors and hiding in his office. He's extremely stubborn, but every fight you have eventually gets solved.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He really appreciates the fact that you put up with him, honestly. He feels like he is such a burden and protects himself by being moody and lashing out at others. You know that he appreciates when you spend time with him and help him grow as a person.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Rohan doesn't really have a reason to hide anything, besides major spoilers for his upcoming chapters (He wants it to he a surprise when you read). BUT, that being said, he has such a fat mouth. Don't tell him anything you don't want all of Morioh to know about.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Echoing themes in B and C, he is inspired to be more giving around you (and less selfish). Also, if we're talking literal inspiration there's a chance that there might be a new character showing up in Pink Dark Boy that looks a lot like you...

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Rohan definitely faces issues with jealousy, to the point where he would become paranoid and make false accusations. It's one of his fatal flaws, and in order to make the relationship work, he needs to learn to trust.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Rohan is definitely an awkward kisser at first. Although he talks a big game, he is still quite unsure of himself and might need some guidance at first. You more than likely will have to initiate the act most times, but once he’s gotten used to the feeling he’ll want to take the lead.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He would sit with himself for quite a while to figure out what he wants out of the relationship. He most likely has never used the "L" word with anyone before, and that makes him extremely nervous. You would be eating dinner together when he tells you how he truly feels, and oh how overjoyed you are.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Rohan would marry you having several years of dating. He thought that he would end up alone since he was holed up in his house all day, but finding and having you was a godsend. You would move into his home, and Rohan wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Rohan doesn't get too colorful with nicknames, it's a pet peeve of his when he overhears people going overboard with their terms of affection. Really, who shows their love by calling your s/o love muffin?! He just can't understand. Your name works fine.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

At first, it's a sense of giddiness that he just can't pinpoint. Once he learns the reason for his feelings, he isn't really sure how to properly deal with them. Josuke gets on his nerves through his teasing though, since the way he's feeling is so transparent.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

As mentioned before, Rohan is very observant of how others are when in relationships. In his own, he wants to make sure that he doesn't fall into the same "traps". Only hand-holding in public, nothing more. (He'll totally brag in front of the Duwang gang though)

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

His memory. As an author, he has to remember so many things. Why would being in a relationship be any different? Every special moment he has with you will be cataloged, and when it comes around next year he'll never forget the (deadline) date.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He finds little ways to show his love to you. One way that he loves to spend time with you is by showing you how to draw. He’ll place his hand over yours as the pen dances across the paper. Although, you’ll never be as great as the mighty Rohan Kishibe. Creative for sure!

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Rohan may be rather grumpy and show the epitome of tough love, but whatever you choose to pursue he'll be backing you all the way. He teaches you to not be afraid of rejection and tries to make his experience as a mangaka applicable. You have his support for sure.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He doesn't really feel the need to change the way things are. It's the casual outings that he values most, really. He'd rather get groceries with you or a book from the library than sky diving or something adventurous any day.

U nderstanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

One of Rohan's downfalls and something that he needs to work on is realizing when his partner is feeling down and out. While it's good to be in touch with your own feelings, now that he's in a relationship, there's another person's feelings to take into account. It's something that he'll need to work on and improve. (Hang in there, Rohan!)

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Before he met you, he was completely content with living and being alone. He's just grown used to being by himself. When he met you; however, things changed a lot. If you left him, there would be a gaping void that he definitely never noticed there before. You're his world, basically.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Rohan adores when you make him a homecooked meal. Before you met him, he was basically living off of take-out and fast food (how did he not gain weight?). Anyway, there's not a single recipe you've made that he doesn't like. For a present, you were planning on making him a book of your best recipes and trying them out together.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Rohan may complain all the way, but he secretly loves to be cuddled. He actually prefers to be the little spoon and feeling your arms around him. Prepare to not get up for hours; he feels so secure in your embrace.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Since he works from home, you're most likely the one who's away most of the time. He says that he'll be fine, but that's not true at all. He relies on the power of technology while he waits for you to get home, but of course, he would rather be talking to you in person. He has a lot of photographs that he looks at too.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Besides his fashion sense (epic burn), Rohan isn't really a flashy individual. He wouldn't do anything too extravagant in the relationship, because he knows that you would think he was trying too hard. If anything, he keeps his public and private life separate, since he values his privacy.

#anotha day....anotha alphabet #apologies on the wait #enjoy sassy rohan #jojos bizarre adventure #jojos bizzare adventure x reader #jojo #jjba #jojo heacanons #jjba headcanons #Rohan Kishibe #still can't believe all of you voted for rohan #STILL #rohan kishibe x reader #fluff alphabet #600 Follower Special

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dustofbrokenheart · 3 years

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The Covenant: Study Habits

Pogue Parry x Reader

Word Count: 2,095

Summary: You are stressing about finals and need to study. When Pogue graciously volunteers to be your study buddy, you don’t refuse the offer.

Silence and solitude, you decided, were your ideal conditions for studying for finals. Spencer Academy was a fairly serious institution given its status as a prep school, but the library and various common areas tended to transform into social scenes, especially during this point in the semester. As much as you enjoyed the chatter and laughs, you really needed to study in order to pass your physics final and make the honor roll.

At first you tried moving your studying to your dorm, which was definitely quieter, but it didn’t exactly give off study vibes either. It was way too easy to take a nap or raid your snack stash or eavesdrop on conversations that were happening in the hallway.

You looked and looked for a good spot and you finally found it in the discovery of the school’s shop classroom. Not many students at Spencer took wood or metal shop that you were aware of and you were a little surprised those classes were offered at all. The room itself was tucked away in a dim basement that shared space with random storage rooms and an unused bomb shelter, a relic leftover from the 1940s.

The day you found it was also the day you found out that the room’s door wasn’t locked by the teacher, which wasn’t good from a security standpoint, but made entering very easy for you whenever you dropped by after hours to study.

Being a shop classroom, it was mostly open space and machinery, not unlike a garage situation. You were extra careful not to disturb any of the projects-in-progress, even though some of them looked really cool, and avoided all of the tools, most of which you couldn’t name much less identify.

But there were a couple of waist high counter tables along one wall so you could sit down. The height was just right where you could alternate between sitting on a stool and standing on your feet which was honestly better for your circulation. Most importantly, it was abandoned at this time of night and that meant no distractions.

The sneaking around continued for a couple of days until your anxiety had had enough, prompting you to find out the teacher’s information so that you could email them and ask formal permission to use the room when school wasn’t in session. Mr. Clarke seemed happy enough to let you use it and you decided you liked him even though you had never met in person.

It wasn’t even until the second week of studying down there that you finally saw someone other than yourself. You had just finished dinner and made the trek from the dorms to the shop room when you noticed them. A radio played softly in the distance but as you got closer and closer to your spot, you figured out that it was coming from the room.

You paused just outside the door and debated whether you should still go in or not; you really needed to get through some practice problems, but would you still be as productive if someone else was in there? You really should do these problems. Besides, maybe the other person would leave soon.

The metal handle clicked as you opened the door.

A small boombox was blaring some Green Day out of its speakers and figure in a black tee sat next to it fiddling with a hand drill.

Wanting to get his attention before the drill started up you cleared your throat loudly.

Beautiful hazel eyes locked onto you immediately and you felt a little breathless. That was before he turned fully around and you were better able to appreciate his toned chest and arms through the black fabric of his shirt, small barely detectable sawdust particles attached themselves to his jeans.

“Hey there,” he greeted with a raised hand.

Of all people to run into you couldn’t believe that it was Pogue Parry, one of, and in your opinion, the student body’s top eye candies. Dazzled, all you managed was a timid wave back.

He cocked his head, his shaggy hair falling slightly to the side. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Come on, Y/N. Get it together and answer the boy.

“Actually, we have—”

“Physics together,” he finished with a smile. “I know. I meant down here in the shop.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. He recognized you! A Son of Ipswich noticed that you were in a class with him and you were so excited that you managed to ignore the fact that you had misunderstood him. “You’re right about that. I’ve only been coming here for, like, a week. I got permission to study here.”

“Cool. Mr. Clarke is a sweetheart so I’m not surprised.”

Trying to get back on track you asked, “How long do you think you’ll be working on that?”

Both of you looked at the drill.

“You probably want it quiet, huh? I can stop for today, this is just a side project I’m doing anyway, it’s gonna be a tv stand when it’s done. Definitely not as important as a final.”

As much as you felt bad for interrupting him and essentially taking over his spot, you took him up on his offer. He was now the hottest and kindest classmate in your mind. You dropped you backpack on the floor and spread your papers across the countertop trying your best to sneak peeks at Pogue where he was cleaning up a few feet away.

When he finished, he walked over. “What class are you studying for?”

“Physics.”

“No way!” He pulled up a stool and straddled it opposite of you.

It made you nervous to have him watch you write and when he pointed out a mistake you made, you felt like crawling into a hole. The eraser left behind eraser shavings as you corrected the error.

“Hey, wanna work together?” he asked either not noticing your embarrassment or choosing to ignore it.

“Sure,” you said with a shaky voice.

“Cool.”

He wasted no time and grabbed his own copy of the packet, clicking open a pen, ready to go.

You moved to the next problem and read it out loud.

“A block weighing 200 N is pushed along a surface. If it takes 80 N to get the block moving and 40 N to keep the block moving at a constant velocity, what are the coefficients of friction μs and μk?”

Pogue hunched over, quickly working it out when he noticed you sitting still, rubbing the end of your pencil against your mouth. Scooching over to your side of the counter he showed you his work and walked you through his steps.

“Wow, you’re really good at this.”

He laughed off the compliment. “Nah, I promise you I’m a pretty stupid student.”

“But you finished this problem in under a minute,” you insisted. “Meanwhile, I would’ve been stuck for hours and still have gotten it wrong.”

He stared at you and even though you couldn’t get a good read on him, it was too easy to get lost in his eyes. Eventually, he spoke.

“I don’t want to throw off your groove of anything, but maybe we can study together.”

Was this a dream? Because an invitation like that only happened in your fantasies.

“But I don’t know how that benefits you—you seem to a good handle on it already,” you admitted.

“As I told you, stupid student. Besides, my study habits are non-existent so maybe some of yours will rub off.”

You beamed at him, easily convinced. “Well then let’s go over the first problem again because I’m still confused...”

Every night for the next seven days Pogue met you in the basement and walked with you to the classroom for your study session. Despite not having a high opinion towards his academic abilities, he was very patient and effective tutor/partner.

“Wait, remember to multiply the variables in the parenthesis before subtracting it from the total. PEMAS is your friend Y/N.”

He was also very easy to talk to. Whenever he talked about his bike or swim regimen, two things you knew nothing about, he took the time to put it into words you understood without making you feel like an idiot. And when you were feeling chatty, he would actively take an interest in what you had to say.

“Hunger pains after a swim workout are the worst, especially after long swims where your aerobic systems are gassed. It feels like you’re one stomach growl away from wasting away.”

“Oh, speaking of food, I found a granola recipe. I don’t know who decide to mix coconut and cranberries with granola, but that palate combination amazing. I’ll bring you some if it turns out alright.”

“You’d better save me some then, even if it’s not to your ridiculously high standards. I can feed some to the boys, too.”

Time flew by and it didn’t feel like the studying had gone on for a whole week. Each session seemed to pass faster as you got to know him better, to see the him that didn’t have to be filtered for the public eye. You liked this side of him even better than what you have seen of him in class and in the halls.

But all things come to an end. On the last session before the final, you guys finally finished the last question in the review packet with a grateful exhale.

“You sir, are a physics godsend. I can’t believe we’re done with the whole review guide.”

“I hope the final isn’t as long as the guide is. He must’ve stuck every problem we did during the semester in this thing,” he complained.

“I really hope not,” you groaned. Because if it was, there was no way you would finished within the allotted one-hour period.

“But, I have a feeling you’re going to crush the exam. Just try your best not the set the curve too high, for the rest of our sakes.”

You playfully shoved him for the last part of his comment. Silence stretched on and you realized that this was the last time you guys were scheduled to study together. Fast on the heels of that thought was another: you didn’t want to leave. By the way he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave, you hoped that meant he was reluctant as well.

“So…” he trailed off and you waited with bated breath. “Guess we should pack up, it’s almost nine.”

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment at his words. “Yeah, I guess.”

For a second, you were tempted to ask him out, or at least see if he wanted to hang out as friends, but you decided against it. He was the type that would’ve spoken up if he were interested. Best just to act dignified and be thankful that he bothered helping you in the first place.

You were steps away from walking out the door when he stopped you by grabbing your hand.

“Actually, what I meant to ask is if you want to get a bite to eat after the test tomorrow. Is that weird?”

Your pulse fluttered in obvious joy.

“You mean like a date?” you breathed.

“Yeah. You’re a pretty cool, Y/N, and I’d be sad if this is the last time we hang out.”

“I would love to,” you assured him with a huge smile on your face.

He reached to slowly envelope you in a hug, and even if the angle was a little awkward due to the backpacks being in the way, you automatically hugged back. You were thrilled to discover that he smelled like an exotic mix of leather and, dare you say, magic.

You were even more thrilled when he walked you back to the dorms like the sweet boy you had observed him to be over the past week. Luckily there weren’t any people loitering out in the hallway because if word got out that a Son of Ipswich had walked you to your room, the whole school would know by morning and you were enjoying the moment far too much to have to worry about that.

“Good luck tomorrow. See you on the flip side,” he said in parting.

That night you laid in bed but felt like you were on cloud nine. In less than twenty-four hours, you would be done with physics for the semester and have had a date with Pogue Parry. Pogue Parry! You snuggled into your pillow and swore his scent still lingered freshly in your nose.

_______________

I was super inspired yesterday and wrote this. Good luck to everyone that’s prepping for final exams! Thanks for reading.

#the covenant #pogue parry #pogue parry x reader #imagines

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imo-chan-imagines · 4 years

Text

『 Random acts of kindness | Haikyuu!! Headcanons 』

The everyday acts of kindness our boys do and think nothing of, but are actually incredibly sweet.

Characters: Sawamura Daichi, Kuroo Tetsurou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Iwaizumi Hajime, Sugawara Koushi, Bokuto Koutarou, Azumane Asahi, Oikawa Tooru, Akaashi Keiji, Nishinoya Yuu, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Kozume Kenma, Miya Astumu, Miya Osamu, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Hinata Shouyou, Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Haiba Lev

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), no warnings, fluff, lots of characters I didn't realise how many I'd done until I came to type up the list 😳, a lot of cats and dogs, cuteness, headcanons

A/N: I've had an exhausting and busy week, and just felt like writing some comforting fluff. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy! ♡

And please consider voting in this poll (ends this Sunday 18/10/20) to help me celebrate reaching 100 followers! Thank you to everyone who's already voted! ♡

☆ Sawamura Daichi ☆

Helps lost people find their way and regularly gives directions

We're talking off-duty, here Daichi puts the 'hot' in 'Hot Fuzz' 🥵

Hahaha, fuck 🙃

He's very approachable and warm, and gives excellent directions

He'll also walk them there if they don't understand or don't feel confident, even if it disrupts his day 🥺

And he's really good at helping lost kids and calming them down he feels so proud when he gets them back to their parents, safe and sound 🤗

☆ Kuroo Testurou ☆

Helps elderly people with their shopping bags and getting across roads

It goes against his nature to stand by and let an old person struggle, and even if they're not struggling, he always offers his services anyway

He has a soft spot for old people, 'kay? 🥺

He makes a point of getting the traffic to stop so it's safe, and letting them hold his arm as they slowly make their way across the street

They often tell him that he's 'a very sweet and handsome young man,' and 'nothing like the other young people you meet these days' and he blushes

☆ Ushijima Wakatoshi ☆

Gets things from the top shelves for people that they can't reach at the supermarket

It's a pretty normal thing to do, right? So he's chill about it

Except he will 100% walk down the entire length of the isle just to help if he sees you stuggling it's super cute 😩😍

But he won't smile or make idle conversation, or anything. He'll just nod courteously

It can be a little ominous, with his looming height and serious face, but most people take the gesture well 😊

☆ Iwaizumi Hajime ☆

Pays for the shopping of the person in front of him when their card gets declined or they don't have the right cash

He manages to offer in a way that isn't offensive or patronising he's honestly a life saver 🥺

He's very humble and casual about it

It's what he hopes someone would do for him, if he were in that awkward situation

And you never know what struggles people are facing, so his philosophy is to always be kind what goes around, comes around, my dudes 😌✌

☆ Sugawara Koushi ☆

Leaves snacks and a cute thank you note on the porch for the mailman

Or mailwoman! Or mailperson!

He hopes that the little gesture will brighten their tough day of work so precious, I can't 🥺🥰

There's usually a good selection, too no skimping here, no sirree 😌

If he's home, he'll give them a cheery wave through the window as well

Especially in this COVID-19 environment. Suga would really appreciate the services they're providing

☆ Bokuto Koutarou ☆

Spends time every week playing with the cats and dogs at the local shelters

This man is hoenstly a blessing, I physically can't 🤧

He loves seeing their little faces light up when he walks in, scruffling their ears and playing fetch, etc. and just generally showing them that they're still loved 🥺😭

And he helps take the dogs for walks too, so they get their exercise, and brushes them down, and rubs their tummies–

He wants to adopt, but he's not settled enough, so he knows he can't 😭 but it's his goal

One day 😖

☆ Azumane Asahi ☆

Always holds doors open for other people

We're not just talking the occasional, feebly held door

Asahi will ALWAYS hold a door open for anyone else

Men, women, children, old people, people with prams, whole families– literally everyone

He is TALL and STRONG, and he will be USEFUL

He will hold it open even if you're really far away, like the giant dork that he is 😂😂 you cannot escape

☆ Oikawa Tooru ☆

Often pays for the next customer's coffee in advance

Sure, it makes him feel good about himself. But, I mean, why not? What's so wrong with that?

Oikawa calls it SAOK-ing people (pronounced 'soaking') meaning: Secret Acts of Kindness Iwa-chan has told him to change the name, but he won't 🙄

Oikawa would love the touching joy of a stranger paying for his coffee in advance, so he gets a warm, tingly feeling when he thinks about it happening to someone else because if him he's literally beaming for the rest of the day 🥰

☆ Akaashi Keiji ☆

Buys food and drinks for homeless people when he passes them

He sometimes stops to have a chat with them, too 😔🤧

He's the least condescending person you could meet if you're in trouble he's so genuine, I can't

Except for maybe Iwa-chan and Daichi. They're also very down-to-earth

He'll also give them all his food vouchers that he's been collecting in his wallet to help spread their costs

Akaashi finds it hard to watch other people struggling and suffering, and so always makes the time for it when he can afford to

☆ Nishinoya Yuu ☆

Helps make up the numbers for the kids playing games in the park

Be it soccer, dodgeball, basketball, volleyball, tag, or something else entirely, Noya loves to see the kids running around in the park, playing games and enjoying themselves

So he's only too happy to join in when they need more players he'll sometimes recruit Tanaka to help as well

Yuu fits right in with them, both in height and mentality 😂😭😂😭

He may or may not get them to call him 'senpai' 🙄😂

☆ Tanaka Ryuunosuke ☆

Helps fix people's cars on the road

Tanaka's one of those people that knows how to change a flat, and so can't drive past someone having car trouble without stopping and helping

He's also a pretty good handy-man in general, and is always willing to help out his friends and neighbours with their jobs that need doing

Like plumbing problems, putting up shelves, building furniture, etc. He's good with his hands!

Kiyoko: 👁👄👁

And he'll never charge a penny! He's all too happy to do it out of friendship and the kindness of his heart 😇

☆ Kozume Kenma ☆

Hosts gaming charity livestreams for various causes on a regualr basis

All the donations go directly to the charity of choice for the stream, not through him, so everyone knows it's legit 😇

He also donates gaming consoles etc. to charities and organisations that help kids who are in hospital

He's a huge advocate for charities and organisations that focus on helping people through gaming, like AbleGamers and St Jude PLAY LIVE, and regularly donates to them

Honestly, Kenma is an angel 🥺 👉👈

☆ Miya Atsumu ☆

Gives up his seat on public transport for old/pregnant/disabled etc. people

Look, Tsumu can be a little selfish and grouchy at times, but he's not a complete asshole 👉👈

There's a line, and hogging seats on public transport when someone else clearly needs it more than him is, indeed, the line 😌

He'll do it without a second thought or a fuss, and with a smile on his face but will be low-key proud of himself, ngl

He will also get offended if someone else doesn't give up their seat when they should, and may confront them about it 😳 like, what makes you so special that you can't do that simple courtesy that even he does??

☆ Miya Osamu ☆

Donates food to charities and shelters

Both store-bought food and from his own shop

Literally gets so depressed at the thought of people not getting to eat 🥺

This man LOVES FOOD. And people are out there not able to?!

He also has a scheme set up where homeless and stuggling people can come into his shop for some free onigiri

This man 🥺🤧 can I please marry him already?!

☆ Sakusa Kiyoomi ☆

Donates sanitary supplies like soap, toothpaste, antibacterial gel, pads, tampons, etc. to shelters on a regualr basis

Literally cannot abide the idea that people are forced to live without these basic necessities, simply because they can't afford them

It's almost for his own peace of mind rather than theirs? 😅😂 almost. He does actually care on their behalf, too

But he doesn't like to make a big deal out of it, and so donates anonymously

His donations are literally a godsend to those people, though 🥺😭

☆ Hinata Shouyou ☆

Reads books to kids at the library when he's there with Natsu

And he's really good at it! He reads very animatedly, and really gets the kids engaged with the stories you can just imagine it

The kids all love him and bring him their favourite books to read!

And the parents all watch and compliment him on how good he is with kids

And this goofball just blushes and grins like a doof 😚 so freaking sweet

☆ Kageyama Tobio ☆

Always carries a spare umbrella with him to give to someone

He hates getting caught in the rain himself, so he keeps a spare just in case this precious baby 🥺

He's had to use it quite a few times, sometimes giving it to people he doesn't even know, so he ends up not getting it back and has to buy a new spare

But it makes him smile, if a bit awkwardly, to know that he's helped someone out, even just a little Tobio!! 😭🤧🥺

☆ Tsukishima Kei ☆

Steps into the road to allow room for people with pushchairs and prams

I know it might not seem like much, but this is Tsukki, guys 🙄

*Narrator voice* this is one small step for man, one giant leap for Tsukishima!

And this just goes to show that he's not as tough of a cookie as he looks

He doesn't like the idea of parents etc. and young children having to walk in the road he gets worried for them...🤭

And he does it consciously, which is important

☆ Yamaguchi Tadashi ☆

Spends time each week looking for the animals on the 'lost' and 'missing' posters around town

He hates to think of them out there, cold, alone, frightened–

It makes him feel nauseous just thinking about it 😣

My poor, precious baby!! He's too pure for this world!! 😭

It's not often, but sometimes he actually manages to find one and bring it back to its owner safely, which is a huge boost for his mood and confidence

He feels so valued and appreciated, and just happy that the little guy is SAFE 😇🤧

☆ Haiba Lev ☆

Helps strangers get their cats out of trees and other high places

What else is a tall, handsome, goofball-of-a stranger to do? 😌

Legit, he doesn't think twice. Tall people should use their height to help people, shouldn't they?

Sure, it doesn't always go to plan, and his arms sometimes end up looking like well-used scratching poles, but he's just glad to help 😇

It's good to see the cats safe and with their owners

♡°☆•♡°☆•♡

If you enjoyed, please consider voting in this poll (ends this Sunday 18/10/20) to help me celebrate reaching 100 followers! Thank you to everyone who's already voted!

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imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs · 3 years

Text

Hitchin’ a Ride

Reposting as it’s own story so it doesn’t languish in obscurity

When you live in a tower with access to the fastest, most versatile, and comprehensive information network on earth, you can have any public domain work (and even a few copyrighted works) at your fingertips in an instant.

But to Raven, that couldn’t hold a candle to the smell and the atmosphere of an occult bookstore, tucked between a pharmacy and a café.

Reading online was easy, but could feel so impersonal to someone who had spent their childhood combing through old scrolls and leather-bound tomes in the Grand Library of Azarath. The musty smell of old first editions and the serenity of a reading nook was really all Raven needed to take the edge off of the super-hero life style combined with a five-person living arrangement.

She’d frequented the place since she’d found it last year, and the owner was all too happy to let her sit in and leaf through his wares. Always a chance she’d buy something.

And after this week’s battle with Plasmus at a sewage treatment plant, in the month of July, she needed to. If she was lucky, something by Caitlín R. Kiernan would be in.

And she was gonna savor it. She was going to get the biggest stack of books she could, read em cover to cover, get something to eat at the café if she was hungry, and not get back to the tower until it was seven. She’d even decided to walk there, because taking it slow meant savoring it. Though with the temperature, she was beginning to think she should have brought a water bottle. Black thigh-high stockings and summer heat did not mix. Maybe she could fly the rest of the way there?

“Hey mama, need a lift?”

Ah, yes, as if on cue, the light of her life showed up. A familiar white and silver paint job pulled up to the curb beside her. In case no-one on the entire west coast hadn’t heard already, Garfield Logan, the Titans’ resident cinephile, class clown, and what one might call her conditional boyfriend, had recently gotten his driver’s license and permission from Victor Stone to drive what the press dubbed the “T-Car.”

Vic had barred everyone from the driver’s seat until such time that three out of five Titans had a license to drive a vehicle (and at least one more had a permit).

Not that she could blame him; Koriand’r had turned out to have quite the lead foot when she decided to take a driving test of her own and all Robins she’d met tended to favor the Tokyo Drift school of driving. Still, of all the Titans, Beast Boy had turned out to be the third most responsible driver (after her and Cyborg).

“Gar, just because Vic lets you drive his car doesn’t mean you--”

When she turned to face the vehicle, the sight in the driver’s seat made her wonder if it was too late to buy a book on psychology.

“What are you wearing?”

Raven could only tell that Garfield was smiling because of the way his eyes crinkled, as most of his face was covered by the camera rig he wore.

“This is the same kind of rig they used in Hardcore Henry,” he said, pointing to his redonkulous (something that looked like that didn’t deserve a real adjective) headwear, “So while I’m driving, I can document the experience hands free.”

“You look like a dentist tortured you.” she said.

“Come on, Raven,” Garfield said, a slight whine in his voice, “Don’t you at least want to know why I stopped.”

“Alright then,” she said, rolling her eyes, “Why did you stop?”

“Well, I just saw a tall, dark, and beautiful gal in a Slipknot shirt owning the sidewalk and just had to record it for posterity.

The flush Raven felt in her face had nothing to do with the heat. Garfield had always been free with compliments, especially where she was concerned.

“You’re unconscionable.”

“Does that mean you think I’m attractive?”

“You have a thesaurus app on your phone. You figure it out.”

“Seriously, though, do you need a lift?”

“Well…”

Honestly, air conditioning would be a godsend right now, but playing hard to get was too tantalizing an offer to pass.

“I don’t know,” Raven said, tapping her finger on her cheek in mock contemplation, “didn’t anyone warn you about hitchhikers?”

“Well, you seem friendly enough.” Gar said, catching on.

“Do I?”

Raven struck a pose, one she hoped would make Gar’s blood boil.

“Hey, Mister Green Jeans,” she said, in a false falsetto, “mind giving little ol’ me a lift?”

“Oh baby!” Gar melodramatically put his hand to his chest and held out the other in a “call me sign.”

“I’ll take you anywhere lookin’ like that!”

“Well, don’t get used to it,” Raven said, walking around the front of the car to the passenger’s side, “cause that’s not going to be a regular occurance.”

“Fine by me,” Garfield said, starting the car engine, “I’ve got it recorded.”

“You know if you show that to anyone, you’re dead, right?”

“I know,” said Gar, “This one goes in my private collection. Never to see the light of day.”

He stopped at a four-way intersection.

“Where too?” he asked.

“Picolo Avenue,” Raven said, “there’s a bookstore there.”

“Picolo it is,” said Garfield, turning right, “but all joking aside, you were made for those cutoff jeans.”

“Stop it,” she said, half-heartedly socking him in the arm.

“Lady Legasus strikes again.”

Against her better judgement, Raven had to laugh at that one.

“Just get me to the bookstore, Mr. Green Jeans.”

#My Writing #Teen Titans #BBRAE #Teen Titans Go!#Teen Titans Go #Raven #Raven Roth #Beast Boy #garfield logan #raven x garfield #raven x beast boy #DC #DC Comics #TTG

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longitudinalwaveme · 3 years

Text

When Giftedness Isn’t Relative: The Autism Spectrum, Hyperlexia, and Me

When it comes to Gifted programs in schools, I have seen a lot of criticism, much of it warranted, from both people who were placed into the Gifted program at their school and for those who were not.

One of the biggest problems with Gifted programs is that they are somewhat relative: a child who is considered gifted at a small school might not make the cut at a school with a more rigorous academic schedule or a larger population, and the vagaries associated with the system have caused many gifted students to become perfections as they strive to maintain high grades as coursework becomes more complex. In other words, gifted programs often create unrealistically high expectations for children who are good at school.

What makes talking about Gifted programs complicated in my case is that, while I definitely struggled with perfectionism in middle school (hello, social anxiety disorder)....I think I may have been a case where the “Giftedness” was not entirely relative. You see, my school considered me to be Gifted in reading specifically, and, while this by itself doesn’t prove anything, there were some extenuating circumstances in my particular case that made things unusual.

You see, I am on the autism spectrum, and one of its signs is something called “hyperlexia”. The difference between this and gifted reading is...basically that the person is on the autism spectrum, which is annoying. Apparently, if you read well, but also have signs of autism, you can’t actually BE a gifted reader; it becomes an obsession. But I digress. The point is, I read early, and I read well above my age level.

My mother said that I recognized letters when I was about 18 months old, and she taught me to read at age 4, before I entered preschool. She did not, however, tell my teacher that she had taught me. As a result, my teacher, who had noticed that I seemed to be reading a book, decided to test me to see if I was really reading or if I had just memorized the story (as some young children do). She had me read through the book, then flipped to the back of the book and pointed out a word that was fairly advanced and not a part of the story itself. I read that, too. This surprised her, and she called my mom, who explained the situation. By the time I was six or seven, I was reading chapter books. I was always at the highest reading level the school library had for my grade, and I was perpetually annoyed because there were certain books that I was prevented from reading due to my grade level. The highest levels for my grade were usually too easy. I also did really, really well on timed reading tests. (I pretty much always made it through the entire passage and was usually about halfway through it again when the timer went off.)

Naturally, being good at reading meant I was also good at school in general (a lot of elementary school revolves around reading and writing, after all). While my handwriting took awhile to shape up (being on the autism spectrum, my fine motor skills were slow to develop), and my math skills were basically just average (I got good grades because I consistently did the work), I did very well indeed in all my other classes...to the point where I was often bored. As a result, when I was tapped for the Gifted program in 2nd grade, I was thrilled. Finally, I had a class that I didn’t read through most of after finishing the actual work twenty minutes early! I was in the gifted program for the next three years, at which point I switched schools to a parochial school with a more rigorous courselaod and no actual gifted programs (though I was still easily the fastest reader in the class and made some of the best grades).

Being a kid who loved to read, was quiet, and loved the strict schedule of school (again, autism spectrum), I’m afraid I may have been something of a teacher’s pet as a kid. Not in the sense of trying to get other kids into trouble or in the sense of deliberately sucking up to the teacher, but in the sense of being the kid that all the teachers really liked because I always participated and obviously really liked school. What I was not was popular. In fact, until I switched to the parochial school, I made only one real friend...and she was promptly snatched away by another girl who didn’t want to share her friend with anyone. While I was lucky enough to only be bullied a few times (there wasn’t any persistent harassment), I was also a bit of weird loner who talked too much about books, was often lost in her own world, couldn’t read social cues, and kind of hogged the swings, so I was generally ignored, except in the classroom, where I was acknowledged as “that really smart kid”. (I suspect that the lack of bullying was probably correlated, at least in part, to the fact that my teachers all liked me and it was probably recognized by the other kids. Bullying a weird kid is a lot riskier when they regularly and comfortably talk with the teachers.)

The parochial school where I attended middle school was a Godsend, in more ways than one. I finally had classes that were challenging enough to be enjoyable, I actually made friends at school, there wasn’t an arbitrary book cut-off level anymore, and, most importantly, my building anxiety issues were finally addressed. As noted above, my math skills are basically average. I’m not actually BAD at math, but, since my reading skills were so high, I thought I was...and this provoked intense anxiety...to the point where I started having anxiety attacks in class. My mathematics teacher, who was amazing, immediately informed my mother about the problem, and, within a year, I started seeing my equally amazing counselor, Elisabeth. (I was incredibly blessed to have such supportive parents, teachers, and counselors. I know a lot of people on the spectrum aren’t as lucky.)

When I was 12, I was formally tested for the first time and diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder and OCD. Furthermore, we also learned that, while my spatial intelligence was absolutely terrible, my reading intelligence was in the 99.9th percentile, and I was reading at a collegiate level. While I am not a genius in terms of overall intelligence, in terms of verbal intelligence only, I am. (This would be why I was able to read War and Peace in a week at the age of 13 and understand what was happening.) Strangely, he did not think that I was on the autism spectrum, but he did think that I might have Nonverbal Learning Disorder (due to the massive gap between my verbal intelligence and my intelligence in other areas), and it seems like there is a general consensus that NLVD is related to autism anyway.

When I entered high school (at the same public school where my dad teaches), I was already an avid consumer of Shakespeare, classical literature...and frankly any other book I could get my hands on. I started taking Honors and AP courses as soon as they were available to me (for some reason, there weren’t any Honors courses available during freshman year). I scored a “5″ on the AP Government Test, the AP Language Test, and the AP Literature test, and was third in my class. (The main reason I wasn’t higher was because of the inconsistent weighing of honors and AP courses.) I enjoyed high school, and I am enjoying college even more.

When I was 17, I was re-tested to see if I had Nonverbal Learning Disorder (as suggested by the previous test ) and/or autism (this because I had read enough testimonies from other people on the spectrum to identify myself with the condition). Again, I scored in the 99.9th percentile for verbal intelligence, and I was formally diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. They also confirmed the first psychologist’s suspicions that I had NVLD. I was happy to get this diagnosis, as it confirmed my suspicions about myself (I am even more relieved to have gotten it now, since I am now aware of the fact that many women on the spectrum aren’t diagnosed until their thirties!)

#autism spectrum #gifted kid discourse #nonverbal learning disorder

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dessarious · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt1

Okay so I figured what the heck and just started. This is still going to be on the back burner until I’m finished with Broken Harmony so there’s probably not going to be a regular update schedule at first. But here’s the start of my Damian transfers to Paris fic.

Inspire by @ozmav Maribat AU

Damian sat on a plane to Paris trying to retrace the steps that had brought him to this point. He mentally cursed his father and Diana Prince for a good measure. The Justice League didn’t believe there was anything going on in Paris. They were certain it was just the Mayor pulling a publicity stunt using popular fictional characters. Everyone felt that way, except Wonder Woman. She insisted that they look into it but refused to say why. She’d pulled Damian aside before he left to tell him to be careful and keep an open mind, whatever that meant.

Bruce didn’t think there was anything going on in Paris. If he had Damian knew he wouldn’t be alone on this plane right now. No, his father had decided that Damian needed a ‘growth opportunity’. In other words he hoped that forcing Damian to live with and go to school with normal kids would help him become a more well rounded person, whatever that meant.

So here he was flying over an ocean to get to a place he didn’t want to be. On the bright side he wouldn’t have to deal with his family for at least six months. The peace and quiet would be a godsend. He just hoped that his host family didn’t turn out to be as annoying. It was a parent, one child, and their staff so he couldn’t imagine it would be anywhere near as problematic as the manor was. Worst case scenario he would just have to find a library or cafe to spend time at to avoid any problems the host family presented.

The school was another matter entirely. He’d be going to a public school that Diana had insisted on. No one knew why, or at least no one would tell him. He thought Alfred knew more than he let on about the entire situation, but it was Alfred so there was nothing unusual about that. He’d already looked at the curriculum so he knew exactly how far ahead of them he was and therefore exactly how mind numbingly boring it would be. When he pointed this out to his father the man had simply told him that meant he’d have more time to make friends.

The last thing he wanted to do was make friends. He was going to spend the next six months keeping up with his real studies and training and ignoring everything and everyone around him. He was going to make the most of his time away from his family, even if it was because he was being sent on a fool's errand. One of the flight attendants got on the intercom to announce their impending arrival and Damian began bracing himself for dealing with whatever nonsense was about to be thrown at him

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

Adrien was vibrating with excitement next to Nathalie as they waited for the planes arrival. He’d begged for them to apply as a host family as soon as he’d heard about the program and was pleasantly surprised when Nathalie somehow convinced his father to allow it. It would be just like having a brother. They could play games together, he’d tutor him in math and physics, maybe even teach him how to fence! He’d finally have someone to listen to him about how amazing Ladybug was and someone to complain to when his father refused to let him spend time with friends. They’d be trapped in the house together so he’d always have someone there to spend time with. This was going to be a great six months!

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

Marinette was asleep because it was four am on Saturday and sleep is what any semi-sane teenager did at that time. Especially one that had been up until two am designing and making tour outfits for Jagged Stone. She was blissfully unaware of the plane about to touch down that would upend her life… again.

Tag List

@noirdots @valeks-princess @chocolatecatstheron @krispydefendorpolice

#damian wayne #marinette dupen chang #maribat #bffmaridami

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yukippe · 4 years

Text

with one glimpse

this is inspired by and for @silima bc i saw her reychel art yesterday and went oh!! ao3

reyna meets rachel at the worst possible time.

she’s losing her influence over the people that she’s done her best to hold onto at the seams for years. her sister has dealt with coups before, but there is something to be said about being a twenty two year old queen who has never had her authority truly questioned before versus a sixteen year old praetor on her second year of her term that has constantly been filled with thinly veiled insults and redirections to the opinions of her male counterparts.

she is the only one willing to see rachel elizabeth dare, oracle of camp halfblood and her companion grover underwood, the apparent new lord of the wild. she does it because she knows that something is wrong. the greeks may have attacked camp jupiter, but it never felt right.

reyna meets rachel at the worst possible time. rachel leaves an impression, of course, she is a legitimate oracle and all reyna has known when it comes to fate and prophecy is whatever octavian does with the teddy bears he cuts up. and, well. rachel is also someone that likely leaves an impression everywhere she goes. her bright red hair and paint stained jeans and nails with chipped, multicoloured polish make a clear picture in reyna’s head. if things had been different rachel wouldn’t have been able to leave reyna’s thoughts.

but, it is a war and reyna is trying desperately to hold everything together when all the legion seems to want to do is follow the words of a power hungry augur who has never won a sparring match. and then the message rachel dare and grover underwood came to deliver sends reyna all the way to greece.

after everything, reyna knows no lost love for eros or venus, both deities having wreaked pain for her and nico. nico, however, reyna thinks is better than a godsend.

seven months after the end of the giant war nico visits camp jupiter with the promise of setting her up on a blind date.

at first reyna is skeptical. nico is a fourteen year old boy who spends every other weekend in the underworld and the rest of the time avoiding reyna’s questions about whether or not he’s going to high school. but, nico does have a very nice boyfriend and he claims that will has “an infinite supply” of lesbian friends her age. so reyna agrees to one blind date, on the condition that nico tours the campus of the high schools in new rome with her. percy likes to cut it on their iris messages to say things about how annabeth is going to have a high school set up in no time, but reyna always reminds him that not even new rome was built in a day.

the two of them are getting hot chocolate in reyna’s favourite cafe by the park with cherry trees that reyna likes to watch and keep track of the blooming patterns. nico is texting will under the table while reyna pretends to be interested in people watching the passerby on the other side of the window they’re seated by. a little girl spies reyna’s purple shirt and the golden laurel in her hair and waves, reyna winks at her.

“ha, you spying new recruits?” nico asks, evidently finished making fun of whatever will sent him.

reyna raises an eyebrow at him, “you were at the senate meeting where frank and i raised the age of voluntary service to sixteen. if she is interested in the legion, i will likely be long retired by the time she’s old enough to join.��

nico makes a face at her. reyna sticks her tongue out in return. most of the time she behaves better, but nico’s company makes her act like a child. could be the shared trauma, or the fact that they were both gay. nico’s phone buzzes again and saves reyna from embarrassing herself further in public. she looks over at the display of pastries at the front of the cafe and considers them carefully. hm. she walks over and orders a chocolate croissant for herself and an oatmeal raisin cookie for nico. his tastebuds are strange, but reyna’s learned better than to try and help him in months of their friendship.

when she returns to their table she plucks his phone out of his hands and pockets it. she ignores his protests and grabby hands, “so. this blind date.”

nico retracts his hands and grins, she doesn’t trust it at all. “she’s going to be holding a blue hairbrush,” he pauses to snicker for no apparent reason. “and she’ll meet you at the library. she told me she’s going to pick a really weird statue to stand next to so you’ll have to make conversation while it’s staring down at you.”

reyna blinks at that. all the statues near the library are odd, so that won’t help very much. but the blue hairbrush should be enough to identify her.

“what’s she like?” reyna asks. nico shrugs at her, so she pulls out the cookie she hid under a napkin and waves it at him.

“she likes art and loud noise,” nico tells her as he reaches over the table and grabs the cookie from her hand. reyna lets him because she doesn’t feel like fighting him in the cafe for it. besides, by nico’s cagey standards that’s a decent amount of information.

she asks him if any of the friends he’s made at camp half blood would be interested in joining them on the tour they’re taking of high schools in new rome in a few weeks and he shoves his cookie into his mouth to avoid answering her. reyna lets him avoid her questions as she tries her croissant.

weeks later after a successful tour of colosseum high school with ten of camp half bloods young and at risk to monster attack teenagers, nico hands her a library book he forgot to return that she’s supposed to use for the girl he’s setting her up with to recognize her with.

“you’re going to get your library card revoked,” she tells him. “do you know how long it took me to get you one? you don’t even live in new rome yet.”

“i don’t like the sound of ‘yet’,” nico says. reyna bares her teeth as she smiles at him, but then she leaves him with his friends and a map to wander new rome for the rest of the day and makes her way over to the library.

reyna has only been on a date that mattered once before. before the unsettling conversation she had with venus, she had tried to feel things for the boys who she knew she should like. no demigod will heal your heart. she is not thankful for venus, the goddess had been cruel and cruelty is not what reyna had needed when the goddess of love had pulled her away after reyna had risked everything on hope and her faith in her ability to survive.

after the war, though, venus’s words had haunted her. reyna has never had time to think about attraction in depth, but piper’s reassurances that she might love a mortal or a god did not seem to be what venus had been alluding to. reyna has no interest in letting someone else heal her heart, and even less interest in any immortal figure. and. reyna had pieced it together with the help of her inability to tear her gaze away from piper’s beautiful brown eyes that fundamentally she couldn’t love a boy.

she’d gone to lunch with a centurion who had a pretty singing voice and liked card games. it had been fun, but the other girl hadn’t really been able to separate reyna as herself and reyna as praetor.

nico’s friend is from camp half blood and reyna has found since the giant war that she is very fond of the looseness of the greeks. she doesn’t like to jinx things, but reyna thinks today will be at least a day of fun.

rachel elizabeth dare, oracle of camp half blood, is sitting at the feet of a particularly ugly statue of emperor constantine holding a blue hairbrush. reyna pauses in her tracks. a memory of the shape of rachel’s mouth as she said reyna’s full name the first time they met, months ago, plays in the back of reyna’s head.

reyna met rachel at the worst possible time. nico’s given her a second chance.

rachel is tormenting the pigeons near her when reyna walks up to her. rachel’s hair is cropped shorter than it was the last time reyna saw her. her nails are less chipped, and it looks like they’re painted in a rainbow pattern.

“hello,” reyna says. she feels awkward, but she wants to try her best to be charming. everything about rachel is breathtaking.

rachel looks up from the pigeons she was making faces at and sways. reyna reaches out to steady her. “are you okay?” reyna asks, concerned.

“uh,” rachel laughs lightly and reyna wants to hear that sound many, many more times. “yeah! i’m find. nico didn’t seem to think to tell me it was you.”

reyna doesn’t quite understand why that made rachel swoon but she smiles at her, because she really wants to smile at rachel and it seems like it fits. “i tried to get nico to tell me who you were going to be, but he can be a bother when he wants to. i have to return a library book of his, but i’ll be right back.”

rachel grins back at her, “sounds good. hey, do you know who this unfortunate statue if of?” rachel points up at constantine and mimes a sick face.

reyna can’t help but laugh, “yeah. emperor constantine.”

“wonder what he did to piss off the artist,” rachel muses. reyna laughs again and does her best to rush to return nico’s book without looking like she’s running to get back to rachel.

when she returns she and rachel decide to walk though the park nearby and then go for something sweet after. rachel tells her she’s vegan and reyna plots a path in her head that will lead them to a gelato place.

“so,” reyna says. “nico said you like art and loud noise?”

rachel blushes, it’s a little splotchy and it hides some of her freckles. reyna wants a picture of it. “uh yeah, i paint a lot and i think i’m going to apply to scad and some other more realistic schools.” she gestures to her denim shorts and reyna looks closer to see paint stains similar to the ones rachel wore when they first met.

“what do you like to paint?” reyna asks her. she wants to know everything rachel wants to tell her.

rachel smiles at her and reyna can tell she asked the right question. as they walk rachel tells her about how they realized she was meant to be the oracle of delphi because she started to paint the future. now, rachel paints things to send a message or make people smile. reyna gets rachel to show her an oil painting she did of annabeth and thalia that percy commissioned her for for annabeth’s birthday. “he’s paying me in baked goods,” rachel tells her. “his mom’s blue chocolate chip cookies are better than ambrosia.”

reyna pauses her at that, “can you eat ambrosia?”

rachel winks at her, “no!”

rachel proceeds to ask her about her dogs, and reyna loves to talk about aurum and argentum. she’s telling rachel about how they like to steal her food even though they’re made of metal when rachel plucks a blue flower and tucks it into her braid. reyna trails off as she watches reyna, and her breath catches when rachel’s hand brushes against her jaw.

rachel’s hand drops to her side and she meets reyna’s eyes. “reyna,” rachel asks, her eyes sparkling and her mouth quirking at the side. “this is a first date and all, but can i kiss you?”

reyna remembers how to breathe, somehow and nods. “yes,” reyna says, smiling. “i’d like that. i like you.”

rachel blushes again, and she places one hand gently on reyna’s cheek, and the other on rachel’s shoulder. reyna puts her hands on rachel’s waist and hooks a finger into one of rachel’s belt loops, she pulls rachel closer and she thinks rachel must be able to hear her heartbeat.

gently, rachel presses her lips against hers and reyna sinks into the touch. reyna can’t think of anything else other than rachel.

they break apart and reyna can feel a giant grin fill her face, it grows even more when she realizes rachel’s smile is just as big. rachel’s hands drop down and reyna lets go of rachel’s waist so she can hold rachel’s hand.

“what’s your favourite flavour sorbet?” reyna asks her.

rachel blinks, “hm?”

“we’re headed to a gelato place,” reyna says. she pulls rachel along the path. rachel laughs as they go and they talk about rachel’s strange taste in music and reyna’s guilty pleasure of badly made action movies. rachel’s hand is soft and reyna thinks the feeling of it against her skin is maybe the best thing ever.

#pjo #hoo #reychel #rachel elizabeth dare #reyna avila ramirez arellano #rey's writering

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