#this was a file I’ve technically had finished FOR A YEAR NOW but I literally

[8bit-mau5]

I need ppl to be online for when I post this Homestuck fanart request I had buried in my file from a year ago

#I couldn’t fit her glasses in I also forgot that like #the pre-scratch trolls had white eyes? #JHJGHDS #8bit beeps #this was a file I’ve technically had finished FOR A YEAR NOW but I literally #couldn’t open the file to save a PNG for because I had such little space #left available on my prev laptop (‘:

[sendpseuds]

20 Questions for Fic Writers [DRUNK EDITION]

Okay so…

I was tagged by @yourfavoritefridge and answered all of these questions while very drunk last night and for reasons I’ve decided to just give you those answers.

{Obviously I wasn’t sober enough to format it with links and stuff so I have done a little after the fact but I’ll just mark all my sober updates with these fancy ass brackets, but for the most part, I left my drunk answers unaltered and did not elaborate. ENJOY!}

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

28 [Holy shit]

{technically 29 now}

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

380,7555 [feels fake] {and not a number…}

{also it’s 380,918 now}

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

Apart from the first fic [which we will talk about in Q19] Star Wars

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Haunted Heart {293 kudos | Anakin falls for the charming ghost haunting his house} {when I tell you I thought this fic would have less hits than it has kudos when I first posted it…}

Bound and Broken {252 kudos | Satine helps Obi-Wan through his trauma following the events of Kadavo }

I’ll Fall For You If… {241 kudos | Bartender Anakin helps widower Obi-Wan set up his dating profile}

Go Fuck Yourself Obi-Wan [WHAT THE FUCK!? I love you freaks] {239 kudos | When a young padawan Kenobi finds himself in the future, Obi-Wan gets to know himself on a… deeper level}

Your Highness {237 kudos | Obi-Wan and Satine during the year on the run. The beginning of a long running series}

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Not recently, and I’m trying really hard not to feel bad about it. MORE WHEN YOURE SOBER

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Bound and Broken or Haunted Heart

HonorableM: Curiosity Killed the Commander & Homecoming

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The Resolute Theater Presents

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? I’ve gotten the errant comment here and there, there has been a lot of asks about getting back to EIYWT which… ANSWER WHEN YOURE SOBER

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I love this question.

It’s the weirdest question.

I know a few other mutuals have pointed it out, and I want to be clear, I don’t mean it in a bad way, but this is a weird question in a way that I LOVE.

YES.

Yes, I write smut.

It’s pretty much all I write…

But WHAT KIND???

Oh fuck.

I write the kind of smut that will make you squirm in your seat and chew your lip as tears stream down your flushed cheeks.

I will make you feel things, and then I WILL MAKE YOU FEEL THINGS

{I’m fine. This is fine}

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Have not.

Have considered X-Files x Star Wars but I think that’s more of an AU than a crossover

[in case anyone is interested]

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of!

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don’t think so, but I mean— That would be incredible

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

ANSWER WHEN YOURE SOBER

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

ALL TIME!?

I don’t fucking know, ANSWER SOBER

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

This question makes me itchy. SKIP

16.) What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm still finding them. And I mean that in the best way.

I think maybe my strength is that I’m learning to just write the way I write?

I’m finding a way to tell the stories I’ve always heard in my mind and to my absoltute fucking astonishment — there are people who like the stories in my head…

I’m learning to ignore everything I ever learned about writing. I’m learning to just listen to that weird rhythm that has always been in my head and just TELL THE FUCKING STORY [sometimes literally] {gods I hate myself}

I don’t know.

I think…

I think I’m a good story teller.

I think I can tell a complete story, both short and long.

I think I’ve always been able to do this — usually out loud, I’m very good at giving speeches and entertaining people but I’ve always been good at telling stories. Nothing frustrates me more than a poorly told drunken shenanigan, or a wedding speech with bad story structure…

Okay this is getting pretentious

READ THIS WHEN YOURE SOBER

ANYWAY

Yeah… even though I’ve written stories with open endings, stories that could have a follow up, stories that leave you wanting more — they’re all still complete stories. You don’t NEED to know more, you can imagine the rest yourself.

And isn’t that the best part?

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I’m sure I have a lot.

I choose not to think about them…

…

That’s not true but if I think about it too might I’ll tear myself apart so I’m gonna say that I’m a terrible speller and MOVE ON

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I am not at all confident enough for this.

Fictional or not.

I mean, I’m totally into it! I’ll read it all day!

I’m not confident enough to write it [myself]

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

WOLF 359!!!

YOU GUYS!

THIS AUDIODRAMA WILL BREAK YOUR HEART

AND THE FIRST THING I EVER WROTE WAS A THREESOME WITH A FUCKING CENTIENT SPACESTATION AND TWO OF HER CREW AND I AM STILL VERY PROUd oh fuck I just realized caps lock was still on I’m gonna… yeah okay.

^^^READ SOBER

{the fic in question}

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

Fuck me,

Um.

Probably Haunted Heart. {I still think about this fic on a daily basis…}

BUT

Can I shout out another fic I’m really proud of?

A Very Strange Time in My Life {a really short, really weird first person story loosely inspired by Fight Club}

{well folks… I hope you enjoyed this weird look into my drunk brain!}

#the things i do for internet approval #honestly #20 questions #writer questions #drunk answers #ask game

[georgedpr]

Blogging and Streamlining the Process

I have been trying to blog for years, and over the years I have found that there is no magic or “silver bullet”1 Writing anything from a work memo to a grocery list requires you to plant yourself somewhere and start writing. Put one word after another till you get to the “The End” (figuratively or literally depending on what you’re writing). This seems like a simple endeavor though it often proves harder than one imagines due to life stressors and other factors.

There has even been a recent reflection on blogging having a resurgence given the recent upheaval in the social media space.

Bring back personal blogging - The Verge

I hate what blogging has become: Reflections after a blogging break

What I should do, however, is to stay true to myself and blog whatever the heck I want, even if it impacts my rice bowl.

And some retrospectives from those who have been blogging for numerous years.2

This all brings my attempts at blogging and writing into new/sharp contexts. I have had this domain for over ten years now, and I have been blogging (between this blog and prior instances for longer). I started the blog to create a professional voice (like my blog idol at librarian.net or the librarian avengers) though the blog has evolved over the years.

I still write to get ideas into the world though it helps me process and understand the world as it unfolds around me; it has never been easy and never as often or as well as I desire. Yet, I want to keep writing. I think this is partly because I am inherently curious and also a “tinkerer” at heart.

I am saying all this for context as I was disheartened to find draft documents for blog posts dating back years sitting ideally and not posted or started and never continued. Most on reactions to a news article or a half-finished idea and it pains me to post them now so I thought I should rework my workflow to try and prevent this from happening again. I have tried a few services over the years to host the blog3 and I like to write in a Markdown editor before posting to my blog rather than the native client. I think it is best to have a local copy of your posts saved as a text file as that means I have an offline copy.

The downside to this process is that the Tumblr app does not allow for native Markdown so I have to export the blog and then try to access Tumblr via the web to post via the web. 4 I used to use an app called Byword for years though that seems to have been abandoned, and there are other similar apps like iA Writer though they don’t have integration with Tumblr and don’t have plans to implement the service. I could look at different clients likeMarsedit though I really wanted a mobile client and Marsedit does TOO much. The reason I like Tumblr is that as much as I want to nerd out over the HTML and it simply allows me to post (in theory) without worrying too much about the backend HTML. There is also the Tumblr API though would be a stretch to create something to post natively (as exciting as that does sound in theory) so I think the technical solutions may not be worth the effort at this point.

I am not sure what a good solution will be at this point though I was thinking about creating a publishing calendar that would help me create a habit to blog and then also work on better tracking WHAT I’ve written about to help spur ideas. Though I don’t know if that will only further convolute the process. I know that writing and creating are important human endeavors and it feeds the soul. I feel as though I write some version of this post every year though yet it is important to keep trying, and trying.

I am not sure where that statement comes from though it seems pertinent in this case.  ↩︎

I came across this recommendation from Jeff Perry (@[email protected]) on writing, which is a discussion between Jason Kottke and John Gruber on the The Talk Show ep. 370 - ‘Fine Hypertext Products’, with Jason Kottke - Jeff Perry  ↩︎

I have used Rapidweaver to self-host, then Blogger, and now Tumblr, which has been my home for several years.  ↩︎

Also the Tumblr Markdown they’ve implemented does not allow for some Markdown functions like footnotes so I need to export the text as HTML.  ↩︎

#writing #blogging #writing process

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter one rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Masterlist and Series Masterlist

“Married?” You squeaked as your eyes grazed over the words on the card a hundred times without retaining any of the information. As you momentarily forgot how to even read, you had to rely on the words coming out of Andy’s mouth.

“Yes, uh, married.” He awkwardly cleared his throat. “Dani and I are getting married over the summer.”

The awkward silence filled the air, suffocating the three of you, but you didn’t care. You were still staring at that damn card. That damn card that said your ex boyfriend was getting married to another girl.

“Married.” You repeated, at a loss for words.

“You said that already, dumbass.” Venom chimed in, telepathically. You rolled your eyes and kicked the bench, signaling to her to quiet down.

“Yeah.” He said again. “I know we’re young, but I’m sure about her. She’s the love of my life.”

“Wow. Good for you.” You faked a smile as you stared at the invitation. “It’s Uh, it’s a lot to take in.”

“I know. That’s why I wanted to tell you in person. I figured it would be better than you randomly getting the card in the mail and finding out that way.” Andy explained.

“Our hero.” Venom snarled, so you pinched your leg to send her the message to be quiet.

“Yeah. Yeah, no, I’m glad you told me.” You lied as your eyes finally processed something on the card.

“You’re getting married on August 10?” You asked, finally tearing your eyes away from the invitation to look at him. He looked good, you had to admit. His curly brown hair was cut shorter than usual and he was still wearing his police uniform.

“Bright and early. I chose that day because-“

“Because it’s your parents anniversary. I know.” You cut him off, a little sharply.

“I’m sorry if this is awkward.” He frowned. “I understand if you’re too hurt to come.”

“It’s fine. We were together and now we’re not. Besides, I’m really happy for you and Dani. She really helped me get back on my feet when Venom and I first bonded. I like her. And if you want to marry her on that day, then go ahead.” You said, and you meant it. You did like Dani. You’d like her more if she wasnt dating the love of your life, but hey, nobody’s perfect.

“You’re lying. We want him back. He looks so juicy and delicious.” Venom said. You choked on your saliva for a moment at her words and Andy was quick to pat your back.

“You alright?” He asked. You nodded and made a mental note to have a domestic conversation about boundaries with Venom when you got home.

“I’m fine. And anyways, I’ve uh, I’ve moved on.” You lied, adverting your eyes so he wouldn’t catch on.

“What? No we haven’t?” Venom didn’t grasp the social cue.

“You have?” Andy asked, seemingly taken aback.

“No! We love you!” Venom growled in your head.

“Yep. I’m in a deeply committed and loving relationship.” You nodded as you looked anywhere but at him. It wasn’t a total lie. You were technically in a relationship with Venom, though be it a host/parasite kinda deal.

“What’s he like?” Andy wondered, looking pissed off all the sudden.

“They’re great. They’re, uh…tall. Super, super tall.” You began to describe Venom. So far, it was all true. Venom was 7’6 in her final form.

“They’re black, like yourself, and they’ve got this big, beautiful smile.” You could feel yourself cringing internally as you painted the picture for him.

“You think our smile is beautiful?” Venom teased you.

“And they just always have my back. They’re my ride or die, you know? If I didn’t have them, I’d be dead. Literally.” You finished. Also true. If you and Venom ever got separated, you would both die. Andy was looking off into the distance, sucking his teeth before nodding again.

“That’s nice.” He said, but his tone didn’t sound like he thought it was nice.

“I’d literally die.” You repeated to fill the awkward silence.

“I get it.” He deadpanned.

“Like, I’d freaking perish.”

“Alright.” He held up his hands and you stopped.

“So, do you think you can come?” He brought the conversation back to him, something he was good at.

Of course you could come. What else would you be doing? But you were just getting back on my feet after losing your job and a wedding might be too much too soon. You were at rock bottom before you found Venom. Well, before you found each other. That was nearly a year ago, but that day came back in flashes every now and then...

“You’re seriously breaking up with me? Over a job?” You asked as you followed Andy out of the police station. You were under the impression that he had just been fired because of the files you took from his computer. Classified files on local businessman Carlton Drake and the people he had killed with his experiments, of course.

“Yeah, I am.” He snapped. “I’m done with you.”

“Can’t we talk about this?” You pleaded as you followed him down the street.

“Okay.” He stopped, looking angry. “Do you want to talk about how you embarrassed me in front of my precinct? I just got yelled at in front of my all my coworkers because of you and your greed. You used me for your stupid show.”

“I wasn’t being greedy.” You insisted, ignoring that he called your job stupid. “You had the information on Carlton Drake and I needed it to make an accusation. He’s killing people! He’s a bad guy, Andy. And I write about and report bad men. That’s my job. I didn’t know that looking at your files would get you fired.”

Andy put his hands on his hips and looked around, suddenly sheepish.

“I wasn’t fired.” He mumbled.

“What?” You switched from upset to confused. “Then why are you angry?”

“I was demoted to traffic duty for two weeks because of you.” He pointed an angry finger at you and you almost laughed.

“I’m sorry, wait.” You compared yourself. “You’re breaking up with me after two years together because I got you demoted to traffic duty? Are you serious?”

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to wear that orange vest? It’s humiliating.” Andy shouted and you covered your mouth to keep from laughing. “Everyone in the neighborhood knows me and now they’re gonna know I’m on traffic duty.”

“People know you?” Your eyes widened at how dense he was being. “Andy, I’m a local celebrity. I had a whole show on YouTube that I was just fired from. Actually fired. You’re just a police officer who was demoted.”

“To traffic duty.” He repeated, as if it was suddenly worse.

“I know!” You snapped before calming down. “Are we really over? Just because of one mistake?”

“You used me.” He shrugged. “I can’t trust you.”

You stared at him as he walked over to you, never breaking eye contact as he took his key off your key ring.

“We’re over.” He hissed before turning around and walking away.

“Y/N?” Andy waved a hand in front of your face, snapping you out of it.

“Oh, right sorry. Um…” You trailed off as you mulled it over. You were happy for him, but you weren’t ready to see him marry someone else. That was gonna be you guys. Of course you wanted to be at his wedding, but you wanted to be the bride.

“Actually, I cant.” You blurted, quickly thinking of a lie. “The Daily Bugle called me and offered me a job in New York. They want me to cover a story on some serial killer. I was gonna move there part time until the story is done. I’m leaving in a few weeks.”

It was partially true. The Daily Bugle did reach out to ask you to write the story, but you had planned to write it at home. News of Andy’s impending marriage was enough to drive you out of the state.

“Oh really?” Andy raised an eyebrow. “Wow.”

He was never one to celebrate you, even when you were together, but his reaction seemed different now. He almost seemed surprised that you were still successful without him.

“Yea. I just finalized everything this morning.” You lied again as you wondered how you’d get a NYC apartment on such short notice. “But hey, maybe I’ll finish early and make it back in time for your big day. I mean, it’s only April. I have lots of time. How many people could this guy possible kill until August?” You joked, but Andy didn’t laugh. He never really got your sense of humor.

“That’s great Y/N.” He nodded, not much enthusiasm behind it. “Things are really turning around for you. I can’t believe you found a job and a boyfriend. I didn’t think it would happen.”

You narrowed your eyes at his condescending comment but decided to brush it off.

“Well, it did. I’m on to bigger and better things.” You cut into him a little as you stood up. “I better go. I told my partner I’d meet them for lunch. Bye!”

“Bye!” Andy called after you, still in a funk from what you told him.

You practically ran home and slid down your door once you got inside.

“Holy shit. I’m such a liar.” You grimaced and covered my face with my hands. Venom manifested herself in her snake-like form and looked at you.

“You’re not a liar if we move to New York and start dating.” She said, making you laugh.

“You have a point. In that case, will you be my girlfriend, Miss Venom?” You asked sarcastically and Venom grinned.

“You’re not really my type, but I’m willing to settle.” Venom matched your sarcasm.

“Then let’s make moving plans, baby.” You sighed. “We’re going to New York.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 16

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: mentions of violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“You’re coming to me about soulmate bonds?” Bruce Banner asked for what seemed like the umpteenth time. Once again, you and Bucky nodded in sync, standing awkwardly in the middle of his lab. 

Bruce let out a sigh as he turned back to whatever he had been working on. He hadn’t totally dismissed you two yet, thankfully, so you were just forced to stand there, waiting.

When Bucky had told you this was who would potentially help you, you were a bit hesitant. You had only encountered Bruce briefly in your time at the compound. In fact, you hadn’t really gotten to know anyone outside of Bucky and Steve. So, coming to an Avenger, let alone a literal nationally recognized genius, for help with such a thing...made you nervous, to say the least. You’d have to confess your troubles to a third party once more. 

But Bucky assured you over and over again that Bruce could be trusted. He didn’t know the scale of his research on the topic but he felt he was a trustworthy person for this. Eventually, you agreed. After your first shift back at work - a new addition back to your routine as you worked to regain some stability - Bucky took you over to the compound. You had thought he had gotten an appointment or at least gave Bruce some kind of rundown on the proposal but, apparently, no.

“What makes you think I can answer any questions on that?” Bruce grumbled as he furiously wrote notes on his current project. You and Bucky shared a look. 

“I heard you did some research on it,” Bucky explained. 

Bruce huffed. “So?”

“So,” Bucky sighed, “we think we… we have a problem with ours.”

This vague statement was enough for Bruce to perk up a bit. His writing had stopped. He was looking forward now, away from the project. “A problem?” Bruce asked, slightly glancing over his shoulder.

You shifted your weight as you stood a bit uncomfortable with the admission out in the open. Bucky, though, was the definition of cool, calm, and collected. You were just a little bit jealous of him.

Bucky nodded. “To put it simply, my girl has nightmares.”

Bruce seemed very interested now. He finally turned back around, facing you two fully once again. He looked intrigued but not really excited. You wondered greatly what his research really encompassed. 

“Nightmares?” Bruce was beginning to sound like some sad echo. But you and Bucky just went with it, nodding your head in confirmation. Bruce continued, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of nightmares. They’re dreams we have — soulmate dreams.”

You sighed, greatly out of annoyance. You’d been hearing the same thing day after day after day for years. “I know,” you finally said. “I am well aware of that but it just isn’t how ours work. I’ve only ever seen the…bad things Bucky has encountered. And for a while, after we met, they stopped.”

“As you would hope.”

You nodded. “But then that…thing happened. And it’s all started over again except somehow stronger. I’m seeing it all through Bucky’s eyes. Through his feelings. Through his — his everything. I’m back there twice over and many times after.”

Bruce shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. You didn’t know what to do. Bucky was very tense beside you, hands balled into tight fists waiting as anxiously as you for Bruce to just say something about it. But he didn’t, not yet, as he raced over to his desk. From one of the drawers, a very particularly locked one, Bruce pulled out a file. He flicked it open and began reading, his finger roaming over the pages wildly, hunting for whatever it was he needed. You and Bucky just watched the situation unfold, practically holding your breaths. 

Eventually, Bruce walked back over, a very specific page opened in the filed documents. You couldn’t make out what it was about from your sneaky glance so you waited for the genius to begin. He looked between you and Bucky, jaw slacked in amazement and concerned. 

“Before I get into this, I want you both to promise me this knowledge doesn’t leave this lab unless it is on my account, okay?” He spoke strongly and seriously. You two nodded. Once he was pleased, Bruce looked back at the file and began, “Gosh, I can’t believe I forgot about this… You were right, Bucky, I have researched soulmate bonds. I didn’t do it for long, God knows it’s a hot topic, but part of my research involved what I nicknamed toxic bonds.” He looked pointedly at you two. “It just started out as a little theory stemming from the old stories about soulmates ‘moving on.’ It’s really a bit more than just not liking someone. This theory revolves around stories of soulmates, in these cases, receiving unflattering or uninteresting dreams from their partnered mates. I was basing these off the accounts of long ago as there are no known partners that fit this mold. At least, until now.” Bruce motioned between you two. You didn’t like where this was all going. “I believe what you two share is a toxic bond, a sort of glitch in Fate. Except, where you two fall flat in this is the fact the nightmares have come back. All dreams change after meeting your soulmate, right?” No one said anything. Bruce continued, “Yes, they technically should. Something has in fact fallen off with you two. I can’t say what but it doesn’t add it and could be significant to this research. With permission, I would like to run some tests on each of you.”

You stiffened. “T-Tests?” While you should be kind of relieved there’s some answer - or idea - for what you’re experiencing, you were suddenly hung up on the prospect of being an experiment. Bucky’s hand reached out to grasp yours, trying to offer some comfort. The thought of being strapped to a chair flashed through your mind. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky shoot Bruce a harsh look.

“Nothing harmful, I promise,” Bruce insisted. “I would just like to take a peek into your brains, into the bond.”

“That’s possible?” Bucky asked. You were glad he at least had the strength to speak.

“It’s attached to the brain function in various ways,” Bruce explained. “A look into your brainwaves can tell me a lot. Or nothing, if that's the case, too.”

You knew you were doing an absolutely horrible job at hiding your worries but, thankfully, neither man was bringing much attention to it. They just looked at you, waiting for an answer. You were quite impressed by how Bucky was just going along with this. But, at the same time, there was a reason he came here instead of seeking a true outsider. If this was okay with Bucky, it was going to have to be okay with you. At least this time, you weren’t being thrown in a chair alone. 

“Okay,” you nodded. “Let’s see what we can find out.”

***

You didn’t know which was more daunting: the actual test itself or waiting for the results. 

The test was more like a true test of patience. You basically just had to sit there as Bruce wrote notes and saw things you never could make out from the weird squiggly lines on the monitor. All while he’s doing that, you’re trying not to just break down from being in a lab again. Thankfully, Bucky offered more comfort the best he could. He let you squeeze his non-metal hand, never flinching once no matter how much your nails dig into him. He even tried striking up conversations with you, trying to distract you. He tells you about the new romance movie he thinks you two should go see. You try to stay engaged, feeling a bit bad you couldn’t focus well on it, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

When the roles were reversed, Bucky didn’t ask for any help from you. You still tried to offer something by taking his hand in yours. But he just didn’t need distractions, perhaps a bit too familiar with being subjected to testing. This had to be on the easier side, you figured. 

Once you both were finished, Bruce instructed you to take a seat and wait. He had some things to double-check. The longer you sat, the more you were worried it was bad news - but you didn’t even really know what bad news would actually entail. What was he looking for? How much of the bond could actually be seen? You hadn’t heard of this ever. If you did, you probably would’ve looked into it a long time ago just to clarify if you were fucked in the head or not.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asked, gently. You fiddled with your fingers, unsure. 

“It wasn’t so bad,” you said. “Just not sure what he’s going to find.” Bucky agreed and you two fell back into your silence as you waited. 

Minutes later, Bruce finally re-entered the room. You two must’ve been wearing hopeful looks because he motioned for you to calm down. Bruce wasn’t matching your excitement. Something twisted in your stomach. 

“I’ve reviewed your tests,” he said, holding up a folder labeled with your names. You two nodded. Bruce motioned towards you first and said, “Your test came back perfectly normal. Everything is fine with your part of the bond which quite surprised me but I checked and rechecked. The issues aren’t with you-,”

Bucky sighed, cutting Bruce off as he mentally pieced it together. “They’re with me.” 

You felt your body tense as Bucky looked defeated beside you. He wasn't meeting either of your gazes despite you trying to reach for his hand again. He shrugged it off, you quickly turned to Bruce. 

“What’s the problem?” You just about demanded. Bruce didn’t look very phased by your outburst. He pulled up a seat in front of you two looking like he had to mentally prepare himself for this.

“There’s an unnatural disturbance in Bucky’s side of the bond,” Bruce explained as he flipped open the folder. You didn’t even try to understand the printed results. Bucky was fully disconnected at this point. “I can’t say for sure what caused it, but if I had to guess when he underwent what...Hydra did, it affected lines in the transmission process. They probably thought they were severing the lines but they were really just scrambling them, hence the nightmares. They’re the dominant memories the bond reads in transmission. Bucky’s missions and recent healing process didn’t help anything. All in all, to put it simply, any intense moments Bucky experiences will be projected back to you due to a disconnect in the function of the bond.”

“So, I really was the cause of all this?” Bucky finally spoke up. His voice was hoarse, almost weak. You knew he thought his hair hid the look of distress written on his face but you could feel it. Boy, could you feel it. 

You immediately began shaking your head and reaching for him again. He didn’t move under your touch but at least he was allowing it. “This isn’t your fault, I promise.”

Bucky looked like he wanted to protest further but Bruce stopped him, “You couldn’t do anything to prevent this.” He looked back at you. “Either of you. These were the actions of some deranged individuals and they are the only ones responsible. I’m just sorry you two have to pay the price.”

“I-Is there anything we can do to fix it?”

Bruce closed the folder, looking more uncomfortable - if that was even possible. “I’m afraid not. It’s hard enough to damage soulmate bonds, essentially impossible to bandage.”

Upon hearing that, Bucky abruptly stood up. You jumped at the sudden action, suddenly convinced he was going to walk away. Forever. But instead, he made his way over to the window, his back towards you two, lost in whatever self-deprecating thoughts were flooding his brain. You’d address that later but were currently focused on pressing Bruce.

“There’s really nothing at all?” You were sounding desperate at this point but Bruce didn’t seem to mind, giving you the most sympathetic look.

“My best advice would be that Bucky finish his healing treatment and then get him out of this...profession.”

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you two now. “What, like retirement?”

Bruce shrugged. “Whatever you want to call it. Essentially, the less he fights, the less traumatizing situations he’s put in, the fewer nightmares you’ll have.” He glanced back at the folder. “In theory, you could be rid of them all. Get back to having actual dreams. It’s an optimistic take but you’ve already proven it’s possible to some degree.”

You looked over your shoulder, your worried eyes meeting Bucky’s intense ones. He wasn’t exactly protesting but you saw the hesitancy. You turned back to Bruce.

“Thank you for all your help,” you said.

He nodded. “I’m glad I could be of some assistance. If you ever want to look even further into it, I think I know someone else that could help.”

“I think we’ve learned enough for a while.” 

“Of course,” Bruce agreed and then stood from his chair. “I’ll let you two go. Probably got a few things to discuss. Call me if you need anything.” With that, he exited the lab, leaving just you and your soulmate to move forward. Somehow. 

Bucky had turned back to the window. You shifted in your seat, unsure of what to say now.

Thankfully, Bucky was the first to speak. “Do you want to get some dinner?”

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #while you sleep #soulmate au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #fluff #angst #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #avengers #fanfiction #fanfic

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Five)

Chapter Five: Royal Blue Napkins

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/N: i have totally reinvented the timeline of the show, just go with me. also...this chapter will take you on a RIDE.

Going home that night and getting into bed with her fiance was difficult for Y/N. Of course she knew it was technically wrong to have kissed Spencer back, but the problem is that she enjoyed it so much. Too much, probably. And that was alarming. Was it just because she was bored of kissing the same person for the past...what..11 years and just needed a (really) good kiss before she spent the rest of her life kissing the same man? Or was it because she knew that every neuron in her brain was usually firing at top speed at the near mention of Spencer Reid let alone finally know how her brain acted (nearly exploded) while kissing him?

The wedding was less than a month away now and Hotch was gracious enough to allow Y/N extra time out of the office, when things were calm, to meet with her wedding planner to finalize some decisions about the cake, venue, napkins, all that good stuff. In the middle of it, she caught herself wondering whether or not Spencer would like the color of napkin she chose, instead of her actual fiance. That was enough, the thought of Spencer now invaded officially every aspect of her life. She didn’t know what to do so she cornered JJ one day in her office and hurriedly shut the door behind her.

“JJ, I am freaking out about all this wedding stuff. I-I don’t know if I picked the right color for the napkins, oh God, I don’t even like royal blue! I just picked it because Grant likes it but what if it sucks because I don’t actually like it and it doesn’t match with the centerpieces and I-” she rambled but JJ promptly cut her off.

“Hey! Y/N, relax, take a seat. Take a deep breath.” Y/N followed her suggestions that felt more like orders and JJ watched her carefully, she wasn’t a profiler but she spent enough time around them to have picked up on subtle clues. She knew the woman sitting in front of her was an anxious mess and it was not about the napkins, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know if I like the napkins, JJ.” Y/N’s brows came together and she suddenly felt like crying, she couldn’t explain it, but she felt it.

“Y/N, you and I both know that napkins don’t make or break weddings.” JJ sent her a pointed look and Y/N began to feel small. She picked at her nails.

“Yeah? Well what does?” Y/N asked vaguely.

“What breaks weddings is an absence of love, Y/N.” She said simply and Y/N couldn’t help the frown that crept up on her face, but the blonde said nothing more.

The walk back to her desk was spent trying with extreme difficulty to not split her lip open from biting it too hard. The energy in the entire office was off, although Spencer has a new specific energy to him. He seems lighter somehow, he feels lighter too. Morgan doesn’t know exactly what happened between them but he could sense the shift in Reid’s behavior.

They’ve interacted, though briefly. Spencer pretended there was nothing wrong between them, while Y/N mulled over every interaction. Spencer literally had nothing left to lose, she’d made her choice and he’d accepted that, made peace with it even. He’d even gone as far as putting himself out there on the market. It was time to move on. There was just one aspect of the upcoming month that would make it extremely difficult to do so, so he made a decision.

“Hey, Y/N. Could I talk to you for a second?” Spencer said, leaning with his elbows over her desk as it neared their lunchtime.

“Yeah, of course, just one second... just saving this document. What’s up?” She smiled as she stared up at him, she was sure her heart was about to light on fire in her chest with the mere eye contact.

“Um, so you know how I’ve been meaning to visit my mom back in Vegas for a while now but I haven’t got the chance?” He began, idly playing with one of the candies in the candy bowl that was placed for guests.

“Yeah, of course! Are you planning on going?” She smiled wider, knowing just how much love this man had in his heart for his wonderful mother. Y/N had met Diana when she came into the office a few years back, actually she was the only one who Diana allowed to spend time with while the rest were in the field. Apparently, Spencer had told her more than enough information about Y/N before in his daily letters. Diana liked her years before she even met her.

“Yeah, I’m taking a week off, actually. I’m gonna spend it with her, I’ve missed her a lot.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly as he thought of the week off.

“That’s so awesome Spencer! Will you tell her how much I’ve missed her, oh, I know! I’ll just write her a letter and you can take it with you. When are you going by the way? Do I have time to write it?” She worried slightly, grabbing a pen in preparation and making Spencer laugh lightly at her excitement.

“Yes, yes you’ll have time. I’m leaving on the 16th of August, already booked the ticket.” His voice faltered slightly as he said the date.

“Wait, the 16th? But that means…” He won’t attend the wedding.

“I know, I’m sorry I can’t make it.” He genuinely frowned, knowing just how upset this would make her. Despite their feelings for one another, they were the closest of friends.

“Th-that’s okay! Um, we’ll just send you all the, uh, pictures and stuff.” Her bright smile faltered and Spencer swore he heard a tremble in her voice, the one she made when she was trying to hide how upset she really was.

“Yeah, send me all the pictures, I’m really sorry again, Y/N.” He sent her a look of sympathy, but she understood, he didn’t want to be there.

“No, no it’s okay. I get it, there’s only so many other weeks in the year you could take off, I guess.” she laughed bitterly, very obviously hurt, “Um, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go now. I have something um, for Hotch--Hotch asked for something.” She picked up a random file from her desk and quickly made her way across the bullpen and Spencer’s eyes stopped following her when she entered Hotch’s office. He released a heavy sigh and turned on his heels to leave the building for a lunch that was anywhere but there.

“What can I do for you, Y/N?” Hotch asked, barely looking up from his file at first but then her silence intrigued him to look up, spotting her watching from the window as Spencer left, “Everything alright?” His voice startled her and he immediately took in her glassy eyes and the nervous trembling of her fingers.

“Huh? Oh, um, yes, everything’s fine. Did you...ask for these?” She took a look at what she’d actually picked up and realized they were a bunch of useless forms that the unit chief certainly did not need to waste his time on. It was hard to hide his smirk, having figured out what had happened.

“Do you need to take a seat, Y/N?” He saw right through her, of course he did. She drew in a deep, shaky breath and shook her head.

“Did you know?” She asked in a small voice.

“He ran it by me, yes. I have to approve his time off. If it’s any consolation, I tried to-” He begad, but she interrupted.

“No, please. I’ve heard enough. Thanks Hotch.” She frowned as she made her way out of his office, praying that her tears would--just for once--stay within her waterline.

After that, Y/N barely spoke with Spencer. She found it hard to find the line between being upset with him and understanding why he’s doing what he’s doing. On one hand, she selfishly wanted her best friend to be at her wedding, but on the other, she understood that that was a huge thing to ask from the other man who loved her. He loved her. He loves her. That’s mind boggling to Y/N. Spencer loves her? Even almost 3 weeks after his confession, it’s all she can think about. He’s in love with her.

It was almost time for him to leave for Vegas. Despite her anger with Spencer, she still wrote Diana a letter. Upon finishing and sealing it, she realized she hadn’t even mentioned the wedding once. The (supposedly) single most important event that she would ever attend in her lifetime hadn’t even crossed her mind. She didn’t even give him the letter, she just left it on his desk for him to take. Despite that, Spencer still smiled at the fact that she’d written his mother a letter. His curiosity was killing him, but he’d just ask his mom what she’d written. At the end of the day before he left, he paused at Y/N’s desk, but she refused to look up.

“Bye, Y/N. Um, congratulations in advance.” Spencer spoke, clutching his messenger bag tightly, hoping she’d just look at him once. Hoping he’d get to see her eyes one last time before her soul was tied to another man’s for the rest of eternity.

“Bye, Spencer...have a safe flight.” She replied quietly, busying herself with whatever she was working on on her computer. A beat passed between them as Spencer waited to meet her eyes, but the moment never came. Pre-love confession Spencer would have gone on and on about how he technically had no control over whether or not it would be a safe flight, but now...now he knew his voice was the last thing she’d want to hear. His shoulders involuntarily slumped as he began to walk away from the love of his life. He knew he couldn’t be at that wedding, he just knew it. Hasn’t he been through enough already? Was life that adamant about making him hurt so badly?

But alas, fate was never on their side. Moments before boarding the plane to Vegas and barely three days before her wedding, the team was called in for an emergency case. She had taken a few days off before the wedding to get everything sorted and thankfully, the case was local so she didn’t have to book any hotel rooms or coordinate with the pilots of the jet. 

She had invited Garcia out with her to get a bridal manicure and pedicure on her lunch break, since she was the only one available.

“Pen, are you sure they don’t need you right now? I don’t want to interrupt the case.” Y/N signed into the phone.

“Trust me, Y/N/N, they don’t need me right now, besides this is the least I could do. All your plans for the week-of have been kinda ruined by this case. I wanna help you out the best I can! So I’m picking you up in 10 and we’re getting our nails done.” Y/N knew better than to argue with Garcia so she relented.

Near the end of their appointment, Garcia got a call from Hotch, “He’s what?! Oh no! Is he okay?! He’ll be okay, right?” Garcia half-panicked, sending Y/N right into a panic with her. Garcia paused and Hotch spoke over the phone, “Okay, we’ll be there as soon as we can.” She hung up and took a deep breath.

“Garcia, what happened! Is everyone okay?” Y/N asked hurriedly.

“Uh, no...actually Reid got shot in the field. The unsub shot him in the knee while trying to aim for the victim.” Garcia spoke slowly so as to not alarm her, but it was too late, Y/N was already pulling her hands away from the nail tech, who was almost done.

“WHAT?! Garcia! We have to go now! Is he okay?! Is he in the hospital? What hospital is he at? I’ll drive.” Y/N panicked, her breathing getting more and more shallow by the second.

“Y/N/N, calm down! Calm down! He’s fine, okay? He’s in surgery and you should absolutely not be driving right now. Take a few deep breaths please.” Her emotions were already all over the place because of the damn wedding, and now she had to worry about Spencer getting shot? Oh Lord, it was too much for her to handle.

“Garcia, I think I’m gonna pass out.” Y/N fanned her face and the waterworks began. Garcia quickly asked the nail tech if she could get Y/N some water.

“Oh! Oh, Y/N, baby don’t cry, please. He’ll be okay, he’ll probably be on crutches for a while but he’ll be fine.” Garcia tried to console her but the tears just kept coming. Y/N should have felt embarrassed whilst sobbing in the middle of the nail salon, but she was too overwhelmed to care at the moment. 

“I’m so sorry Garcia, it’s just all too much. I don’t want royal blue napkins, Garcia! I don’t even think I want a damn wedding! And I-I can’t believe Spence just got shot! This all just feels so wrong! You know what, this is all just one big warning sign from the universe, isn’t it?! And--and I don’t even want to marry Grant!” She blurted randomly in her fit of tears and she stopped crying out of realization of what she’d just confessed. Garcia gasped and her friend met her eyes, they stared at each other for a moment before Y/N broke out into tears again at the confession.

It was true.

She didn’t want to marry him.

Garcia apologized profusely to the nail techs and paid quickly before leading an almost hysterical Y/N out of the salon. 

Y/N clung to Penelope and sobbed into her shoulder on the sidewalk, “I don’t want to marry him, Garcia.”

“Y/N, the wedding is tomorrow.” Garcia’s eyes welled up with tears at the sight of her friend being so broken. Y/N shook her head and sniffled loudly, “Are you sure you’re not just super upset about Spencer getting shot?” Garcia continued, wanting Y/N to be absolutely sure of what she’s deciding.

Y/N pulled away from the embrace and stared at her friend, “M-maybe? I don’t know, I-I don’t know, Pen. Oh God, the wedding is tomorrow.” Y/N covered her face with her hands and tried to rub away all the stress and tears.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go see Spencer and make sure he’s alright, then you can take all the time you need to decide whether you want to call the wedding off or not, alright? How does that sound?” Garcia reasoned with her, slowly trying to remove her hands from her face.

Y/N nodded and took a few deep breaths, wiping away the last of her tears, “Let’s go see Spencer.”

When they’d arrived at the hospital, Spencer wasn’t out of surgery yet. The team was waiting around in the hospital chairs. The hospital felt cold, so unbelievably cold. Maybe it was Y/N literally getting cold feet. The team decided not to ask about the unmistakable redness around her eyes and nose. They just chalked it up to being scared for Spencer, but it was so much more than that. 

She hadn’t even looked at him before he left. She hadn’t seen his eyes or his face so full of its color in so long. When the Dr. announced he was out of surgery and that he should be waking up any minute, the team had decided to let Y/N in first. The sight of him sleeping in the hospital bed made her stomach lurch. She found it hard to contain her tears. It was almost as if her hand had a mind of its own as it reached out to smooth down his wild hair and caress his cheek. She pressed a soft kiss to the side of his head and watched as his eyelids fluttered slightly, but stayed closed. She swallowed heavily and wiped her eyes before walking back out to the team.

“He’s not awake yet, but I, uh...have to go. There’s something I need to take care of. Pen, update me when he wakes, please.” Y/N tried as hard as she could to even out her voice, but it trembled with every other word. Garcia nodded and before anyone could even say a word, she was out of the building. She checked the time and saw that Grant’s shift wasn’t over yet, and she had the house to herself for a bit.

As soon as she made it in, she picked the two biggest suitcases she owned and began to fill them with her things. She’d spent over 7 years in this apartment with Anderson, so many memories and so many laughs were spent here. 

But she couldn’t do it anymore. 

She didn’t want to have to go through a divorce, she couldn’t go through that. She’d rather not marry him at all. Within two hours, she had packed 7 years worth of her life into two huge suitcases. It was sad and she shed more than a few tears mulling over memories. But she saw her future and it wasn’t with Anderson. She placed the suitcases near the doorway and sat at the kitchen table, waiting for him to come home. Surely enough, Grant came through the door at exactly 5:53 pm, just like he did every day.

“Babe? You home? Hey, whose bags are these?” He said, slipping off his shoes and walking into the kitchen, “Is everything okay, Y/N?” He asked, spotting her in the kitchen with a glass of red wine and tears gathering in her eyes.

“What’s going on?” Anderson frowned.

“Um, so...I’ve been thinking. A lot, actually. And I kept asking myself why we waited so long to finally get married. We got engaged in college, Grant. That was ages ago. Most people get married like, right after graduation, but we didn’t do that. We moved here together, I shifted my entire life to fit with yours and yeah I have a great job, but I’m not happy.” She paused to sniffle, “And I think I’m not happy because this isn’t the life I want for me. I think we waited so long because we secretly didn’t really want it to happen, if I’m being honest. But now that it’s happening, I don’t think I can do it. I’m sorry. I just don’t see my future with you.” She frowned as tears clouded her vision. She temporarily let go of her wine glass to slip off her engagement ring and place it in front of him.

“I’m calling off the wedding.” She stated with finality. He looked devastated.

“Y/N, is this a joke?” He frowned, anger settling in.

“No, it’s not a joke, Grant. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to get back whatever I can from all the money we’ve spent on everything, but I’m leaving. Thank you for giving me so many irreplaceable memories. They mean more than you know.” She wiped her tears and got up from her seat.

“Wait, so does this mean you’re quitting the job?” He asked, still in awe of the situation.

“No, I’m staying at the BAU, I love it there, Hotch is a great boss.”

“So that’s it? You’re leaving me?” For the first time that night, his eyes welled up with tears.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m staying with Penelope until I can find a place to rent.” They hugged one last time and she took her things and left. 

Just like that. 

And she’d never felt lighter. She’d never felt more free.

***

Anderson had requested a transfer to a different unit and so they barely saw each other at work. Everything was going really well actually. Over the past two weeks, she allowed herself only one day of wallowing but her priorities were finding a new apartment to live in. They’d already spent so much money on the wedding, so it was difficult to be spending at the moment, but thankfully Garcia’s freezer was full of individually packed meals from the catering company. She lived off those so far and it’d probably stay that way for the next few months or at least until she found her own freezer to fill with individually packed meals.

She hadn’t seen Spencer since that day in the hospital because apartment hunting in DC turned out to be a nightmare. But it’s fine, she’s been getting all her information from Garcia since she’d been performing daily checkups on him since he’d started his medical leave. Apparently, the ever-so-stubborn Spencer decided to continue giving his guest lectures even on his crutches. Ever since Rossi joined the team, he’d been taking Spencer to different universities and they’d often give lectures together. Y/N should’ve been glad that he’d been leaving the house, but it was so hard not to worry about him. He should be coming in today, his two weeks of medical leave are technically over, but he can’t go out into the field yet.

Also, the team was about to get a new member. Y/N was super excited, she was the one who got to show new members around the office and introduce them to everyone. She was also super excited to finally see Spencer. The ding of the elevator sounded and Y/N leapt from her seat upon seeing Spencer waddle in on his crutches through the glass doors, which were being opened for him by a young-looking blonde woman.

“Spencer!” Y/N exclaimed, bounding over to him and making sure to hug him gently as to not topple him over or hurt him.

“Hey!” He smiled, attempting to return the hug without his arms.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re finally back! The place was starting to get a little depressing!” She smiled, a new happiness filling her. She only noticed the woman standing so close to Spencer when she pulled away.

“Thanks, it’s great to be back.” He smiled at her fondly, resting on his crutches. “Oh, Y/N, this is Agent Ashley Seaver. She’s the newest member of the BAU and actually my girlfriend.”

previous chapter/next chapter

feedback is always appreciated!

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[cinematicnomad]

2021 fic year in review 🌟

tagged by @woodchoc-magnum 🥰

total number of completed works: lol, 2

total word count: a v unimpressive 18,051

fandoms i’ve written in: 9-1-1

looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected: less—for one thing, i wrote a decent amount last year and the year before, and also i had a couple WIPs that i was really hoping i’d finish and then just...never managed to. they’ve been scrapped now 

what’s your own favorite story of the year? i wrote 2 fics total, and 1 was 16k AND YET, my personal favorite i think was so far from who i was which was a pre-canon margaret buckley POV fic

did you take any writing risks this year? no? 

do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? yeah, write MORE. 

most popular story of the year? technically lead me back (from the darkness) but that’s just bc there are only 2 fics to choose from. honestly this fic didn’t do anywhere near as well as i hoped—i think it got buried in the ao3 algorithm bc i posted it the weekend before s5 premiered and there were LOTS of speculation fics re:eddie fainting. it didn’t get as many hits as i expected and not as many comments as my other longer 911 fics. 

story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: clearly so far from who i was—even if i had written more than 2 fics this year, i can bet this one still would have been my least popular. it’s a gen fic from the POV of a character everyone hates and it’s kind of sympathetic to her. honestly i wish more people would give it a chance 

most fun story to write: hmm probably lead me back (from the darkness) just by virtue of it nOT making me cry like my other fic did lol (also this fic kind of poured out of me in one night which is always kind of exhilarating!) 

most unintentionally telling story: i mean, again, my options are limited, but probably the fact that i was able to write a sympathetic POV fic for margaret in so far from who i was reveals something about me 

biggest disappointment: i’ve talked about it before, but i had a WIP about buck and eddie painting a nursery for madney as a surprise and then talking about their dating lives. and i wrote like, 5k? but i took so long that i had to keep changing things about the fic—first it didn’t involve COVID, then it did, then i had to introduce ana, then taylor, then jee-yun was born!, then maddie’s PPD, then COVID lessening.....etc etc etc, i think i have like, 10 different files with different drafts of this fic at varying word counts. i really LIKED what i wrote at the start—but when i write fics like these i tend to try and knock them out in one go, and i remember when i started it was flowing like that...but it was the middle of a work day for me and i had to stop writing to join some zoom meetings and i just never picked that momentum back up. i had to finally scrap that WIP and accept it would never be finished. 

biggest surprise: i had literally no plans to write a s5 speculation fic and then 911 released the teaser of eddie having a panic attack and just...BOOM. i wrote lead me back (from the darkness) in about 11 hours. 

my favorite part of the fandom this year: forever my favorite PERSONAL part is beta’ing @woodchoc-magnum‘s fics. sometimes canon lets me down, but i always have a new felicity fic to look forward to that i know will give me just want i want 😊

tagging: @extasiswings, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @tylerhunklin, @zainclaw, @zeethebooknerd, @marvelingjules, @thisissirius, @chiquititadiaz, and anyone else who wants to do this 

#tagged in #about kat writes #i did not write much this year tbh #so answering this was kind of funny lol #just me on repeat talking about the same two fics over and over and over again #sorry #lead me back (from the darkness) #so far from who i was

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt.3

Part One, Part Two, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Longer one this time! As always, let me know if you want to get tagged in the next part.)

—————————-

“I hate this,” you whined, as Garcia pulled you through the crowded streets, “why didn’t we drive straight to the office, again?”

“Because, my little Grumpy Gus, you look like you barely slept, and this place has the best coffee in the city.” She promised, giving your arm a squeeze.

You grumbled under your breath, but didn’t complain, letting Garcia ply you with endless cups of coffee.

“Are we getting for the whole team?” You asked, your mind drifting to your late night message to Spencer.

Garcia paused, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, “Yeeeeees, why?”

You shrugged, “I was just asking. No need to read into anything.”

“This is about Spencer, I can tell. Spill it.”

You groaned, letting your head thump down onto the table, “How do you do that?”

“I’m a veritable fountain of knowledge, Y/N, you know this,” she teased, “plus I speak fluent Y/N, especially the little known Spencer Reid dialect.”

“Witch!” You said accusingly, “You’re a witch!”

“You flatter me,” she winked, tapping your forearm, “now spill it.”

You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee, “It’s nothing, I just-I messaged him, alright?”

“You did what?”

“I messaged him! And it was stupid and he didn’t even respond, so it’s not important.” You explained, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Penelope gasped, “He didn’t respond?”

You shook your head, “Nope. Nothing, look-“

You took out your phone and glanced briefly at the screen, frowning when you spotted the notification from the night before. You swiped up, your eyes tracing his response. Something in your stomach pinched.

“Huh.”

“What?” Penelope asked, “What is it? You’re legally obligated to tell me, it’s in the rules.”

“He-uh-“ you stared at the screen, still frowning, “he responded. I must’ve fallen asleep…”

“Ooohhh my gosh, what does it say? What did you say? Is it romantic?”

You pressed your lips together, your mind whirling at a thousand miles an hour as you try to figure exactly what Spencer meant by “I did.”.

“It’s-“ you shook your head, “I don’t know really.”

Something in your tone must’ve let on how conflicted you were feeling because Penelope let the matter slide, just giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

“Let’s get to work, Sugar,” she said, standing and extending her hand for you to hold, “we’ve got crimes to solve.”

You gave her a weak smile but let her pull you to your feet, trying to force your mind away from Spencer and back onto your case.

“That we do, Garcia, that we do.”

——————————-

“We come bearing gifts,” Garcia announced as she pushed open the door to the BAU, “sustenance in the form of sweet, sweet caffeine.”

Your eyes instantly flew to Spencer, giving him a weak smile which, to your intense relief, he returned. You also noticed, with a rush of fondness, that he’d kept your side of the desk clear.

“Garcia you’re an angel,” Emily smiled, pushing away from her desk to accept a cup.

“Speaking of angels,” you sighed, carrying a cup of coffee flavored sugar over to Spencer and taking your seat next to him, “have we got an ID on our victim yet?”

“Marcus Wilcox,” Spencer said, flipping open the file closest to you, “25 year old drug addict and male prostitute. He went missing two weeks ago and was reported missing by his best friend.”

You glanced over at the picture of the man whose body had been left in your bookstore and felt the familiar pang of sorrow in your chest. There was always going to be another one, another life cut short, another dead son or daughter who’s family would grieve their loss for years. It was enough to put a damper on anyone’s morning.

You could feel eyes on you, heavy and questioning and you found you couldn’t look up to meet their gaze.

“Anything unusual in the M.E.’s report?” You asked, still avoiding the eyes.

“All the mutilation was done postmortem, so that rules out sadism as a motive,” JJ suggested, accepting a cup of coffee gratefully.

“High levels of caffeine in the blood too,” Emily pointed out, “and…” she pressed her lips together.

“What, Em?” You asked.

She looked up at you nervously, something like sympathy in her eyes as she said, “Biscuits, in his stomach. They found brown butter biscuits and coffee in his stomach.”

Your blood froze and you felt a rush of nausea. You put your cup down, suddenly not thirsty anymore.

“Is...that significant, somehow?” Hotch asked, his perpetual frown firmly in place.

“They’re the best sellers at Y/N’s coffee shop,” Spencer said, something off in his voice, “she sells them fresh every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.”

You looked over, shocked, and noticed that Spencer was working his jaw, like he was angry, his one hand curled into a fist under his chin. You itched to reach out and touch his forearm, like you once would have, but you restrained yourself.

“What the hell is this guy doing?” Emily asked, “Why go through all this trouble to personalize the crime? What’s driving him?”

“It’s gotta be erotomania, right?” Morgan asked, “Someone’s trying to get Y/N’s attention.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you insisted, frustrated with having the same conversation again and again, “stalkers don’t start off with an elaborate and expertly executed murder. If it was erotomania, why not call first, or email or leave notes at my apartment? There’s been no build up to this sort of violence.”

“Plus, the victim has no connection to Y/N,” Spencer pointed out, “erotomaniacs want to reinforce their supposed devotion to the object of their affection, if he wanted to do that he would’ve picked someone Y/N knew, like an ex-boyfriend or an enemy of some kind.”

“Some who he thinks Y/N would actually want dead,” Emily agreed.

“Reid and Y/L/N are right, there’s something more to this, something we’ve missed,” Hotch said, “Garcia, I want you to go through everything you can find about Marcus Wilcox and see if he came into Y/N’s store at all. Maybe he’s a customer who was rude and offended the UnSub. After that, comb through Y/L/N’s life again; old friends, high school classmates, college professors, agents she worked with on cases, anyone who could have formed an attachment and been stalking her without us knowing.”

Garcia paled under her Barbie pink lipstick, “Sir, I-“

“It’s fine, Garcia,” you assured, giving her a soft smile, “I’ve got nothing to hide. You’ll have to get permission from the CIA to access some of my case files though, there’s some sensitive data in those.”

“I’ll call the director myself,” Hotch said, “that’ll expedite the process.”

“But, sir, sorting through all that data could take weeks,” you pointed out, “what do we do in the meantime?”

Hotch pressed his lips together, and you sighed, sensing his next words before they even came out of his mouth.

“We work cases, as usual,” he said, “Y/N, yours will still be our priority but, until we get a new lead…”

“We’re stuck.” You finished. You breathed in, trying to calm your restless nerves, and pushed yourself up, “Well, it was lovely seeing you guys again, but I guess that’s my cue.”

“What?” Spencer said, sitting up suddenly, “No, Y/N you can’t just leave, if there’s someone out there delusional enough to do this to get your attention then it’s not safe.”

“I’m with Boy Wonder,” Garcia agreed, shooting you an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Sugar Plum but this whole thing is just icky and gross and I’d feel much better knowing you were here.”

You looked around, but we’re met with a wall of concerned faces. You wanted to scream. Nothing about this situation was fair. You hated feeling helpless, it was why you’d joined the FBI in the first place and, ultimately, why you’d left.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do while we wait for a lead?” You asked, “I can’t go home, I can’t go back to work, I can’t just sit here all day until my assigned babysitter for the night is free.”

“You could join us on cases,” Hotch said simply, “if I’m not mistaken, you’re still officially an agent so you’re cleared to be in the field.”

Spencer and Emily sucked in a breath in unison, and you shut your eyes. Shit.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Emily asked, “You never actually resigned?”

You shot her a sheepish look, “I meant to! I did! It was just,” you shrugged, “at first I wanted the safety blanket in case normal life didn’t work out and, once it did, I just-“ you trailed off.

Truth be told, you didn’t know why you’d never left. It was really only one document that you needed to sign, it would take less than three minutes to complete, there was nothing stopping you. You’d even filled it out once or twice but, for some reason, you always stopped before actually submitting it.

You shot a nervous look at Spencer, who was determinedly avoiding looking at anything except a particular patch of empty air, and sighed.

“So...what does that mean?” Morgan asked, “You’re back on the team?”

“Agent Y/L/N has technically been on an extended sabbatical for the past year,” Hotch explained, “ideally we would be able to keep her on in an advisory capacity while we work her case but, with her safety being such an issue, for the time being, yes, she’s back on the team.”

——————————-

You collapsed into your old seat on the jet, exhaustion weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It had taken almost no time for Hotch and Garcia to brief you on the team’s newest case and, before you could even pack a proper Go-Bag, you were wheels up and on your way to Tampa Bay. It was a fairly standard case, or as standard as it got for the BAU at least, and it had only taken three days to catch the guy, but it had still taken the life right out of you. Hotch had noticed your distress and sent you ahead to the jet with Rossi while the rest of the team finished packing up. On the one hand you resented being treated like a child, on the other….well, you were exhausted.

Rossi sat down across the aisle from you, handing you a mug of warm hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully. He raised his eyebrows in that grandfatherly way, like he was asking you a question, and you smiled.

“What?” You asked, “I can tell you’re thinking something.”

“You love this” he said simply.

“Love it?” You laughed incredulously, “Rossi I haven’t been this tired since I spent three full days setting up my shop. I’m exhausted.”

“And you love it,” he insisted, “I can see that Evil Genius sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours.” He gestured at your face and you smiled, “Not that I blame you. Catching killers tends to be more exciting than baking cookies.”

“Hey, I thought you loved it when I made cookies!” You complained, whacking his hand away in mock outrage, “You said they were your favorite!”

“They are, I’m just making a simple observation, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” you said suspiciously.

“Here’s another one; there’s tension between you and the Good Doctor,” he continued.

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t disagree, letting your mind wander back to the last three days. After Hotch’s little announcement to the team, things had been...odd with Spencer. Actually, you couldn’t be sure that was the catalyst, for all you knew things could’ve been weird before that but, now it was just impossible to miss. He would bounce between avoiding you like the plague and actively seeking out your company; sitting next to you at dinner one minute and then purposely standing as far away as possible the next minute. It sucked. It sucked and it hurt your feelings and it was confusing, so there was no point in denying it to Rossi.

“I just wish he’d talk to me, you know?” You said, “Or yell, or shout or something. Like, if you’re angry then be angry. At least then we could talk it out, but this-“ you shook your head, “I hate it.”

“Ah, kid,” Rossi commiserated, patting your knee comfortingly, “I don’t think he’s angry, and that’s probably part of the problem.” You looked up, confused, and Rossi continued, “If he was angry, things would be a lot simpler. Like you said, you could just yell for a bit, and then it’d be over. No, I think Spencer’s just hurt and confused. He blames himself for you leaving and, now that you’re back, he’s happy, but he feels guilty about being happy because you’re in danger.” He explained, “It’s a confusing time for him, for you both.”

You sat up, “Wait why would he blame himself for me leaving?”

Rossi looked down, like he was thinking hard but, before he could say anything, you heard footsteps and the rest of your team boarded the jet. You shot Rossi a look that said “we’ll finish this later”, and then turned away, smiling at your friends.

“Hey,” you greeted, letting Morgan ruffle your hair.

JJ gave you a small smile, but your eyes went straight to Spencer, Rossi’s words bouncing around inside your head. To your surprise, he collapsed into the seat beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I-uh-I was hoping we could talk.”

Your heart leapt, but you tried to keep your face neutral as you answered, “Sure thing, Reid. What about? The case?”

“Actually,” he said, his voice still low, “I wanted to talk about you.”

You pressed your lips together, but nodded, following Spencer’s lead and leaning in to avoid being overheard as your team settled in for the flight home.

Spencer was silent for a moment, like he was thinking, and then, “Why didn’t you resign? I thought you wanted out.”

“I did, or I thought I did. Reid, when I first left I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I guess I wanted to be able to come back if things went wrong.” You explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You paused for a moment, “Spence-“

His breath hitched in his throat, “The first time, when you were thinking about leaving. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-“ you sighed, the exhaustion rolling over you like a river, “I didn’t want to worry you until I was sure and then, after that….” you shrugged, “it all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, like he understood, and you watched some of the tension leech out of his body. For the first time he met your eye, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He said.

“Spence you’ve got nothing to-“

“I do,” he interrupted, “I promised you that we’d always be best friends and then, after you left, I just stopped trying.”

You were conflicted. Some part of you had been longing to hear this for months, ever since the texts, visits and calls had stopped out of the blue but, now that you were actually hearing it, it just made you sad.

“You did try,” you reminded him, “you came to the store a few times, helped me organize my books.”

He shook his head, “Not often enough. It just-it just got so hard, you know? Seeing you every weekend and knowing you weren’t going to be there when I got to work the next day,” he explained, his voice cracking, “watching you have this whole life outside of us, it just started to feel like maybe I didn’t fit-maybe we didn’t fit.” He gestured to the team, “And I thought maybe you were better off-“ he trailed off.

“Hey,” you cut in, reaching out and covering his hand with yours, “hey, listen to me. You guys are my family. You’ll always be my family, no matter what happens. I’m sorry you ever felt like anything else was even possible. I could never be better off without you guys.”

The hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth, and he squeezed your hand gently.

“If it’s okay,” he said, still smiling hopefully, “I’d really like for us to be friends again. I know I broke a solemn oath but, if you’ll trust me, I’ll never let it happen again, I promise.”

Your smile felt so wide that it hurt your cheeks as you pulled him into a hug, savoring the way he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“Of course, Spence,” you smiled, still holding him close, “of course.”

“God, I missed you,” he admitted into your neck, “no one else pretends to care about Star Trek as well as you do.”

You laughed and let him go, feeling the distance that had formed over the last year vanishing bit by bit.

“I’ve missed you too, Doctor Reid.” You said, “But, I’ll admit, I haven’t missed the Star Trek talk as much.”

“None of us miss the Star Trek talk,” Derek said, making you both jump, “honestly, I miss not knowing about Star Trek.”

“Preach,” JJ agreed, “Y/N/N, I know you’re in charge of what we watch tonight but I’m begging you, please pick something made for adults? I’ve been watching nothing but Marvel and Disney for months.”

“But I love Disney,” Emily complained.

“Rest assured,” Rossi interrupted, “it’s my entertainment system and I don’t even have any Disney.”

“You have Lord of The Rings though, right?” Spencer asked.

You watched your team bicker amongst themselves, laughing like you hadn’t laughed in months. Being together like this was like a healing balm for your frayed nerves, bringing you back to a place of calm, like you’d just come home from a long trip. In the back of your mind, you knew there was still work to be done, old wounds you needed to address and mysteries you needed to solve but, for now, you were just happy to be with your family. For now, this was enough.

—————————

Spencer felt like he was living in some sort of strange fever dream, like all his months of sulking had finally driven him mad and now he was physically imagining things as he helped you out of his car. Touching you always made him a little dizzy but, over the years that you’d worked together every day, he’d managed to build up a tolerance, a tolerance that was now almost completely gone. It had been months since everyone had agreed to have family dinner at Rossi’s, but now that you were back, he’d insisted. Spencer was on cloud nine. He had his best friend back and, for the first time since you’d left, things felt good again, like he was exactly where he should be.

As you sat around Rossi’s table, swapping stories and reminiscing over the past, Spencer had to fight to stop from staring at you. You were really there. He could reach out and touch you. If he called your name you would respond and your eyes would light up the way they always had, like he was the only person in the world you wanted to see. It was surreal. In the back of his mind, Spencer knew he was being selfish, that he shouldn’t want you to stay this time and he should be itching to find out who was stalking you so that you could go back to the life you’d built. But he wasn’t.

When JJ had gotten the call that you needed them, Spencer had thought his heart was going to implode from all the pent up longing he’d kept stored away. Seeing you hadn’t exactly improved things. He’d spent the entire day trying to hold himself together, unsure of how to act around you, playing through every single memory he’d been keeping repressed for all this time like it would somehow give him the answer. God, half the time he’d wanted to scream, the other half he’d wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go ever again. As his eyes traced the plains of your face, plains he’d memorized a million different times, he felt a flicker of that old flame burn in his chest, like the embers of a fire that had never really been put out, and he sighed.

“Hey, kid, where’s your head?” Morgan asked, his voice soft enough to avoid being overheard.

“Hmm? What?” Spencer replied, tearing his eyes away from you as you laughed at something Garcia said.

“Your head,” he repeated, where’s it at?”

Spencer thought for a minute, and then smiled, “I’m good. Really good, actually.”

Morgan nodded, a little too knowingly for Spencer’s liking, but let the matter drop. Just then, the unmistakable ping of Hotch’s cell cut through the late night air and, as if on cue, every eye in the house turned to face the sound. Hotch examined his phone, his frown deepening and sending shivers of worry up Spencer’s neck. He wanted to say something, to stop Hotch from giving them whatever horrible piece of news was on that phone, but he couldn’t. He just sat and waited, like everybody else.

“Hotch?” JJ eventually asked, her hand gripping yours, hard.

“They-uh-” Hotch started, showing a rare moment of nerves, “they found another note at Y/N’s apartment.”

Several people swore, Garcia whimpered, Derek slammed his fist against the table, but you just stared straight ahead, your face stony and unmoving. Spencer wanted to reach out, but he was frozen in place.

“What did it say?” You asked, “Is it another love poem?”

“No,” Hotch answered, “it’s a string of numbers; 29.07.15/18.01.14/38.8765.77.0006.”

“Reid, you got that?” Morgan asked, shooting him a look.

Spencer felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he nodded, “I’ve got it.”

“But, that’s not all, is it?” Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head, “They found another body. This time in an empty storefront a few blocks away from Y/N’s apartment.”

“Probably the site I’d picked out for the second branch,” you supplied, “I just signed the deal three weeks ago.”

You buried your face in your hands, sighing as the atmosphere around the dinner table took a turn for the worst.

“Well,” Emily said, “Looks like we’ve got our lead.”

Hotch nodded, “Let’s get to work.”

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

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[quinncupine]

Obscured Chapter Two: Back To Work

Chapter Word Count: 2,952

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Link: AO3

Previous Chapter: One

Next Chapter: Three

MASTERLIST

...

It didn't exactly surprise Izuku when the hoard of journalists jumped him once he arrived at the hero agency. They surrounded his car as soon as he parked. We wasn't sure how they could pop up that fast with all that heavy camera equipment. They probably trained for it, it seemed they literally chased leads these days.

He stepped out, wearing his signature smile he'd perfected years ago for the public. Camera's and microphones were shoved in his face as they hit him with all sorts of questions. So many talked at once that they drowned each other out.

"Deku, Deku!" Once of them shouted. "Tell us, what have you been doing these past two weeks?"

Deku didn't see a way out of the little crowd that formed around him.

"Have you been investigating the murder of Kanaye Tatsuya?" Another asked.

He gently pushed his way through, he really didn't feel like answering any questions.

"What about your wife?" Someone stubbornly blocked his path. "How is she handling all this?"

"Yes," Another added. "Where is Y/N Midoriya? What precautions are you taking to protect your family?"

They were rapid firing questions too fast for him to think of any safe answers to give.

"Do you think villains will continue to target your family?" Someone yelled above the rest of the chatter.

Izuku glanced around him, nervously flexing his hands. He'd forgotten how...persistent these reporters could be. Camera's flashed in his face. They were waiting for him to show some sort of emotion, not that they didn't know he was the emotional type, that was public knowledge by now. They were waiting for something juicy to gossip about, but he held firm, keeping that soft smile on his face as he tried to think of something to say that would satiate them for the time being. It was a hard thing to do when surrounded by wolves, ready to rip apart their prey.

"Well, I, uh..." Yeah, he was great with words. "Mr. Tatsuya's death is under police investigation. They will do everything in their power to find the one responsible."

"Are you saying that you're not involved in this case anymore?"

"I-"

Someone cut him off. "Are you happy Mr. Tatsuya is dead? He kidnapped and attacked your wife, you must hate the man."

Izuku frowned. They were trying to lure him into a trap, to get him to say something he'd eventually regret.

"Some are saying you had a hand in this?" A man shouted from somewhere within the crowd, holding his mic over a few heads. "Is that true?"

Izuku's calm façade faltered for a moment, ready to counter him, but he froze. He couldn't let himself get bested by some hungry gossipers. He looked for another escape route, but they had surrounded him with a wall of people.

One of the reporters stepped too close to Izuku, a cheeky looking redhead with a wide grin. "There are a lot of rumors out there. Some are saying a diehard fan killed him for you, yet there are others that say it was a plot devised by a drug ring based in Tokyo." She stuck the mic in his face. "What are your thoughts Deku?"

Woah, that information was not supposed to be public knowledge and based on the reactions of the others, they didn't know this info yet either. How the hell did this woman know about the Kobaruto? Someone was feeding her information.

The others went wild, tossing crazy and speculative assumptions around, waiting for him to answer the question.

"Uh..."

Fortunately, he was cut off when someone roared behind him.

"Buzz of vultures!" Bakugo yelled. "This is private property."

The reporters took one look at Bakugo and scrambled away as he stalked over. Even they weren't dumb enough to mess with someone like Katsuki Bakugo, especially if he appeared to be in a bad mood, which was most of the time. They learned early on that the now number two hero doesn't take ambush journalism kindly.

"Kacchan?" Izuku blinked. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think dumbass?" Bakugo grabbed Izuku by the collar of his jacket and dragged him into the building.

Once they were inside and out of prying eyes, Izuku freed himself, straightening out his jacket. Bakugo was wearing civilian clothes which surprised Izuku, he was supposed to be working today.

"You found something, didn't you?" Izuku's eyes widened.

Bakugo growled and kept walking. "Office, now."

Izuku caught up to him and they walked together through the building. Every time they ran into an intern or sidekick, they were stopped as they welcomed Deku back. Bakugo looked irritated, but kept his mouth shut. The entire place seemed to buzz with excitement now that Deku had returned. It had been a strange two weeks without him there.

When Izuku finally made it to his office, he saw Shoto waiting inside, leaning on one of the couches.

"Shoto," Izuku paused at the open doorway. "Is everything alright?"

Shoto straightened himself, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, things are fine."

Bakugo pushed past Izuku and sneered at Shoto. "What's this bastard doing here?'

"I could say the same for you." He crossed his arms.

Izuku glanced outside before shutting the door. "Kacchan is helping me with the investigation."

"I came to offer my assistance as well."

"Pass, we got enough losers on this case as it is." Bakugo stuck his thumb at Izuku.

"Midoriya, I want to help."

Izuku looked at Shoto. He valued him as a close friend and comrade, probably his closest friend, and yet these past few weeks were strenuous on both parties. Shoto was still holding that anvil of self-hatred over his head and it was getting heavier and heavier to carry.

He blamed himself for almost seriously injuring you when they had all come to your rescue. Since then, Shoto seemed to only be distancing himself from the both of you. He barely talked to Izuku, who had tried several times to get through to him, and completely avoided you altogether, as if that would somehow fix things. Poor Momo was acting as middle-man between the two of you since Shoto refused to talk.

"Alright," He said after a long moment of debate. "But you can't keep avoiding...people. This case revolves around her."

Shoto lowered his head. "I apologize. I realize that I've been acting-"

"Like an asshole?" Bakugo supplied.

"Childish." He finished. "There is a lot of unresolved issues that I hadn't realized were still there." He looked up. "But I want to help now."

Izuku studied him. He was standing taller, a more confident shine to his eyes, something he was seriously lacking these last few weeks. Between the cracks of that old familiar wall Shoto had buried himself behind again, he saw remnants of his friend.

Izuku beckoned him to follow as he went behind his desk. He set his bag on the top and pulled out a large stack of folders. It was a mess of sticky notes, tabs, and a few coffee stains. His handwriting was scribbled in every blank space he could find, all his thoughts put in pen.

"These are the case files." He handed them to Shoto. "Everything Tsukauchi gave me."

Shoto leafed through them. "Are you sure it's the Kobaruto behind this?"

"I know they're connected somehow." He crossed his arms. "Tatsuya was dealing with them, and they're the only known suppliers of Trace."

"Trace. It's fairly new, right?" Shoto pulled out a crumpled paper and looked it over.

"Yeah, started showing up a little over six months ago." He nodded. "It's reminiscent of Trigger. They share similar traits. I wouldn't be surprised if this is some variant of it."

"Trigger. The quirk enhancing drug." Shoto looked up. "I haven't seen that in a while."

"Apparently, Trace is the new drug of choice now." Izuku narrowed his eyes. "But they're careful who they sell to. We haven't been able to catch any of the dealers yet."

"And we can't rely on the druggie's." Bakugo said. "Trace degrades your mental state." He shook his head. "No, more like shreds it. Even if Tatsuya wasn't killed, he was never going to recover after months of that kind of abuse."

"What do you know about the Kobaruto?" Shoto asked.

"That's the problem." Izuku frowned. "We know next to nothing about them. They appeared out of the blue one day with a brand new drug. They might be small, but they know how to evade us."

"That's because I wasn't looking for them before." Bakugo punched his hands together. "I'll find them and destroy every last one of those bastards."

Shoto placed the files back inside the folder as neatly as he could. The colored tabs stuck out at various angles looking like the entire might explode any second.

He tapped the top of the folder. "I'll follow up on some of these leads. I'll let you know what I find."

"Shoto," Izuku called as he turned to leave. "Don't talk to anyone else about this. For now, it's still technically in Tsukauchi's jurisdiction. There is no official co-op on this."

He nodded and left quietly, closing the door behind him.

As soon as they were alone, Bakugo rounded on Izuku. "You sure he's up for this? The bastard's been flakey as of late." He narrowed his eyes. "I can beat some sense into him."

Izuku stared at the door. "You know he's always been insecure about his fire. What happened just pushed him over the edge." He shook his head. "He won't talk to me about it and he won't even look at Y/N."

Bakugo rested his palms on the back of a chair. "He's an idiot, that's nothing new."

Izuku plopped in his chair behind the desk and rubbed his head. "You found something right?"

Bakugo glanced at the door before sitting in front of the desk. "Yeah, about that imposter at the police station. I've been looking into it."

Izuku sat up. "What did you find?"

"Nothing much." He grumbled. "If this guy was good enough to impersonate All Might, in front of Tsukauchi no less, then he's good at covering this tracks."

Izuku leaned back, folded his hands and stared out the large windows that covered half his office. The first sign of the sun was just coming over the horizon and cast gentle waves of light through the office. It usually calmed him down, but today, it seemed like his nerves were ready to break straight through the window.

"This isn't good."

"No, it isn't." Bakugo agreed. "But I did find one thing."

Izuku looked back at him.

Bakugo pulled out his phone and set in on the desk. The screen showed a grainy picture taken in the dark. It was hard to make it out, but it was clearly a figure that was running across what looked to be a rooftop. The only distinguishable trait was the blue Kabuki mask underneath a black hood.

Izuku picked up the phone and examined the picture closely. "Who is this?"

"Don't know." Bakugo crossed his arms, a deep frown on his face. "This is the only solid picture I could find. Guy's a ghost."

"You think he's connected to the Kobaruto somehow?" Izuku zoomed in on the mask.

"There's been rumors spreading around the underworld, about a man in a mask." Bakugo took the phone back.

"So how's he connected?"

"Eyewitness reports put him in their territory." He leaned forward. "I don't have any solid evidence yet, but if I had to guess, I would say he's one of their runners."

"If we can bring this guy in- Izuku stood up. "-then he could actually give us some answers."

"Now that sounds fun." Bakugo smirked. "He likes to roam the Maridun district, but he only seems to come out at night to play."

"Then we'll wait for night to head out."

"No way, this is my lead." Bakugo stood up.

"But-"

"No. Besides, you have other things to take care of." He narrowed his eyes, daring Izuku to argue.

They had a glaring contest before Izuku huffed and looked down. Again, he felt conflicted. He really wanted to track down this guy. The sooner they could solve this case, the sooner everyone could get their lives back on track. On the other hand, he didn't want to leave you alone for so long, not when there were so many serious dangers still lurking out there. He ran through all the scenarios in his mind, trying to find a way to do both, but Bakugo was right.

"Fine," He relented. "But at least bring someone with you. Shoto wou-"

"Hell no!" Bakugo yelled. "I'm not going anywhere with two face."

"Kacchan..."

Bakugo ground his teeth and looked away. "I'll bring Kirishima in on this. I trust him."

Izuku nodded. "Fine. Keep me updated."

"I'll let you know when I bring this fucker in." Bakugo pocketed his phone and turned to leave.

"Thanks," Izuku said quietly as he reached the door. "Kacchan."

Bakugo looked him over and left.

Izuku deflated into his chair, running a hand through his hair. This case was growing more and more complicated by the minute. There was just no way that Tatsuya's death was a coincidence, everyone knew that, even the media had come to the same conclusion. There was something bigger behind this, he was sure of it. That's why he didn't want to leave you, even if Ochaco and Momo were with you. You were his responsibility to keep safe and so far, he'd failed pretty miserably at that.

His phone rang, startling him. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the caller I.D. and saw your name. A million thoughts ran through his head, most of them not good, as he answered the phone.

"Y/N, is everything okay?" He practically yelled into the phone.

"What? Of course." You answered casually. "I just thought I'd call to make sure everything was going well. The media's already twisting your words."

"You know you shouldn't watch the news." He leaned back in his chair. "It'll rot your common sense."

"Yeah, well, there's not much else to do when you're stuck inside all day." You grumbled.

Izuku frowned. "I'm sorry. This is my fault-"

"Hey, what did I say about throwing self-pity parties?" You scolded.

He rubbed his eyes with a smirk. "Sorry."

"And stop it with all this sorry crap. Sorry is for idiots who actually did something stupid." You huffed. "And don't think I don't see all those heroes casually strolling past the house. I know you asked them to."

Izuku rubbed his neck. "Uh, well..."

"Yeah, yeah," You sighed. "I know you're just worried. I also know that you're keeping things from me."

"W-what do you mean?" A lump formed in his throat.

"I know there are certain things you don't tell me. Stuff about your hero work and I get that, but..." You paused. "You would tell me if there was more to this, right?"

You were smart. You could always catch him in a lie. He hated lying to you, it felt horrible, but he also hated the look that crossed your face whenever Tatsuya was brought up. It was still affecting you big time and he couldn't stand to see you so upset. Nothing good would come of it if you were let in on the case, so there was really no need to tell you. At least that's how he justified it.

"Look, Y/N, I-"

"Save it." You interrupted him. "Just go back to work...and stay safe."

"Yeah." He said quietly. "I'll be home before dinner."

"Ok. Love you." You muttered.

"Love you too."

You hung up before he could even finish, leaving him with a sour taste in his mouth. You had every right to be upset, but you were keeping it all to yourself. You didn't let Izuku in on your personal thoughts anymore like you used to. There was a growing gap between the two of you and he didn't like it one bit. Everything he did seemed to only widen that gap and he wasn't sure how to build the bridge over it.

He groaned and laid his head on the desk. The cool wood felt comforting and he closed his eyes for a minute, trying to get in the right headspace to start the day. He was scheduled to start patrols again, but at the moment, his heart just wasn't in it.

After awhile, the phone on his desk rang and he almost vaulted out of his chair to reach it. "Hello?"

"Midoriya." It was Tsukauchi. "Sorry to call so early."

It's fine chief, what is it?" Izuku felt his stomach churn, Tsukauchi's voice sounded tight.

"You know the Hashira gang?" He asked. "They run drugs, mainly operating out in the Agamar Quarter."

Izuku nodded. "Yeah, small-time. What about them?"

"We just found them."

"What do you mean?" He had an excellent guess as to what he meant.

"They were all killed last night." Tsukauchi said. "Got an anonymous tip this morning on where to find them. It's a real mess out here."

"The entire gang was taken out?" Izuku stood up, gripping onto the cord. "A gang war?"

It couldn't be a coincidence that a rival gang was just exterminated. This was a big move, one with a lot of consequences.

"Possibly. We just got here. I'll know more when I inspect the scene, but," He paused. "Well, you need to get down here. There's something you need to see."

If that didn't spell ominous, Izuku wasn't sure what would.

"I'm on my way."

It seemed he'd have to postpone patrols for a little while longer.

Tag List: @miriobaby @hmm-cats @thecindy @awilddreamerwrites @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku @sailorstupidsblog @kehlaniwwe

...

Chapter 3

If you wanna be added to the tag list just let me know!!! Thanks Loves!

#izuku midoria x reader #deku x reader #pro hero Deku #pro hero bakugo #my hero academia #bnha #mha #taken series #deku #midoriya izuku #izuku x reader #izuku x y/n #language #boku no hero academia #reader insert #midoriya x reader #pro hero todoroki #Naomasa Tsukauchi

[artificialqueens]

You Light a Fire in My Heart (Rosénali) - Moonshot

A/N: I wasn’t expecting to write a follow-up to the first diner au this fast but I’ve genuinely fallen in love with the little au verse I’ve created. For context, this is set about a year after the events of ‘On The Ground’, and it spans across three months (March, April, and May). Flashbacks are in italics, and I hope you enjoy it x

Summary: The time(s) Rosé tried to be the best girlfriend to her Nali

Also on Ao3

-

If you had told Rosé a year ago that she would be dating one of the most amazing girls she’d ever met in her life, she would have believed you. Who wouldn’t want to date a fine bonnie lass like her?

What she wouldn’t have believed would have been that she was admittedly a tiny bit jealous of her girlfriend’s crush for a K-pop singer that shared her name.

Rosé was working on her laptop, busy mixing a track she had recorded with Jan and Lagoona when Denali had walked into the living room.

“OH MY GOD! I just finished watching Blackpink’s interview with James Corden and Rosé’s got the CUTEST accent! Her Aussie accent is so sexy too…” she remembered her girlfriend saying as she walked into her living room, her eyes glued to the phone in her hand.

“Hey!”, the pink-haired girl puffed out, “my Scottish accent is sexy too!”

Denali looked up, her left brow raised, “Says who?”, she asked teasingly.

“…My grandma”, Rosé replied unconvincingly, causing her girlfriend to laugh out loud.

“My Rosie is so cute when she’s jealous!”, she sing-sang, stamping a sloppy kiss on the older girl’s cheek.

“I’m not!”, she huffed as the black-haired girl sat next to her on the couch.

“You know she’s not my favorite in the group. Wanna know why?” Denali asked, draping her arms around Rosé’s neck.

“Why?”.

“Because you’ll always be my favorite Rosie”, she whispered in her girlfriend’s ear.

Rosé was sure her cheeks were matching colors with the shade of pink of her hair.

“Cheesy bitch”, she muttered as Denali hid her face in the crook of her neck.

“Yours truly”.

She remembered letting her girlfriend rest on her chest, the sweet strawberry scent of Denali’s shampoo filling her nose as she tried to focus on the track she was working on. 

However, another thought was buzzing in her head. 

The brunette’s birthday - the first one since they had started dating - was coming up soon and Rosé had absolutely no idea what to get her. 

Dedicating her a song, while definitely in her range, was too obvious of a gift. She really wanted to surprise her, to give her something she would remember for years to come.

With less than a month to the date, Rosé decided to go to the very familiar diner to pick up something quick to eat before going to grab the equipment she needed for her weekly set across the street. 

As she walked up to the register to pay up after having grabbed some pastries, she couldn’t help but notice the absence of a familiar face. She was sure Denali was set to be on shift at that hour.

Her attention was drawn back to the guy behind the counter.

“Hey, gorge! Looking for me?”, Mik asked as he took the pastry bag from the pink-haired girl.

Rosé rolled her eyes playfully, “Hey to you too, Mik,” she replied as she took out some cash, “Sorry to burst your bubble, short king, I was just wondering where my lovely girlfriend is”.

The shorter guy shrugged, “Your loss. I’m always open for a tall glamazon like you, gorge”, he winked before presenting her the receipt, “it will be 4,99$ for that, and also Nali was allowed to go home early by Miss Iman because she was trying to get tickets for some concert, I think?”

Rosé gave a little nod of acknowledgment and was handing over the cash when a voice caught her attention.

“Oh, no!”, both Mik and Rosé turned their head to another of the diner staff, Olivia, who was looking down at her phone pouting, “Nali just texted me saying that the Blackpink show in Chicago she wanted to go to sold out before she was able to get a standing ticket and the VIP ones are too expensive for her! Oh, poor baby Nali”.

“What other tour dates are they doing?” the singer asked, an idea forming in her head.

The other girl furrowed her brows, trying to remember, “Well, Nali wanted to go to the Chicago one with some of her friends there, that one was in mid-May. If I’m not mistaken, they are doing one in Newark at the end of May, and then the other ones are down south and on the west coast as well? Pretty big tour from what she has told me”.

“Wow, that’s an impressive gig,” Rosé commented, genuinely surprised.

She grabbed the paper bag from the counter, waving goodbye to the two employees, “Well, divas, I’ll leave you to do your jobs. Thanks for the info, I guess my set has to be delayed a bit to deliver these to my girl, and hope to cheer her up a bit, wish me luck!” 

The other two waved her off as she exited the diner. 

The pink-haired girl grabbed her phone from her purse and quickly texted Jan and Lagoona to meet her at her place after her set. 

Maybe she had just found the perfect birthday present for her Nali.

Rosé and Lagoona were sitting at the kitchen table, the Scottish girl’s computer between them open on the ticketing site while Jan was busy gushing with her girlfriend over the phone in the living room.

The blue-haired girl stared at the laptop, clicking her tongue, “Is that the VIP price for both…?”

“Nope, just one. I could afford to get only one VIP ticket for her so she’ll get to enjoy it all by herself”, Rosé replied.

“Holy shit, I fucking wish you were this in love with me to spend that much money for my birthday!” Lagoona commented jokingly before noticing a small detail, “Wait, did you see the date of the concert?”

The pink-haired girl nodded, “Yes, I am aware that the concert happens to be on my birthday. However, this is an opportunity I can’t let Nali give up on,” she reasoned, “Also, I plan on spending many more birthdays with her, so her spending mine doing something she loves makes me happy as well”.

Lagoona shot up and started reaching for kitchen drawers, seemingly looking for something.

“Can I know what the fuck are you doing?”, Rosé asked, arching her manicured brow.

“Looking for a whip because you’re fucking whipped for the girl! I can’t believe it!”, her best friend cackled, actively avoiding the kitchen towel thrown at her.

“Oh, fuck you, bitch!”, the pink-haired girl said in return, unable to hide her own grin at the situation.

At that moment, their purple-haired friend entered the room, saying her goodbyes over the phone before she sat down on the opposite side of Rosé.

“Oh look, who decided to join us!” Lagoona teased as she sat back next to the Scottish girl, “how was the call with the sugar mommy?”

Jan blushed furiously, “Shush, you two! Jackie’s not my sugar mommy! She just… happens to be richer and older than me. Also, she called me because she’s stressed from organizing this big event in May and needed some advice!”, she blurted out, only causing the other two to laugh even harder.

“Yeah, sure whatever you say, Stuntalina the sugar baby. C’mon, I’ve got a new piece I wrote for us to show you!”, Rosé said as she closed the ticket receipt.

She opened her music editing program, pressed play on the last recorded file.

While her best friends were busy enjoying the new song she produced, Rosé checked her phone to find a new text from Denali.

10:52 PM:

thank u so much for the pastries, I really needed them today. You always know how to cheer me up. Goodnight my Rosie <3

The singer smiled. 

She couldn’t wait to show Denali her birthday present.

Denali was lying down on the couch, her eyes on her best friend - and soon-to-be ex-roommate - as she packed the last few things she needed to move out.

“I still can’t believe you’re moving out,” the brunette pouted, “You’re leaving me allllll aloooooooneeeee”, she said dramatically.

“Nali, you’re acting as if I’m moving across the country”, Olivia chuckled, “I’m literally moving in with Utica and Symone, and they live across the street”.

The Alaskan skater threw her head back, “So close, yet so far”.

The younger girl rolled her eyes, reaching for a silver sharpie before throwing it to Denali, “Okay, miss Dramanali. Will you get your ass up and help me finish labeling these boxes?”

It took them a little over an hour to have most of Olivia’s things labeled and boxed, ready to be taken to their new home.

A bottle of soju later, they sat together on the couch in front of the TV as they ate some take-out for dinner, reminiscing of their time as roommates.

“It’s going to be weird to live alone,” Denali confessed as she took a piece of kimbap with her steel chopsticks, “We’ve been roommates ever since I literally moved in from Chicago. But I know it’s the right thing for you, you know”.

Olivia nodded, “I didn’t expect it to take this turn, I mean, I started it out a year ago single and now I’m dating not just one but two of the most awesome people I know?”

“I remember you being bummed when Utica started dating Symone. I sneaked out way too much ice cream from the diner to cheer you up, but look at you now, dating both Utica and Symone, moving in with them? You won the jackpot, Liv!”, the older girl replied, smacking her free hand against the other girl’s thigh.

“Girl, I could say the same about you and miss Rosie. All lovey-dovey, sweet kisses and I love you’s”, Olivia winked as she saw Denali’s cheeks take a pink tint.

“Actually…”, the skater confessed, “she technically hasn’t said the big L word out loud, not like that at least”.

Denali was sure Olivia’s eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, “WHAT?”

The brunette smiled shyly.

“It’s just… this past year everything has been so perfect with her and what if forcing her to say it will ruin that?”

“Nali, baby, the girl basically lives here. Do I have to remind you just how many times I’ve walked in on you two doing the whole devil’s tango while she looks at you like a lovesick puppy and you are worried about her not saying I love you back?”

The Alaskan girl tried to lighten the mood, “To our defense, you did say that you were spending the night out and that movie was very intense-”

“Nali…”

“I love her, Liv. Like really really love her. And I do see a future with her, but she is such a free spirit, someone who says and does things her own way and I’m worried that I’m going to scare her away,” Denali bit her lower lip, trying her best to not let the emotions get the best of her.

The younger girl took her hand, “Do you remember what I told you that day at the rink when you were scared to ask her out?”

“That you would unleash Kandy on her?”

They both chuckled.

“That’s still on the table if she breaks your heart,” Olivia replied honestly, holding Denali’s hand, “I told you to give it a chance. Tell her about how you feel your relationship is heading, and I got a feeling that she feels the same as you do”.

The two friends savored the moment, only the sound coming from outside the window to fill the void.

Denali was the first one to speak up after a couple of minutes of silence, “See? Who am I supposed to have those heart-to-heart conversations with if I’m alone? The wall?”

Olivia laughed out loud, “The cat lady that lives on the first floor sure seems like a good replacement for me!”

“Donut would run away before I could even let her in, girl”.

“True that,” she took another bite of her rice bowl before setting it down and getting up from the couch, “maybe, after you have your talk with your pink highlighter girlfriend in time for your birthday next week, she can babysit your pillow princess ass!” 

Denali’s mouth was wide open in shock but unable to restrain the laughter. 

“Liv! How dare you!” she said as the younger girl bolted into her room, prompting a not-so-sober chase.

They would totally be getting an angry noise complaint the next day.

Denali felt like her birthday went faster than she would have liked.

It had started with a call from her mom while her friends were trying to make her breakfast in bed - emphasis on trying - only to end up ordering delivery from the bakery two blocks down the street. 

Since she would have still had to work that day, they had opted to hang out at her place the night before, waiting up to midnight to wish her a happy birthday. 

What Denali was really looking forward to was the cute night-in her girlfriend had promised along with her mysterious birthday gift that was seemingly months in the making.

Having barely made it home from the diner, the brunette had just taken off her jacket and scarf when she heard a familiar knock pattern on her door.

She smiled as she was greeted by a small bouquet of forget-me-nots, a bag seemingly full of takeaway boxes, and a bottle of Rosé.

“Isn’t it cannibalism if you drink Rosé?” she teased, letting her girlfriend in the apartment and closing the door behind her.

“I’m letting that slide because it’s your birthday, baby,” the pink-haired girl replied as she set everything down on the kitchen counter.

Denali took a moment to take in how her Rosie looked.

The signature pink leather jacket was open to reveal a very deep low cut top that left close to nothing to the imagination. The black high-waisted jeans hugged her curves in a way that drove Denali crazy just to think about. 

“Liking the view, mama?”, Rosé’s smirk was one of the few things able to make her weak to her knees like that.

“You’re a tease-y bitch”

“Thank you for noticing”, she winked as she walked over to Denali and sneaked her arms around her girlfriend’s waist, towering over her thanks to the pumps she was wearing.

The brunette couldn’t help but smile as she wrapped her arms around Rosé’s neck, getting on her tippy toes to kiss her.

“Happy birthday, my angel”, she whispered against her lips before her strong arms picked Denali up with a small yelp from the younger girl.

“What about dinner?”, she chuckled.

“I’m in a mood to eat something else right now…”, Rosé simply said as she reconnected their lips and started taking her girlfriend to the familiar bedroom.

Denali lied with her head on Rosé’s chest like she always did after they slept together. She could fall asleep just with how the older girl was gently combing her hair with her fingers.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, mama. You still got my birthday gift to open up”, she whispered, making Denali chuckle.

“What? Wasn’t the mind-blowing sex your birthday present?” she teased.

She could feel Rosé smile against her hair, “Thanks for the ego boost, diva, but I think you’ll like the real present more”

She went to reach for the pink jacket on the floor, taking out an envelope and giving it to Denali.

“What is this?”

“Open it up and find out for yourself”

The brunette straightened herself, not caring about the sheets pooling at her waist, and opened the present.

She couldn’t believe her eyes.

“You’re kidding me?!”

“Well, it’s not my fault your birthday happens to be on April Fool’s day but it’s all real, angel”, Rosé smiled at her.

“Ahhh! VIP Tickets for Blackpink’s concert?! I love you!”, Denali blurted out and went on to hug her girlfriend.

When she felt the older girl get slightly stiff, she realized just what she had blurted out and did what she did best: she panicked.

“Oh gosh, sorry I didn’t-”

Rosé didn’t reply, just went on cupping her face to calm her down.

“Baby, it’s okay. Don’t ever feel sorry for how you feel”, she reassured, kissing her forehead, “I just… don’t have the best track record when it comes to being told those three little words. I know how strongly I feel about you. I just want to mean it 100% when I say it, okay?”

Denali nodded, not trusting her words as she knew how hard it was for her girlfriend to talk about her feelings.

Rosé tilted her head, “Now, let me snuggle my…”, she looked over Denali’s shoulder, the clock read 11:05 PM, “birthday girl for another hour”.

She went on to press her girlfriend’s body against hers. She let a couple of minutes pass, making sure that the shorter girl had calmed down.

“Sing me to sleep, Rosie?”, she heard the faintest voice coming from the younger girl, whose arms held her sides tightly.

“Anything for you, angel”.

Almost two months later, Denali couldn’t believe she was actually there, waiting under the smaller stage for the concert to begin.

The soundcheck had been overwhelming, she definitely had almost cried when the girls waved at her section of the crowd. She was sure Lisa was waving at her.

She had even managed to become friends with some of the other fans in the VIP section, having gone to the concert alone - she still was a bit sad that she was missing Rosé’s birthday but understood the argument that this was one in a lifetime opportunity that she couldn’t pass on. 

“I can’t believe how close we are to the stage!” one of the girls to Denali’s right, Sakura, commented, “Based on the videos from the other dates, this is definitely the best side to be on, especially during Lisa’s dance solo!”

“Girl, I know! I’m ready to see her shake that ass!” Denali replied, making both of them chuckle.

“Oh, is that how it is, mama?”

Denali froze.

Was that…

“Rosie?”

There was her girlfriend, sporting the VIP tag around her neck and around her wrist.

“How did you get in? I thought you didn’t manage to get another ticket?”, while she was beyond ecstatic to see her girlfriend there with her at the concert, she was also very confused.

“Up until a couple of hours ago, I didn’t have it, so that was as much of a surprise to you as it is to you,” she smiled, “Remember I told you about how Jan’s girlfriend was busy organizing a big event?” she asked as she recollected what had just happened hours prior.

Both Rosé and Lagoona were sitting on the former girl’s couch, watching reruns of America’s Got Talent and commenting how there would totally be no competition if they decided to audition.

Jan walked in, sipping on her frappuccino, “I know you love us but why aren’t you spending your birthday with your girlfriend?”

“I told you she’s at that Blackpink’s concert today” Rosé reminded her, lowering the TV volume.

“Blackpink? Oh! That’s the project Jackie was helping with organizing. She even offered me a full VIP ticket. Do you want it? It’s barely 3 PM, you just missed the soundcheck”.

The two friends sitting on the couch looked at each other, then at Jan, then back at each other before bolting up from the couch.

“COULDN’T HAVE YOU SAID SOMETHING EARLIER, JANICE?”

“I can’t believe it, Jan is really something else,” Denali smiled, now feeling that everything was complete.

“Me neither, baby. That girl is a mystery,” Rosé replied as she positioned herself behind her shorter girlfriend to hug her from behind, kissing Denali’s cheek “Now, I can check out my competition with the other Rosie in your life”, she joked.

“I promise you’ll be a Blink by the end of the night,” Denali said confidently, melting against the embrace.

“We’ll see about that, little diva”.

When people said time flies by when you’re having fun, Denali just realized how fast.

The concert was a rollercoaster of emotions, from the powerful beginning to the member’s solos - she definitely didn’t miss her girlfriend’s ‘mom dancing’ behind her. 

And now, the soft guitar notes of Hope Not filled the stadium. The ballad had always been one of Denali’s favorites, those raw emotions she had felt so many times were being so beautifully sang out loud and it made her teary-eyed.

Rosé kept her arms secured around her waist, rocking her from side to side. The brunette closed her eyes, fully letting the song guide her.

That’s when she heard Rosé’s voice in her ear, so quiet yet overpowering everything else.

“I love you”.

Denali’s eyes shot open and quickly turned around to be met with the most beautiful smile Rosé had ever given to her, she could only see pure love in her eyes staring back at her. 

She hadn’t even realized the tears spilled down her cheeks as she went in to connect their lips.

Nothing else mattered to her at that moment.

It was just her and her Rosie.

The warm autumn air filled Denali’s living room as they cuddled on the couch, watching a movie.

It was almost midnight when the end credits started rolling, the younger girl was already half-asleep, clinging to her girlfriend like a koala bear.

Rosé turned off the TV and turned her attention to her girlfriend, “C’mon, little diva, let go of me, I have to catch the bus home”.

Denali grunted, “Noooo, don’t leave meee,” she protested, her cheek firmly against Rosé’s chest.

“I gotta get home, baby”, the pink-haired girl tried to reason.

“This is your home too. You should just move in already,” Denali replied, slugging her words.

Her heart skipped a beat. 

Rosé stopped for a moment to think about it. She smiled looking down at her girlfriend’s serene face. 

She definitely could see herself wanting to wake up to that every day for a long time.

Denali woke up in her bed the following day, not remembering how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on the couch with-

She shot up and went to the kitchen. She found a still-warm cup of coffee and a note.

She almost choked on the drink as she read the small piece of paper.

I thought you’d never ask

to move in together

Get those papers ready, angel

Your Rosie

PS: we’ve some remodeling to do, mama

Denali couldn’t help the pink tint from erupting across her face. She definitely blamed her sleepy self for being so open with her girlfriend.

On the other side, she had to call her landlord.

Her search for a roommate was over for good.

#rpdr fanfiction #s13 #denali foxx #rosé #olivia lux #lagoona bloo #jan sport #gottmik #rosnali #mentions of jankie #fluff #lesbian au #diner au #moonshot #submission

[heroes-r-us]

Can I get an Endeavor soulmate story you can pick what type I'm not fussy I just haven't seen any don't yet and Endeavor deserves some love. Maybe just a little he is trying

I literally saw this and fucking squealed. It's been so long since I've written anything and you know my dumbass refuses to practice so shitty headcanons here we come.

I read this one au on Ao3 where the soulmate was represented through a mandrake thing. SO I'm gonna poorly explain this, and link the author at the end so y'all can read her stories. (It's One Piece fanfics actually lmao)

SO- from what I've read, it seems as though there is a ritual at graduation. You place a bowl down on an alter-like place and pour milk into it. Then, the mandrake root is placed in. Once fully submerged, you prick your finger, and add two drops of your blood to the mix.

A miniature version of your soulmate will appear. They're called mandrakes and they typically can't speak, however they can use hand motions and other things to express themselves. They also seem to have the same abilities your soulmate has, including things like powers, weapons and clothes. Mandrakes act sort of like an adjustment period. You can get to know your soulmates habits, likes, dislikes, talents, hobbies and more. Unfortunately the mandrake has no memories of things that your soulmate has done.

I personally LOVE this idea and the author really delivers the cutesiest shit. It's literally so adorable. The mandrakes are so fuckin smol. About three inches I think. My hEART-

ANYWAY SO I REALLY WANNA WRITE OTHER CHARACTERS AS MANDRAKES!! (COUGH FEEL FREE TO SEND SOME CHARACTER SUGGESTIONS- though I'll still probably do some anyway.)

The fanfic I so rudely borrowed this from---->

-----

-Having been born and raised in America, it was no surprise you hadn't met your soulmate yet. Afterall it was a massive country.

- After graduating two years ago you had hopes that you'd immediately find your soulmate and be able to experience what it felt like to meet your second half.

-It was clear that this was not going to be your fate.

- Sometimes your mandrake would disappear for days at a time, only to return as though he hadn't been gone in the first place.

- The first few times your Little ball of sunshine had disappeared you cried. You knew you could perform the ritual again, but after having one mandrake for so long, you were pretty attached.

- He didn't really appreciate your clinginess.

- But he was absolutely determined to be a helper when he wasn't going off god knows where.

- In the morning he'd be the one to turn on the coffee pot, grab your mail and jump on your face until you FINALLY got up for work.

- You'd make him his own mini breakfast (something you still find immensely cute.)

- There was a store in the mall nearby purely for mandrakes. Needless to say you were more than a little worried about paying rent after that

- You also enjoyed teasing the cutie. Calling him sweet, cute or tiny only served to piss him off. If you managed to make the little bastard angry enough he'd quite literally turn into a ball of flames. 🔥

- He never burned you, though he had no qualms about biting you, should you coddle him too much.

- You found the lack of intimacy (no. No giantess porn you fuckin weirdos) concerning. He never wanted to cuddle or even sleep in the same bed.

- After you bought a mandrake sized bed for him he started sleeping on your nightstand instead.

- this distance worried you. Would your own soulmate be that distant? You could only wonder.

----

- Endeavor had been one of few graduates in his class who never did the Mandrake ceremony.

- He didn't care about that shit, and he most certainly didn't want 'fate' to tell him who would be the mother to his children.

- Only he controlled that.

- He wondered, on rare occasions, what his mandrake may have looked like should he have taken part in the ritual.

- Those sort of thoughts plagued him most while resting in that damn hospital bed.

- He knew that you, wherever you were, weren't responsible for his actions. You weren't the one telling him to focus on becoming Japan's top hero. And you most certainly weren't the one telling him to not perform the ritual.

- There was a fear in him on graduation day. Not that he'd ever admit it, but it was there. It was a common fear.

- The fear that once you added those drops of blood... There wouldn't be a mandrake to come out of the bowl to greet you.

- The fear that you were one of few to not have a soulmate.

- He couldn't be burned if he never attempted.

- But now... He was older, things in his life that he fought to control were slipping loose, and though he technically met his goal, he wasn't happy. It didn't go the way he wanted it to.

- His son was...rebelling. His now ex-wife was finally searching for her own soulmate, and his pride along with his face was damaged.

- Among all these things, he could only think that his heart must have softened.

- He didn't like to think about it.

- When he got home, he mulled over the thought for a long while. Before finally deciding to try his hand at the ceremony.

- He didn't need some damn priest to help him. He just needed to know if there was someone out there. If there was. Fine.

- If there wasn't, then that meant he had made the right call after all. Either that or his soulmate had died. Both were possibilities he was willing to cope with.

- once it all was set up, he found that same small seed of doubt planted in his head.

so, he found something else important to do.

- Paperwork, he should finish that first. Then he could figure this shit out.

- Three days passed with little change and he knew he'd need to get around to it eventually. He knew he was procrastinating. Which, in his eyes, is a form of weakness. He refused to be weak.

- With that thought he finally managed to complete it.

- He kept glancing at the clock. Back down to the bowl. To the clock, to the bowl.

- After five excruciatingly long minutes, he stood, stretching, and completely refused to feel even slightly upset.

- No. This was a good thing, he convinced himself. He didn't need or want a soulmate. He closed his eyes. They would only complicate matters more and-

- All it took was the sound of the bowl colliding with the ground for his eyes to snap open.

- There it stood, in all it's mandrake glory, rubbing it's eye as though awaking from a nap.

- It- no, she looked up at him, and studied him for several moments.

- She seemed to deem him safe and reached towards him with tiny, outstretched arms and encouraged him to pick her up.

- Slowly, and quite curiously, he kneeled to the ground and opened his palm for her. She hopped onto his open palm with excitement, only to trip over her own feet.

- He sat on the floor and crossed his legs while you attempted to right yourself.

- This changed things. Even though it wasn't supposed to. Even though this was just out of curiosity. Learning what you looked like shouldn't matter that much.

- He didn't expect that small nervous smile after you stood

- Or the way you twisted your hands anxiously as though waiting for some words from the giant man who would be your humanself's soulmate.

- He most definitely didn't expect for you to form a small ball of water to play with when it became clear that he wasn't going to talk to you.

- there was one thing that he now began to realize however.

- When you had smiled and proudly presented three orbs of water, it was confirmed.

- This had to be one of the worst damn things he could have done. Because if he hadn't, he wouldn't be searching through the files of his office for anyone who looked like you.

- And he most certainly would not be stressed about where you were. What you were doing. Were you with someone else? Why were you so damn clingy?

- And it was worse when he finally DID get a lead. Because had he not done this, he wouldn't be buying a plane ticket to America.

Okay!, I hope this was good! It's been so long since I've written 😢. Also I know this a rather weird soulmate au so feel free to Bash me in the comments for it hah.

#mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #soulmates #soulmate au #soulmate #bnha endeavor #my hero academia endeavor #endeavor #endeavor x reader #endeavour fanfic #endeavour x reader #enji todoroki #mha enji #bnha enji #todoroki enji #enji x reader #enjixreader #x reader #/you #/reader #enji/reader #endeavor/reader #mha/reader #mandrake #mandrake soulmate

[selinas-ships]

Everybody Loves Somebody

I didn't mean for this to turn into a song fic, but it kinda did, and I'm not mad about it. 

Also hi, I know it's been a million years lmaooo

With a frustrated sigh, Selene tossed the file onto the table she and Loki claimed, currently littered with papers from various files. “I hate paperwork.” She grumbled, rubbing her eyes and trying to stop the words from swimming in her vision. Stupid, tedious paperwork.

“You’re so good at it though.” Came Loki’s humorous reply. She didn’t need to look at him to see the insufferable grin on his face. And yet she couldn’t help a grin of her own from growing.

He wasn’t wrong, technically. Experience with her father helped her in finding the important information quickly, and the quicker the important information is found, the quicker one can understand the point of the report or the file, and in their case, deduce if it was at all significant to their cause. So far though, there has been little.

“That doesn’t mean I like it.”

“Fair enough.”

The words and phrases of the tedious report she threw on the table finally stopped swimming in her eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to open them. She was tired. There had been nothing but reports and files on the seemingly countless Loki Variants caught by the TVA for the past hour, and she was tired of it. Tired of reading how Loki made a choice that led him to being happier and fulfilled with his life and how it had to be destroyed for the sake of the “sacred timeline.” There were too many unknowns to make a properly informed opinion about the importance of the TVA and the sacred timeline, but from what she had so far, what was the phrase? She wasn’t a fan.

Soft music suddenly filled the quiet halls of endless bookshelves of files. A string quartet, perhaps? The scale they played seemed a little intense, she thought as she searched for where the music came from, finding nothing of note. And joining the instrumental music, people, a man and a backup chorus, sang.

(Everybody loves somebody sometimes)

(Everybody falls in love somehow) 

She closed her eyes again with a smile as a piano and percussion added to the instrumental background. Distracted by the music, she barely registered the sound of chair legs softly scraping against the floor directly beside her until someone took her hand and placed a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

With a quick glance to her left, she found Loki had stood up, holding her hand, his brilliant green eyes meeting hers as he lifted his lips from her hand. It was an action he’d done before, an expectation when greeting royalty, and Loki always had been as gentlemanly as he could when he visited. But it never failed to make something she couldn’t quite name yet flutter in her stomach.

(Something in your kiss just told me) 

“Dance with me?” He asked, giving her a soft smile, one he liked to save just for her.

(My sometime is now) 

She smiled back, hardly hesitating in her reply. They could make good with a break anyway. “Why not?”

Standing from her chair, she held onto Loki’s arm as he led them to a slightly more open space close to their table. Their next few movements were like clockwork. Her right hand clasped his left as her left rested on his shoulder and his right held her waist in a gentle but firm grip. Loki led them through a slow waltz, Selene following him seamlessly.

One thing she noticed in her now twenty-one years of formal balls and kingdom-wide celebrations with the waltz was, ultimately, it was about trust. The lead had to trust that the follower would follow where they directed, and the follower had to trust the lead to know what step to take next and carry through. A waltz without trust wasn’t a waltz at all, in her opinion. A waltz without trust was less of a dance and more of two fools tripping over each other because they didn’t trust or communicate enough to make it work. 

Truthfully, it was a simple way to read a person. Someone who habitually took the lead was likely to be a person used to being in control, whether of a people or of themselves, while someone who typically followed in a waltz might appear to be less of a leader and instead let others take that role, either due to not being confident in themselves enough or because that was the role they played in their society. A dancer experienced in both leading and following is easily inferred to be a flexible individual, neither strictly a leader or a follower, instead being what was needed. An unsure dancer let insecurity get the better of them, while a confident dancer, insecurity still very much a possibility, was far less likely to let their insecurities get in the way.

Loki was both a confident dancer and one who preferred to lead, which would logically mean that he was a person used to being in control of himself and didn’t like letting his insecurities (because Asgardian and a literal god or not, everyone had an insecurity) impede the path to his goal. 

But that was something she figured out years ago. This wasn’t a royal ballroom full of formal attire and people of political interest. This was two friends, taking a break, and enjoying something they both found joy in. So she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, while trying not to dwell on the memories of balls in a ballroom that now likely rests in dust and dried blood, and instead let herself get lost in Loki’s eyes, in his touch and in his arms, feeling safer here with him than she has during this entire ordeal.

(Everybody finds somebody someplace)

(There’s no telling where love may appear)

His soft smile grew into a wide grin as he dropped his head, his eyes sparkling with mirth and shoulders shaking with barely concealed laughter.

“What?” she asked through a small laugh of her own, dipping her head to meet his eyes again.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” He insisted, shaking his head. “Just remembering the last time we danced like this.”

(Something in my heart keeps saying)

Selene quickly wracked her brain for the memory before it hit her. Ah, of course.

“Oh, you mean the time you dragged me into the gardens to hide after a prank went wrong? One that I told you would go wrong, but you did it anyway?” She asked in a playful, accusatory tone, struggling to stifle her laughter at Loki’s utterly offended expression. She distinctly remembered saying ‘No, Loki, that is a terrible idea, and I will not bail you out of the mess you will cause,’ and Loki proceeding to go, ‘Trust me, it’ll be fine!’

It ended up, in fact, not being fine. It ended up being almost exactly as she predicted, if memory serves.

“Excuse you! You aided in that!” The smile that grew from his expression betrayed his amusement as she raised a single eyebrow, smirking at him.

(My someplace is here) 

“How?” she asked dubiously. 

“By giving me the idea!” 

“And then I told you specifically not to do it!” 

(If I had it in my power) 

“Oh, here we go again.” Loki sighed as he let go of her waist, Selene subconsciously understanding the cue for him to twirl her, giving him her own offended expression, a gleeful smile poking through.

“Wha-?? You bastard!” She laughed as Loki pulled her back into his arms. It had only been for a moment, but she had already missed his arm around her waist. It was comforting, grounding.

(I’d arrange for every girl to have your charm) 

“I’m your bastard.” He quipped, giving her a self-satisfied smirk. He knew he was right. Unbelievable, utter bastard. Her bastard.

“I suppose that’s true.” She dramatically sighed, laughing as Loki stuck his tongue out at her.

(Then every minute, every hour)

(Every boy would find what I found in your arms)

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, Loki leading her through another twirl as she just looked at him. Well, admired is probably a better word. She was doing more than just looking. She noticed the smile on his lips matched the smile in his eyes, the usual tension in his shoulders gone, the way his eyes crinkled in his joy. It made her happy, seeing him and being able to know he was too.

(Everybody loves somebody sometime)

(And although my dream was overdue) 

“What?” He asked her, noticing her widening smile. 

(Your love made it well worth waiting) 

“Nothing. It’s just good to see you smile again.”

(For someone like you) 

Staring into his eyes, she could see her words surprised him, but he was quick to come back with a smile that could almost be labeled as shy. “Well. I’ve had good reason to.”

((If I had it in my power))

(I would arrange for every girl to have your charms) 

Surprised by his words in turn, Selene ducked her head to get her giddy smile under control a little more before returning to his eyes.

They had almost gone half-lidded, and there was something in his gaze that made her want to smile and giggle uncontrollably, like Rosalind when she talked about her beloved, and kiss him at the same time.

((Then every minute, every hour))

(Every boy would find what I have in your arms) 

It really shouldn’t surprise her, the sudden urge to kiss him. This wasn’t the first time she’s had that thought.

(Everybody loves somebody sometime)

(And although my dream was overdue) 

This might be the closest she’s come to thinking she may act on it, though.

(Your love made it well worth waiting)

(For someone like you)

Loki led her into a graceful dip, her body and mind trusting him completely not to let her fall. He never did. But she thinks she’s fallen in more ways than one.

((Everybody loves somebody sometime)) 

As the song came to a close with one last beautiful violin, and Loki pulled her out of the finishing dip of their waltz, Selene couldn’t take her eyes off him. His hair, his eyes, his face, everything about him in this moment, she tried to commit to memory. The way he looked at her, the smile he gave her, the way a curl of hair fell over his ear.

Her eyes trailed down to his lips of their own accord, her hand on his shoulder sliding up to cup his neck. She forced her eyes back to his to find Loki’s gaze at her lips. Sliding the hand still clasped in his free, it moved to his hair, running through his gentle curls and waves.

They had moved closer in their waltz than they did when they started. Where before there had been a respectable distance between them, now their faces were mere inches apart.

Loki’s free hand moved to the back of her head, sliding down to cradle her neck as he nudged her closer, Selene offering no resistance. The tips of their noses brushed together now, eyes meeting and then moving to lips and then meeting again.

Her heart thumped louder in her chest. He was so close, it would be so easy to close the gap and finally know what his kisses are like-

They both jumped at the sound of someone clearing their throat, finding Agent Mobius staring at them with a very unamused expression that would have been a little funny had she’d not been both embarrassed at being caught like this (not that they were doing anything strictly wrong) and frustrated he had interrupted. Who knew when she would get the courage to try that again?

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I interrupting something?”

Normally, Selene would be a bit more diplomatic in her response, saying no and to apologize for making him wait, but Mobius, and to be honest the entire TVA, had a habit of frustrating her, so the snarky response “A bit, yes.” slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it. 

Understandably so, Mobius let out an exasperated breath. “Look, princess, you’re here to keep him in check, not to... act on whatever unspoken thing you two have going on.”

“Hey now-”

Oh dear.

Selene quickly put a hand on Loki’s shoulder, taking his attention away from Mobius. “Loki. It’s fine.”

The pout he gave her was unfairly cute. “But it’s not. He shouldn’t speak to you like that.”

“I appreciate it, but I can take care of myself, Trickster. You know that.” 

Loki sighed, ducking his head and pressing it against hers, his arms coming up to hold on to her elbows. “I know. I just want to keep you safe.”

Selene let out a sigh of her own. How was he real? What had she possibly done in order to deserve him?

“I know. I’m alright.” She promised, closing her eyes to focus on his touch and proximity.

And Mobius once again interrupted them. “Hey. C’mon, we have a job to do.”

He walked away, gesturing for them both to follow.

Selene looked to Loki again, taking a chance and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

He smiled again, nodding. “Okay.”

Slowly, not wanting to but not having much of a choice, they let go of each other and stepped apart, hurrying to follow Mobius.

If Loki’s hand sought hers and held on tight, she did not object. Instead, she held on just as tight.

#Loki x OC #Loki Odinson x Selene of Theganda (OC) #F/O Tag: Trickster #OC Tag: Selene #i daydreamed this and so made it a reality #i love them ur honor #they're cute

[nanagoswife]

For You? Always.

Chapter Four

Summary: Ben takes you out for dinner, just the two of you. How will it go?

W/C: 2.5k

<<Previous, Next>>

Your weekend was solely sitting on the couch and watching movies and sometimes reading. The only breaks you took were to use the washroom and moving to the kitchen, which was technically a part of the same room, to eat.

When Monday came around, you longed for the comfort of your couch, but the feeling of being productive did make you feel good. Not only that, but you had something to look forward to at the end of the day, turning the day to one of anticipation.

“So,” Paisley said, standing in the doorway. “Tell me what I know, followed up by what I don’t.”

You rolled your eyes knowing exactly that she meant the dinner you shared with Ben and his mom.

“Come on! I’ve been waiting for this day since you and I met. You can’t tell me you feel nothing for Ben.”

At the mention of his name, you smiled, telling her everything she needed to know without a single word.

"I knew it! Did you two have a moment," she asked almost conspiratorially.

Looking back at it, there were many moments. What Paisley wanted to know was if the two of you said anything to each other, and you weren't one to gush.

"And how is this relevant to the work I see piled on your desk?"

Paisley sighed petulantly, crossing her arms.

After a glare, she went back to her desk to do the work you knew she had.

Only a few minutes went by before you heard a familiar knock at the door.

Eyes bright, you watched Ben walk into your office. He had a file in his hand which made you feel better. Him bringing work meant you got to spend more time with him. Even if the work was quick, you could drag it out with conversation.

Before, when you were getting to know more about each other, that’s what you did.

Ben sat at one of the chairs in front of your desk and put the file in front of him.

“The papers will only take a signature from both you and Derek, but I have time to spare if you’d like.” Smiling, you agreed as long as he let you get some things done in the process.

Not long after, Derek knocked at the door. This gave Ben the opportunity to explain a few things before asking him to sign what was needed.

“Also, before I leave,” Derek said as he laid the pen on top of the paper, “I believe a deal is a deal.”

He reached into his pocket and retrieved the fifty-five dollars you had won in a bet from over a few weeks ago now. He would always say he’d have it quickly, but he never did.

“Pleasure doing business with you, sir.” you said, earning a laugh from both of you. "Oh."

Seeing his look of confusion, you then explained to Ben what happened. A chuckle came from you as a wave of understanding spread across his expression.

“It’s something we’ve done for a long time now. He wins occasionally, but I’m usually the one who wins the bets. This one, actually, was the highest amount we’ve ever bet. Usually it doesn’t reach above twenty.” You explained.

“I raised the stakes and paid the price. Literally,” Derek chimed in, which earned a laugh from all of you.

"Well, I technically did. You just had to raise it that few dollars more."

"Fair point. Still, it was a gamble that cost me," Derek said with a chuckle.

After that, he said his farewell to both you and Ben.

Being left with Ben, the two of you talked a bit while you tried to get some work done. It was a nice conversation, making the revisions of an ad actually enjoyable.

When Paisley had come in with something to consult with you on, she had a certain smile that only you could read. Partially because you had work, and partially so not too much attention was drawn to the two of you, Ben left. If you didn’t get the work done now, you never would.

-

Although the day of work was longer, it was a normality. Two days of a break made for one long day of work. It was a nice trade in so that you didn't have to work on weekends.

Today had you determined to power through anything that had to be done. This meant that you were done much sooner than you usually were.

As you were finishing up, you could hear Ben talking with Paisley. You just hoped she wasn’t trying to talk about you and him.

As you stepped out of your office, you were greeted by Ben’s almost immediately, “Are you ready?” Nodding in response, the two of you made your way over to the elevators.

“I just need to quickly stop at my house before we go anywhere else.”

He smiled as he said, “Okay.”

The walk seemed so much better today than it normally had. Normally, you’d say you didn’t know why, but today you did. That reason was walking right beside you, chatting about different topics that he wanted to hear your opinion on.

Arriving at your home, Ben stood outside as you quickly dropped your work bag on your shelf, which was beside your door.

Then, you were off, heading to a restaurant of his choosing. It filled you with eagerness to know where it was he was bringing you. He wouldn't tell you where he was taking you.

Walking down the street, he offered you his arm like he had the other night. This time, when you looped your arm through his, you leaned a little closer and enjoyed his comforting warmth.

He brought you to a place you were surprisingly unfamiliar with. You didn't even know it existed and you had lived in this city your whole life.

The restaurant was small but intimate. Entering the building, there was no one else there. It was empty except for the employees. When he said it would just be you and him, he wasn't kidding.

This all made you feel slightly grateful, though, knowing that you had time with him, and only him. There was no office, no other guests, and no family or friends. Even the workers weren't anywhere to be seen.

Getting to the table, Ben thanked the worker who showed you your table. You could’ve sworn you also heard him say, “Perfect,” under his breath. You decided to ignore this, though.

He looked at you with a smile, and you mirrored it. Taking the menu, Ben ordered a bottle of wine you’d never heard of. Looking at the menu, you didn’t see it.

If this is how the night was starting, how was the rest of this going to go? The thought of finding out excited you.

“How’s your mom doing?” you started the conversation.

“She’s amazing. Tomorrow she’s getting the removal,” Ben replied. "She's just happy that it was something this simple."

"I bet. Would you tell me more about her?"

Ben seemed to light up when you asked. "Of course."

As he talked about Amelia, his accent came out a bit more. Then, because you wanted to hear more and you loved the now thicker accent, you asked if he could tell you even more about her. With a smile that made him age backwards, he did.

Not a single word was negative. He started with how his father had passed from a work accident a month before he was born. Being raised only by his mother, he felt a responsibility to her. Like he had to take care of her even when it wasn’t needed.

You watched him as the light in his eyes grew as he told you many stories with his mother.You would have listened to him tell these stories all day if you could.

When the wine came, you hardly paid any attention to it. You absent mindedly watched Ben as he poured the wine, taking a few sips while you listened. When the food came is when he stopped the stories. It was replaced by you telling stories.

In between bites, you told a story about how you, Sadie, and your parents went on a camping trip. The first night, you and Sadie thought that you should leave some marshmallows out for the animals so they wouldn’t get hungry. The next morning, you were met by the sounds of a bear outside of the tent. You had to wait for a few hours before it left and you were able to get out of the tent. At the time, you were terrified but you had to lie and said that the two of you didn’t do anything to avoid getting into trouble.

"Wait, did your parents actually believed you?"

"Would you not believe a terrified Seven-year-old?"

Ben laughed, "Good point."

Today, when you recall the story, you couldn’t help but laugh at what happened. It was one that you and Sadie brought up often during many occasions.

“Sadie sounds like a nice person. I never did meet her at school. Are you two still close?” Ben asked with genuine interest.

“Oh, yes. We still see each other often. Speaking of which, she’s coming up this weekend. You should come with us to dinner or something one night.”

His smile, that hadn’t left his face almost all night, got bigger, "I'd be honoured."

Not only did you want him to meet her, but you wanted Sadie to meet him. She was one of the best judges of character and you wanted her opinion. You wanted to know if you were making a good decision, but also you wanted her acceptance.

“We'll set a day, then,” you said with a smile.

-

Once the bill came, you went to take it in habit but he swiftly took it in his hand and told you not to worry about it.

"This is a night that I'm treating you. Plus, what kind of guy would I be if I set this all up and made you pay."

Ben made a good point.

For years, you had always been the one to grab the bill except for the occasional outing with Sadie, Siara, or your parents. Not being the one to pay was strange, but it was nice. Having someone who convinces you that you shouldn’t even think of grabbing the bill also was a new experience.

After Ben paid, he led you outside and offered his arm again. The two of you walked around the area with no planned destination.

“Would you be able to tell me more stories about you and Sadie?” He said after walking a while in silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other.

A smile grew on your face when he asked that. Indulging his request, you told him a bunch of quirky stories of you and Sadie spanning from when you were little to memories a few months old.

When you and Sadie were in public, you were respectable and polite. Put the two of you behind closed doors, though, you almost seemed like you had no thought process unless it was dangerous or illegal.

Some stories even included Siara, as she had become friends with you when going into highschool. Ben had laughed along with you as you divulged your childhood with the other two girls.

You hadn’t felt this happy telling someone these stories, well, ever. You either never got close enough with another to tell them, or they already knew.

You finished your last story you waited a moment before saying, “Ben, I hate to end the night this early, but I need to go home.”

“May I walk you there?”

Smiling, you accepted, setting off in the direction.

A breeze that came through made you slightly shiver. Ben noticed this and took off his dress coat and draped it across your shoulders.

When you thanked him, you started to think about how he never seemed to not be wearing a suit. In the time you knew him, the most casual he had been was when he didn't have a tie and had to top couple buttons undone on his shirt.

Pushing all of this aside, you enjoyed the warmth and comfort it brought you. Not only that, but you once again leaned closer to him.

The last of the walk was spent talking about little bits of news that had been going around lately. It was mainly happy little stories like a dog who was reunited with its owner who had been deployed in the army for two years.

The warmth in his smile as he talked about these stories made your heart swell.

Walking around the corner that led to your house, you felt saddened at the fact that the night was truly ending and you would have to leave him. Even if it were only until tomorrow.

Looking up at Ben, you saw the same feeling in his eyes as he walked you to your door.

Stopping at the top of the few stairs, Ben stared you in the eyes for a few moments. His flickered between both of yours before slowly taking one of your hands in his, seeing if you’d object. You didn’t.

Brining your hand up and slightly bowing, he kissed the back of your hand, lingering for a few blissful seconds, never taking his eyes off yours. As he pulled away, his bottom lip grazed against your skin, sending a tingly sensation down your arm. You almost shivered from the sensation as your heart began to pick up its pace.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said in almost a whisper. He reluctantly let go of your hand as he slowly backed away.

“Good night.” He fully turned and walked back down the street after that.

Your heart began to fill with dread, thinking about how the rest of the night would be spent alone. For a moment, you contemplated telling him to stop and stay with you. Even if it was only for a few minutes longer, but you didn't.

Before stepping into your house, you watched him walk until he walked around the corner you had come from. Taking a deep breath, you walked in with the lingering sensation of his lips on your hand, making you feel enraptured.

Closing the door, you realized that his jacket was still sitting on your shoulders. Looking out the window, you wondered if he’d noticed and turned back. He didn’t.

Gently, you hung it on the coat rack. Smiling at the thought that you had a reason to seek him out tomorrow. Then, you realised that it was what he meant when he said he'd see you tomorrow.

Next>>

@stardancerluv @jaydenwoo @madmax2003

#ewan mcgregor #fanfic #modern au #obi wan x y/n #obi wan x you #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #fluff #obi wan fluff #For You? Always. #obi wan #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan fic #obi wan imagine #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #ben kenobi

[caramujotan]

disco elysium text-form #thots:

i finished my first run last friday because i went stupid and played the game for nearly 24h straight. i could literally not drop it. i called it a 10/10 when i was about 2h away from finishing it, finished it and kept that score. it’s a real good game and you can stop here with my endorsement but if you want some more in-depth spoiler-free thoughts on it you can read the rest of this post. it’s big.

due to the content of the game, i talk about mental health topics, suicide, drug use and - obviously - cops 🐷

in a way calling this by numbers feels reductive (scalding hot review take, i know). a 10/10 score doesn’t reflect the awe i felt when gilding through the end-game. it doesn’t say a thing about how viscerally my body reacted to a few pixels and lines of text. it can’t tell you that i spent 2h in bed trying to sleep but couldn’t keep my brain off of it and got up at 8AM to finish it; or how much i’ve been replaying the game in my head, curious about how certain quests or events would have gone if i’d tried a different approach or character build.

i have this funky little medical condition that goes with my autism that makes it difficult for me to identify and process most emotions that i feel. but i can tell you how my body reacted. this game went into my gut. it felt like a leaded fist burrowed through my throat into the pit of my stomach and shredded my insides. it got me fucked up, is what i’m saying.

obviously i can’t go into what caused me to react like that without spoiling the shit out of this game, and since i wish i could gently lobotomize myself in order to experience it again for the first time, i heavily recommend you go through it knowing as little as possible. what i can do, however, is talk about the technical elements of it.

the art is beautiful. the art direction is top-notch and it was definitely of the things that drew me to this game first. the oil painting aesthetic is sublime - gritty and ethereal in equal parts whenever each purpose is called for. finding out that the art team was spearheaded by painting majors from russian fine-art schools made perfect sense - it shows, and the game made peak use of it. the philosophy behind their visual approach is woven into the fabric of the game itself - it’s a perfect compliment to the writing and storytelling, and i’d struggle to imagine this game without it. it permeates and elevates every environment, every interaction, every character build choice - from the character portraits, to the UI, to certain skills and game events. real art cop hours all my homies kin the art cop.

the music by british sea power is subsided and haunting and gives the game that british/european post-industrial melancholic flavor. i’m no music critic sadly. it fits the mood and it stands out beautifully in a few key scenes, but that’s as much as i can say.

the biggest turn off for me was in the voice acting. if you’re interested in playing this game i’m going to assume with 75% certainty you’re in your early 20s to 30s and are politically located to the left side of liberal at a minimum - so i’ll just come out and say it plainly: every second NPC (especially in the late game) is voiced by a leftist podcaster. i’m sure this is a plus for some, and it’s not the kind of thing you’d immediately notice anyway unless you’re a quote unquote dirtbag leftist with terminal irony poisoning twitter brainrot. most of them do competent work, but the sound mixing and general performance is weaker in comparison to the NPCs voiced by actual voice actors. 

it’s not that bad, but it’s there - and the fact that this is probably my biggest complaint about the game should say enough of my opinion on it. either way i was cringing with recognition every time it happened and it took me out on more than one occasion because i kept hearing felix chapotraphouse in one of the game’s big tense climatic scenes.

‘but caramujo!’ you say ‘this doesn’t tell me what this game is about’. hold on, i’m about to blow the ‘i can’t do literary analysis unless things are explained to me in clear cut absolute terms’ gang out of a career and spell the themes of this game out for you in detail:

it’s about loss, and renewal - both personal and interpersonal. it’s about rising from the ruins of something that’s been in motion long before you were even thought of, having little power over it, and soldiering on. it’s about heartbreak and the end of a relationship and how that can warp your mind and infect everything around you. and you won’t get better right away - the end game doesn’t wrap everything up with a little bow and lets you cause systematic upheaval. you can’t revolutionize your way out of this one. shit will, for the time being, continue to suck. 

it’s about waking up in a body that’s fucked up with a heart that aches in a world that’s been torn apart - and still making the decision to try to make it better - because you’re alive, and your heart beats, and there’s other beings in the world that are tethered to you and we all owe it to ourselves to make it better. communism hasn’t worked, baby - but so hasn’t love - and we’re not gonna give up on that. that’s what it’s all about.

it should be pretty clear right now that i did my first run as a bisexual/questioning communist feminist hobo who kinned karl marx. but i can assure you there’s other ways to play this game, and there’s more to it than that because of it. 

the quests (both side quests and a main story) are varied and had me laughing and dropping into existential despair on different occasions. other than trying to be the biggest communism builder, this game is also about:

- having a heart attack because a chair is too uncomfortable, but it’s OK because your buddy cop holds you in his arms like in the buddy cop movies. 

- doing copious amounts of drugs and turning on, tuning in and dropping out, maaaaan. 

- going on an x-files monster of the week episode to track down a curse that’s dooming the local businesses.

- shilling for the free market to come fix it all with its beatific invisible hand while standing in a town so fucked over by economic embargoes and poverty that the local union leader is a corrupt toad with a plan to revitalize the region by gathering the work force into a nationalized worker owned drug enterprise of the legal and illegal varieties - and it still comes off as one of the more levelheaded economic decisions one could make in that situation. 

- trying not to fucking kill yourself even though you have to live with that thought every single day. 

- winning the trust of a 12 year old crackhead with a deadbeat dad by becoming a positive masculine role model. 

- turning into a fascist you so can get buffs from drinking alcohol, and therefore becoming a raging alcoholic and having to walk up to important story events carrying half a liquor store in your inventory so you don’t have a mental breakdown or kill yourself from lack of morale whenever someone calls you out on your ethnonationalist bullshit.

it’s also - and i cannot stress this enough - about making sure you can find a tape to sing karaoke and make kim kitsuragi smile. it slaps. it’s real good writing.

i don’t know what else can say. pretty sure the game is on sale on steam now. anyway please play this absolute masterpiece and stan studio za/um for clear skin. ACAB.

#disco elysium #.txt #not sure if this is done yet i might add more thots later specifically about the world building

[illeee-girl]

La La(chimolala) Land Chapter Two: Over My Iced Vanilla Latte

jimin x reader genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff word count: 1.5k warnings: none

[Inspired by La La Land]

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Read on Ao3

“I still don’t understand,” Jessenia says, stopping in between generous applications of mascara to shoot you a doubtful look. “You met some Korean tourist dude on the top of City Hall, just gave him a copy of Red Writer, and now you’re meeting him at a Starbucks to hear his feedback?”

You attempt to square your shoulders, though it doesn’t quite work. Your roommate—sweet as she is—can be a little intimidating. “That’s about the size of it.”

“That’s about the size of it,” she mocks. “Listen to yourself! You sound just like Sybil from Downton Abbey.”

“Life goal achieved, then.”

Jessenia lets out a heavy sigh. “I just can’t believe you literally handed a complete stranger a copy of your work. He could totally just steal it! Sell it to a film studio, or make a movie out of it himself—”

“That seems a little unlikely, seeing as how I’m unable to sell it to anyone.” She walks over to where you sit on your bed, completely interrupting her makeup routine. Now you know it’s serious. “Y/N. I’m only telling you this because I love you. Be careful. You don’t know squat about this guy.” “I do indeed! I’ve watched him walk away. He definitely does squats.” If you’d delivered that line in any other situation, Jessenia would have been doubled over in laughter. You always made her laugh. But this time, it didn’t have that effect. She sashayed over to her closet, digging through halter dresses and high heels. She had an audition that afternoon. “Don’t let some cute butt distract you from the reason you came to LA.” You suppress a laugh—but not a smile. “Jess,” you start, forcing yourself to be serious. “You’ve known me since college. You know I’ve never let anything—let alone anyone—distract me. This is just . . . I don’t know, Jess, it feels like a breakthrough. An outsider’s perspective will be helpful. Maybe he’ll give me an idea for something—something good—that’ll finally sell Red Writer.” “Maybe,” she responds, “though he sounds like just a himbo to me.” “We don’t know squat about him, remember?” She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Even himbos can do squats, Y/N. Boy ever can they do them.” _________________________ The Metro ride downtown is longer than you remember—probably because you don’t have a manuscript to pour over to pass the time. Jimin has the only print copy of Red Writer. That fact—and Jessenia’s words—make you more than a little anxious. Sure, you’ve got soft copies backed up on your hard drive and files placed on approximately 5 USB drives—you’re not stupid—but him having the paper manuscript feels a little . . . strange. Out of place. Intimate, almost. No pantsuit this time. There’s no need for it. This isn’t a business meeting—at least, not technically. You opted for a pair of loose-fitting jeans, a pastel purple t-shirt, and a whitewashed denim jacket. It’s not a bad look on you. But when you walk down the Grand Park stairs and spot him through the fountain, you realize you’ve greatly underestimated the level of fashion called for in the situation. He’s in ripped, black jeans; a thin, white shirt that somehow looks both loose and form-fitting; and a silvery-gray leather jacket. And he’s wearing jewelry—a Harry Styles amount of jewelry. Stud earrings. A black Chanel necklace. Rings on almost every finger. Like before, you think: Who is this guy? He sees you across the way and waves. Too late to turn back and try to throw together a better outfit. You’re suddenly mindful of how bulky your denim jacket is, but why should it matter? You fit in with the crowd of Californians much better, while he sticks out like a sore thumb in that getup. A surprisingly sexy sore thumb. Never mind that. You’re the writer in this situation. You’re the one who’s created something amazing. He’s just the reader. Assert your dominance, Y/N.

“Hey,” he says as you approach. “Love the jacket.” “Thanks. Nice . . .” you trail off, gesturing at him awkwardly, not sure where to look. “Nice outfit.” “You don’t think it’s too much?” “You look like you should be riding horses down Rodeo Drive with Usher.” He puts a hand over his heart. “You have no idea how much of a compliment that is for me.” Enough chitchat. The sun is starting to get lower in the sky, and you don’t particularly want to have to ride the Metro home in the dark. Besides, you’re starting to look at him—like, really look at him. And you think—though you figure you’re probably mistaken—that he’s starting to look at you. “Want a drink?” He asks. “I’m buying.” “Too late in the day for caffeine,” you respond. You need to make this as fast as possible. “Then get a decaf, or a tea.” He opens the door to the Starbucks, leaving you no choice. Once you get your drinks, you pick a table back outside; the weather’s too nice to pass up the opportunity. Besides, whoever’s running that Starbucks chose to play mood music over the loudspeaker. Quite the departure from the ambient, helps-you-focus stuff they usually go for, you think. The current playlist, in the current situation, with the current company, will surely not foster productivity. “So, what comments do you have about Red Writer? Is Marianne too headstrong? Are the bandmates too stereotypical? Is it too early 2000s to appeal to a modern audience?” He holds up a hand. “Whoa, slow down. I have yet to touch my Americano.” You decide to be straight with him. “I don’t have time to prioritize coffee over work. Every second that passes, someone else gets closer to becoming a successful screenwriter, and I lag behind while they take my place at the writer’s table—” “Whoa there. Take a sip of that iced vanilla latte, and breathe.” You do as he says, but not without rolling your eyes. After a swig, you look down at your cup. You have to look somewhere. The setting sun’s starting to backlight his blonde hair. It’s as if nature’s purposefully trying to complement his beauty. “I loved it,” he says softly. You look up. He’s smiling, and it’s real. It’s genuine. He isn’t teasing. “You do?” “Are you kidding?” His dark eyes light up as he begins to recount the plot of your screenplay. “Nerdy college girl is a journalist by day, songwriter by night. Her best friend’s in a small band from the Valley, and she basically begs this friend to let her write their lyrics, so she can get experience points. The band absolutely takes off, and the girl gets tons of gigs as a lyricist for struggling performers who’ve recently signed with big labels—only to find out that her real dream is to sit in coffee shops and play the simple, acoustic music she writes herself, just to uplift and relax people.” It takes you a minute to register that he’s praising your work. You’d forgotten what that felt like. It’d been years since someone had given you positive feedback—outside of your close inner circle of family members and roommates, that is. Panel after panel of producers had taken one glance, said “no,” and put your manuscripts through the shredder. But no more. Someone not only liked what you’d written. He loved it. “I devoured it in one night. Couldn’t go to bed until I finished it.” “That’s how I felt when I read Pride and Prejudice for the first time!” “Nerd.” You choose to disregard that last little comment. Someone felt the same way about your work as you’d felt about Jane Austen’s. I’ve made it! “I just have one little criticism.” Uh oh. Here it came. “What’s that?” “Your description of the bandmates . . .  it’s not accurate at all.” _________________________ “So let me get this straight,” the manager of the Starbucks in Grand Park stared Park Jimin in the eye. “You’ll pay me how much to play this CD?” “You heard what I said,” responded the fashionable, blonde Korean man standing on the other side of the counter. “And I’ve got cash.” The manager shook his head, but acquiesced. “Okay, man. I’d be a fool not to do it, I guess. You know how much cannabis that kind of money can get me?” Jimin chose to ignore that last little bit. “One question, though. Why? What you’ve got written on here seems pretty standard. Chris Brown, Boyz II Men. . .” “It’s . . . none of your concern.” Jimin ran a hand through his hair, looking a little nervous. “But since you’re being so kind, I’ll tell you this much: it’s undoubtedly worth it.”

#bts fanfiction #btsfanfic #bts #BTS jimin #park jimin #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #bangtan sonyeondan #La La(chimolala) Land #inspired by La La Land

[sophfic27]

The Mysterious Watch (You know the one)

Read on AO3

First, Next

Chapter 2: Mission Briefing

Word Count: 2,194

Yaz watched Joanna saunter over to the chaotic wall. Her head still felt like it was spinning. To be fair, she’d only been able to process the Doctor’s letter for a few moments. After a few years of adjusting to the concept of her friend being an alien, it was somehow even more disorienting now that she was suddenly human. Yaz had several conflicting feelings about the woman in front of her. She knew that ultimately she was still the Doctor and that in the end, the Doctor she knew would be back, but she still felt a little upset at the idea that the Doctor didn’t know her. At the same time, she was intrigued by yet another way the Doctor had managed to surprise her. And Joanna looked good in that jacket. And those jeans. And her hair.

“So, in 1972, these things called the Ralmaeth came to Earth.” Joanna had started her briefing, effectively snapping Yaz out of her rapidly escaping train of thought. Joanna was pointing at an old document on the wall, and Yaz followed her direction. “They came in a series of ships that UNIT detected arriving. UNIT established contact with the Ralmaeth, who acted amicable, to begin with. UNIT communicated with them, hoping to form a truce as well as make sure they didn’t disturb anyone living here. After pretending to be nice for a while, the Doctor discovered they had more sinister plans.” Joanna pointed now to a photograph of a man with curly white hair. Joanna paused and looked at Yaz to make sure she was keeping up. “You know who he is, right? He’s pretty important to UNIT history.”

Yaz blinked at Joanna for a second, bewildered by the sheer absurdity of the situation, and said, “yeah, I’ve heard of him.”

Joanna nodded, apparently satisfied, and went on, “so the Doctor had been suspicious of their arrival on Earth, and he insisted on investigating them further. What he found was these plans.” She pointed to a print out of some complicated plans for what Yaz thought looked like a headset. “This is a device that when placed on a sleeping person can keep them asleep indefinitely, and from what I understand, transmit their brainwaves in the form of something they can somehow use to power machinery.” Joanna looked back at Yaz, who was studying the plans with a baffled look and breathed a chuckle. “Yeah, I don’t know, either. Apparently, it can turn a sleeping person into a living battery. Not too good for the person, though, seeing as they never get to wake up and just deteriorate slowly.”

Yaz stepped closer to get a better look at the stuff on the wall, the blueprint for the alien device, and the photograph apparently of the Doctor. She saw Joanna standing next to her, watching her, and she realized she was waiting for her to give some indication that she understood everything explained. “Okay,” Yaz started, “so if these aliens were here in 1972, and the Doctor dealt with them, then they were stopped from using these things, right?” She looked to Joanna, who nodded. “So what are they doing back? And,” she paused, leaning in to scan the old document hanging at about eye level, “this all happened in London. So why are they in Sheffield now?” Joanna seemed to study her for a moment. “Last time, they tried to land discreetly in some random part of the moors, but UNIT noticed them, and brought all business with them to London.” She indicated a satellite image of Sheffield, “this time they came here specifically for this. We know that they have advanced technology, I think they may have studied us. They came here and appear to have rented a warehouse.”

Yaz gaped at Joanna. “A warehouse?” she said, “they’re aliens, what do they need a warehouse for?”

“To build something,” replied Joanna. She leaned back against the desk and crossed her right foot over her left. “Last time, their device would have worked on a small scale. This time they’ll be looking to work on a much bigger scale, which means bigger machinery, and they need somewhere to store it all. Hence the warehouses.”

“How did you find out about all of this?” Yaz asked, mostly to see how she would respond. She was curious to find out how deep this disguise ran.

Joanna narrowed her eyes a little, “I read the mission briefing,” she answered. She reached over and picked up one of the files on the desk she leaned against and extended it toward Yaz. The look on her face and her tone told Yaz that she thought it was obvious, and a bit of a ridiculous question to ask.

Yaz decided she needed to say something else. If she wanted Joanna to trust her and work with her, it would help if she didn’t think Yaz was some idiot. “Right, ‘course, I meant how did UNIT find out?” she tried as Joanna scrutinized her. “About them returning, that is,” she looked for something to ask that Joanna wouldn’t judge her so much for. Even though she knew Joanna wasn’t exactly the Doctor, she still didn’t like the idea of the Doctor thinking she was stupid.

Fortunately, Joanna seemed to accept Yaz’s clarification, and explained, “UNIT detected the Ralmaeth landing again, and knew pretty certainly that they would be up to no good. They located them in the warehouse district, and to be honest, the machinery stuff is mostly speculation based on their previous activity and reasonable use for a warehouse. They sent us to determine exactly where they are, what they are up to, and stop them if need be.” Joanna craned her neck to study her information-covered wall, and hummed thoughtfully, “I think that’s most of it. You can consult the files for more details from UNIT. Oh, and,” she pointed at a cluster of papers on the wall and explained, “I went through the rented warehouses in the area and narrowed down these five, which when rented did not give clear answers for what they would be used for. That’s our first lead. If those don’t pan out, we can take a look at the ones that haven’t been rented in case they’re using one illegally. Take your time going through this stuff, we’ll head out to one of the warehouses whenever you’re ready to go,” she finished. Joanna patted the desk as if to punctuate her sentence. She picked up the laptop on the desk and walked over to the couch. She sat down as if she was falling, crossing her legs in such a way that her left boot was on the floor, and the right boot was on the couch under her left knee.

Yaz studied her for a moment. She relaxed so differently from the Doctor. The Doctor would sit down and lean forward, always eager, and listening. Joanna sat with her shoulders back against the couch, as if nothing in the world affected her. Yaz kept looking for differences, her general posture, the way that despite the fact that it was the same face, her resting expression was completely different from the Doctor’s. When the Doctor looked neutral, she still kept her eyes wider, always alert, and ready for the next exciting thing to happen. Joanna’s eyes were lidded, and her mouth turned down in the corners. She had what Yaz thought was the most attractive resting-bitch-face she’d ever seen. Joanna had a devil-may-care attitude totally different from any the Doctor ever had, but damn if it didn’t work for her.

Yaz pulled her focus away from the other woman. She felt her cheeks burn, suddenly hyper-aware that she had been staring, and not wanting to get caught. She turned instead to the files Joanna had given her and flipped the folder open. She scanned them. Joanna had already gone over most of it, and what she hadn’t gone over was technical specifics on how UNIT had supposedly detected the Ralmaeth’s arrival. She looked up at the old document documenting similar events in the ’70s. She had only heard of UNIT when the Doctor had occasionally mentioned them in passing, citing some time she had apparently spent working with them. It seemed that she had been referring to some time in the ’70s if these documents were to be believed about the Doctor’s involvement then. But the letter had explained that UNIT’s services were suspended, which meant the files she held were fake, put together to perpetuate the illusion for her clueless human self. Yaz thought about the logistics of Joanna’s mission. Sending just one or even two operatives to investigate and stop someone already known to be hostile and potentially dangerous? Yaz didn’t know much about UNIT, but she knew it was absurd for a military operation to send two people to deal with something so potentially threatening, and with no way of requesting back-up. It was a flimsy story, and Joanna must really not have questioned it, or she would have probably seen through it in a second. It was definitely not how the police would handle something, mused Yaz, but the Doctor had asked her to play along, and that’s what she would do.

Yaz considered the information Joanna had given her and the explanation from the Doctor's note and tried to piece together the full picture. The Doctor had encountered the Ralmaeth in the ’70s and now felt the need to literally become a human to face them again. Yaz’s best explanation was that the Ralmaeth likely had some way of detecting the Doctor. If a criminal thought the authorities were onto them, they disappeared, went underground. Joanna said they had technology that dealt with brainwaves, and the old documents said that they had demonstrated proficiency with understanding brainwaves outside of their sleep-inducing headsets. Maybe they had some way of detecting differences in brainwaves. The Doctor, being an alien, and a genius, would have very unique brainwaves from humans, hence needing to be disguised. Yaz considered if UNIT was still in operation, they would likely actually be dealing with this. With them gone, the Doctor must have seen this convoluted plot as the only viable option for stopping whatever the Ralmaeth had planned without scaring them into hiding, making it that much harder to find and stop them. Yaz looked at the five sheets with rental information Joanna had put up, and wondered briefly if aliens doing something probably horrible that they didn’t want discovered would bother renting a warehouse. She looked at Joanna and decided that if she saw this as a lead, it was a start at least.

While she studied the wall and files, the room was quiet, the only sounds came from traffic outside, the soft shuffle of papers, and Joanna typing on her laptop. Yaz puzzled over where the Doctor even got a laptop. Finally, she decided to break the silence. “Okay, so which one of these places are we going to first?” She asked, laying the file back on the desk.

Joanna looked up at her and to the wall. After a moment, she shut the computer and stood to put it back on the desk, connecting it to the charging cord. She turned to Yaz and looked her up and down. “D’you have a car?” she asked.

“Yes,” Yaz replied.

“Great,” Joanna pulled a phone from her pocket, “I’ll navigate, you drive.” She brushed past Yaz as she made her way to the door. Yaz looked after her as she pulled the door open and looked back at her. “Comin’?” she said, tilting her head slightly.

Yaz nodded and followed her out of the room. They made their way down to the parking lot together, and Joanna followed Yaz back to her car.

As they climbed in, Yaz realized that she hadn’t driven the Doctor since the first day they met, it had always been her taking Yaz places in the TARDIS since then. She looked over at the woman who was the Doctor but wasn’t the Doctor. She was pulling up a map on her phone. That’s when Yaz noticed that it appeared to be a different phone than the Doctor normally had.

When had she gotten it? And now that she thought about it, Joanna had mentioned having Yaz’s letter for days, and all of the stuff in the room seemed like it would have taken time to put up. She wondered just how long Joanna had been… Joanna. She’d spoken to the Doctor on the phone only a few hours prior, but more time had clearly passed for the Doctor since that call. Joanna had been alone for a few days.

Joanna shifted in her seat and help up the phone, the map ready. “Okay, so you’re gonna take a right out the lot, and then go straight for a while,” she said.

“Right then, come on, Jo,” she said as she started the car and made to pull out. Joanna raised an eyebrow at her, and Yaz grinned slightly. “I’m calling you Jo, ‘cause we’re friends now,” she echoed.

Notes:  Lotta exposition in this one, sorry. I just like writing exposition. Class starts again tomorrow, so I might not have super regular updates from here, but I'll do my best.

#13th doctor #doctor who #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #my writing #doctor who fandom #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #thirteen x yaz #yaz x thirteen #yaz x the doctor #yaz x 13 #13 x yaz #thasmin #thasmin fanfic #human!doctor #human!13 #chameleon arch #yaz doctor who #doctor who yaz #yasmin khan